Watching me approach he gave me a pained smile. “Count di’Cameron, it is a pleasure to see you again. Have you come to finish your business or just gloat over an old man?”

I had no intention of healing him. After a long pause I spoke, “Time will finish our business. I merely wanted to ask your advice regarding the succession.”

“A cruel reply, Mordecai, you would let me bleed to death while in considerable pain. Why should I give you advice? The world is done with me.” There was a tone of resignation in his voice.

Leaning down I touched his throat and uttered a few words quietly. Standing straight again I disguised myself as the King and answered him in his own voice, “If you care about Lothion you should want her ruler to act wisely.”

His eyes went wide and anger grew in his features. “It appears you have no need of my advice if you simply intend to usurp my place,” he said acrimoniously.

I resumed my normal features and voice. “This kingdom will go on without you Edward, and someday they will remember you as a wise ruler. Your life is ebbing away as we speak and I will not heal you. Given the choice you should do what you can to prevent a civil war… if you love your people at all.”

“I badly underestimated you, young Illeniel, but I do not care one whit for those I leave behind. I will help you only on one condition… that you give me a swift end afterwards,” he responded with pain in his voice.

“That I will not do, but your servant is close at hand. If you advise me well I will let him see you and perhaps he will grant your wish,” I answered.

“Very well,” he replied, “What would you know?”

“Who is next in line for the throne?”

A choked laugh escaped the dying monarch, “You really didn’t prepare for this did you? You should have known that already. My second cousin, Brian Southwell, the Earl of the Eastern March is next in line since I have no surviving children of my own.”

“I had not planned to kill you until a few days ago Edward. This is your own doing,” I said. I was surprised that such a minor noble was his heir. I had thought one of the members of the greater families, such as Tremont or Lancaster would have been more closely related. I learned later that the royal family had avoided matches with the more powerful noble houses to avoid giving them more influence. “I’m afraid that the Earl simply won’t do,” I added.

Edward smiled wickedly, “Then you must kill him and dozens of others besides him if you wish to clear your path to the throne.”

I stared down at him without compassion. “I do not intend to take the throne; I will install James Lancaster in your place.”

“His claim is little better than your own. If you want him as king you will have to issue a royal decree naming him as my heir and simultaneously declaiming the rights of more than a dozen men that would come before him. You would then have to have me die, or rather give the appearance I had died recently if you are still deceiving people with my likeness.” He paused for a moment as a sharp pain stole his breath away. “Once you have my doppelganger die, the noble houses will revolt and it will take a bloody war to enforce your decree making James king.”

“What if you abdicate?” I suggested. “I could have you retire due to declining health and advise the new king from your sickbed. After a year or two you could pass away quietly in your sleep.”

Edward’s face grew thoughtful. “That might work, though I doubt I would ever have thought of it. Such a peaceful solution makes me wonder whether you have the mettle to rule at all. I think I agree with you, James is a better choice. You are too soft to govern.”

“You’ve earned your reward,” I said suddenly, not bothering to acknowledge his backhanded insult. Turning away I walked back toward where Cyhan stood and beckoned for him to approach. As he passed me I warned him, “He will not leave this place alive.”

Cyhan paused and then responded, “I cannot allow you to harm him.” He had misunderstood the meaning of my words.

I simply shook my head, “You’ll understand when you see him.”

The veteran moved past me and found his king lying where I had left him. I gave him plenty of space but I stayed close enough to hear their words.

“You again,” said Edward as he registered Cyhan’s face.

“Your Majesty,” answered Cyhan kneeling and bowing his head.

“Ever the faithful lapdog aren’t you?” said the King, insulting his guardian even as his own face twisted with pain. “Do me one last service and finish me,” he said after a moment.

The man who had spent his life training Anath’Meridum and then royal guardsmen and assassins answered in a voice that could have been cut from solid granite, “I am sworn to preserve your life sire. I cannot do that.”

Edward’s face clouded with anger, “You are sworn to obey me! Do as your king commands!”

Cyhan’s voice remained neutral, “My oath to protect your person supersedes my oath of obedience your Majesty.”

The King’s voice grew desperate for his pain was unbearable. “Cyhan, please, do not leave me like this? Cut me loose from this agony! I would be done with the world.”

The warrior’s face remained still but his tone became sympathetic, “Release me from my oaths your Majesty.”

“Just kill me damnitt!”

“I cannot. Dissolve my oaths your Majesty… release me,” Cyhan replied softly.

“Very well, I absolve you of your duties and release you from your oaths. Now please, for the love of whatever gods are left, stop this pain!” cried the dying king.

Cyhan laughed and stood looking down on the man he had served for so long. “I would sooner give mercy to a dog,” he said with disdain, and then he spat upon his former master. “You are not worth the effort to lift my sword and cut out your black heart.” Bringing his foot down the big man stepped on the King’s hand and ground the bones into the hard earth until the older man began screaming.

Sickened, I wanted to look away but I forced myself to watch.

The large warrior left him then and marched toward me, ignoring Edward’s pitiful cries. “Let’s get some air,” he said as he drew near. “Listening to him disgusts me.”

I followed him a good hundred yards until we could no longer hear the sounds of the King’s suffering and then he turned back toward me and drew his sword. I drew back reflexively and readied my shield. I hadn’t expected him to attack me after everything that had occurred, but I supposed that recent events might have unhinged his mind. I was utterly surprised and confused when instead of attacking the massive warrior instead went down on one knee and held up his sword, hilt first.

“I have spent my life serving a worthless master and bound by vows that I believed were worthwhile. Now I am free and I find that my life has been wasted,” he said in a voice that was filled with emotion. This was a side of Cyhan I had never seen, or even suspected. As I looked down on his face I saw there were tears welling in his eyes. “I have watched you Mordecai Illeniel and I know your heart. I cannot live as other men do for I have been bound by honor and vows my entire life. If you will have me, I will serve you for whatever remains of my life, in the hope that I can atone for the wrongs I have been forced to witness and commit.”

A sadness and deep melancholy came over me as I looked on this man who even now could not live free. “I do not want your service Cyhan. You deserve to live your own life.”

“You will have it or I will die here. I will not live otherwise,” he answered determinedly.

“Very well,” I said at last. Taking his sword I thrust it into the ground and placed his hands over the hilt before covering them with my own. Looking into his eyes I spoke, “I Mordecai Illeniel do take you into my service. Will you swear to serve and protect me as your solemn duty?”

“I will.”

“I would have you take service as one of the Knights of the Stone, an order sworn to protect the people and serve the greater good. Will you accept a place among them?” I asked formally.

“I will if you so wish,” he replied.

“I do,” I answered. “I have one last oath I would have from you before I will accept you fully.”

“I am willing,” he responded.

“Will you swear to listen to your own conscience? Should fate and events conspire to such an extent that your

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