The traitor was brought into the throne room by the King’s bodyguards and thrown to his knees at the foot of the throne. Coming in behind the captured Knight was a King’s guard wearing an officer’s uniform. King Benjin spoke to the officer as soon as he stopped in to the room. “Lieutenant Capstone, what is going on?”
The Lieutenant saluted and said, “One of my soldiers ran to the barracks and raised the alarm. He said your life was in danger – so we came as fast as we could. I apologize and take full responsibility for what has happened.”
Lieutenant Capstone looked around the room and noticed Mestel for the first time. The Lieutenant sized him up in an instant and nodded toward two of his men, who in turn ran down the dais and surrounded Mestel. Mestel knew better than to try anything with so many well-trained men in the room. Besides, he had nothing of which to be ashamed. He slowly placed his bow and dagger on the ground and stood up with his hands in the air.
The King spoke. “Easy, Lieutenant Capstone. This elf and his friend just saved my life from an assassination attempt. An attempt your soldiers did not see or stop.” King Benjin pointed his finger down at Austen, drawing attention to the dying man not more than five feet away from the throne. “Now run and fetch my healer, before this good man dies.”
The Lieutenant quickly nodded his head and turned to one of his soldiers. “Sergeant, you heard the King, now move it!”
“Yes, sir.” And just like that the soldier was gone.
As soon as the soldier was gone, the King said, “And take this traitor away. Interrogate him immediately and find out what he knows.”
“It will be done as you command, your Majesty.” Lieutenant Capstone snapped his fingers; three of the King’s bodyguards came forward and roughly picked up the traitor. The Lieutenant followed them out the door to the right.
Mestel looked around and saw that the Lieutenant had left no fewer than thirty guards in the throne room to look after the King. Mestel spoke softly into the silence, not wanting to alarm the guards on either side of him. “May I have a look at Austen? I have some healing ability.”
The King looked at the elf who had just saved his life and nodded. Mestel walked quickly across the floor and up the stairs, and knelt at Austen’s side. He turned the wizard over and lay him flat on his back. Austen’s chest was covered in his own blood. Mestel tore open his robes and undershirt to have a look at the wound beneath. What he found scared him worse than he expected. The cut was deep and went across his entire chest. The skin around the wound was bright red. The flesh inside the wound was charred black, almost as though the flaming sword had burned as well as cut.
Panic began to set in as Mestel realized there was little he could do. He nervously tore open his bag to pull out his healing spices and a clean cloth. He poured the spices directly onto the wound, desperate to stop the bleeding and stave off death as long as possible. After the spices were applied, he wrapped his torso with the cloth, which quickly turned red. Mestel knew his efforts were futile. Austen was going to bleed out and die long before anyone could come and help. Mestel looked around the room, hoping beyond hope that someone could help. What he found was the King and soldiers looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to divine a solution.
Desperate for Austen to live and having exhausted his healing knowledge, Mestel did the only thing left to him. He lay his hands gently on Austen’s chest and closed his eyes. He concentrated on the moment. Austen’s chest slowly rose up and down, but his breaths were getting farther apart, sporadic, and more labored. He would not last much longer. Mestel could feel the connection with Austen’s soul course through his hands and up his arms. He willed that a small portion of his life force pass over to the dying wizard, but it was no use.
Eventually, with his eyes closed and his hands still on Austen’s chest, Mestel began praying out loud. “Please, my lord, if it be within your power, heal this, your servant. For he has pledged his life to your service. I ask that you fill his spirit with your living waters.” Mestel said it again, and then he said it a third time. He continued his prayer without interruption until he felt his protective hands being lifted off Austen’s chest. Mestel snapped out of his trance and opened his eyes to see a man wearing a crest with Tia’s flowering rose kneeling on the other side of Austen’s body.
The man looked him in the eyes while gingerly holding his hands and said, “My son. If you will move your hand, then by the grace of Tia, I will heal this man.” Mestel came to his feet and moved away from Austen so that the priest could do his work.
Mestel was still looking at his fallen friend when the King’s voice carried to his ears as if a great distance away. “How did you keep that man alive? He should have died long before my healer arrived.”
Mestel turned to face the King with humility. “I do not know. I used my limited healing knowledge and then I prayed as hard as I could.”
“You truly have a gift from the gods. Tell me, was it this same gift that foretold of Rafa’s assassination attempt on my life?”
“It was.”
“Tell me, what god do you serve, so that I might thank him in my prayers tonight?”
“I serve the elven god known as Martel. He despises injustice and wrongful imprisonment. He insists that his followers bring down those points of authority who abuse their power and take advantage of their sworn charges.”
The King smiled, but Mestel could see the fear behind the levity. “Well, based on what I’ve seen here tonight, I certainly hope your god doesn’t find that I am abusing my subjects.”
