CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jeremy sat alone in the throne room. He was under house arrest, his town was under martial law, and Brin had run away. Jeremy was not one for brooding, but with the current situation, he couldn't help it. Moments earlier, he had received the second of two letters addressed to General Traug from Duke Dubar. Apparently, he had expected him to still be in residence.

  Things were not going well for the king. First, he had found the letter from Brin stating she was turning herself in because she also possessed magic, a fact that stunned the king. The second was not all shocking. Jeremy knew Duke Dubar had wanted the crown for some time now, so he was not very surprised when he read the second letter. What did amaze him though, was just how quickly he was to respond, and happily, to the general regarding the king’s house arrest. He had not wanted to open the letters, but the first one arrived in shabby condition, and practically opened in his hands.

  After reading what had been enclosed in the first one, Jeremy felt he had no choice but to open the second. Sitting back on his throne, he let out a deep sigh. War was not something he ever thought he would have to deal with, and now it was becoming quite apparent that Duke Dubar would not settle for anything short of the crown.

  The main doors opened and Korben strolled into the room. Since the town folk were forbidden to enter, Korben knew the king would be alone. “Brooding again are we Jeremy,” he stated. Being so informal did not bother the king in the least.

  Jeremy gave him a smile, which showed no amusement. “Yes. So many things happening of late and I am powerless to stop any of them.” He handed the letters to Korben and waited until he was done reading them before he spoke again. “We are about to be stuck in a civil war.”

  Korben moved and sat down in front of Jeremy. “Duke Dubar assumes you have no defences. He doesn’t realize your entire town is filled with soldiers.”

  “Yes, that is true. He thinks they were all disbanded by the Order twenty years ago when I moved here. Dubar has no idea most of my men followed me here.” Realizing this truth brought a real smile to the king’s face.

  Korben smiled too. “It's about time you stopped your moping about,” he said jokingly, then is voice became more sombre. “I know it has been hard, especially with finding out Brin has abilities, and was turning herself in. We have to plan for Dubar’s attack. We know it will not come for a while, with him having to muster up some soldiers, but it will come.”

  Jeremy stared at his Captain of the Guard, the only person directly linked to the King’s Guard from all those years ago, and nodded. “I am not allowed to leave the castle, but you can. Especially if it is on the king’s business. The Order knows I will want to make sure my subjects are all right, even if I am temporarily stripped of my title. You will need to get word to the men in the town.”

  Korben stood. “It's good to see you becoming your old self again. I thought I was going to have to slap some sense into you.” Then he turned and ran out of the throne room, before Jeremy could come up with a response.

  Jeremy watched as Korben disappeared from sight and laughed. Then he got up and headed for his study. Plans had to be drawn up and he figured now was as good a time as any.

  For almost a week, Korben slipped out of the castle doing some errand or another. The Maget had twenty soldiers to control the martial law, and the two ordered to stand guard at the front gate had gotten used to seeing him come and go and had stopped asking questions by the third day. Korben had thought it would take at least a week to convince them he was on the king's order to speak with each house individually, just to make sure they were all right. He was not about to let his good fortune go to waste, and started setting a plan into motion. Jeremy had thought it a good idea to get as many men as were available, back into training.

  This was not a task which could be easily done with the town being under martial law. Travel was only allowed from sunrise to sunset. Anyone caught out after dark was to be thrown in the dungeon. It was good fortune that no one in the town of Klayhern had disobeyed this order, or at least no one had yet been caught.

  The biggest problem, in Jeremy’s mind, was loyalty. He had no idea how any of the townspeople were going to react to him now that the truth was out. This was one of Korben’s many tasks. The first thing he was to say when arriving at every household was that the charges were true. He did indeed know his family had magical abilities, and was not ashamed. Jeremy hoped that in telling the truth, his people would find it in their hearts to forgive, and possibly still be loyal to him.

  On his seventh day, Korben reported all he had learned, and done, during the week. It had been important that he and the king were rarely seen discussing matters when the Maget soldiers were about. A group of about five usually patrolled inside the castle. It somewhat annoyed Jeremy when another group of fifty soldiers showed up and had taken over the old soldier barracks, but he knew he had to allow it.

  When Korben arrived back at the palace, Jeremy was waiting in his office. “Well?” he asked impatiently.

  Korben sat down and stared hard at the king. “Things are not as bad as we thought. It would appear the subjects of Klayhern are still loyal to their king.”

  Jeremy let out a long sigh and sat back in his chair, knowing Korben had more to say.

  “I'm not sure if this news is good or bad, but the order for martial law is to be removed tomorrow. General Traug will be arriving sometime soon with even more soldiers and I'm not sure how we should react to this.”

  The news of the general returning upset the king. He and Olrond had been good friends for many years and the king knew it had been hard on the general to place him under house arrest. Jeremy also knew Olrond was fiercely loyal to the Order. “We must not assume this is ill news. This may be something which will work in our favour.”

  Korben wasn’t so sure, but didn’t voice his opinions. “What are we going to do? Those loyal to you have begun their training, in secret of course, and with the martial law lifted, it should make it easier. However, what will happen once the general arrives? What if he becomes suspicious?”

  All of Korben’s questions were valid ones, but ones the king didn’t want to dwell on. “We have too much at stake to worry. The men will just have to be careful and with any luck, the general will allow me to hold court again. It would make it easier to communicate with everyone.”

  Again, Korben was not so sure of the general's intentions, but kept the thought to himself. “May I take my leave? I haven't eaten yet today.”

  Jeremy waved him off. “Of course, but take your meal in your room. We still have much to discuss. I will join you shortly.”

