The Beginnings
WHEN COMES THE KING: A Tale From The Land Of Nod
Chapter One:
The Beginnings
The Beginnings
The Hosts of Heaven gathered before the throne of God with the evil one in their midst.
“Your brothers have come to give me praise,” said God. “Why have you come?”
“I have come to demand what is mine,” he replied.
“Your season will come,” responded God, “and you will receive what you have earned.”
Medgag: Stories From Creation
All three men were of the dark arts. Their dress was of total black, robes that went from head to feet, gloves and boots. The trip up the mountain took them seven days. They had waited in hiding for the darkness of this night to descend on them before they emerged.
Masked by the night they made their preparations for the evening’s task. Wood for the fire, powders to be mixed and the most important of all, the blood of the innocent. After much discussion, they had chosen to bring a lamb with them. He was newborn, white and completely without blemish.
Looking toward the distant city they watched the lights of the oil lamps drift up to their hide-a-way. They studied each light that appeared until they saw the light whose color changed between blue, red and orange. The color change took place in four counts, blue, red and orange. One sequence would have been enough. They had not missed the signal.
The fire under a large black cauldron was the first priority. Powder, coated on the logs, and ignited by a spark from a flint, started the blaze. Rapidly the flames grew hot and the pot began to heat up. With a knife they slit the neck of the lamb and drained the blood into two bowls. A mixture of powders was added to one of the bowls of blood while they chanted. The language of the chant was not of the tongue of men.
The powders altered the red color of the blood to white.
The second bowl of blood from the dead lamb was combined with another mixture of powders. This bowl of blood changed into a thick black concoction. Again, they chanted as they mixed the bowl.
One of the men held the bowl with the white colored blood. Another took the black colored bowl and the third picked up a bowl filled with water. The three encircled the cauldron chanting a new verse. They circled the pot for six counts then reversed and circled the cauldron for one count in the opposite direction.
As they concluded the chant’s last stand, they raised the bowls over their heads and dropped them into the now red-hot cauldron shattering the clay pottery mixing the liquids. The new mixture of all three bowls sat in the pot for only a moment. It began to glow. Then, suddenly, a white ball of fire shot out of the large kettle arching into the night sky.
The fiery ball held itself suspended over the city below. From the streets of the city, the ball appeared to be a star, lowered from the heavens. The men started another chant the purpose of which was to keep the fireball in place. They chanted for three full watches. Stopping their chanting only when the light from the ball fizzled into the darkness.
Digging a pit they buried the remains of the cauldron, lamb and anything else that might leave a clue to the night’s activities.
With their work completed, they returned to their hiding place. The drain on their spiritual energy had exhausted them. The three would sleep at least a week before they would have sufficient strength to descend the mountain.
They had been well paid. They could afford a short rest.
**
The Sanctuary was aglow and full of activity. Every torch and oil lamp was lit. This night was no ordinary one. The Order would have special visitors. Each scribe, dweller and Gifted at the Sanctuary was gathered in the courtyard waiting their arrival. Master Keron and the Council of Gifted stood at the entrance clothed in the red cloaks of the Gifted. Three figures, covered from head to foot in white robes, entered the courtyard where the Council greeted them. The rest of the assembly remained back from the small group, silent. The visitors removed their hoods. They were elves. The distinctive ears that came to a point, the golden eyes and their dark smooth skin devoid of hair, testified to their elfdom.
The greetings were brief followed by whispered conversations. With their message delivered, the elves left without partaking of the Order’s hospitality. But the Council was unconcerned. There was much to be done and the night would be long with tasks. Council members rushed away to meet behind the closed doors of the council chambers in the High Tower. Small groups of the Order remained in the courtyard to discuss the night’s events before they, too, dispersed to their own rooms for the evening.
A young scribe took it all in from the back of the courtyard. It was all so exciting and mysterious. A sense of adventure was in the air.
“Your brothers have come to give me praise,” said God. “Why have you come?”
“I have come to demand what is mine,” he replied.
“Your season will come,” responded God, “and you will receive what you have earned.”
