Richard Parker - Elsewhere

“Where’s Phillip?” Gwaynn asked strapping on the belt which held his kali. He still wore his weapons wherever he went and most likely always would.

“In the main hall, waiting for you,” Bock replied. “It took some convincing from Tabernas to persuade me to come and wake you.”

Samantha snorted, but Gwaynn said nothing. He had great respect for the Toranado Weapons Master; the man would have made a fine Tar. If Phillip would just listen to Tabernas more often…

Once dressed Gwaynn came over and hugged Samantha from behind. “Go back to bed,” he whispered and gave her a quick squeeze then ran his right hand over her extended belly. “I’ll have someone wake you if anything exciting happens.”

Samantha snorted again. “If I’m sleeping and someone wakes me, it had better be for my wedding…nothing else interests me at the moment.”

“Agreed,” he replied with a smile. She climbed back into bed before he was out the door, but again sleep would not come easily.

“Phillip!” Gwaynn said with a smile, surprised that Tar Kostek, the Solitary N’dori and the High Zarina Monde were also present along with the Toranado Prince and his venerable Weapons Master Alba Tabernas. Gwaynn wondered why the others were in attendance but had little time to inquire.

Phillip turned as Gwaynn and Bock entered. “I’ll not be dissuaded again Gwaynn,” Phillip began and strode forward. “The Toranado will be leaving after the wedding…and I want Weldon.”

Gwaynn stood his ground as the Toranado Prince marched right up, stopping before him. “I know how you feel,” Gwaynn answered with genuine sympathy, though he knew there was little chance he would give in to his friend’s demands.

“He attacked my country and sacked my home city.”

Gwaynn nodded, stepped to one side, and then moved farther into the room, angling toward Kostek in the hope that his old mentor would come to his aid. “He attacked my country as well, but putting a King on trial is dangerous business.”

“But he slaughtered my countrymen and nearly drove the wits from my mother. I want my revenge as you’ve had your revenge against Arsinol.”

Gwaynn’s eyes flashed momentarily betraying a spark of anger, but he took a deep breath before rounding on Phillip. “Arsinol was killed in battle not brought before a circus trial…and he had my mother and sister killed before my eyes,” he added through clenched teeth and Prince Phillip flinched, realizing he’d gone too far. His anger left him immediately.

“My apologies,” he said. “But I cannot stomach the man just going free after what he’s done. He needs to be punished.”

“He will be,” Gwaynn promised.

“How?” Phillip asked with genuine curiosity. “How will he be punished? Who will punish him?”

Gwaynn had no answer for that and the two young men just stood looking at one another for several long minutes contemplating the question, but thankfully Phillip seemed to have made his point. He patted Gwaynn on the shoulder as he left the room in the hopes that the gesture would soften any hard feelings. Tabernas followed his prince out giving Gwaynn a nod and a sympathetic smile.

Gwaynn frowned, mulling over the Toranado Prince’s questions. There were no answers. Life seemed so much clearer when all the questions were questions of war.

“That was well done,” Kostek said approaching Gwaynn. He too patted Gwaynn gently on the shoulder. “Pardons General…but could you give us a moment?” Kostek asked Lonogan, who raised his eyebrows in surprise, but quickly agreed and followed Prince Phillip from the room.

Gwaynn wondered briefly at the dismissal. “I can’t just give King Weldon to the Toranado. His death at their hands would create even more animosity between the two countries.”

Kostek nodded. “Yes Prince Keel, Weldon’s eldest, would not take his father’s death lightly.”

“And you know I’ve sent Zarina na Gall to Cassinni,” Monde said. “She’s to bring King Marc a few days early. The Cassinni would like your assistance on the Deutzani problem.”

“The Deutzani problem?” Gwaynn asked.

“Well yes, Arden died in the battle for Lynndon and now his two younger brothers, Avaal and Antioc, are beginning to squabble. Both claim they should be next in line for the throne. Hell, neither deserves it if you ask me. Avaal is sixteen and Antioc just a year older. They’re too young, but they’re each gathering men and arms to make a push for the crown. The land is in chaos, especially up north near the border with the Cassinni where there have been a number of local skirmishes already,” Monde explained.

“But why ask me?” Gwaynn inquired. “I’ve just managed to get control of my own country.” When no one answered he continued. “What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly suspicious.

N’dori laughed and Monde gave him a wry smile.

“He’s very wise,” the Solitary commented as if Gwaynn were not in the room and even Kostek smiled at that.

“We’re to have a few visitors today,” Monde announced, which did little to remove the frown from Gwaynn’s face.

“Visitors?” Gwaynn asked his eyes going from Monde’s to Kostek’s to N’dori’s, but he could not read anything in any of them.

“Yes…” Monde answered but N’dori cut her off.

“Bring them in,” she said to Kostek, who nodded and walked to a small side door off the western wall of the hall. He held the door open and Gwaynn saw him gesture to someone in the room beyond. Moments later Surgeon Knote of Helles Island entered the room, followed closely by Master Putal and Renault of Lato, then finally and a bit surprisingly, Captain Hothgaard of the Temple Knights.

Gwaynn greeted the Masters with astonishment, surprised and happy to see Renault and to a lesser degree Putal, and confused by the presence of Hothgaard.

“What’s going on?” Gwaynn repeated, but still no one answered. Gwaynn glanced at Master Kostek accusingly.

The older man approached Gwaynn again.

“We are waiting for…” but before he could finish a bridge suddenly sprang open in the middle of the hall not ten feet from Gwaynn and through it stepped the High Tarina Nystrom and Tar Nev. Gwaynn remembered Nystrom as one of the Tarinas on the Council who’d come to his defense. It helped his memory that she was rather youthful and strikingly attractive, with long chocolate brown hair. She approached, giving Gwaynn a dazzling smile and embraced him.

“Congratulations on your victory,” she said softly and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Gwaynn gave her a half smile and a nod and then his eyes locked on the face of his mentor, Tar Nev.

“Mast….master,” Gwaynn said, now thoroughly shocked. “What are you doing here?”

Nev smiled. “I thought that would be obvious,” he said in his cheerful tone. Gwaynn couldn’t help but smile; he’d all but forgotten his old Master’s easy, happy manner. “I’m here to see the crowning of the new High King.”

Gwaynn stared at him, aghast.

“Close your mouth son, you look dumbfounded. It’s not a good look for a High King,” Nev joked and N’dori laughed.

“High King?” Gwaynn asked and glanced about with the hope that someone in the room would object to such a ludicrous idea, but no one did. “But what of Prince Nigel?’ Gwaynn asked and even Nev turned somber.

“Speaker Gan has informed us that Prince Nigel is dead…as is Princess Anya,” Zarina Monde told him. “Apparently they both died in accidents…very suspicious accidents.”

Captain Hothgaard frowned and looked at Gwaynn with a troubled expression and suddenly Gwaynn understood the man’s presence.

“High King!” Nev exclaimed with a laugh and clapped Gwaynn on the back. “I couldn’t think of anyone better,” the bushy haired Solitary said.