David Dalglish: Wrath of Lions

King Eldrich sighed, and then leaned back in his chair, propping his elbow on the armrest so he could cup his bony chin in his palm. “First, the lesser business,” he said. The thin man’s eyes darted to his bodyguard, who stood sentry at the side of the table, and Dogon produced a folded piece of parchment from the sack hanging on his hip.

“What is this about, your Grace?” Guster asked when Dogon handed him the paper.

“Just read the letter,” replied King Eldrich. “Out loud, if you’d please.”

Laurel sank back into herself, feeling just as lost as ever. Here she was, privy to some sort of strange, private meeting, and she had yet to be acknowledged by the king. And it was so damn cold . She wished she were home in bed, her blankets piled high atop her.

Guster’s eyes scanned the words on the page, and once he reached the bottom, he glanced across the table at Dirk.

“I’m sorry,” the old man said. “Dirk, your brother, Deacon, has passed away.”

Dirk grunted, his expression unchanging. “Figured as much, though it took them long enough to tell me. How did he die?”

The old man scanned the letter again, then shrugged. “It doesn’t say.”

“No matter,” replied Dirk.

“Do you wish to retrieve the body?” asked the king wearily.

Dirk shook his head.

“Deacon made his own bed when he took a secret family. I’ve made sure his true wife and children are cared for. Honestly, Deacon’s been dead to me for some time.”

“You shouldn’t be so harsh,” said Guster. “Your brother paid his penance to Karak with his life.”

“He did? And how did he do that?”

Guster shrugged. “The letter doesn’t say, but we have both heard Clovis Crestwell say those words.”

“Nevertheless, his actions allowed countless innocents to die,” Dirk muttered under his breath. He glanced up at King Eldrich and asked, “Any word on his whore and bastards?”

The king frowned. “No. It seems they have…disappeared, along with most everyone else in the delta. According to Lord Commander Avila, his body was found in front of the destroyed temple. The citizens of Haven seemed to have left it behind when they fled their home.” He held his arms out wide, his voice dripping with derision. “But then again, I am but a puppet king. We’re lucky I received word of Deacon’s demise at all, even if it was six months late.”

Laurel scratched at her temple, utterly baffled by the conversation. She cleared her throat to gather her courage, and all eyes turned to her.

“I apologize for being rude, your Grace,” she said sheepishly, “but I don’t understand. Why am I here?”

The king smiled at her, a spark of life returning to his eyes. “Ah, Councilwoman Lawrence. You are here at my behest.”

“Why?”

King Eldrich peered at each person in the room, then back at her. “Because you are young. Because you are nice to look at. And because Halfhorn has told me you’re a bright young woman, and I often find myself surrounded by cravens and fools.” He chuckled. “By that bastard Karak, some have called me both on more than one occasion.”

“You aren’t either, your Grace,” she replied, trying to ignore his blasphemy.

He waved his hand at her. “We shall find out soon enough.”

Laurel frowned. Guster’s wrinkled hand fell atop hers, and the old man leaned forward, speaking kindly.

“These are trying times, Laurel, and there are few to be trusted. I have vouched that you are one of those few.”

“I…I’m honored.”

“And now that Crestwell has been replaced by the First Man as the Highest, the need for secrecy is paramount, which is why I cancelled court today and asked you to come here in secret,” the king said. He lowered his head and shook it. “Clovis was an uppity fuck to be sure, but I trust the one who now whispers in Karak’s ear even less.”

Laurel swallowed hard. Clovis had become a rarity around the castle over the last few months, and the last time she’d seen him, he had looked…wrong. His head of platinum hair had been shaved clean off, his body had been hunched at odd angles, and his eyes had developed an unhealthy red hue. She thought of her father, dying in his bed back in Omnmount, and wondered if perhaps the Highest were succumbing to the Wasting as well. The thought of one of Karak’s first creations, a supposed immortal developing such a sickness, gave her the shivers. The First Families were all but dying out. What would become of Neldar if none were left to guide them?

“What bothers you, girl?” asked the king.

“Nothing,” she replied. She knew she must be strong before these men. It was a great honor to have been asked to this meeting, and she would not ruin it by exposing her weakness. Lifting her shoulders back, she took a deep breath and said, “However, I do not understand the need for secrecy, even if Clovis Crestwell is no longer the Highest. This is still Karak’s kingdom, is it not? Does our Divinity not walk among us? What do we have to fear?”

All four men-Dogon included-burst into laughter. Laurel forced herself not to blush.

“There is much you do not know,” said Dirk when the laughing died down. “For example, what do you know of Haven?”

She shrugged. “The truth. The delta was filled with thieves, murderers, and godless heathens who built a blasphemous temple. Karak and the Highest ordered them to tear it down, and when they refused, they were bathed in fire.”

“True enough,” said King Vaelor. “And then Ashhur appeared, and the brother gods came to blows. A formerly peaceful union was broken, paving the path to war.”

Laurel nodded.

“And that, my dear girl, is the problem,” said Guster. “Karak neglects his city. He locks himself in the temple beyond the walls, preparing for war with his brother, when he should be here, helping keep the peace. Our children receive no blessings; our frightened populace is granted no assurances. Instead, Jacob Eveningstar has appeared and grasped Clovis’s mantle, taking a new name and foreswearing his loyalty to Ashhur.” He offered a disgusted gesture. “Our men march in armies now, leaving our streets teeming with cowards and thieves. And that doesn’t take into account those damn corpses hanging on the wall. The blasphemers I could perhaps understand, but Crian and the western deserter? It makes no sense. If Karak cared about his people in the slightest, he wouldn’t have allowed the First Man to create such a display.”

Laurel shivered. The First Man had long black hair and a haunting stare, and he carried himself with such confidence that the mere sight of him was intimidating. However, besides his command to hang the bodies of the treasonous outside the castle, the man who now called himself Highest Velixar had done nothing but linger in the background during Council meetings. Sightings of him were rare.

“I know little of the new Highest,” she said. “But beyond a grisly reminder to the disloyal, what has he done that warrants such secrecy and blasphemous talk? And as for the coming war, it was Ashhur who broke his promise by interfering with Karak’s punishment of his own creations. What would you have our Divinity do? Paradise must be taught a lesson, just like those in Haven.”

“There is a time for war, and there is a time for diplomacy,” said Guster softly. “I fear the latter would be more appropriate now.”

“Are you doubting our god?” asked Laurel, aghast.

“We are,” replied King Vaelor. The king leaned forward, his stubble-covered cheeks flushing red. “After all, we are free men, are we not? That was supposed to be Karak’s promise-every man was to live freely so long as he pledged his loyalty to his creator. Let us ignore the paradox of that statement and deal with the facts as we know them. Karak’s law says we are to honor him, but does it say anywhere that we are never to question his decisions?”