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“Look at the swords he’s carrying. A man wearing one—maybe he knows how to use it, maybe not. A man carries two—he probably don’t know nothing about swords, but he wants you to think he does. But a man carrying three swords—that’s a lot of weight. No one’s gonna haul that much steel around unless he makes a living using them.”
“Oh, I think you’d be quite surprised to discover the number of compromises made to maintain a smoothly functioning kingdom.
“So, they’ll steal anything for anyone?” Alenda asked. “The ones you hired for me, I mean.” “No, not anyone—only those who are willing to pay the number of tenents equal to the job.” “Then it doesn’t matter if the client is a criminal or a king?” Emily chimed in. Mason snorted. “Criminal or king, what’s the difference?”
The gentry hired them because they possessed fortunes and could afford to pay for their games. To them, that was what life was—one big chess match with real knights, kings, and pawns. There was no good or evil, no right or wrong. It was all just politics.
Their business was profitable but ugly. Just another game he played in a world where heroes were legends and honor was a myth.
That was always the problem. Neither could think of any lawful business that was right for them.
“Oh, right—you have to forgive me. A minute ago I was about to be executed, and now I’m going to kidnap a king. Things are changing a bit fast for me.”
“Sounds like a really good plan to me,” Hadrian declared. “Royce?” “I like any plan where I don’t die a horrible death.”
“By brutalizing me, the two of you have sentenced yourselves to death! You know that, don’t you?” “That’s a bit redundant, don’t you think, Your Majesty?” Royce inquired. “Seeing as how you already sentenced us to death once today.”
“Another good deed?” Royce asked. “You’ll remember where the last one ended us?” Hadrian sighed. “There it is! Didn’t have to save it too long, did you? Yes, I did screw up, but that isn’t to say I’m wrong this time.
“Actually,” Royce said, “I don’t have any political leanings. They get in the way of my job. Noble or commoner, people all lie, cheat, and pay me to do their dirty work. Regardless of who rules, the sun still shines, the seasons still change, and people still conspire. If you must place labels on attitudes, I prefer to think of myself as an individualist.”
“Then I suppose this is a perfect time to tell you I’m officially bestowing the title of royal protectors on you and Hadrian, now that I’m certain you aren’t trying to kill me. You’ll be responsible for defending the life of your king.”
Royce grinned. “I suppose this is a good time to tell you I don’t serve kings—unless they pay me.”
“The ability to convince others that your life is worth more than theirs must be a prerequisite for being king.” “Not a prerequisite but it certainly helps,”
“Hadrian, we’ve just been promoted to royal protectors.” “Does it pay more?” “Actually, it does. It also weighs less. Give the prince back his sword.”
“Novron is believed to be the son of Maribor, sent to aid us in our darkest hour. There are six actual gods. Erebus is the father of all of the gods and he made the world of Elan. He brought forth three sons and a daughter. The eldest son, Ferrol, is a master of magic and created the elves. His second son is Drome, the master craftsman who created the dwarves. The youngest is Maribor and he, of course, created man. It was Erebus’s daughter, Muriel, who created the animals, birds, and the fish in the sea.”
“That’s five.” “Yes, there is also Uberlin, the son of Erebus and Muriel.” “The god of darkness,” Alric put in. “Yeah, I’ve heard of him, but wait—are you saying the father had a child with his own daughter?” “It was a terrible mistake,” Myron explained. “Erebus forced himself on Muriel while in a drunken rage. Their union resulted in the birth of Uberlin.”
Maribor for help. He heard their pleas and tricked his brother Drome into forging the great sword Rhelacan. Then he convinced his other brother Ferrol to enchant the weapon. All he needed was a warrior to wield it, so he came to Elan in disguise and slept with a mortal woman. Their union produced Novron the Great.
You’re dangerous.” “Yes indeed, dear prince,” the wizard said, and his tone grew serious. “So allow me to grant thee a bit of free counsel—use not the word insist with regards to me. Thou hast but only a small spill to contend with; do not tempt a deluge.”
As a child, Alric had thought being king meant doing whatever he wished. But over the years, he saw what it really meant—compromise and appeasement.
A king could not rule without the support of his nobles and the nobles were never happy. They always wanted something and expected the king to deliver.
when speaking of one’s reputation, it does not boost your position to make excuses when you lose a contest.
“How did you do that?” Mauvin asked. “I performed a flawless Vi’shin Flurry against you. It’s one of the most advanced maneuvers of the Tek’chin. No one has ever countered it before.” Hadrian shrugged. “First time for everything.”
“The church hasn’t lasted for three thousand years by not thinking ahead.
Our god is not squeamish at the sight of spilled blood, and it’s often necessary to prune weak branches to keep the tree strong.
It’s evidence of self-loathing. When you are so ashamed of your actions, thoughts, or intentions, you lie rather than accepting yourself for who you really are—or, in this case, pretend something happened when it didn’t. The idea of how others see you becomes more important than the reality of you. It’s like when a man would rather die than be thought of as a coward. His life is not as important to him as his reputation. In the end, who is braver? The man who dies rather than be thought of as a coward or the man who lives willing to face who he really is?”
It was not difficult to convince the poor and the destitute to take up arms against the soldiery who policed them. In addition, there were those hoping for a possibility to do a little looting, or perhaps receive some reward from the crown if they prevailed.
This, and his gambling habit, kept him in poverty. Of course, he never really considered the gambling to be the real problem; it was the guards who were responsible.
“This is not going as well as I hoped,” Alric complained. “Battle rarely ever does, Your Majesty,”
“Sure the gentry appear all nice and friendly, but if I’d killed him, even though they wanted him dead anyway, you can be sure they wouldn’t be patting me on the back, saying, ‘Good job.’ No, it’s best to avoid killing nobles.” “At least not where there are witnesses,” Royce said with a grin.
