“I am content with the Sept Son’s selection and honored that my family is to become the next to serve Pratinus on the High Throne. On behalf of my son, I accept this honor.” Turning to me, he bowed. Blaise also bowed and the topic of disputing my choice ended abruptly.
The men immediately began speaking of the ceremonies to come and the preparations for the moving of the households. The Marcellus household would be switching places with the Honorus household, a massive procedure that took almost a year to complete.
My work done, I stood silently looking down at the hollow shell that had once been the High King. How fleeting life was. One moment, he was the most powerful man in Pratinus and the next he was nothing.
The great doors into the entrance hall opened to allow the kings to depart and go about the business of setting up the new government under the new high king. Already the messenger was on his way to Deucalion with the news of his ascension. The late High King Uiseann Honorus’ world moved on without him, almost untouched by his absence. Only his mourning family waited in the wings to bear his body away for burial.
“Master?” Renato’s quiet presence slipped through my thoughts leaving traces of worry in its wake.
“What is it?” I turned my eyes reluctantly from the slack features of the former king.
“King Euginius wishes to speak with you at your earliest convenience.”
“What does he want?” I asked. Turning from the bed, I began my own exit. Behind me the embalmers began their work.
“He said something about disappointed expectations and acted like you would know what he meant.” Renato’s voice was tinged with curiosity.
“I do.” I breathed deeply. “Tell him I will be expecting him in my quarters in an hour’s time. Then, join me there. We are going to need to prepare.”
“For what? What does he want?”
“He wants to know why his son wasn’t chosen and he isn’t going to be happy when I tell him that it is not for him to know.”
Renato nodded. “I will notify the honor guard.”
Stopping suddenly, I turned to him and shook my head. “No honor guard.”
“But Sept Son,” he protested. “You say he will be displeased.”
“Not that kind of displeased, Renato. The preparation is for speaking to him about his third son, Liber. We have news of him, and I need to gather the letters and review the facts. Now go, we have much to do.”
Renato bowed, as was required in the formal setting of the court rooms, and hurried off to obey. I watched him with a thankful heart. Thank you, Almighty, for giving me such a man as an assistant. Thoughts of Renato were followed by thoughts of his sister and Errol’s project. It was a frequent progression. I needed to write to Errol again. He had mentioned issues with Zezilia’s matter movement training and requested my thoughts. In all the rushing travel of the past few days, I had forgotten to write back. I decided that now was the perfect time and started off toward my quarters.
As I walked, I organized my thoughts on how to help Zezilia gain concentration skills. There were some exercises that I had read about over a year ago, that might help. I recalled being impressed by the concepts that the author had put forth. I was just beginning to attempt to recall where I had read them when I turned the corner to my room and came to an abrupt stop.
Two elaborately dressed Segia stood at attention outside my closed door. It could mean only one thing. Waiting for me on the other side was the Mesitas himself. A flutter of panic passed through my chest, but I caught it before it reached my stomach. After my successful thwarting of his test at the High King’s death bed, I was leery of anything the Mesitas might have in store for me now. Closing my eyes, I sought the Almighty’s presence. As the peace that He promised was always there calmed my spirit, I took a deep breath. No man was greater than the Almighty and everything was within His control. The Mesitas could not harm me unless the Almighty allowed it.
With this truth cradled in the hollow of my chest, I stepped forward. The Segius on the right turned, saluted me, and then opened the door for me to enter my apartments. I nodded my acknowledgement of his action.
The heavy stifling scent of incense greeted me as I stepped into the sitting room. The windows were closed and the heavy curtains drawn, shrouding the room in an eerie filtered light. Instinctively, I reached out with my mind to sense the occupants in the room. The Mesitas stood in the far corner where the deepest shadows hid his form from my sight. No one else was present.
“No cohort?” I addressed his position before crossing to the desk by the window to check what looked like the satchel where I kept my personal papers. Fear gripped my chest. The letters had been removed from the case and spread across the desk in a seemingly random pattern. “Reading my correspondence I see.”
“The window was open and they blew across the floor. I simply replaced them, Sept Son.” His voice passed over my title with oily ease. “What interest would I have in your conversations with other talents? The business of the superior beings is far beyond my understanding.” Sarcasm dripped from every syllable.
I turned to face him. “What do you mean?”
“I have heard rumors of Elitism, Sept Son. Problems with talents striking out against non-talents would be awkward at this time. I came to warn you that the feelings among the kings toward you are not the most...” He paused and stepped out of the shadows. “I guess I would call it confident. After your late appearance at the death bed and the delay in easing Honorus’ spirit, I am