Mestel saw this as a teaching moment; he seized the opportunity. He dug into the pouch that held his god’s divine treasury and withdrew a platinum coin of Martel. “I have heard no cause to complain, your Majesty.” He held the coin in his open palm for a moment for all to see before flipping it end over end toward the King. The King was shocked to have a tiny piece of metal flung at him, yet to his credit, he did not flinch. Rather, the King brought up his hands and caught the coin as it hit his chest. Mestel continued, “That coin was given to my mother by a chosen of Martel. It is my most prized possession.”
The King moved to hand it back. “Then you should keep it for yourself. I would hate to deprive you of something so precious.”
Mestel shook his head. “I would like you to keep it as a reminder of what happened here tonight.”
The King smiled and looked down at the coin in the palm of his hand. “You think I could ever forget?”
Mestel smiled. “You would be surprised. Keep it as a reminder that it was the love of my god, Martel, who saved your life. Had it not been for my god’s divine power, you would be lying in a pool of your own blood right now.”
The King put the coin in his pocket and sat down on his throne. He nodded his head and seemed to understand the honor Mestel was bestowing on him. “You never told me your name, son.”
“I am known as Mestel.”
The healer stood up and noisily pulled Austen to his feet. The King said, “And this of course is Austen. I remember you well, my wizard friend.” Austen moved to stand in front of the throne with Mestel and bowed at the waist. Mestel marveled at the healer’s ability. Austen seemed to be as good as new. “You gave me sound counsel until you killed your own High Wizard. Then suddenly you were gone. Gone into exile. A good thing too. I would have had you put to death if I had known where you went.”
Austen said, “It was Rafa who killed Delinor. I had nothing to do with his crime.”
The healer silently excused himself with a nod from the King. The King looked at Austen and continued. “The evidence against you was overwhelming and your guilt seemed certain. But after what happened here tonight …” The King looked at Rafa’s body. “… After what happened here tonight I am willing to listen to what you have to say. First, I have to ask – how did the two of you come to be in Jewlian? Austen has been in exile for twenty years, and we have not seen an elf in Kentar, let alone in the capital, for more than three hundred years.
I find it more than a coincidence that you both happened to be in Jewlian the night Rafa tried to assassinate me.”
The King’s question made Mestel think back to what Evisar had said as they parted ways in the Administrator Building. A fracture seemed to have developed between them that had never existed in the past. Mestel wasn’t sure he could be loyal to his brother and serve Martel with his whole heart. In fact, he was certain of it. And to be honest, it seemed like Evisar wanted the two of them to go their separate ways. Still, he needed to find out what had happened to his friends, if only for his peace of mind.
Mestel said, “That is a long story, your Majesty.”
“These are interesting times. I want to hear your long story.”
Austen and Mestel took turns telling the King of Kentar what had happened over the course of the last half year. There were no fewer than thirty guards standing between them and the King at all times, with dozens more in the back of the throne room and surrounding hallways. While they were talking, the King sent servants to the Sorcerers Academy with orders to find out what had happened to Evisar, Xander, Valihorn, and Nero, and to bring them to the castle. While the search went on, Austen described what had happened to him twenty years ago. He talked about the dragon, the plot to kill the High Wizard, and how he decided not to go through with it. Mestel talked about his exile from Armena, the giant attack against Wessex, the ring from the Old Shetley Fortress, the run-in with the lich skeleton army, their experience at Locus, meeting the genie on the road to Jewlian, and finally being imprisoned by Rafa and the Sorcerers.
As Austen and Mestel finished their stories, one of the servants who had been sent to the Academy walked in and approached the throne. With the King’s leave, the servant spoke. “Your Majesty, I was sent to find this elf’s companions, and I succeeded.”
“Go on.”
“The companions were being held under guard in one of the unused wizard towers.”
Mestel blurted out, “Why? Why were they held?”
The servant looked over at Mestel with disbelief at having been interrupted in front of the King. The King prompted an answer, at which point the servant raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders as if the answer was obvious.
“They were held by the Sorcerers for being elves. Given the sensitivity of our military operations in Glenmyr Forest, they felt it best to ensure the elves didn’t report on our plans.”
The King nodded his head in understanding and said, “Where are they now?”
“They are on their way here as we speak – under armed guard.”
Mestel was not happy that his brother and friends had been wrongfully imprisoned by the Sorcerers. “I don’t understand why my friends were held captive. I crossed Rafa and the Administrators on Austen’s behalf and was imprisoned with him, just as I expected. What were my friends’ crimes? Why did they deserve to be held captive?”
The King looked at him harshly and said, “Deserve has nothing to do with it. They were held captive because they are elves, and we can’t risk letting them go.”
“Why? Why can’t you risk letting them go? You talk about a war between Kentar and Armena. Why is this war taking place? What did Armena do to deserve your wrath? Armena has been at peace with its neighbors since its founding three hundred years ago.”
