“When Antonil reclaimed Mordeina, his rule was tenuous at best. Many lords wanted to break up the nation, with the angels as the sole unifier among the various territories instead of a king.
Harruq shifted uncomfortably, feeling a bit of his righteous fury dwindling down, becoming more petulant and uncertain. Still, he had to continue. He had to know for certain.
“You act as if you gained nothing,” he said. “Your sister’s rise in power only increased your own. And because of that, you’re now safe to rally men around you, spouting out hate and ignorance.”
Kevin’s eyes widened.
“Do you know why I rally those people in the streets?” he asked Harruq. “I do it to
Kevin spat at Harruq’s feet.
“You think you know me, you think you understand why I do these things. You’re a damn fool, half-orc. Look to the heavens, and for once, open your eyes. In my heart I do not believe my nephew will ever be king. How long until a man with wings sits on that throne? And what will we do then? What will we lowly, simple humans do?”
Harruq was caught off guard by his sincerity, his ferocity. Was it possible he was uninvolved? Looking back at it, it did seem a slight stretch. If Kevin had problems with Antonil and the angels, wouldn’t it make more sense that he strike at them instead? Despite all his annoyances, he’d never shown any hostility toward his sister.
Thinking of the angels reminded him of similar matters he’d been delaying bringing up, but with Susan absent, there was really no better time.
“You have to stop these rallies,” Harruq said. “The city’s already in unrest because of the army’s departure, and you’re just making it worse.”
“Oftentimes things must get worse before getting better,” Kevin argued.
“Riots will begin any day now,” Harruq said. “People will die. This needs to stop.”
“Then stop it!” Kevin gestured wildly. “I only give voice and reason to their unrest. I only allow them to see the reason for their anger. Do you think Mordeina is the only place turning against this oppression? The countryside is worse, so much worse, and yet I’m not there to stir it up. For five years now the angels have dealt death and spared lives, all without a single care for the desires of mortal men.”
“Then what do you want me to do about it?” Harruq asked. “How in the fires of the Abyss am I supposed to stop it?”
Kevin calmed down a bit, becoming more earnest, more businesslike.
“At the start of the month I sent riders to all four corners of Mordan,” he said. “Every single settlement has already received my request. I’m calling in elders, spokesmen, anyone who can come and speak for the people of their respective towns. It shouldn’t be long before the first of them arrives.”
“Why? What do you think this will accomplish?”
“We live under the rule of angels who supposedly follow a god,” Kevin said. “A god that none of us can hear, a god whose own priests say now slumbers after the war. Yet we are powerless before their rule. Some men live, and others die, and there is no consistency, no justice. Murderers and rapists should be strung up to hang, yet many find themselves forgiven, only to repeat their crimes months later. We need a voice. We need a say in these things. I’m summoning them all to hold a council. I want the angels to hear the concerns of those they rule over. I want them to admit they aren’t gods, to open their eyes and realize that we do not serve them. They serve us.”
There was some wisdom to the idea, Harruq had to admit that. And over the past several days he’d been hearing of the growing unrest, especially over a supposed attack in a village that no one could identify for certain despite his best efforts. If this council might prevent riots, it’d be worthwhile. And the representatives were already on their way…
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“Make the angels attend. Make them promise to listen, and convene a vote on the requests our people give. And if not…” Kevin gestured to the throne. “You are steward of the kingdom, ruler over the men therein. If the angels will not answer to you, then what is the purpose of having a king?”
“I’ll talk to Ahaesarus,” Harruq said. “I can’t promise their cooperation, but if this will help, then I’m willing to try. But in return, you need to calm the people instead of inflaming them. You’re getting what you want, so give me what I want, or I’ll send troops to arrest you in the street no matter what Susan thinks.”
“Your eloquence knows no bounds,” Kevin said, bowing. “Tell the angels to convene the council a week from tomorrow. That should be enough time for everyone to arrive. Now if I might have my leave, I’d like to check on my family.”
The lord turned and marched to the side of the throne, into the darker recesses of the pillars.
“Oh, Kevin,” Harruq said, unable to help himself. “There is one way to prove to me your innocence. Stand before an angel. Swear to him you had nothing to do with the assassination attempt, and let him judge whether you speak truth or lie.”
Kevin looked over his shoulder as he stopped before the door leading deeper into the castle. Instead of the anger he expected, the man only laughed.
“You’re such a fool,” he said. “A damn, stupid fool in so far over your head you haven’t a hope to avoid drowning. The angels aren’t your savior, Harruq. They’re your executioner. The sooner you realize that, the better.”
The door slammed shut behind him, and Harruq had only impotent rage to offer in return.
Qurrah was not much for putting off uncomfortable things, so when they’d been assigned their room in the castle, and Tessanna slumbered restlessly from their journey, he left her there and sought out Harruq’s room. To his mild surprise, two guards stood before the door, and they tensed at his arrival.
“I only wish to ask my brother a question,” he told them.
One of the guards rapped on the door. After hearing it unlock from within, the door popped open, and Harruq’s face peered out. Seeing Qurrah, he grunted and opened it the rest of the way, revealing him standing there with only a loose bed robe wrapped around his muscular body.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No,” Qurrah said. He glanced at the guards, then decided there was nothing too unusual about his request. He’d still be honoring Azariah’s desire for privacy.
“How does one get to Avlimar?” he asked.
Harruq raised an eyebrow.
“With wings. Care to explain?”
“I’d rather not.”
Harruq shrugged.
“Wait here.”
He shut the door, returning less than a minute later. In his hands was a golden scepter. Its length was about half his arm, and at the very top was a silver stone barely larger than a man’s pinkie.
“Get into open space, hold it aloft, and then speak the name Ashhur,” Harruq explained as he handed it over. “Someone will come find you, I promise. After that, it’s up to you to convince them to give you a lift.”
“I’ll return this before the night’s over,” Qurrah promised, holding the scepter against his chest. It was surprisingly warm, and he detected an aura of magic about it. Harruq yawned, waved him away.
“Return it in the morning,” he said, shutting the door.
Qurrah chuckled, caught the guards looking at him. He shot one a wink, then hurried away. After two tries, he managed to find his way out of the castle, stepping out into the courtyard surrounding the structure atop the great hill it’d been built upon. The night sky was heavily clouded. Only Avlimar was visible, just a distant gold star. In that darkness, Qurrah held the scepter above his head, noting it much heavier than it should have been. Steadying it with both hands, he whispered the command word.
