Flare was confused, “I don't understand that. Why marry a princess to the prince of a kingdom you are about to conquer?”
Dagan leaned forward, smirking. “Because, they must believe that Barrett will be sympathetic to their point of view. And they could tie Telur to Ontaria with the marriage. Then Ontaria sits on the sideline while Telur weakens itself fighting the eastern countries. If Telur loses the battle, then the army of Ontaria can rush across the border and claim a lot of territory. Even if Telur were to win, we would be weakened, and Ontaria would have the upper hand. They win either way.”
Flare leaned back on the couch. It made sense, what Dagan was saying, all but one thing. “But how does the sword tie in with Barrett? Ontaria would want him as a weak ruler, as a puppet king.”
“Yes they would, but neither the church nor Ontaria wants the Dragon Order restored. My guess is that Olliston is behind all of this, and he doesn't want you to have the sword, so he is requiring the sword be given to Barrett.” He paused for just a moment, “Oh and it doesn't hurt that Barrett is a fervent supporter of the church. I'm guessing that he will quickly turn it over to them.”
After stopping to get a healing salve applied to his left shoulder, Flare spent the rest of the day in his assigned quarters. Even in his almost two month absence, the maids had kept the rooms cleaned. The sheets and blankets were freshly laundered and the bed recently remade. He barely noticed as he flopped out across the bed, lost in his angry and depressed thoughts.
He lay on the bed for hours, arguing with himself as to what he should do. There was a voice that cried within to leave and do it soon, but that seemed too much like defeat. He had won the battles and his own father was trying to take that away.
Several times, move vengeful voices spoke to him, but he quickly forced them away. It did no good to lose oneself in useless fantasies.
He didn't eat all day long, his appetite having deserted him. Although he did get up several times to use the chamber pot. But he always returned quickly to the bed.
A small voice in his head told him he was sulking, but he refused to listen. He wasn't sulking at all; instead he was busy trying to decide what to do. But in the end, it always came back to the same thing. He had won the blade, and it belonged to him. He sat up, jerked from his wandering by that very formidable thought. The blade was his, and he had to get it back, but how?
He lay back down. How to get the sword back? Even if Darion did not expect him to do something, Angaria probably would.
Flare was still scheming, when sleep overtook him.
Flare woke to a knocking at his door. His whole body ached, and his head seemed fuzzy. “Huh?” He managed to get out in a groggy voice. There was a sound of a key in the door, and then it opened slightly. He sat up, immediately alert. Who was entering his room?
A young woman's head poked in, and her eyes widened. She dropped her eyes to the ground. “I'm sorry to bother you my prince, but King Darion wants you at dinner tonight. It will be in an hour in the main dining room.”
He didn't recognize the girl, but it didn't really matter, she was obviously a servant. He let himself fall back to the bed, “I'm not going.” He grumbled.
“Uh,” The girl started, sounding undecided on how to proceed. “I was told to tell you that the king insists that you join them.”
Sighing, Flare pushed himself back up. “I don't suppose that I have any clean clothes. Do I?” He dreaded spending dinner with a bunch of boring nobles, or worse Barrett, but the king was to be obeyed. And with that, another thought popped into his head. Was the king to be obeyed? Without question?
The girl smiled, relieved. “Yes sir, you do. I'll set them out for you.”
Flare entered the main dining room just under an hour later. It seemed that almost every noble in Telur was in attendance, all of them dressed in their finest. Three long tables ran the length of the hall, and a much shorter table ran the width of the hall at the far end of the room. The short table was slightly elevated, and obviously was meant for the king. Most of the chairs around the three tables were already occupied, but none of those at the short table had occupants. This was even worse than he had feared. All of these nobles, and every one of them stared as he entered the hall.
“May I lead you to your seat, my lord?” A young man asked.
