Relam stood, flinging the broken pieces of the gavel to one side. “Thank you,” he said mildly. “Now, I don’t know many of you, but I daresay you all know me. That’s one of the side effects of being a member of the royal family.” He paused as several nobles chuckled.
“You know where I come from, as well. You knew my mother, who was gentle and caring. She was strong of will and character. You knew my father, who was king before me. Tough, indomitable. And stubborn.”
“And you know me,” Relam said, looking around at the sea of faces. “You know me. You know what I have accomplished in these past months. You know that I have trained with some of the greatest sword masters ever. You know that I have shadowed my father in important meetings on occasion. Some of you witnessed those meetings or took part in them.”
“And you know,” Relam continued angrily, his voice rising. “That now, of all times, we need a strong king and a unifying ruler. The chaos of the last few months has set the people of Etares on edge, wondering what is to come next. Do we give them a weak, divided, temporary government to reassure them? No, we give them their king!”
Relam looked down at the nobles clustered around his feet. “This meeting has gone on long enough,” he announced. “Let us have a decision from this body so we may adjourn for the evening.”
Garenes would not meet Relam’s gaze, nor any of the other lords on Council. They did not take instruction well, Relam realized. He would have to take the initiative.
“All in favor of postponing this decision to a later date?” Relam called.
The High Council was nearly unanimous, their hands shooting into the air. The sight made Relam’s stomach twist around unpleasantly. But there were few hands among the general Assembly. Very few, Relam realized with a spark of hope.
“All those in favor of crowning the rightful king?” he asked, looking around the hall.
Hands went into the air, a few at first, then a dozen, a score, then too many for Relam to count. Far more than had agreed to postpone the decision.
“It is decided,” Lord Garenes said helplessly, looking around at the rest of the Assembly. “All hail King Relam, ruler of the Sthan Kingdom!”
The Assembly rose to its feet and knelt as one in a rustle of fabric. The Council rose as well, bowing low instead of kneeling. Several glared openly at Relam as they did, Lord Garenes included. But they bowed anyways, submitting to their new king for the time being.
Relam nodded, suddenly exhausted, then turned and mounted the stage once again, returning to his guards and Oreius. His guards were smirking openly at the kneeling and bowing nobles, but Oreius was smiling gently.
“Well done,” he whispered. “And congratulations, your majesty.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Relam said, smiling slightly.
“Perhaps,” Oreius agreed, shrugging. “But you’ve earned it.” The old warrior knelt, and the others on the stage followed suit. “We wish you all the best in your reign, your majesty.”
Chapter 47
For the next two days, Relam did not leave the Citadel. His rooms in the palace were still uninhabitable as a result of the fire, and much of the cleanup activities related to D’Arnlo’s scheme were at the Citadel anyways. During those two days, Relam interviewed dozens of Citadel guards, trying to separate the loyal ones from those who had participated in the short-lived rebellion. It was no easy task, and there were hundreds of Citadel guards, every one of them a suspect.
Relam also spent endless amounts of time in meetings with nobles and party planners, trying to pull together all the details for his impending coronation. The young warrior wanted to be crowned as soon as possible, to give the kingdom an undisputed leader once again. As long as the throne remained empty, there was a vacuum of power, even with a clear heir.
Between those meetings and the interviews with guardsmen, Relam had little time for anything else. The other lordlings hung around the Citadel frequently enough, helping supervise the cleanup from the battle and sparring with each other on occasion. And Relam still saw plenty of Tar, Yavvis, and Narin, who had taken over the Citadel. They all helped as best they could with cleaning out the traitors.
Oreius, on the other hand, had all but disappeared. The old warrior had spoken up for Relam at the Assembly meeting, proclaiming him ready to rule, then retreated into anonymity. Finally, on the third day after the battle at the Citadel, Relam went looking for his aging mentor.
He found Oreius easily enough. The old man was right where he always was. Sitting on the stone bench in his garden, eyes closed, breathing lightly and evenly.
“Some things never change,” Relam called, stopping a few steps behind the bench.
Oreius nodded slowly. “Aye. I can still hear you coming a mile away. Pity we didn’t have time to work on that a little bit during your training.”
Relam took a few steps forward, rounding the end of the bench and looking down at his master. “There is much we didn’t have time for,” he observed. “I still have much to learn.”
“But you are prepared for what lies ahead,” Oreius replied. Then, he opened his eyes and looked up at Relam. “You have what you need to succeed.”
“Thanks to you,” Relam added, bowing slightly.
Oreius shook his head, smiling slightly. “No. I just taught you