Medgag: Stories From Creation
All three men were of the dark arts. Their dress was of total black, robes that went from head to feet, gloves and boots. The trip up the mountain took them seven days. They had waited in hiding for the darkness of this night to descend on them before they emerged.
Masked by the night they made their preparations for the evening’s task. Wood for the fire, powders to be mixed and the most important of all, the blood of the innocent. After much discussion, they had chosen to bring a lamb with them. He was newborn, white and completely without blemish.
Looking toward the distant city they watched the lights of the oil lamps drift up to their hide-a-way. They studied each light that appeared until they saw the light whose color changed between blue, red and orange. The color change took place in four counts, blue, red and orange. One sequence would have been enough. They had not missed the signal.
The fire under a large black cauldron was the first priority. Powder, coated on the logs, and ignited by a spark from a flint, started the blaze. Rapidly the flames grew hot and the pot began to heat up. With a knife they slit the neck of the lamb and drained the blood into two bowls. A mixture of powders was added to one of the bowls of blood while they chanted. The language of the chant was not of the tongue of men.
The powders altered the red color of the blood to white.
The second bowl of blood from the dead lamb was combined with another mixture of powders. This bowl of blood changed into a thick black concoction. Again, they chanted as they mixed the bowl.
One of the men held the bowl with the white colored blood. Another took the black colored bowl and the third picked up a bowl filled with water. The three encircled the cauldron chanting a new verse. They circled the pot for six counts then reversed and circled the cauldron for one count in the opposite direction.
As they concluded the chant’s last stand, they raised the bowls over their heads and dropped them into the now red-hot cauldron shattering the clay pottery mixing the liquids. The new mixture of all three bowls sat in the pot for only a moment. It began to glow. Then, suddenly, a white ball of fire shot out of the large kettle arching into the night sky.
The fiery ball held itself suspended over the city below. From the streets of the city, the ball appeared to be a star, lowered from the heavens. The men started another chant the purpose of which was to keep the fireball in place. They chanted for three full watches. Stopping their chanting only when the light from the ball fizzled into the darkness.
Digging a pit they buried the remains of the cauldron, lamb and anything else that might leave a clue to the night’s activities.
With their work completed, they returned to their hiding place. The drain on their spiritual energy had exhausted them. The three would sleep at least a week before they would have sufficient strength to descend the mountain.
They had been well paid. They could afford a short rest.
**
The Sanctuary was aglow and full of activity. Every torch and oil lamp was lit. This night was no ordinary one. The Order would have special visitors. Each scribe, dweller and Gifted at the Sanctuary was gathered in the courtyard waiting their arrival. Master Keron and the Council of Gifted stood at the entrance clothed in the red cloaks of the Gifted. Three figures, covered from head to foot in white robes, entered the courtyard where the Council greeted them. The rest of the assembly remained back from the small group, silent. The visitors removed their hoods. They were elves. The distinctive ears that came to a point, the golden eyes and their dark smooth skin devoid of hair, testified to their elfdom.
The greetings were brief followed by whispered conversations. With their message delivered, the elves left without partaking of the Order’s hospitality. But the Council was unconcerned. There was much to be done and the night would be long with tasks. Council members rushed away to meet behind the closed doors of the council chambers in the High Tower. Small groups of the Order remained in the courtyard to discuss the night’s events before they, too, dispersed to their own rooms for the evening.
A young scribe took it all in from the back of the courtyard. It was all so exciting and mysterious. A sense of adventure was in the air.
* *
Chapter Two:
The Dark Lands
Understand that our true battles are not against the weapons of this world or the flesh of men. No, we fight against the enemies of the Way of God in all their formations. The rulers and masters, soldiers and minions of the dark way who seek nothing but to destroy man’s relationship with his God.
Medgag: Disciplines of Faith
Lameleck trembled as he stood in the massive room. How, he wondered, could a room so dark still be so light?
He had never known such fear in all his life. Though, the passage through the Stone Mountains had not been without its fearsome moments, as when he had stumbled on a band of thieves as they were pillaging the remains of a caravan they had just attacked. In their haste to find booty they did not notice one scared little man moving stealthily from behind one boulder to another until he was safely beyond them.