Flare only inclined his head, and the young servant led off to the left of the three tables. Servants scurried in and out of the main tables, some filling goblets, and others setting plates and bowls of food onto the table. No one was eating, as the king had not yet arrived. Heads followed his progress around the room, and a quiet buzz of conversation broke out amongst the nobles.
“Here we are, Prince Flaranthlas.”
The servant stopped behind an empty chair, and Flare was immensely relieved to see Atock sitting to his right, and Prince Danal on his left. Perhaps this wasn't to be so bad after all.
“Flare!” Danal exclaimed. “I didn't know you were back. It's good to see you again.”
Flare smiled warmly at the young man, he actually believed that the prince was glad to see him.
Abruptly, the conversation cut off, and music started from somewhere that Flare couldn't see. Everyone rose to their feet, and Danal quickly motioned for Flare to join them, which he did grumbling. After all, he had just sat down.
King Darion strode into the hall from a side door, and another man walked beside the king. He was a big man with thin graying hair and an oversized nose. He walked as if he was the king.
“Who is that?” Flare asked without thinking.
“That's King Brayton of Ontaria.” Danal said. “And that's his daughter just behind him. Her name is Emily.”
Flare leaned back a little to get a better view of the young woman. Woman, she looked more like a girl. She couldn't be more than thirteen or so. She was thin, and she didn't look like she had blossomed yet into womanhood. She still had the appearance of a young boy, except the long brown hair that was pulled back into a long pony tail.
“Is she the one that Barrett is marrying?”
Danal eyes widened, “I didn't think anyone knew yet. I just found out last night myself.” The smile faded from his lips, “We have to do something or Telur will be overrun.”
King Darion and King Brayton led the nobles to the short table. Flare was disgusted to see Angaria and Barrett amongst the important nobles that sat with the king. At a sign from King Darion, he and King Brayton sat at the same time, and the other nobles at the shorter table followed suit. Then, all the rest of them were allowed to seat.
Flare could see Barrett and Angaria smirking at him from their seats at the main table, but he chose to ignore them. There was one thing about the kings leading their parties to the main table; the nobles in the crowd were no longer staring at Flare.
King Darion waited until everyone was seated, and then he rose again to his feet. He smiled around the room, “I know that each of you are curious as to the reason that we have assembled here tonight. I assure you that it is not just for the food.” Several people chuckled at the king's poor attempt at a joke, but most just waited for him to continue. “It is with great pleasure that I announce the engagement of Prince Barrett to the Princess Emily of Ontaria.” There was a collective gasp amongst the gathered Telurian nobles, but Darion continued quickly. “In addition to the engagement, we have signed a treaty with Ontaria, and we welcome them now to our tables as brothers.” He lifted his goblet and held above his head. “Join me in a toast to our new brothers to the south.”
There was a stunned moment of silence, but then goblets around the room were raised and a single word was spoken. “Brothers.”
King Darion smiled and lowered his goblet to his lips, and then he sat it on the table. Then, he clapped his hands, “Now. Let's enjoy this wonderful food, while it is still hot.” Then he sat back down and servants began dipping food onto the plates of the nobles.
The food was good, but Flare barely picked at his plate. His appet
ite had vanished. The time passed so slowly, why was he forced into watching all of this? The anger was on a slow boil, just beneath the surface.
Apparently Atock picked up on his mood, leaned close. “Are you all right?”
Flare was spared having to lie as King Darion chose that moment to stand.
“My fellow lords and ladies. I am honored that you are here to share this wonderful night with me and my family.” He paused for a moment and scanned the faces. “As you know, Prince Darion was killed in an accident several days ago. So, it is pleasing to me that we can celebrate this joyous night, so soon after the crown prince's death.”
A funny feeling settled in Flare's stomach. Was this why his father wanted him here? Or was there something else?
The crowd was deathly quiet at the king's words. Most of them were probably unsure of how to react to the king discussing the crown prince's death.
“I have decided that Prince Barrett will be the new crown prince. He will be my heir.”
