David Dalglish - The Prison of Angels

Aurelia would have told him it was tactless, but Harruq was too amused by the shock in Kevin’s eyes at such a blunt accusation to care.

“You bastard,” Kevin said, his voice rising. “This is my sister you’re talking about, my nephew! You think I’d want them dead because of my frustrations with Antonil and his angels?”

“The thought occurred to me,” Harruq said. He stood, wanting to intimidate Kevin with his height and size. Kevin, however, seemed far from intimidated. He looked furious.

“When Antonil reclaimed Mordeina, his rule was tenuous at best. Many lords wanted to break up the nation, with the angels as the sole unifier among the various territories instead of a king. I’m the one who prevented that. Regardless of all he accomplished, Antonil was just a lowly soldier, without a hint of noble blood in him. Susan gave him that. She gave him legitimacy, she gave him a son. She became the queen he needed so others would view him as king. And all the while I whispered in the ears of other lords, telling them we needed a king, we needed a ruler.”

Harruq shifted uncomfortably, feeling a bit of his righteous fury dwindling down, becoming more petulant and uncertain. Still, he had to continue. He had to know for certain.

“You act as if you gained nothing,” he said. “Your sister’s rise in power only increased your own. And because of that, you’re now safe to rally men around you, spouting out hate and ignorance.”

Kevin’s eyes widened.

“Do you know why I rally those people in the streets?” he asked Harruq. “I do it to protect Susan and her son. My blood will become the blood of kings. My sister a queen, my nephew the first of Mordan’s new generation of rulers. But every single bit of that is in danger so long as priests and angels lord over us, bringing us their rules, handing out their law with impunity.”

Kevin spat at Harruq’s feet.

“You think you know me, you think you understand why I do these things. You’re a damn fool, half-orc. Look to the heavens, and for once, open your eyes. In my heart I do not believe my nephew will ever be king. How long until a man with wings sits on that throne? And what will we do then? What will we lowly, simple humans do?”

Harruq was caught off guard by his sincerity, his ferocity. Was it possible he was uninvolved? Looking back at it, it did seem a slight stretch. If Kevin had problems with Antonil and the angels, wouldn’t it make more sense that he strike at them instead? Despite all his annoyances, he’d never shown any hostility toward his sister.

Thinking of the angels reminded him of similar matters he’d been delaying bringing up, but with Susan absent, there was really no better time.

“You have to stop these rallies,” Harruq said. “The city’s already in unrest because of the army’s departure, and you’re just making it worse.”

“Oftentimes things must get worse before getting better,” Kevin argued.

“Riots will begin any day now,” Harruq said. “People will die. This needs to stop.”

“Then stop it!” Kevin gestured wildly. “I only give voice and reason to their unrest. I only allow them to see the reason for their anger. Do you think Mordeina is the only place turning against this oppression? The countryside is worse, so much worse, and yet I’m not there to stir it up. For five years now the angels have dealt death and spared lives, all without a single care for the desires of mortal men.”

“Then what do you want me to do about it?” Harruq asked. “How in the fires of the Abyss am I supposed to stop it?”

Kevin calmed down a bit, becoming more earnest, more businesslike.

“At the start of the month I sent riders to all four corners of Mordan,” he said. “Every single settlement has already received my request. I’m calling in elders, spokesmen, anyone who can come and speak for the people of their respective towns. It shouldn’t be long before the first of them arrives.”

“Why? What do you think this will accomplish?”

“We live under the rule of angels who supposedly follow a god,” Kevin said. “A god that none of us can hear, a god whose own priests say now slumbers after the war. Yet we are powerless before their rule. Some men live, and others die, and there is no consistency, no justice. Murderers and rapists should be strung up to hang, yet many find themselves forgiven, only to repeat their crimes months later. We need a voice. We need a say in these things. I’m summoning them all to hold a council. I want the angels to hear the concerns of those they rule over. I want them to admit they aren’t gods, to open their eyes and realize that we do not serve them. They serve us.”

There was some wisdom to the idea, Harruq had to admit that. And over the past several days he’d been hearing of the growing unrest, especially over a supposed attack in a village that no one could identify for certain despite his best efforts. If this council might prevent riots, it’d be worthwhile. And the representatives were already on their way…

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“Make the angels attend. Make them promise to listen, and convene a vote on the requests our people give. And if not…” Kevin gestured to the throne. “You are steward of the kingdom, ruler over the men therein. If the angels will not answer to you, then what is the purpose of having a king?”

“I’ll talk to Ahaesarus,” Harruq said. “I can’t promise their cooperation, but if this will help, then I’m willing to try. But in return, you need to calm the people instead of inflaming them. You’re getting what you want, so give me what I want, or I’ll send troops to arrest you in the street no matter what Susan thinks.”

“Your eloquence knows no bounds,” Kevin said, bowing. “Tell the angels to convene the council a week from tomorrow. That should be enough time for everyone to arrive. Now if I might have my leave, I’d like to check on my family.”

The lord turned and marched to the side of the throne, into the darker recesses of the pillars.

“Oh, Kevin,” Harruq said, unable to help himself. “There is one way to prove to me your innocence. Stand before an angel. Swear to him you had nothing to do with the assassination attempt, and let him judge whether you speak truth or lie.”

Kevin looked over his shoulder as he stopped before the door leading deeper into the castle. Instead of the anger he expected, the man only laughed.

“You’re such a fool,” he said. “A damn, stupid fool in so far over your head you haven’t a hope to avoid drowning. The angels aren’t your savior, Harruq. They’re your executioner. The sooner you realize that, the better.”

The door slammed shut behind him, and Harruq had only impotent rage to offer in return.

Qurrah was not much for putting off uncomfortable things, so when they’d been assigned their room in the castle, and Tessanna slumbered restlessly from their journey, he left her there and sought out Harruq’s room. To his mild surprise, two guards stood before the door, and they tensed at his arrival.

“I only wish to ask my brother a question,” he told them.

One of the guards rapped on the door. After hearing it unlock from within, the door popped open, and Harruq’s face peered out. Seeing Qurrah, he grunted and opened it the rest of the way, revealing him standing there with only a loose bed robe wrapped around his muscular body.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“No,” Qurrah said. He glanced at the guards, then decided there was nothing too unusual about his request. He’d still be honoring Azariah’s desire for privacy.

“How does one get to Avlimar?” he asked.

Harruq raised an eyebrow.