Toby Neighbors: Crying Havoc

“May I come in?” Zollin asked.

King Felix looked up and then nodded.

“What do you suspect the army will do?” Zollin asked.

“I don’t know,” the King said. “Offendorl is a powerful wizard. He may have plans up his sleeve that we can’t imagine.”

“If I take him out, what will happen?”

“Again, that depends,” said King Felix. “If Baskla or Ortis sends troops to reinforce the armies from Osla and Falxis, then we’ll be lucky to survive at all.”

“How did this happen?” Zollin asked. “Is it really all because of me?”

“You know, I’m not a very wise man, Zollin. I’ve had the benefit of being King, but I didn’t earn this position, I inherited it. My choices, good or bad, have long-lasting consequences that impact thousands of people, most of whom I don’t even know. That’s just the way life is for me, and for you.”

“We have to stop the fighting,” Zollin said. “Do you think the army will leave if you turn me over to the Torr?”

“Not without exacting a great number of concessions from Yelsia.”

“Still, people might live,” Zollin said.

“Surrender would allow people to live, that is true. I thought we could beat that army. I thought you would come in and fight for us, but that was foolish of me. I’m afraid I haven’t been very kingly when it comes to you, Zollin. I thought I could use you to elevate Yelsia, but what I really wanted was to elevate myself. To do something my father and his father hadn’t been able to do. I wanted to stand up to the Torr and be truly independent once more, like the kingdoms of old. Yet here I sit, defiant and surly, but still just a man. I don’t know what I want anymore.”

“I know what I want,” Zollin said. “I want peace. I want to live my life without being hunted by the Torr. I’ve wrestled with what to do since Branock led the wizards of the Torr to my village. It seems like death and destruction follow me wherever I go.”

“I don’t know what is best for you, Zollin,” the King said. “But I know this: Offendorl rules the wizards of the Torr like they are his slaves. I don’t know much about magic, but I doubt you’ll find what you’re looking for with him.”

“So how do we get out of this mess? I don’t want to slay armies. That’s a road I’m not willing to walk down. I know that in the past wizards were used to fight battles, but I don’t want to kill people. That’s not who I am or who I want to be.”

King Felix looked at Zollin for a long time without speaking. Then he sighed and nodded his head.

“No, it isn’t. I’m sorry I pushed you toward that, Zollin. I let my own ambitions cloud my judgement.”

“And I have let my grief cloud mine. I’m sorry too,” Zollin said.

“I will send messengers to seek peace in the morning. I would appreciate your help in that matter,” the King said, “if you are comfortable serving as a counselor to your King. I promise I won’t force you to do anything against your will.”

“Well, I’m going to get a little sleep, then,” Zollin said. “I’ll see you in the morning, Sire.”

“Sleep well,” King Felix said as Zollin left.

The King waited for an hour before he rang the little bell that summoned his personal servant. The man was still wiping sleep from his eyes when he appeared.

“I want you to find Commander Hausey for me,” he said. “I want to see him here, and I don’t want anyone else to know about it. Is that clear?”

“Yes, my King,” said the servant.

“Good, go quickly. He should be in the military compound.”

The servant bowed and hurried from the room. King Felix stood up and drained the last of the wine from his goblet. Then he went to his desk and used one of the many large quills to write a message on thick parchment. He folded the paper and sealed it, pressing his ring into the soft wax to make an impression.

He was just pouring himself another goblet of wine when Commander Hausey came into the room. His face was puffy from sleep, but other than that he looked ready for any task his King might give him.

“I understand that you put Zollin on trial when he was in Felson,” the King said.

“Yes, my King. I felt it was necessary because of the crimes my soldiers were accusing him of.”

“Oh, I understand completely,” the King said to reassure his commander. “I believe you drugged him, is that correct?”

“Yes, my King. It was the only way to keep him under control.”

“What drug did you use?”

“It was just lavintha combined with milk thistle. It’s what the healers use to dull pain. Enough of it renders a patient unconscious.”

“And how did you administer the drug?”

Commander Hausey was torn between his friendship with Zollin and his duty to his King. He knew he had to answer; the only question was, could he live with himself if he answered truthfully?

“We mixed it in some fruit juice, which we gave him the morning of the trial,” Hausey said, the words tumbling out of him and causing him to sag.

“Fine. I need you to take this message to the enemy,” King Felix said. “Give it only to the wizard Offendorl personally, and wait for his reply. This task is of the utmost importance. Complete it well and you shall be richly rewarded,” the King said.

Commander Hausey snapped to attention and saluted his King.

“Go quickly. I must have the answer before sunrise,” said King Felix.

He watched as Hausey hurried from the room. Then he sent his servant to prepare a mix of lavintha and milk thistle. He closed his eyes and slept as he waited for the response to his message.

Offendorl sat brooding in his wagon. Sleep would not come, but he had not expected it to. He was frustrated at the way things had turned out. He had not expected Zollin to know that lightning was the one thing dragons feared, nor how to conjure a storm. Someone must have instructed the young wizard, and Offendorl, like his minions before him, had underestimated Zollin’s magical skills. Now he would have to fight the boy, and that was not what he wanted. It was so much easier to usurp power when it was given willingly. Now he would have to take the boy’s power, and Zollin would be constantly striving to get it back.

The dragon had fled north again. Offendorl was coming to think of the beast as a skittish creature. It ran to the mountains at every opportunity. The distance was not a concern for Offendorl, as he still had the golden crown that enabled him to call the beast whenever he wanted. He was certain now that the dragon could not resist his commands, and that knowledge was enough for him at the moment.

There was a knock on the wagon’s door. Offendorl scowled and stood up, his ancient joints popping as he did so. He opened the door and found one of the many military aides waiting for him.

“Excuse me, Master Offendorl, but there is a messenger from Orrock with a letter for you. He says he can only give it you and has to wait for your answer. It has the royal seal.”

“Fine, bring him to me,” Offendorl said.

He didn’t know what sort of trickery this was, but he was willing to play along for now. Curiosity had always been his weakness. He simply wanted to know everything, and in some ways that passion had aided him. He had grown in power as he increased his knowledge, but there were, of course, times like this when his curiosity seemed like more trouble that it was worth.

Commander Hausey came striding purposefully toward the wizard. He was surrounded by no fewer than eight guards, all with weapons drawn. Hausey handed Offendorl the message. The seal was genuine, and the ancient wizard slid a crooked finger under the wax, popping it free from the paper. He unfolded the message and read it, his eyes narrowing gleefully as he read it.