Utter silence greeted these words. Flare was surprised that Danal was watching him intently. “You already knew?” Flare asked quietly.
Danal nodded, “Judging by your reaction, you knew as well.”
Flare nodded in answer.
“Barrett will also lead our troops against our enemies to the east.” King Darion continued, not a person stirred amongst the nobles. “And he will carry Ossendar with him when he does.” King Darion pulled the blade out from under his cloak and held it horizontally above his head with his right hand.
For another moment, complete silence reigned in the hall, and then there was an explosion of sound. It seemed like a thousand conversations broke out, and each one talking louder than their neighbor. There were looks of fear on some of them.
The sounds were silenced when King Darion raised his voice and shouted for silence. Flare was sure that none of them had ever seen the king of Telur shouting for silence. Nevertheless, it worked and silence fell once again over the crowd.
King Darion smiled, “Now, I assume that none of you are foolish enough to think that Prince Barrett will restore the Dragon Order; it is quite clear that he does not fulfill the Kelcer prophecy.”
Those faces, that had been fearful, eased a little at the king's words. Other faces showed surprise and worry, these were the people that hadn't even thought about Kelcer, and were now startled by the king mentioning it.
Flare could feel Angaria's eyes boring into him, but he chose not to look at the main table. Let Angaria think what he would.
“I assure you that the prophecy says that the person who restores the Order will carry the sword, but it does not say that the person who carries the sword will restore the Order.” He smiled, trying to calm the nervousness of the nobles. “I assure you that frightful day has not come yet.”
Slowly, doubtfully, the tension eased in the nobles. Here and there, smiles even began popping up again.
“Tonight, after dinner, according to our traditions, Prince Barrett will retire to the Nobles tower. He will spend the next two days in meditation and reflection. And when he comes down at sunrise on the third day, he will be our crown prince.”
“Hail Prince Barrett!” Several people shouted, and the chant was quickly taken up.
Flare had no doubts whatsoever, that the people chanting were doing so on orders. Someone was trying hard to make Barrett look good. The chants went on for a while, but he did not participate. The anger that was on a slow boil was getting close to boiling over.
King Darion raised his arms, and slowly the chanting died away. “Please join me and my family in the main ball room. There will be dancing and music. And those of you, who wish to, may congratulate the new crown prince and his betrothed.”
Flare was sure that the nobles would fall all over themselves to be first in line. However, he would congratulate them over his rotting corpse.
King Darion and King Brayton led the main table out of the room, as they walked between the three tables and out the entrance. Angaria leaned over and said something to Barrett, who then looked at Flare and chuckled.
At that moment, Flare would gladly have clawed the young whelp's eyes out. And right then it all clicked into place. This could not stand. He had to right this injustice. The anger disappeared, and a calmness settled in its place. He knew what he had to do, and it saddened him.
The nobles from the main table had made their exit, and there was general confusion as the remaining nobles sitting at the three tables rose to follow. Atock and Danal were both swept away in the pushing and pulling crowd.
Unwilling to follow, Flare stepped out of the crowd and stood against the far wall. It wouldn't take long for the room to clear, and then he could leave quietly.
“Hello, Flare.” Dagan said, stepping up to join him. “Some dinner, huh?” The old man smiled sardonically.
Flare did not return the smile. A thought had just occurred to him, a very unpleasant thought. He glanced around. The crowd of nobles had pretty much disappeared, and only a few remained, talking quietly. Nevertheless, Flare reached out with his spirit, and used it to create a barrier around him and Dagan. He did not want anyone to hear their conversation.
Dagan's eyes widened and he looked around hurriedly. “What are you doing?” He asked quietly.
Flare too looked around. “No need to be quiet. No one can hear us.”
Looking a little rattled, Dagan said. “Okay, so no one can hear us. Now what are you doing?”
Knowing that this was the point of no return, Flare plunged ahead. “I need a favor.”