The Dark City was a relief to find at the end of the pass connecting the Land of Nod to the Dark Lands. However, the night he spent within its walls was by no means restful. He barely slept in his room having stopped at the first lodge to which he had come. The night was full of the screams of the unknown victims of someone’s rage. And, when there were no cries of the distressed, there was the laughter of the drunk and the near drunken, and the seductive cries of the women of the night to keep him awake.
He had been told to keep to the Road of the Star. But Lameleck was unprepared for the road. It was no wider at most points than two men on horseback riding side-by-side and was constructed of wood and stone forming one large bridge spanning the land. Pillars and columns lifted the road ten lengths of a man above the ground. He did not have to travel long to discover why. Below him he saw great beasts whose footfalls shook the land and the road. Some of the beasts were so tall that they would snap at passersby on the road. These monsters walked on their hind feet and covered large distances quickly. Two men had gotten into an altercation on the road in which one of the men was thrown off during the tussle. Several of the massive beasts attacked him, as he lay stunned. They ripped and tore at the man and each other until one of them won the fight and carried the limp, yet still living body away.
Finally, he arrived at the City of Pillars. The city was more of a large fortification constructed in the middle of a desolate land. Its walls and towers of dark stone rose from the ground as if they had been grown rather than built. Sinister shadowy guards walked the battlements with their long spears and gray armor blending them into the walls they defended. Above the city, in the perpetually blackened skies, continuous bolts of lightening flashed and thunder clapped. Distant mountains belched fire and black smoke.
Before Lameleck could rest he was summoned before his master. The throne room in which he now stood was so large that he could not see from one end to the other. Massive pillars held up the ceiling elevated more than one hundred lengths of a man above his head clouded in a haze. The haze permeated the exterior of the room masking an audience he could hear but not see watching his every movement. The room was lit but Lameleck could not identify the source of the light as the building was devoid of windows or any kind. Guards led him into the center of the room where there was a large stone throne. The stones were the reddish color of dried blood. On the throne was the biggest, blackest, ugliest troll he had ever seen, not that he had seen that many in his life. The muscular trunk of the Dark One was larger than a wine barrel with arms the size of tree limbs covered by rough black skin. His head and hairless face were the shape of a large gorilla and he had shoulder-length soot black hair. When he spoke, Lameleck could see his pointy teeth. The troll’s eyes were as dark as black pearls, glowing in the mist of the room.
“You have brought a report?” the troll spat at Lameleck.
“My master Zeus,” he bowed, unable to keep from shaking, “the king of King’s Mountains has called for a council of the Seven Clans. There is talk that he will seek to unite the nations of men under his banner.”
“What is his claim?” roared Zeus
Some confidence filled Lameleck. He had done his research well. “The queen has given the king a son. He is the seventh son, born in the seventieth season of the king. And on the night of his birth a star appeared low over the city. King Crom is telling all who will listen that he is the guardian of the future King of Kings.”
“And what do you think of this…development, merchant?” snarled the troll.
Merchant, it was true enough. Lameleck had spent his whole life trading. At first it was agricultural commodities but eventually he began to trade in flesh when he learned that the profits were more than triple anything he could make trading vegetables. Even though strictly forbidden in the Land of Nod, he discovered a lucrative market in the lands beyond the Stone Mountains. Lameleck was hungry for the power that came with wealth. This hunger drove him to ignore the suffering of others. He established contacts in the Dark Lands and supplied them all the warm bodies he could get his hands on. In the process he had created an extensive network of contacts in the lawless quarters of most of the nations of men where he recruited the associates who procured and transported his merchandise.
Then, almost a season past, one of his customers, a troll, came to him with a proposition. He would trade for information. Initially the bits of information requested seemed to Lameleck as trivial and unimportant. Slowly the demands became more focused and detailed. The trader realized that the information was of the type needed by one army to attack and subdue another. But it was too late for him to turn back. He was hooked on the wealth provided for each piece of news he brought his masters. Plus, he, like all of his kind, rarely thought ahead to the harm his actions would bring to others.
