“We need to leave,” slightly startled I twist to find Orrian seated in the chair on my immediate left. He’s ignoring everyone else in the room, myself included, except from Faelyn on the opposite side directly beneath the light.
I may be being unreasonably distrusting, possibly because of his clear distaste for me, but surely Faelyn’s position in the room is yet another act of power, like his sleeping quarters, being the best lit chair and therefore setting himself as the centre of attention.
Next to him I spot one of the more discreet guards from last night, from his neighbour I assume I was right to guess that himself and his companions were watching me at Faelyn’s request. The guard is slightly bullish with most of his face obscured by thick dark ringlets, eyeing Orrian as if he is the target patch of red cloth.
“No! We are not leaving our home again, some of us still have our pride!” Faelyn says ruthlessly. Clearly now that they were far from the people’s ears any sign of respect or self-restraint had been discarded long ago.
“But we’ll live!” Orrian cuts in, “If we stay here, we die.”
“No, we can hold the entrance.”
“Are you serious?! We couldn’t fight them off the first time and now they might bring even more,” Orrian retorts.
“We were asleep, and in the open, we can beat them off!” Faelyn counters.
Until now everyone has been relatively silent, apart from the random chipping in to support their chosen of the two spokespeople, it therefore comes as a surprise when Jaq beside me has his say.
“I’m with Orrian, always, and the rest of you should be too, he’s our king now. It’s his decision,” he interrupts the two leaders.
“King?!”, the word is spat like it tastes foul in Faelyn’s mouth. “He ran! He left us! And now you want us to call him king?” he screeches.
“He’s here now, and yes, by birth right,” Jaq replies calmly.
“King Theodluin saved us yes, but this boy has accomplished nothing, and a king would have stayed with his people,” the bullish man interrupts.
“Oh, please Horith, you were the first to run with the children whilst we protected your rear! Have you seen his wounds? His scars? He endured just as much as the rest of us!” Jaq hisses in outrage. “This man was heir to the throne and now it’s his. None of us should have had any doubts about his fitness to rule, but him turning up with the boy should all but confirm it!”
I stare at the man beside me, unable to comprehend the sense behind his words. I know that the boy he’s referring too must be me, but I have no idea where I come into all this or how I confirm his fitness to rule.
“The throne? Ha!” Horith snorts, “What throne! If he wanted it, he should’ve fought for it! As for the lad, well- Faelyn has kept us together since the Great Fire, he’s kept us safe until this fool turned up-”
“How dare you,” Jaq growls.
“We need someone who didn’t abandon us, who isn’t a coward!” Horith shouts furiously.
“What do you have to say about all this Faelyn?” Orrian questions calmly, the contrast in his voice to the other shouts regains control of the room.
“You are not our king, and I will not let you turn us into cowards. We will retake what is ours and you have no place to stop us. You come back to us with a dying man and a foreigner we can’t trust when we have enough difficulty supporting ourselves already. We are not your people, and whilst you’re unfortunately one of us, your guest here should leave.”
There it is, Faelyn has just come out with undeniable treason, and he has entangled me in his demands along the way. I am now all too conscious of the little power I have against these people if they turn on us. Even if I was a fighter, I wouldn’t stand a chance against all of Faelyn’s men, and besides, the only exits I know of are guarded. I don’t relish the prospect of running around the mazes of tunnels aimlessly with only the prayers that I’ll eventually find daylight.
Orrian is on his feet now, Jaq and most of the others, are at his side, forming a barrier between myself and Faelyn who is also now standing but with a much smaller group. The taller man looks ridiculous as his neck cranes sharply in the cramped conditions. The two groups face each other, each on edge subtly trying to get hands to hilts.
“Orrian, son of Theodluin, you are unfit to rule. I contest the crown.” Faelyn’s heavy words thicken the room.
“Traitor!” a skeletal lady by Orrian shrieks, shaking a fleshless fist at the opposition.
“We decide tonight, if you do not surrender then we fight until the unworthy falls,” the traitor decrees with finality, laying down the terms.
Faelyn leads his group towards us but arms are now by their sides, it is only when Orrian tells the others to move that a narrow path is cleared allowing them to leave.
Once through the gap Faelyn pauses to face me, his eyes studying my birthmark.
“I want this one bound, until we know who decides his fate,” he says looking me dead in the eye, despite his head almost being horizontal against the ceiling. His suspicion of me is clear to everyone now, he scans me once before exiting back into the tunnel system.
An hour later I rest between Horith and one of Jaq’s companions, my hands firmly tied with thick rope. Unfortunately, Horith had eagerly volunteered to set about my restraining