“Okay. You know that I will do whatever I can, but why the barrier? Just come see me tomorrow.”
Flare shook his head. “No. It has to start tonight.”
Dagan ran his hand through his hair, “Well? What is so important?”
“I need you to get Atock and Cassandra and get them out of Telur. Do not delay.”
Dagan's eyes went wide. “Flare, what are you planning?”
Flare smiled slightly, “Don't ask. Just please do as I ask.” He turned to go, but Dagan reached a bony hand out and grabbed him by the elbow.
“This makes no sense. You are not the one, so the sword doesn't matter.” He wore a pleading look.
Flare put a hand on the old man's shoulder. “I'm truly sorry about this, but you need to get them and yourself out of Telur.” He paused for just a moment. “I am not evil. You know that.” He paused again, this was difficult to say. “I do fit the Kelcer prophecy.”
Dagan shook his head, “No, you don't. Kelcer says specifically that the one who restores the Dragon Order would be born under the sign of the Prince. You were born under the sign of the Tree.”
Flare sighed, and shook his head. He couldn't meet Dagan's eyes, and instead dropped his gaze to the floor. “No. My mother concealed my birth under the sign of the Prince, and instead said I was born under the sing of the Tree. She did it to protect me.”
Dagan looked simply stunned. His lips moved, but no words came out.
Flare looked around and then leaned closer. “You know me. I am not an evil person, but somehow I do fulfill the Kelcer prophecy. I can not explain the horrible things that he said I will do, but you have to trust me.”
Dagan opened his mouth again, blinked twice, and then closed his mouth with a snap.
An old man that Flare did not recognize, approached. “Dagan, my old friend. How have you been?”
Flare dropped the barrier, and spoke so the old man could hear him easily. “If you will excuse me, I think I will retire to my chambers.” He left the two old men and walked towards the entrance. Half expecting Dagan to shout for the guards to stop him, but the shout never came. Instead, he walked through the entrance and into the hallway beyond.
Focusing his spirit as he walked to his apartments, Flare easily picked out the two people who followed him. Undoubtedly, Angaria did not want him to disturb Barrett's trip to the Royal tower. He frowned, or perhaps those who followed him had more dire
commands. Could they have been sent to remove him as a threat, forever? That thought sent a chill down his spine, but then again he really shouldn't be surprised. Was there anything that Angaria wouldn't do?
His followers were still there, trailing him quietly, maybe twenty or thirty yards behind him.
He rounded a corner and quickly darted into a recessed alcove. There was a tapestry on the wall, and he lifted it and slid behind it, at least partially behind it. An idea had occurred to him, but he wasn't sure it would work. His right hand dropped to the hilt of his belt knife. If his plan didn't work, then he would have to kill the guards quickly.
Dagan had instructed him on how to create an image, but he had never done anything as big as this before.
He relaxed his breathing and allowed his eyes to almost close. He exerted his self-control on his spirit, forcing the image he held in his mind's eye to form in the hallway.
One of his followers walked around the corner, just as Flare finished the image. For a brief moment, he was afraid his follower had turned the corner before the image was complete, but the man did not react as if he had spotted anything out of the ordinary.
Flare had created an image of himself. The image walked slowly down the hall. It was difficult to maintain, but it should keep walking directly to his rooms, go in, and then close the door. At least that's what his two followers should see.
The man who rounded the corner was surprised and he quickly retreated to the corner, where he stood peering down the hallway at Flare's image.
Flare cursed silently. His image should have been another fifteen to twenty yards down the hallway, but he had formed it too close. The image was moving quickly down the hallway, and turned left at the next intersection.
The first man that had already rounded the corner, and a second man that Flare had not yet seen, moved around the corner and quickly and quietly moved down the hallway, following the illusion. Both men were rough looking, like they had been in a fight or two before. The one in front had a long scar that ran down the side of his face.
Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series Page 53
