***

  The large expanse of the dining hall echoed with the harmonious sounds of lutes and flutes. The din of the chattering people wasn’t invasive, pervasive though it was. Ned was feeling a lot more comfortable among normal, yet completely unknown people. He was sitting next to Master Sisyphus who was enjoying a cup of mead, his watchful eyes meandering around the room, and always affording Damon and Fidias who had been assigned as honorary guards to Lernea and Parcifal a wary gaze that kept them on their toes, even if that did not add much to their overall height.

  “So, we won,” Ned began reiterating. Sisyphus nodded and sipped quietly.

  “And Bo, the bunny, turned back into a human,” Ned continued, underlying his words by tapping a hand softly on the meat-laden table. Sisyphus nodded once more, after pausing to think for a moment.

  “And you don’t remember how any of it happened exactly?” Ned asked with worry in his voice. Master Sisyphus cleared his throat before answering: “What I can clearly remember is that I used the Metathaumaturgic device as a Resonating Amplifier for a powerful disintegration spell, just when Bo got in the way.”

  “So you kind of disintegrated her? Along with the huge crystal the Ygg had been built?” Ned asked sounding rather concerned about what had happened to the crystal. He then heard Judith’s voice as she pulled the empty, heavy, thick-built chair beside him and sat down.

  “A major victory. Quick, with little to no losses at all. Decisive, informative. Diplomatically convenient. One for the history books,” she said smiling confidently and eyed the table, searching for a specific, choice-cut of meat. “I hear the Dwelvar sausage is quite spicy and juicy, lady Judith,” Master Sisyphus said and smiled.

  “Judith!” Ned couldn’t help but say her name, sounding inappropriately superfluous and a bit dumb with his overjoyed response.

  “Ned,” she said nodding kindly and reached for a sausage. There were dozens of long, not very practical tables like this one around the dining hall, but everyone seemed to be in good spirits since food and drink was available aplenty. It was as if the world-eating menace of the Ygg had been but a mild inconvenience long past dealt with.

  “That was some very good timing with the Bellerephon,” Ned said nodding, looking at Judith in a searching, gracious manner.

  “It was luck, mostly. But I should thank you,” she replied, and took a bite off the sausage, munching it in a manner that would have Lernea baulking.

  “What for?” Ned asked with a curious smile.

  “For trusting in me. For pushing me to do something I thought I wasn’t supposed to,” she replied after swallowing.

  “You mean, command a battleship?” Ned asked somewhat puzzled.

  “No. You pushed me into believing in a cause,” she replied earnestly, and took another bite off the sausage and swallowed.

  “Eating my sister’s Kingdom away?” Parcifal interrupted harshly as she stood between Ned and Judith. They looked at her with a confused look of mild horror, before she understood they were thinking she was being serious.

  “It was a joke,” she said and smiled harmlessly. “Ned should’ve picked it up,” she added.

  “Frankly, it was crass and rather insulting,” he replied with a frown.

  “Exactly,” Parcifal said and looking rather fresh and shiny in an exquisitely crafted armor of her own, turned about and left. “Have a drink on me. It is well deserved. And try to keep Winceham sober,” she reminded Ned with a knowing look.

  “I think she insulted my abilities as a comedian,” Ned said. Sisyphus nodded, agreeing. “Yes, thoroughly so. Though I hardly know you, Ned, you don’t strike me as an especially funny person, if you don’t mind me being frank.”

  “That’s not true. I am innately funny; but that’s besides the point,” Ned said shaking his head.

  “Exactly. The point is,” Winceham said appearing on the other side of the table from underneath it, trying to stand on his chair without toppling it over, “He is not Frank. His name is Sysopas,” Winceham said and blinked furiously, grinning like a horse on a selling display.

  “Sisyphus,” the wizened old wizard and scholar corrected him without showing any feelings of being insulted.

  “That one, whatever it is, is not Frank. I know a Frank when I sees one, right love?” Winceham said and shot Judith a look that was supposed to be suave and charming, while in effect it was rather disconcerting as it made Winceham look like someone who had spent years trying to recover from a brain injury.

  “Hifs brunk, ind’t he?” Judith stopped eating and said with half her mouth full.

  “It’s a condition. He’s not exactly drunk,” Ned said and nodded apologetically like he had done so dozens of times in the past on behalf of Wince.

  A loud gong was heard then suddenly, its ringing reverberating across the large dining hall. It struck three times, before a loud, stentorian voice announced emphatically: “Now hear ye! Hear ye! Her Magnificent Eminence, First Among Equals, Scion of House Teletha, Protector of the Realm and Ascendant to the Holy Mountain, Queen Lernea, the True!”

