A moment of silence. Then, Cevet spoke again. “What does this have to do with me?”
“A little over a year ago, I had the courage to take a new sort of step,” Lord Thius said. Relam could picture the pompous man pacing earnestly behind his desk. He could also hear slow, regular footsteps that suggested Lord Thius was doing just that.
“I have been working with Master D’Arnlo to move up for the last time,” the renegade lord continued.
“For the last time? I thought you said you never stopped dreaming and working to move up? And where is there to move up to after Head of the Assembly? Do you intend to be king’s chatelain or something?”
Relam covered his mouth and nose with one hand to stifle a laugh. Ryker Thius as the king’s chatelain? He was far too capable and opinionated for such a role. Oreius gave Relam a warning glare and held a finger to his lips.
“No, no, you misunderstand me, son,” Lord Thius was saying now. “The king’s chatelain is little more than a glorified servant, hovering about the king, constantly obeying orders and taking care of minor pieces of work so that the king does not have to. It is a tiresome, thankless position. No, Cevet, that is not the step Master D’Arnlo and I are taking. We are taking the ultimate step. And as for ending my dreams of moving up, there is nowhere to go once you reach the top.”
“I still don’t understand-”
“Cevet,” Lord Thius said quietly. “D’Arnlo and I are going to be kings.”
“Kings?” Cevet whispered.
“That’s right.”
Relam wondered what was going through Cevet’s head, if the lordling’s acting would hold up to the traitor’s scrutiny. Cevet was not what Relam would call a consummate actor, after all. And if he should be exposed would Relam and the others be able to get there in time?
“Kings?” Cevet asked again. “That is ambitious, father. But how will you go about accomplishing that goal?”
“We already have,” Lord Thius replied, chuckling. “It took longer than we expected, yes, but it is done now. The current line has been wiped out.”
“Wiped out? You were the ones behind the assassination attempts!”
“And not a soul ever suspected us,” Lord Thius replied. Relam pictured the traitor drawing himself up proudly, trying to look impressive.
“I certainly didn’t,” Cevet murmured. “This is quite the surprise, father. I must say, I’m impressed. You even took care of the prince.”
Lord Thius hesitated for a moment. “Yes, son. Young Relam is no longer an . . . obstacle.”
“Splendid,” Cevet replied enthusiastically. “So, you and D’Arnlo will be kings. Does that make me heir to the throne?”
“Of course,” Lord Thius said. “D’Arnlo has no heirs of his own. When he and I are gone, you will be the ruler of the Sthan Kingdom.”
“Wow,” Cevet breathed quietly. “A king. This is beyond anything I ever dreamed.”
“Soak it in, son,” Lord Thius said eagerly. “I did this for you. So that you would have a bright future ahead of you, instead of a future of servitude to a weak line of kings.”
Relam’s jaw tightened and he felt an overwhelming desire to run into the office and seize Lord Thius by the neck. But he didn’t, knowing that Cevet would get more information out of his father if he gave him time.
“Who else was involved?” Cevet asked, drawing Relam back to the moment. “Just the two of you?”
“A few others were necessary accomplices,” Lord Thius replied airily. “Some low-lifes who ran messages. The assassins who carried out the deeds, of course. A half-dozen military officers in the Citadel. Why do you ask?”
“I just want to know who I am beholden to for this great gift,” Cevet replied. “Although, I admit, it is difficult to be beholden to military men.” He said the last two words as though they left a bad taste in his mouth.
“Then just thank D’Arnlo and I,” Lord Thius suggested. “That should be easy enough.”
“Yes,” Cevet agreed. “Thank you, father.”
“Well, then,” Lord Thius harrumphed. “That’s all settled then. You’ll be named heir to the throne once it is confirmed that the old line is ended. Until then, keep this to yourself. Wouldn’t want word getting out that this whole thing was orchestrated, right?”
“Right,” Cevet agreed. “Father, what about D’Arnlo?”
“What about him?”
“He has some strange ideas, that’s all.”
“You mean he’s a supremacist.”
“Yes.”
There was a long silence. “Cevet, Master D’Arnlo and I plan to remake the Sthan Kingdom. We could be much stronger if society were more ordered.”
“Some would say we are very strong already.”
“And they would be wrong. You know about the miner riots in Mizzran and the lawlessness on the southern sea. Why, there are bandits in the Midwood even, right here by the capital. And there’s no telling what was responsible for the death of old King Orram.”
“I thought it was a bear?”
“Could have been,” Lord Thius allowed. “But it could also have been a human predator. The point is, this kingdom needs order, and Master D’Arnlo and I plan to bring it about.”
“You mean with a master race, enslavement of the masses, and a large military?”
“If that is what it takes.”
Relam clenched his jaw angrily, and glanced at Oreius. He could not read the old man’s expression, a mingling of guilt, regret, anger, and hatred.
“We did the Orell War all wrong,” Lord Thius continued. “We never should have fought them. We should have enslaved the horse masters, made them our servants. This is what will be done to the other peoples of this world. The plainsmen, the