There was no illusion in his mind that he was indeed anything but their servant. His status and the price of failure were made quite clear on many occasions. Nevertheless, he could care less. He was the richest man he knew. Anything and anyone he wanted was at his command. Lameleck had long since stopped counting the women he owned to service his needs or the servants he possessed to run his many homes.
The servant-hood to his troll masters seemed such a small price to pay for all that it gave him personally. That was until he received the summons. One dark, dark night his home was invaded by one of the trolls who brought him the demands for his service. They usually came under the cover of darkness because trolls were not liked by most humans, even those of Stone City. That night the messenger instructed him to go to The City of Kings. His masters wanted to know when the child was born to King Crom and of what gender the child was. He was to watch for the birth himself and report on any and everything that happened around the birth of the child.
The request intrigued Lameleck. He had been so conditioned to retrieving military and political information for the Dark Ones that he did not ask why but, this one caught his interest. He visited libraries and talked with the scholars of the documents of men. With his own wealth he traded for facts and speculations. Then he learned of the prophecy long forgotten and his cold blood went to ice and his hardened heart knew fear.
He traveled to The City of Kings as the destiny of the queen drew near. The festive atmosphere of the city did nothing to warm his blood. He stood on the balcony of the house he had purchased overlooking the palace and watched that night as the birth of the seventh son of Crom the Younger was announced to the cheering crowd. He witnessed with the throng the star appearing in the heavens above the city on the very watch of the young prince’s birth. Unlike the people in the street, though, he did not cheer the news. He had read the documents of the prophets and holy men of the ancients and a man with his past was in no position to welcome the new born. While the city celebrated the birth of prince Christophe, Lameleck drank himself into oblivion.
He started back to his home in Stone City the next day. There was little opportunity for him to speculate about what to do with what he had learned. No sooner had he crossed the threshold of his house than the troll came to call. The summons was clear. He was to come immediately to the City of Pillars and he was to come alone.
So, here he stood before this ugly, fowl smelling poor excuse for a living creature. Yet, the trader was helpless to resist. He had set his course seasons ago and now it was the moment to settle his debt. He envied the ancients, of whom he had read, for they had had a God to call upon in their seasons of great trial. The merchant, never having bothered with such things his life, stood alone.
“What do you think of this development, human?” the troll demanded. “I am not in the habit of being kept waiting when I ask a question.”
Lameleck took a deep breath and released it as slowly as he could. “I believe, master, that it could mean a uniting of all the nations of men is possible. The people have grown tired of the warring that goes on between the kings. The clashes over the petty quarrels are tiresome to the common folk. I think they are ready to again become one race. It is possible that even the Stoners might be prepared to join the other nations.”
The troll snorted moisture from his nose. Lameleck felt some drops on his shaking hands but resisted the urge to wipe them off. “And what of the old ways?”
The question took him by surprise. “The ‘old ways?’ Do you mean the worship of G….?”
The bellow of the troll was earsplitting and reverberated through the hall with such a force that Lameleck could hear it ringing in his ears. He could not stop himself from falling to his knees and covering his ears with his hands. From the shadows of the massive room he heard the echoed painful cries of the hidden audience responding to the troll’s anger.
“Do not use that name here!”
“I am sorry, master. Forgive me,” Lameleck stammered from his knees. “Forgive me.”
Zeus sat back on his throne. He thought for several moments resting his chin on his sword hand. Lameleck stayed where he was on his knees. He did not have the strength or the courage to stand up. Finally the Dark One spoke, “Do you think that humans will return to their old ways?”
“I think that depends,” said the merchant, surprised at the calmness in his voice. It helped to keep his eyes lowered and not look directly at his inquisitor. “If their one king seeks after…the old ways with all his heart, they will follow. But if he is like all the other kings of seasons past, the people will not change their ways. They will continue as they have always done.”
Zeus nodded while his hand massaged his chin. “What course of action would you recommend, O son of Adam?” asked the troll. His head was tilted to the side and he had what could only be described as an ironic smile, that is, if trolls could be said to have the ability to smile.
