The group’s horse reins were taken by awaiting servants and Sillis led them through the last bit of the gardens towards the two story tall double doors made of white birch wood that constituted as the main entrance. Sam was reminded of Dytin’s elaborate gardens as he smelled flowers, bushes, and other assorted shrubbery. The winter had made most of the plants wither or hibernate, he wondered what a sight it was to behold in the spring or summer months.
As they entered the palace, they noticed the subtle carpet the shade of blue; the ivory walls with decorative designs about the posts and ceilings. Paintings from some of Lochkary’s finest artists decorated the hallways, meeting rooms, and lobbies. They saw exquisite staircases made of marble with golden handrails, crystal chandeliers the size of a small house. Everything sparkled as if it was freshly cleaned. Was this how the palace looked everyday or was it simply because of their arrival? Sillis stopped them when they came to a large lobby with a roof that stretched three stories, another set of two story tall double doors in front of them, these made of a deep mahogany with golden ring knockers. Sillis executed a graceful hundred-eighty degree turn to stare at them. “Inside is the throne room,” she announced.
Sam felt like his heart had just plummeted into his stomach. He was going to meet with the king now? He had not prepared himself for the encounter. He was hoping to have some time to rehearse a speech, at least make a list of things he had hoped to get support with. Worse yet he was going to be meeting King Jeremy for the first time in the throne room which meant it was while his majesty held court. During court, every government official and royal family member would be present. In there would be the entire senate, the two princes, the queen, and of course King Jeremy and his advisors. Sam could feel his knees starting to buckle.
Sillis’ eyes trained on the young Guardian. “Keep your comments short; let them do most of the talking. If you don’t make fools of yourselves, perhaps then his majesty will speak more without the audience.”
Sam’s breathing started to become erratic. The others started to get as nervous, becoming unbuckled when they saw how Sam was acting. April stepped forward and put her hands on Sam’s shoulders, grabbing his attention. “Sam? Hey!” Sam’s eyes caught hers, April not letting go of his gaze. “It’s just a bunch of ritzy old farts.”
“I… I don’t know what to say to them, April,” Sam stated, ignoring the fact that everyone was hearing their conversation.
“Don’t worry about that. The words will come. Just concentrate on not stumbling ok? I’m right behind you,” April smiled.
Sam cast a glance at the rest of them, each trying their best to reassure him. “One foot in front of the other, Sammy,” Haven agreed.
Sam took in a breath and walked towards the doors. Sillis put a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Are you prepared?”
Sam nodded vigorously, his heart rate thumping loudly in his own ears. Sillis signaled to her guards and patted Sam’s back, half guiding half shoving him forward. “Good luck, Guardian of the Wind.”
The massive mahogany doors swayed open and the throne room blinded Sam briefly, the sunlight cascading in through a western facing window. Sam steeled himself as best he could, digging deep down to find his nerve. He puffed out his chest, took hold of Windrider’s hilt, and stepped forward.
Chapter 3
All Hail the King
One could hear a pin drop as Sam and his followers traversed the long walk across the throne room. Their shoes made no sound on the stretch of decorative rug running up the center of the room. The rest of the floor, columns, and walls were all made of the same marble that made up the exterior of the palace. The long red velvet rug stretched up the center of the throne room to the gently rising dais where the royal family sat. In the center, seated upon an elaborate stone altar of a throne, was King Jeremy. Gold lion heads poked out from massive arm rests and stared at Sam and his party with sapphire eyes. Connected seats to the left and right was where Queen Victoria, Jeremy’s third wife, and Prince Edmund sat. There was another young man, older than Edmund standing on the far end of the stage, resting his hands on a large broadsword. This was Lucas Hayze, the oldest of King Jeremy’s two sons. He wore red garments with chainmail, a wolf’s pelt spread across his shoulders and rabbit fur poking out from the tops of his boots. He looked more like an adventurer than a royal.
Others gathered around the stage and along the walls and columns. Elegantly dressed men and women eyed the group as they walked closer, analyzing every feature about them. Most hung a golden medallion of the national seal around their neck, symbolizing they were a member of the Lochkary Senate. The chains hanging the medallions were each unique to the individual, like their wardrobes. The Senate was originally established as an advisory board for the royal family around the founding of the kingdom. Over the years the assembly and the royal family started to separate different responsibilities to make the kingdom more efficient. Eventually the two governing bodies adopted an accord by way of a written constitution. It had been roughly two hundred years since the constitution had been signed, limiting the royal family’s authority while also giving the king a checks and balance system where he could influence the Senate. In the document it stated that each member of the senate would be chosen from a settlement or community to be their representative in the capital, the larger cities in the kingdom sending more than one delegate to handle all the demands of larger populations. Sam recognized the two members from the Cortendale Valley from their annual visit every spring. They were the only ones in the room smiling at him.
