Stephen King - The Eyes of the Dragon

The room was large enough to hold five hundred, but there were only seven there that afternoon. Six of them huddled close together, as if it made them nervous to be so few in a place meant for so many. The royal arms of the Kingdom-a unicorn spearing a dragon-hung on one of the circular stone walls, and Peter found his gaze returning to this again and again. Besides himself, Peyna was there, and Flagg (it was Flagg, of course, who sat slightly apart from the others), and four of the Kingdom’s Great Lawyers. There were ten Great Lawyers in all, but the other six were at various far-flung places in Delain, hearing cases. Peyna had decided he couldn’t wait for them. He knew he had to move fast and decisively, or the Kingdom might bleed. He knew it, but it galled him to know he would need the help of this cool young murderer to avert such bloodshed.

That Peter was a murderer was something Anders Peyna had now decided in his own heart. It wasn’t the box, the green sand, or even the burning mouse that had decided him. It was Peter’s tears. Peter, to do him credit, looked neither guilty nor weak now. He was pale but calm, completely in charge of himself again.

Peyna cleared his throat. The sound echoed dully back from the forbidding stone walls of the court chamber. He pressed a hand to his forehead and was not entirely surprised to find a sheen of cold sweat there. He had heard testimony in hundreds of great and solemn cases; he had sent more men than he cared to remember beneath the headsman’s axe. But never had he thought he would have to attend a “meeting” such as this, or the trial of a prince for the murder of his royal father… and such a trial would surely follow if all went as he hoped this afternoon. It was right, he thought, that he be sweating, and right that the sweat should be cold.

Just a meeting. Nothing legal here; nothing official; nothing of the Kingdom. But none of them-not Peyna, not Flagg, not the Great Lawyers, not Peter himself-were fooled. This was the real trial. This meeting. The power was here. That burning mouse had set a great course of events in motion. That course would either be turned here, as a great river may be turned near its source when it is still a brook, or it would be allowed to run onward, gathering power as it went, until no force on earth could turn it or stand before it.

Just a meeting, Anders Peyna thought, and wiped more sweat from his forehead.

Flagg watched the proceedings with a lively eye. Like Peyna, he knew that all would be decided here, and he felt confident.

Peter’s head was up, his gaze firm. He met the eyes of each member of this informal jury in turn.

The stone walls frowned down on all seven. The spectators’ benches were empty, but Peyna seemed to feel the weight of phantom eyes, eyes that demanded justice be rendered in this terrible matter.

“My Lord,” Peyna said at last, “the sun made you King three hours ago.”

Peter looked at Peyna, surprised but silent.

“Yes,” Peyna said, as if Peter had spoken. The Great Lawyers were nodding, and they looked dreadfully solemn. “There has been no coronation, but a coronation is only a public event. It is, for all its solemnity, show and not substance. God, the law, and the sun make a King, not the coronation. You are King at this very minute, legally able to command me, all of us here, the entire Kingdom. This puts us in a terrible dilemma. Do you understand what it is?”

“Yes,” Peter said gravely. “You think your King is a murderer.”

Peyna was a little surprised by this bluntness, but not entirely unhappy with it. Peter had always been a blunt boy; it was a pity that his surface bluntness had concealed such depths of calculation, but the important thing was that such bluntness, probably the result of a boy’s stupid bravado, would speed things up.

“What we believe, my Lord, doesn’t matter. Guilt or innocence is for a court to determine-so I’ve always been taught, so I believe with my most sincere heart. There is only one exception to this. Kings are above the law. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“But-” Peyna raised his finger. “But this crime was committed before you were King. So far as I know, this terrible situation has never come before a court of Delain before. The possibilities are terrible. Anarchy, chaos, civil war. To avert all of these things, my Lord, we must have your help.”

Peter looked at him gravely. “I will help if I can,” he said.

And I think-I pray-you will agree to what I am about to propose,

Peyna thought. He was conscious of fresh sweat on his forehead, but he didn’t wipe it off this time. Peter was only a boy, but he was a bright boy-he might take it as a sign of weakness. You’ll say you’re agreeing for the good of the Kingdom, but a boy who could have the monstrous, twisted courage to kill his own father is also, I hope, a boy who cannot help believing he will get away with it. You believe we will help you cover this up, but oh my Lord, you are so wrong.

Flagg, who could almost read these thoughts, raised his hand to his mouth to cover a smile. Peyna hated him, but Peyna had become his number-one helper without even knowing it.

“I want you to put aside the crown,” Peyna said.

Peter looked at him with grave surprise. “Renounce the throne?” he asked. “I… I don’t know, my Lord Judge-General. I should have to think about that before I said yes or no. That might be hurting the Kingdom by trying to help it-as a doctor may kill a sick man by giving him too much medicine.”

The lad’s clever, Flagg and Peyna thought together.

“You misunderstand me. It’s not a renunciation of the throne I ask for. Only that you put the crown aside until this matter has been decided. If you are found innocent of your father’s murder-”

“As I will be,” Peter said. “If my father had ruled until I was old and toothless, it would have made me perfectly happy. I wanted only to serve him and support him and love him in all I did.”

“Yet your father is dead, and you stand accused by circum-stance.”

Peter nodded.

“If you are found innocent, you would resume the crown. If you are found guilty-”

The Great Lawyers looked nervous at this, but Peyna did not flinch.

“If you are found guilty, you would be taken to the top of the Needle, where you would spend the rest of your life. None of the royal family may be executed; that law is a thousand years old.”

“And Thomas would become King?” Peter asked thought-fully. Flagg stiffened slightly.

“Yes.”

Peter frowned, deep in thought. He looked terribly tired, but not confused or afraid, and Flagg felt a faint stirring of fear.

“Suppose I refuse?”

“If you refuse, then you become King in spite of terrible charges which have not been answered. Many of your subjects-most, in light of the evidence-will believe they have come to be ruled by a young man who murdered his own father to gain the throne. I think there will be revolt and civil war, and that those things will come before much time has passed.

“As for myself, I would resign my post and set out toward the west. I am old to begin over, but I should have to try to do so just the same. My life has been the law, and I could not serve a King who has not knelt to the law in such a matter as this.”

There was silence in the chamber, a silence that seemed very long. Peter sat with his head bowed, the heels of his hands planted against his eyes. They all watched and waited. Now even Flagg felt a thin film of sweat on his brow.

Finally Peter raised his head and took his hand from his eyes.

“Very well,” he said. “Here is my command as King. I will put the crown aside until I am cleared of my father’s murder. You, Peyna, will serve Delain as Chancellor during the time it is without a royal head. I would that the trial should take place as soon as may be-tomorrow, even, if that is possible. I will be bound by the decision of the court.