Careful, thought Lameleck. This is dangerous ground. “I would think that there are three courses of action for any who might not see the uniting of the nations of men as a good thing. One is to wait to see what type of king this boy becomes. After all, what are the odds of him being a really good king? His father has proven to be no different then those who proceeded him. Or, the second option is to kill the child before he has a chance to be the king who unites all of the nations of men. Without the newborn prince, Crom would find it impossible to bring all the people nations together. However, the most ideal solution would be to take the child into protective custody and grow him into a suitable king.”
Lameleck took a deep breath, “There is a problem, though.”
Surprise flashed across on the face of the troll. He came forward out of his throne so quickly that Lameleck did not have the chance to move out of the way as the troll grabbed him by the back of the head and drew his face so close to Lameleck’s own that the trader could smell his breath.
“What do you mean, human?” the troll spit into his face.
“Well, my master,” Lameleck tried to pull back but the troll’s grip was too firm, “the prophecy is so vague as to make it difficult to know of whom it speaks. It might be the child or King Crom but then again it could be any of his other six sons. Also, do not forget that he does have a daughter. She could very well marry the one who would become the uniter of men. The only verifiable fact is that there was a star over the city at the birth of the young prince. Though we must consider the possibility that maybe this is not the occasion of the Great King, it could be that someone might use this existing situation to advance their own agenda regardless of the validity of any of the prophecies of the current events.”
The room was bathed in a blanket of silence as Zeus considered Lameleck's words. Finally, he pointed his wagging finger at the trader. “You are most correct, human. We must thank you for your effort. You have done us a great service.”
When the troll released Lameleck, he fell backward onto the floor. Carefully, with his eyes cast downward, the merchant stood.
“You are most kind, master.” Lameleck started to back away from the throne. He hoped that he could bring the audience to an end and escape the oppressive room. Bowing continuously he had taken two steps back when he noticed that the Dark One was not alone on his throne. Beside him on each side were two beasts. Smaller versions of the ones he had seen along the Road of the Star. They were staring at him. Their eyes were a dark glow.
“Unfortunately, we have come to believe that your usefulness to us has been exhausted. Your loyalties are now in question, given the knowledge you possess. Such a pity you felt the need to research the subject so thoroughly.”
The two creatures moved away from the throne and towards Lameleck frozen in fright by the sight of them.
“We would be foolish to let you leave the Kingdom of the Morning Star after having given it so much of your life and effort,” Zeus sneered. “He is yours,” he said to the beasts still looking into Lameleck’s eyes.
Lameleck’s last moments of life were filled with more terror than he ever dreamed could exist. He closed his eyes and tried to protect his face from his attackers with his crossed arms. There was pain, such terrible pain, and he screamed until his throat was ripped away. He did not hear the cheers of the onlookers couched in the darkness of the giant room. He was now beyond all hope.
Medgag: Disciplines of Faith
Lameleck trembled as he stood in the massive room. How, he wondered, could a room so dark still be so light?
He had never known such fear in all his life. Though, the passage through the Stone Mountains had not been without its fearsome moments, as when he had stumbled on a band of thieves as they were pillaging the remains of a caravan they had just attacked. In their haste to find booty they did not notice one scared little man moving stealthily from behind one boulder to another until he was safely beyond them.
The Dark City was a relief to find at the end of the pass connecting the Land of Nod to the Dark Lands. However, the night he spent within its walls was by no means restful. He barely slept in his room having stopped at the first lodge to which he had come. The night was full of the screams of the unknown victims of someone’s rage. And, when there were no cries of the distressed, there was the laughter of the drunk and the near drunken, and the seductive cries of the women of the night to keep him awake.
He had been told to keep to the Road of the Star. But Lameleck was unprepared for the road. It was no wider at most points than two men on horseback riding side-by-side and was constructed of wood and stone forming one large bridge spanning the land. Pillars and columns lifted the road ten lengths of a man above the ground. He did not have to travel long to discover why. Below him he saw great beasts whose footfalls shook the land and the road. Some of the beasts were so tall that they would snap at passersby on the road. These monsters walked on their hind feet and covered large distances quickly. Two men had gotten into an altercation on the road in which one of the men was thrown off during the tussle. Several of the massive beasts attacked him, as he lay stunned. They ripped and tore at the man and each other until one of them won the fight and carried the limp, yet still living body away.