Other nobles stood behind the king’s throne. Sam could only assume they were the king’s advisors, a cabinet of men and women who were experts in different fields of study that had been in place since the Senate had separated from the king’s service. Royals would hire and dismiss them from time to time based upon the situation of the kingdom. It appeared most were military leaders and economic experts, but Sam could also see a priest from the Followers of the Light in his ceremonial white gown and a couple of fully garbed Magi. In front of the dais was a small, pudgy man with fire red hair and an elongated nose. He had buck teeth and held a large bronze staff that travelled the length from the floor to a few feet over his head. As the group approached, he pounded the large pole on the marble floor, sending a loud metallic ringing throughout the room. It appeared like he was trying to gather the room’s attention formally, even though everyone was already focused on the stage. “Attention, attention,” The small man declared. “Now announcing Samuel Gale, resident of Cortendale, and his companions.”
“He didn’t mention your position…” David whispered loud enough so everyone in their group could hear. “Didn’t Prince Edmund formally recognize it?”
“Don’t worry about it!” Nathaniel scolded. “Just bow!”
Nathaniel, Haven, David, and April all dropped to a knee and bowed their heads. Ashtock, Ahtash, and the elves had already separated from the others by taking a few steps to the side, understanding they were not to be included in a human affair. What alarmed everyone was the fact that Sam did not bow. King Jeremy leaned forward and wrapped his fingers together in astute observation. The man with the staff stood there in shock as his face turned as red as his hair. “Bow before your king, boy!”
Sam did not move, only nodding his head respectfully towards the stage. “Your Majesty,” he managed to get out.
Haven looked around nervously. “Uh… Sammy, what are you doing?” She whispered.
“Trust me,” Sam whispered back.
The room was silent for a few precarious moments until the man with the staff barked an order again. “Kneel! Now!”
“That’s quite all right, Counselor Regent,” Jeremy raised a hand to dismiss the order. “The Guardian of the Wind serves a much higher authority than mine.”
There were small murmurs circulating through the room almost instantly. So the rumors are true? Has the king recognized his title? Will he save us? What will the ki
ng do to him? What happened to his face? Sam’s companions stood as Counselor Regent banged the staff on the floor once more like a gavel to quiet the room. Jeremy continued to study the Guardian. “Why have you come to my city, young man?”
Sam cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, I have come to ask for your help in introducing me to the leaders of the races. I have been chosen for an important task that needs their attention.”
“The races? They are spread across the world young Guardian,” Jeremy looked confused. “I cannot dally from my kingdom’s problems to play tour guide. Who gave you this ‘task’?”
Sam took in a breath, knowing already how his answer was going to be received. “Dytin, your majesty.”
The room nearly erupted in scoffs, bursts of refute, and other arguments. Impossible! Dytin’s just a myth! Blasphemy! The boy is mad! Get him out of here! April’s hand found her way into Sam’s and he squeezed it, enduring the insults and objections. He knew what his purpose was, no matter how outlandish it sounded.
After a few minutes of verbal assaults, the staff again rang out through the chamber. Jeremy nodded. “My people speak a sense of truth, young Guardian. What cause do I have to believe such wild tales?”
“No doubt you have heard stories of what I have done in the south, your majesty. Do you still doubt me after hearing of such exploits?” Sam argued.
“Ah yes, exploits that you yourself have testified to be exaggerated.”
The murmurs and insults started again. Liar! Charlatan! Con Artist! Throw him out of the palace!
Sam sighed heavily. “Your highness, please. My mission isn’t just for Lochkary, but all of Teva. I cannot hope to stop Cain without the help of the other races. I have to reawaken the old bloodlines.”
A hush came over the crowd. “Bloodlines?” Regent asked, “You mean there are more of you?”
“More Guardians, yes,” Sam answered.
The room nearly erupted in a panic. More Guardians!?! Look at the damage just one did! We can’t have them rising against us!
Jeremy motioned for Regent to calm the room, and only after several minutes of signals from the bronze staff slamming onto the floor did the room become silent. Jeremy turned to the Sorcerers standing behind the stage. “Gladius, Minerva, is this true?”
A tall, slender man and a short woman stepped around the side of the stage. The man wore a long navy Mages’ coat and comfortable looking clothing underneath with a decorative sash belt holding numerous pouches of herbs and potions. A decorative amulet hung around his neck to signify his status as a Wizard.
There are five accredited levels of study within the Magi. Adepts were individuals who had shown potential for teaching and Apprentices were students currently being tutored to use their abilities. Once the Spirit Tamer graduated training and went out into the world to hone their craft, they were considered a fully formed Mage. As a Mage became more experienced they tended to concentrate on either the academic or practical side of the science. Wizards/Witches created spells and enchantments, studied alchemy, rune crafting, and usually strayed to a more scholarly lifestyle. Sorcerers, by comparison, were the other fourth level of study and were Teva’s chief magic users. They travelled the world observing the elements, often advised dignitaries in the magical arts, and conducted expeditions into ancient ruins all over the world. The fifth and highest ranked Spirit Tamers were known as Enchanters, or High Enchanters in the case of more than one in the same location, like Drakona in the Keep. Some of her instructors had attained Enchanter status but she had retained seniority over them.