  As he did so, Lernea appeared from behind a wide-arched doorway, Parcifal behind her, both of them looking exquisite, majestic in their armor while kind and honorable in their demeanor, as they eyed the room with an elevated sense of duty. The guests, hundreds of them, rose from their seats and bowed in total silence. It didn’t look like a sign of subservience; it rather looked like a show of sincere, deep gratitude.

  Lernea stood by a thick piece of stone, carved in the semblance of a stool or a low chair placed in the very head of the large hall, but she did not seat herself. Parcifal stood right beside her, not a step behind. They both scanned the dining hall with bright, gleaming eyes; a thin smile underlined Lernea’s words, while Parcifal looked a lot more cheerful than she had been for the past few days.

  “It hasn’t been that long if we were to measure time by the rising and the falling of the sun. Yet to me, it felt like a long, arduous journey, until I could set foot again in my home; not as a runaway traitor, or an oath-breaking coward, but as the one true rightful ruler of the Kingdom of Nomos,” she said calmly, and took a breath filled with relief.

  “I stand here before you, and I can hardly recognise most of you lords and ladies. I know though where your allegiance lies; it lies not in me, and not in my family. It lies in the laws of our great Kingdom, it lies in the rules of the Holy Mountain and the values of our forefathers. That is the very heart and essence of our being, our way of life and our code of honor. For without law and honor, we are but beasts made to look like men. Without fairness and goodness of heart, we are but tools to be used, wielded by our darker nature,” she said with a crystal clear, strong voice.

  “I came to realise, perhaps too late for comfort, how a far darker thing is out there, brooding, scheming. It is an evil of many faces, but one name: the Ygg,” Lernea said and the crowd of guests sounded uneasy, uttering prayers of protection. Lernea paused for a moment before she went on.

  “Good fortune and the guiding light of Svarna showed me the True Path; with Skrala’s might and the help of my friends, we were able to save our Kingdom, and our world indeed, of an evil that would have seen us turned into mindless slaves and our world a smoldering wreck, a breeding pit for more evil to pour itself out into the universe.”

  The crowd cheered and voices of praise rose up to the ceiling. After the crowd settled back into listening, Lernea continued.

  “And that is why I must take leave of my reigning duties, for now. Because I cannot, and will not rest, until this scourge is nothing but a memory, a footprint in the annals of our time. Haste is of paramount importance; there are certain things that have been put in motion which must be acted upon now, lest the tide turns once more against us. I have trust in you to carry on your duties like you have always done, obeying the laws and listening to the heart of the Holy Mountain. We will have the aid of our newly-found allies, bonded in the heat of battle, the proud alliance of hu
man worlds, the Human League.”

  A silence filled by lonely whispers dominated the hall. Lernea sighed and continued, her voice ringing throughout the walls of the dining hall.

  “It is thus why I name Winceham Higginsbottom Abbermouth the Third, of House Abbermouth, of the Halfuin race, to be Viceroy in my absence, to uphold the law, and protect the innocent. May the light of Svarna shine on your path, Viceroy Winceham, and Skrala lend his hand where your righteous fist may fall,” she said officiously and left just as she had entered, with Parcifal behind her, having great difficulty containing her laughter.

  “What did Lernea just say?” Ned asked Sisyphus dumbfounded.

  “You’re leaving for a place called Noymansland, tomorrow. You need to find Theo’s and Bo’s father; he probably holds the key to the Ygg menace. This is a lot larger than Nomos, Mr. Larkin. You’re in a unique position to possibly save all life as we know it,” Sisyphus said and ran his tongue across his lips, before downing the rest of his cup in one go.

  “Yes, yes, that must be quite important, but did she just name Winceham Viceroy?” Ned insisted.

  “I believe so, she did, yes.”

  “That’s like almost a king, right?” Ned asked sounding mortified.

  “Well, very roughly put, yes,” Sisyphus said and filled his cup from a pitcher, while Winceham fell off his chair and onto the stone floor with a dull thud.

  “Why would she do that? Why would anyone do that?” Ned said, sounding irrationally anxious, forming troubling mental images of Winceham as king of anything in his mind.

  “Oh, I’m sure there must be a valid reason,” Sisyphus said wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

  “Really now? Because I can’t think of any,” Ned said.

  “Maybe it’s just a game,” Judith said putting aside her plate, filled with an uncanny number of bones and leftovers. “War is nothing but politics; and politics is a game. It’s just a game, with players of any number of weaknesses and any number of strengths. It’s like we’re sitting on a giant game-board of Po,” she said and let out a burp, putting a hand on her mouth as an afterthought.

  “A game of Po?” Ned said and listened to himself as through the ears of a stranger.

  “Do you play?” Sisyphus asked casually, readying his pipe for a smoke.

  “No, I don’t. But I’m a fast learner,” Ned said and had a sip of mead himself.

  END OF BOOK III

 
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