Finally, he arrived at the City of Pillars. The city was more of a large fortification constructed in the middle of a desolate land. Its walls and towers of dark stone rose from the ground as if they had been grown rather than built. Sinister shadowy guards walked the battlements with their long spears and gray armor blending them into the walls they defended. Above the city, in the perpetually blackened skies, continuous bolts of lightening flashed and thunder clapped. Distant mountains belched fire and black smoke.
Before Lameleck could rest he was summoned before his master. The throne room in which he now stood was so large that he could not see from one end to the other. Massive pillars held up the ceiling elevated more than one hundred lengths of a man above his head clouded in a haze. The haze permeated the exterior of the room masking an audience he could hear but not see watching his every movement. The room was lit but Lameleck could not identify the source of the light as the building was devoid of windows or any kind. Guards led him into the center of the room where there was a large stone throne. The stones were the reddish color of dried blood. On the throne was the biggest, blackest, ugliest troll he had ever seen, not that he had seen that many in his life. The muscular trunk of the Dark One was larger than a wine barrel with arms the size of tree limbs covered by rough black skin. His head and hairless face were the shape of a large gorilla and he had shoulder-length soot black hair. When he spoke, Lameleck could see his pointy teeth. The troll’s eyes were as dark as black pearls, glowing in the mist of the room.
“You have brought a report?” the troll spat at Lameleck.
“My master Zeus,” he bowed, unable to keep from shaking, “the king of King’s Mountains has called for a council of the Seven Clans. There is talk that he will seek to unite the nations of men under his banner.”
“What is his claim?” roared Zeus
Some confidence filled Lameleck. He had done his research well. “The queen has given the king a son. He is the seventh son, born in the seventieth season of the king. And on the night of his birth a star appeared low over the city. King Crom is telling all who will listen that he is the guardian of the future King of Kings.”
“And what do you think of this…development, merchant?” snarled the troll.
Merchant, it was true enough. Lameleck had spent his whole life trading. At first it was agricultural commodities but eventually he began to trade in flesh when he learned that the profits were more than triple anything he could make trading vegetables. Even though strictly forbidden in the Land of Nod, he discovered a lucrative market in the lands beyond the Stone Mountains. Lameleck was hungry for the power that came with wealth. This hunger drove him to ignore the suffering of others. He established contacts in the Dark Lands and supplied them all the warm bodies he could get his hands on. In the process he had created an extensive network of contacts in the lawless quarters of most of the nations of men where he recruited the associates who procured and transported his merchandise.
Then, almost a season past, one of his customers, a troll, came to him with a proposition. He would trade for information. Initially the bits of information requested seemed to Lameleck as trivial and unimportant. Slowly the demands became more focused and detailed. The trader realized that the information was of the type needed by one army to attack and subdue another. But it was too late for him to turn back. He was hooked on the wealth provided for each piece of news he brought his masters. Plus, he, like all of his kind, rarely thought ahead to the harm his actions would bring to others.
There was no illusion in his mind that he was indeed anything but their servant. His status and the price of failure were made quite clear on many occasions. Nevertheless, he could care less. He was the richest man he knew. Anything and anyone he wanted was at his command. Lameleck had long since stopped counting the women he owned to service his needs or the servants he possessed to run his many homes.
The servant-hood to his troll masters seemed such a small price to pay for all that it gave him personally. That was until he received the summons. One dark, dark night his home was invaded by one of the trolls who brought him the demands for his service. They usually came under the cover of darkness because trolls were not liked by most humans, even those of Stone City. That night the messenger instructed him to go to The City of Kings. His masters wanted to know when the child was born to King Crom and of what gender the child was. He was to watch for the birth himself and report on any and everything that happened around the birth of the child.