The brown haired Wizard continuously pushed up a pair of reading glasses to the brim of his nose as he stood before the King. He almost reminded Sam of an older version of David. “According to legend,” The Wizard revealed as Gladius now started. “there were twelve in all.”
The woman, Minerva, was elven. She wore long red robes and a witch’s hat, her pointed elf ears sprouting through the brim in specifically cut slits. The oversized hat teetered to one side and she was constantly adjusting it. “One for each race, your majesty.”
Sam interjected. “I am not the only Guardian standing before you Milord. My friend Ahtash, of the dragons, is one as well.”
Mumbling began to circulate through the room again, the room paying more attention to the red haired woman sprouting horns and a tail next to the Chipowi and elves. Regent slammed the staff down before the chatter could pick up much more momentum. Jeremy folded his fingers together once more. “And what do you need these other Guardians for? To fight the Dark One?”
“If I succeed I won’t have to,” Sam stated confidently. “Each Guardian was tasked to keep a shard of the Tevan crystal safe.”
Sam began to pace and address not only the king, but the whole room. “If these shards can be found, then we can bring balance back to the world. Cain’s forces will recede to the pits of Damnation from which they sprang. The fields will grow lush with fertile harvests. The waters will flow, cool and clean. Natural disasters will be a thing of the past. No more earthquakes, hurricanes, tornados, or even famine,” Sam noticed the room was captivated by what he said. They hung on every word. “My mission is to collect these pieces. When I do, Dytin has assured me that we can finally have peace.”
The room was silent, either due to shock that someone so deranged was actually spinning this wild story in front of the king, or others who were actually starting to believe him. Sam decided to add one last glimmer of hope to the crowd. “I have already collected three of the twelve pieces; I just need your help to track down the rest.”
There was a long period before Jeremy spoke again. “While your words are moving Guardian, I cannot in good conscience abandon the needs of my people to gallivant across the world with you to the courts of our neighbors. Perhaps if my people weren’t starving…”
“What if I found food?” Sam interrupted.
Murmurs again started. Did he just interrupt the King? Did he say he’d find us food? There is no more food, where will he find more?
Jeremy let the talk die down before he answered. “If I no longer worried for my people starving within the season, then perhaps there might be something I could do for you. If you can find enough food to carry us through the winter, then I will make sure everyone hears of your mission. Your claims will have the backing of the crown.”
Sam bowed at the waist before the assembled. “Thank you for the opportunity to prove my worth, your majesty.”
Jeremy nodded in recognition of the sign of respect. Sam and his company turned and retreated out of the throne room. The heavy mahogany doors closed and the room erupted into a frenzy of conversation and debates about the proceedings. The Senate and advisors started filing out of the room, completely absorbed with their conversations. King Jeremy sighed heavily as the assembled started to clear, unable to stop a small coughing fit from beginning that he covered with a rag. Queen Victoria, no older than her mid-twenties, reached up and gripped her much older husband’s hand in an attempt to comfort him. Edmund stood confidently. “He won’t find anything.”
“I wouldn’t be so hasty to dismiss him,” Lucas argued.
“Oh what would you know, Lucas? You’re so busy gallivanting through the woods to even understand the state our kingdom is in!” Edmund snapped.
Lucas lunged forward, wielding a knife to Edmund’s throat. “I know how to slit a bear’s throat and drain him in seconds, shall we see if it works faster with a human, little brother?”
“Enough, both of you. Save it for the Bloodsport,” King Jeremy coughed.
The Bloodsport was the tradition for royal succession. It was written into the constitution as a means of keeping the kingdom from being divided by sibling rivalry. Every king would sire numerous male heirs from as many women as he chose to bring into his bed. Most kings chose to have numerous wives and mistresses throughout their lifetimes. These women were generally regarded as the cream of the crop, the best warriors, poets, politicians, artisans, etc. Wh
en the king died, the male heirs and the kingdom would have a month to grieve and then the competition would begin. The heirs would hunt each other down until only one remained alive, thus ensuring the best blood was seated on the throne. The mixing of the bloodline with various notable women ensured that no interbreeding happened as was the case with other monarchies around Teva. There were a few rules: Only the male heirs were to be targeted, no female children were to be harmed, and the heirs had to be a pure blooded human, no mixed blooded children would be considered for the competition. Some Bloodsports lasted years in the past. It made for good entertainment for the people of Lochkary, even if it was somewhat barbaric.
Lucas released his brother and they walked to opposite sides of the stage from one another. “Father, just how do you intend to help him should he actually succeed?” Lucas asked. “Even if the famine crisis is solved, we still have Cain’s forces at our borders.”
“If the boy succeeds I’ll throw him a party, and then send him straight to the front lines,” Jeremy said coldly.
It had been Jeremy’s cunning prowess that had helped him succeed over his brothers during his Bloodsport. He had half of them killed before the month of grieving had been over. Only after the competition had begun had their bodies been found. Edmund shook his head. “He’s no soldier, has no respect for authority. I know from experience. He will never listen to your command.”
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