The King sat back on his throne and began speaking conversationally, as if he were educating his children at dinner. “Interesting that you say that. Three hundred years ago is when we lost contact with the Old Elf Empire. We assumed your people had either left or been exterminated. We thought Glenmyr Forest was empty. Still, we respected your claim to the forest for more than three centuries, but our patience is not eternal, so we established a logging town half a year back. Things were going well enough until your people showed up and warned us to stop. Then, a few days later, an elf army showed up and assaulted the town. My citizens were forced to flee for their lives. I only learned about the attack because a lieutenant from the garrison at Endwood, Captain Jon Campbell, made it all the way back to the capital to tell his story.”
Mestel shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. “You cannot seriously think the Army of Armena would ever attack one of your logging towns. We are a peaceful people.”
The King shook his head. “I talked with eyewitnesses. The body of an elf warrior was recovered after the attack. The arrow that killed Captain Sheval was made by elves. Based on the evidence handed to me, surely you can understand why the Sorcerers kept your companions temporarily captive.”
“No, I do not understand. There is no way any of my companions are involved in your war.”
“It doesn’t matter if you are involved or not. All that matters is you are elves. The first we have seen in three hundred years. The Sorcerers could not release you for fear you would go back to your country and warn your people. If that happened, then more of my citizens would die.”
“So it is better that more of my citizens die? We didn’t start this war.”
“That is debatable.”
Suddenly another voice thundered across the throne room. “I’m afraid my misguided brother is correct. There is no way Armena attacked your people first.”
Mestel turned around to see Evisar, Nero, Xander, and Valihorn standing underneath the large open doors at the end of the throne room.
The King motioned for them to come closer. “Please come forward. Any friend of Mestel is a friend of mine.”
The group started forward with Evisar in the lead. “Elves do not kill innocent women and children. There is no way my people were the aggressors; therefore, if you send your army into Glenmyr Forest you will start a real war by attacking Armena.”
The King responded matter-of-factly. “My troops have already entered the forest.”
Chapter 113: A New Mission
Nero walked into the throne room behind Evisar and took it all in. He could not help but be impressed by what he saw; however, he was not as impressed as he should have been. The second floor of Talon Guild headquarters in Locus was almost as impressive as this castle. The third floor, which housed the Inner Circle, was as nice as this throne room, and the Guildmaster’s personal quarters on the fourth level surpassed this display of wealth by a wide margin. What this throne room did have that the Guild lacked was space, windows, and the light of the sun during the day. By being above ground, this castle would always have a certain grandeur that Talon Guild headquarters lacked.
None of that mattered now as Nero held his tongue. He walked between the massive marble pillars with the rest of the elves and stopped at the foot of the stairs leading up to the throne. Evisar was debating with the King of Kentar about who attacked whom and who was about to start the real war between the elves and the humans.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Nero very nearly laughed out loud. Both sides were being manipulated by the Guildmaster into attacking each other. It was a Guild axiom to coerce two enemies into attacking each other in order to weaken both. In this case, the Guildmaster wanted to weaken Kentar and Armena enough so he could take territory away from both in order to found his own kingdom. In order to keep this kingdom, the Guildmaster had chosen to yoke the power of the Krone, a ploy Nero was not at all happy about, but he had chosen his side and would stick with his decision.
Having been the one who formulated the plan to destroy Endwood under the guise of being a Philosopher, Nero found it difficult to stand still and listen to this absurd conversation with a serious look on his face. In order to regain control of his emotions, Nero let the two leaders rattle on in the background, while he, out of necessity, considered matters of actual importance. For starters, Nero could not help but notice that the King of Kentar was still alive, while Rafa lay dead on the floor. It wasn’t hard for Nero to speculate that Mestel must have had something to do with the failure of Rafa’s plans. Nero had been at the Inner Circle meeting where Rafa had laid out his plan to kill the King of Kentar, and it hadn’t included this. How had Mestel kn
own Rafa was going to try to kill the King this night? Nero found the elf ranger’s mannerisms annoying, but he had to admit he respected him. Even more vexing was his jealousy of Mestel’s obvious close relationship with his god.
Nero remembered back to the night Venal had appeared before him. That night had filled him with a purpose he hadn’t known before, or, more importantly, since. Venal had spoken to him that one time and never again; were his actions not pleasing to his god? Was he not on the correct path? Without further guidance, Nero could do nothing but stay the course. The best way to serve his god was to gain power in the Guild. The best way to gain power was to be invaluable to the Guildmaster. The best way to be invaluable to the Guildmaster was to help him realize his plans by assassinating the King of Kentar.
As Nero continued to think, he heard the King say, “My troops have already entered the forest.”
Evisar said, “Then call them back, now, before it’s too late.”
“I can’t, and I won’t. The Captain of the logging town said the elves destroyed the town. I myself saw the arrow used to shoot the first captain of Endwood, a Captain Sheval, in the back. The body of an elf soldier who attacked Endwood was brought before me in this very room. Your brethren are guilty, and they deserve their fate.”
Before anyone else could say something, Mestel took a half step forward and lifted his head. “If you truly believe what you are saying, then you have to do what you think is best to protect your country.”
Evisar spoke up harshly, “Mestel! What are you doing?”
Do the Gods Give Us Hope? Page 42