  Korben nodded, rose, then headed for the kitchen. He wasn't sure what Jeremy still wanted to discuss with him that couldn't wait, but decided to focus on getting some food. He was famished.

  When Korben arrived at the kitchen, he found Bastle hard at work. He was the one townsman who was allowed to come and go as he pleased. Jeremy had been trying for years to get him to move into the castle, but he refused. Bastle would go on and on about how he needed his space from the royal family and their constant badgering. He was old, close to his sixtieth summer, but you would not know it by watching him. His movements were quick and precise, and on more than one occasion, Korben would comment on how he was glad the man was just a head cook, not a soldier. The way he handled a knife made some people wonder if Bastle was always a cook, but none dared to ask.

  His appearance was somewhat unusual. Having hair that was a dirty blond and always tied up, and eyes which were black, made him somewhat mismatched. If one did not know the castle head cook, one would think him a bandit or some other seedy character. Everyone in the castle knew different. To the children, he had been like an uncle, to the king, a father, often scolding him in front of his subjects. Many other nobles had commented on this behaviour, telling the king he should throw the old man in the dungeon. Of course, the king wouldn’t hear any of that type of talk regarding the old cook,
and would immediately dismiss any who even suggested it.

 

  Korben cleared his throat to announce his presence, but Bastle was already aware he had entered the room. “Finally gettin’ some food in ya,” he said.

  “Yes, what’s available?”

  “Well, we got some hens about ready to come off of the spit, and a mix of fruits, cheese 'n breads. I'm thinkin’ yur wantin’ a bit of everything.” Bastle didn’t wait for an answer, and was already loading up a platter for Korben. “And let me guess, havin’ it in your room?” Korben smiled. Nothing ever got past the old cook. “Yes, please have it sent up along with some wine as soon as you can.”

  Bastle just waved him to go, and Korben headed to his room.

  When he arrived, Korben wasn’t surprised to see the king already inside, and waiting. If it had been anyone else, Korben would have thrown him out on his behind for entering without permission, but his relationship with Jeremy was much deeper than king and head of the castle guard.

  “Bastle is having some food and wine sent up,” stated Korben, moving over to the empty chair next to his writing desk.

  Jeremy just nodded, and didn’t say a word until after the servants had brought up Korben’s food and wine. It didn’t surprise Jeremy that Bastle had sent up enough of everything for two. Nothing ever got past the old man.

  “You never did agree with my decision to move here,” stated the king, in a matter-of-fact voice.

  This wasn’t what Korben had expected. He had thought the king would want to discuss the unavoidable attack which would come from Duke Dubar. “No. I thought, as did everyone, the king's place was in Keenley, not in this forgotten northern village.”

  Jeremy nodded, while eating a bit of cheese. “I could not stand all the pomp, and this is not some forgotten village. In case you have forgotten, this was your family's home.”

  Korben hadn’t forgotten, but didn’t like to dwell on the past. “They are only my family by blood. I severed that tie many years ago.”

  Again, Jeremy nodded.

  So many secrets his family had. Korben could easily have fought for rule of the Central Lands. He was, after all, the first-born child of the Duke of Klayhern and protocol dictated any person of royal blood from either the Klayhern line or Traven line, was allowed to be king. Although it was Jeremy’s father who was the previous king, tradition stated that because they were the only two true bloodlines who could claim lineage to the kings of the past, they were allowed to fight for the right to rule. Yes, Korben could have very well contested Jeremy’s claim to the throne, but he had stepped back, kept in the shadows, and let his sister rule instead.

  “You really should tell her,” said Jeremy, after a few moments of silence.

  Korben stared at Jeremy. “Do you really think Elizanne would understand?” he asked. “And then what? Tell the world I didn't die, but chose to be raised by monks from the Temple of Allorethna? It would cause too many problems.”

  Jeremy looked deeply at Korben. He was not sure if the man was trying to convince the king or himself. Jeremy spoke again, carefully choosing his words. “Korben, I have known your secret for years and your sister for just as long. Elizanne needs to know her brother lives. She will not judge you. You were fourteen winters old, and hated the idea of ever having to fight me for rule. The monks may have been able to alter your appearance so you would go unnoticed, but your heart is still true. When she returns, you must tell her.” Jeremy paused, but then added. “She is your twin. She blamed herself for your accident. Knowing you are alive may help her with what is going on.”

  Korben now understood why he had started this conversation. The king was afraid he would never see his family again, and if he did, he wanted there to be no more secrets between them. “When she returns, I will tell her. But there is something else.”

  Jeremy looked at his friend and knew he was having a hard time with everything. “What is it?” asked the king.

  “I told my father who I was. When he became ill, I felt he needed to know. When they said he only had a few hours at most to live, I snuck in and told him the truth. He smiled at me and told me he had known all along. Apparently, the monks had informed him not long after I decided to join their order. He did not ever say anything because it had been obvious my mind had been made up.” Korben stopped, finding it hard to speak. Through tears, he finished. “He knew, Jeremy. He knew and he still let me live my life my way. His last words were that he was proud of me, and then he died.”

  “I know it was hard for you during that time, not being able to mourn your father openly. I am glad you told me,” said the king, his voice sombre.

  “So am I,” responded Korben.

  Jeremy smiled and reached for some wine. “Good. So now, let us drink and talk of days long past.”

  Korben laughed at the change in the king’s mood. Civil war was about to be started, he had no idea if his family lived or where they were, but he still wanted to celebrate. Therefore, the king and the head of the castle guard ate and drank until late into the night. Discussing times past and fond memories of their youth.

 
P. D. Stewart's Novels