“Will there be war? Is this really what we are talking about?” Shirlee asked, and the group of women now looked far more concerned that before.
“Yes. A wizard came to Konungssonur and spoke of many things, but some of what he told us included the Prophesies of Afi.”
Alayna went on to tell the witches of the future that had been foretold by the dying auch, and the war that was expected to destroy the peace they had taken for granted. By the time she had finished the sun was well past its peak and no one had moved to prepare a meal, or even make more tea.
“How much time do we have?” asked Lysandra.
“I don’t know. It may be only weeks or it may be years, but I believe our peace will not last much longer. This war will affect us all, and I feel it will be sooner rather than later. I know I have given you all much to think about but there is one more piece of information you need to hear.” She looked about to take in all the women knowing that this other news would shock those who had travelled to join them, “Camille, the girl who is in Ptoraki, does not yet understand who she is, and we have chosen not to say anything until she is ready.” Alayna paused for emphasis. “She wears the Black with the six-barred shield and crossed swords.”
Silence hung in the air until Shirlee finally asked what many were all clearly thinking.
“Does she know the ancient histories?”
“No.”
“Then it seems we have interesting times ahead of us and I fear that a war between auchs and humans may only be part of that future.” Shirlee nodded.
Chapter 5
The last of the evening light competed with the flickering of the candles as Xavier sat alone at his desk. Impatience nagged at his core. He took a paper from the top of the pile that seemed to continually grow, and read it. The words made no sense. He read it again, and a third time before accepting that he would not be able to concentrate until he had news from the council. He replaced the paper and straightened the pile.
Something was needed that could distract him. Perhaps sword training in the barracks would be ideal, he thought. He could easily become lost in the intricate moves and it would occupy both his mind and his hands. It would not give him the time to think. That was what he needed, except that he wished to remain in his apartment. Pushing himself to his feet, he paced back and forth across the room before forcing himself to stop at the window. His arms strained with tension as he stood with hands clasped tightly behind his back, while trying to relax.
Below, the shadows were taking the city like the black army of his imagination. A few soldiers tended their horses in the courtyard and beyond the palace walls plumes of smoke grew like an ethereal forest above the houses of Whitebridge. Movement on the streets had quietened and he could hear the sounds of laughter and merriment coming from the various inns and establishments of pleasure that dotted the eastern quarter, but concern for how this day would end consumed him and the sounds of a life without tension grew annoying.
He turned to walk back to the bed, changed his mind, and instead called for his pageboy. The lad was almost useless and needed to be constantly reminded of his chores, but he would learn in time, at least Xavier hoped he would if he could find the patience to give him time. Once again Xavier wondered what had happened to Leopold’s pageboy. That lad had demonstrated his loyalty to the defeated king when he disappeared to take word of their coup, but he had known his duties and may have been good to have around. But Xavier reminded himself that the boy could never have accepted his rule and could not be trusted. If he had not run it would have been necessary to have him killed.
When his current pageboy arrived, the fourth in a line of lads he had tried for the position, Xavier instructed him to bring wine and food. Preparation for the meeting and waiting for the outcome had killed any desire for food and he had not eaten all day. Now he realised he was hungry. Back at the window he watched as the soldiers below led their horses to the stables while the sky purpled and the first stars sprinkled the approaching night.
Beth would be here soon, he hoped, She will bring with her news of the council’s deliberations. He had left them alone to discuss his plan and was impatient for their reactions. He needed Beth to tell him of their thoughts.
Things were coming together faster than he expected, faster than he could have hoped, but without the council’s approval, momentum would be lost. Nothing was going to stop him, but he could be slowed. It was now only a matter of when he would see his dream come to life, but he had become impatient given his recent successes. He may be the king but the council still controlled The Society for the moment and that included a large portion of the most influential people of Arenia. He needed to gain control of these people. Only then would the support he needed be assured into the future. After that, the council could do as they pleased.
The candles began to win the fight for supremacy as the sun gave up its struggle. Night floated over the city and in through the window. Xavier heard the door open behind him and turned. Expecting Beth, he was surprised to see the soldier standing at the open door, his black cape held with a gold clasp shaped like three soaring birds nestled into each other, signifying his position as one of the royal guard. When he had placed Field Captain Harold in charge of the city guard, the man had specially selected those who would be close to him for their loyalty and skill. The guard informed him that Grarm wished an audience with the king.
Once again he was surprised.
“Good evening, my king,” offered Grarm as he slipped past the guard and gave a deep bow.
The soldier scowled as he stood ready with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Xavier ordered the councillor to rise and the guard reluctantly closed the door.
“Would you like some wine?” offered Xavier, in order to give him time to think of why this man was here. He poured two goblets without waiting for a reply while Grarm moved to sit in one of the king’s chairs. He, too, did not wait for an invitation. Xavier paused at the audacity of the man, but he needed to know why he was here and what news he had, so, without objecting, he brought the councillor his wine before taking a seat himself. He sat, sipping at the wine, expecting Grarm to speak. When he didn’t, Xavier was forced to open the conversation.
“How may I be of help to you?”
Grarm took his time before he replied with a question of his own, “Did you plot to kill Arwen and take his throne?”
“No,” Xavier answered calmly.
Grarm took the time to consider the king’s answer.
Xavier waited.
“Did you know that Beth was going to name you king?” Grarm asked, finally.
“Again, no.” replied Xavier.
So this is what he came to hear. The council did not trust his motives but saw the value in his ideas. Through Grarm, they wished to satisfy themselves of his intentions. Xavier conceded he could give them that.
Grarm again took time to think before deciding. He took a sip of his wine but his eyes never left the king. Xavier sat quietly, returning his gaze.
“That is what Beth told us. She also gave her reasons for putting you on the throne.”
Xavier raised his brow in a questioning gesture.
“Her reasoning is simple and of no real concern to you other than it is in the interests of The Society. For that reason I will tell you anyway.” His eyes bore into the king while he spoke. “She believes that with Arwen as King of Arenia, The Society would have survived and been comfortable. We may even have grown a little. But she also believes that we must be more than satisfied with our situation, we must use it to our advantage. With you she believes it will grow into what we all hope it would be and from what we have seen and what you have suggested, the council agrees. We are still not sure how much we can trust you but accept that you have done nothing yet to cause us to doubt