"I don't know; we'd better check it out," the other replied in a hushed voice. The guard's name was Joss Horn, cousin to Horace Horn, another knight of the town. It may have been nothing, just sounds in the night, but best to search for the source. Could be that a wild animal has entered the gates unawares.
The guards withdrew from their posts, searching for what had made the sound. As they wandered away from the castle entrance, Oxen quietly snuck up to the large, iron doors, where they had stood moments ago. The knobs felt cold in his hands as a slight breeze blew in through the town. Evil tidings carried on the wind and the shadow grew greater. You pitiful fool, you don't even know what awaits you, were his thoughts regarding King Galfer Weddir. The Weddirs have reigned long enough in this region and it is time for a new leader, a strong one. If you had married and had child it may be that I would keep the boy alive and your queen as well, but you are without an heir. Suddenly he realized the contradiction in his thoughts. No, that would not be what would happen. The boy would become king and not me, the young prince.
The castle was an immense structure standing at the center of the town. Wide cement pillars surrounded it. Golden bricks, shining beautifully in the night, formed the roof. “What a pretty sight,” he whispered to himself in a mocking tone.
Oxen slowly pushed open the doors to the castle and made his way inside. The chamber stretched for some odd feet and then broke apart at either end. Down the left corridor, lay the king's quarters. Down the right corridor lay the former queen's quarters and the royal priest's as well. Oxen wondered if he was sleeping in there even now.
At the back of the chamber, he could see the king's throne, as striking as the rest of the castle. It added to the appeal when he pictured himself sitting upon it and giving commands. The chair was a mixture of gold and red, adorned with many gems that belonged to the Weddirs and their forefathers over the ages. Some of the gems were amethysts, some zircons, others rubies, sapphires or emeralds. At the foot of the throne was the sky sapphire, the Weddirs' ancient sigil.
He strolled down the dark hall, looking upon the portraits of kings long past, thinking one more would soon need to be added to the collection. There was the portrait of King Garwen first, Galfer's father who simply looked like an older version of Galfer, a twin in appearance to the man. The main difference was that where Galfer was clean shaven, his father had a long beard of white-blond hair. A necklace was upon his breast bearing the sky sapphire of his family. If Oxen Mollish were one of the Thieves from the Desert he likely would have fancied it more, lusted after it in a fashion, but Mollish was no thief. He longed to rule, not to have pretty sapphires.
Next on the wall came the portrait of King Gallen, Garwen's father and Galfer's grandfather. The man had often been called Gallen the Gallant and the people thought it had a nice ring to it and came easily off the lips. Judging by his portrait he was gallant indeed. He was similar looking, in some fashions, to his son, with the same white-blond hair and innocent eyes, eyes of blue that were oddly akin to the sky sapphire which gave Oxen an unsettling feeling in his bones. It was as if the kings were looking upon him as he was about to slay Gallen's grandson.
Oxen thought back to his recent conversation with the royal priest, the one named Salkar Stadeus. “The people will welcome you and call you their king,” the priest had assured him. “You are of noble bloodlines they know and therefore the only possible one to take Galfer's place. The King has no wife, has fathered no sons or daughters. The name of Mollish will replace Weddir in Ganwin.”
“And if the people resist?”
The priest smiled thinly. “There will always be resistance in times of conflict. Some will say you are not the true king and will call for King Heroi Smo in the east to come and claim the throne.”
“King Heroi Smo?” said Oxen. He was not familiar with the matters of Condeth Rahal and who ruled there. “The true king in the east? What does he have to do with me and how would he be the true king of Ganwin in Weddir's absence?”
“King Heroi is descended from the same bloodline as the Weddirs,” explained Salkar Stadeus with his usual wisdom on foreign matters that Oxen could appreciate. “The Weddirs and the Smos, both families are descended from a royal family that lived in Eclestia. As such, some of the townsfolk will call his name and will ask for messengers to be sent to Condeth Rahal for him. If so, I will pretend to heed their calls and I will say I have sent messengers to the east. If the conflict erupts, however, I will not be so kind. I will lead a force to destroy any unruly rebels.”
“And we can trust our guards to help us?” asked Oxen. “They will not side with the people and their dead king? You must remember, they are sworn to him as of now. How will they greet me as their new king?”
“Those that I deem unworthy of our new regime,” said Salkar, “will be killed, hung, disposed of, whatever needs to be done. Already I have my eye on those who will make a smooth transition to our cause. Horace Horn is the name of one who I trust. And there are others who can be swayed. We will make them believe it is for the good of the people.”
“These folks know me well,” he continued. “I
