LITMIR.BIZ

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you give to my next question, and the trust we have in your words, may answer our concerns or see the downfall of another king.”

      Xavier looked the councillor in the eye, awaiting the question that was sure to come.

      “What do you hope to achieve?” asked Grarm.

      “You named me on the council for the work I did and the loyalty I have shown to The Society. I have only ever worked to see its ideals spread throughout the people,” Xavier took a breath and rose to pace the room in apparent agitation. “As King of Arenia, I now find myself in a unique position, though I have yet to learn how this will work. But I know it can benefit both The Society and myself just as I know that we must work together. Without the council, I will be no more than Leopold, a lame king, and without me, The Society will remain in the shadows for generations to come. It may never rise from the dark of the people’s indifference. But together, we can unite Arenia with knowledge under the star banner and make the world stronger than any man or council has dreamed before.” His voice grew with power as he finished, “Together we can make this land great for all men. I will have the kingdom and you will have the people.”

      He came and sat back down beside the councillor. It was apparent he had given Grarm what he hoped to hear. The man studied the young king before making his announcement,

      “This is our decision if you accept it. You may remain king and rule Arenia and its army, but all decisions that involve The Society will be taken by the council. We will attempt to put your plan in place and educate the youth of the kingdom, and through them spread the word of the forefathers. We will not involve ourselves in the running of the kingdom, and you will defer to the council on all matters relating to The Society, though you may also maintain your role as a council member. Do you agree?”

      “That is as it should be,” Xavier agreed.

      It was Grarm’s turn to pause and consider.

      “Good. But remember, the minds of the people belong to The Society.”

      “The council stands as the most important ruling body in the lands. I have no plans to take that authority from it. The council should, and must, take the responsibility of the words of Tam. My role is to lead the kingdom, and to bring them to understanding the importance of its people. I will help them hear the word. This council will be remembered for what they will bring to the world,” Xavier smiled, trying to pass confidence along to Grarm as easily as he had passed him his wine. He noticed that Grarm was too concerned with overcoming his distrust for Beth and himself to hear the meaning hidden in the king’s final words. Xavier was pleased and relaxed as he sipped his own wine.

      Chapter 6

      A mist drifted over the rolling fields, giving an eerie glow to the first light of morning. The sun hid its face behind the grey air and the distant hills were lost in a land of softness.

      Two men rode out of Haverim in the half-light and anyone who watched would wonder at the pairing of such an odd couple. One man was clearly a soldier, his name was Allarik. He was taller than most men while Piaz looked up to most women and Allarik’s wiry frame only helped to emphasise Piaz’ solid build. It was not that Piaz was fat; he just carried all his muscle closer to the ground than most men. Their horses were as different as the men, Allarik’s horse was tall and appeared strong and fast while Piaz’ mount was close to being labelled a pony.

      News had long ago reached Piaz that The Society now controlled Arenia and he had anticipated that changes would now begin but a call from the king was unexpected. He had tried to discover more of what was behind the request, but Allarik assured him that he had no answers to satisfy the speaker’s curiosity. Piaz would be forced to wait until he met with the king.

      The ride back to Whitebridge was enlightening, if uneventful. Allarik was not one to speak easily, but when he did, it was obvious that he had considered his words carefully. On one occasion, when the man chose to talk, Piaz learned that he was a member of the Gun-Jabal, a new force sworn to serve only the king’s orders. This concerned Piaz a little, wondering why the king saw it necessary to create such a force. But Allarik explained that while the king was the head of a vast military power, the army was a thing of structure with many levels of authority and, as such, would be slow to react to the king’s requests. The Gun-Jabal, however, was small and could quickly see to the king’s wishes. The way the man spoke made acceptance of the group possible.

      “And sometimes,” Allarik confided, “the king requires soldiers who will perform duties that he would prefer the leaders of the army and others knew nothing of. The members of the Gun-Jabal are chosen for their discretion as much as their ability.” Realising he had said more than he should, Allarik added, “One such duty would be to find and pass messages to people of importance, as on this occasion.”

      Piaz concerns rose again, but despite his misgivings he grew to like the big soldier during their ride back to the capital. He was uncertain if his doubts were that the new force existed, that the king thought it necessary, or just that he had been summoned, but he hoped time would answer his doubts.

      At another time, Allarik told him that the king may require services that fell outside the realms of the army, special tasks of importance to the kingdom. It was then the king could rely on people like the Gun-Jabal to come to his aid. He did not explain what these services may be, but Piaz had his own suspicions and secret fears for the lives of any that crossed the king.

      Their long ride ended when Allarik led the way past the docks and into the city through the south gate. The soldier had removed his cape and they both wore the clothing that Allarik produced from his saddlebags. He explained that the king preferred the members of the Gun-Jabal keep their identity from those the king did not trust, but again he did not elaborate on who that might be. They entered Whitebridge in the clothes of men whose business was at one of the many shops that dotted the streets. Allarik slumped in his saddle to disguise his height as he led the way along roads, between shops and around homes, always staying to the fringes of the city.

      “The king wishes you to wait until he is ready before he has you enter the palace,” he whispered. Finally he reined his horse and announced, “We are here.”

      Piaz looked about. The soldier had brought them to a place that appeared no different to any other they had passed - Homes and businesses crowded the narrow street as people went about their many tasks. Allarik was already hitching his horse to a post while Piaz still sat his mount and looked. The soldier waited until Piaz joined him outside a door and they entered the clean-whitewashed building with large windows together. As they did, Piaz glanced up to see the painted board hanging above the opening, proclaiming it to the entire world as the White Star Inn. It looked a nice enough place to wait for the king’s orders. Clean tables were scattered through the well-lit tavern where a few patrons enjoyed food and ale. Towards the back, the light faded into private booths nestling in the shadows. A group of men laughed at the rattle of dice off to one side and a round man rolled towards them with a broad smile painted on his face. As he drew near, Allarik casually touched his left shoulder with his right fist and returned the smile.

      “Whitebridge prospers under the new king,” he offered to the round man that Piaz now realised must be the innkeeper. Piaz noted that Allarik’s lips moved briefly giving the innkeeper what he considered to be a smile.

      “A good king is always good for business,” the rotund man replied. “What can I do for you?”

      “It is good to see you again Marcus. You and your inn never change. It is like coming home. We are expected for a meeting, and need to send word to a man of high importance that we have arrived,”

      Allarik’s voice was quiet but his manner was confident.

      “And you do not wish to be heard?” enquired Marcus.

      “No,” Allarik told him. “No one must know we are here. Can you get word to our man without being seen?” Marcus’ hand made a cutting motion to still the conversation. The innkeeper led them to a booth in the back, a dark corner that was hidden from the world of light and pleasantry. He turned and left without another word and returned moments later with two foaming mugs of ale. He leant in

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