The request intrigued Lameleck. He had been so conditioned to retrieving military and political information for the Dark Ones that he did not ask why but, this one caught his interest. He visited libraries and talked with the scholars of the documents of men. With his own wealth he traded for facts and speculations. Then he learned of the prophecy long forgotten and his cold blood went to ice and his hardened heart knew fear.
He traveled to The City of Kings as the destiny of the queen drew near. The festive atmosphere of the city did nothing to warm his blood. He stood on the balcony of the house he had purchased overlooking the palace and watched that night as the birth of the seventh son of Crom the Younger was announced to the cheering crowd. He witnessed with the throng the star appearing in the heavens above the city on the very watch of the young prince’s birth. Unlike the people in the street, though, he did not cheer the news. He had read the documents of the prophets and holy men of the ancients and a man with his past was in no position to welcome the new born. While the city celebrated the birth of prince Christophe, Lameleck drank himself into oblivion.
He started back to his home in Stone City the next day. There was little opportunity for him to speculate about what to do with what he had learned. No sooner had he crossed the threshold of his house than the troll came to call. The summons was clear. He was to come immediately to the City of Pillars and he was to come alone.
So, here he stood before this ugly, fowl smelling poor excuse for a living creature. Yet, the trader was helpless to resist. He had set his course seasons ago and now it was the moment to settle his debt. He envied the ancients, of whom he had read, for they had had a God to call upon in their seasons of great trial. The merchant, never having bothered with such things his life, stood alone.
“What do you think of this development, human?” the troll demanded. “I am not in the habit of being kept waiting when I ask a question.”
Lameleck took a deep breath and released it as slowly as he could. “I believe, master, that it could mean a uniting of all the nations of men is possible. The people have grown tired of the warring that goes on between the kings. The clashes over the petty quarrels are tiresome to the common folk. I think they are ready to again become one race. It is possible that even the Stoners might be prepared to join the other nations.”
The troll snorted moisture from his nose. Lameleck felt some drops on his shaking hands but resisted the urge to wipe them off. “And what of the old ways?”
The question took him by surprise. “The ‘old ways?’ Do you mean the worship of G….?”
The bellow of the troll was earsplitting and reverberated through the hall with such a force that Lameleck could hear it ringing in his ears. He could not stop himself from falling to his knees and covering his ears with his hands. From the shadows of the massive room he heard the echoed painful cries of the hidden audience responding to the troll’s anger.
“Do not use that name here!”
“I am sorry, master. Forgive me,” Lameleck stammered from his knees. “Forgive me.”
Zeus sat back on his throne. He thought for several moments resting his chin on his sword hand. Lameleck stayed where he was on his knees. He did not have the strength or the courage to stand up. Finally the Dark One spoke, “Do you think that humans will return to their old ways?”
“I think that depends,” said the merchant, surprised at the calmness in his voice. It helped to keep his eyes lowered and not look directly at his inquisitor. “If their one king seeks after…the old ways with all his heart, they will follow. But if he is like all the other kings of seasons past, the people will not change their ways. They will continue as they have always done.”
Zeus nodded while his hand massaged his chin. “What course of action would you recommend, O son of Adam?” asked the troll. His head was tilted to the side and he had what could only be described as an ironic smile, that is, if trolls could be said to have the ability to smile.
Careful, thought Lameleck. This is dangerous ground. “I would think that there are three courses of action for any who might not see the uniting of the nations of men as a good thing. One is to wait to see what type of king this boy becomes. After all, what are the odds of him being a really good king? His father has proven to be no different then those who proceeded him. Or, the second option is to kill the child before he has a chance to be the king who unites all of the nations of men. Without the newborn prince, Crom would find it impossible to bring all the people nations together. However, the most ideal solution would be to take the child into protective custody and grow him into a suitable king.”
Lameleck took a deep breath, “There is a problem, though.”
Surprise flashed across on the face of the troll. He came forward out of his throne so quickly that Lameleck did not have the chance to move out of the way as the troll grabbed him by the back of the head and drew his face so close to Lameleck’s own that the trader could smell his breath.
“What do you mean, human?” the troll spit into his face.
“Well, my master,” Lameleck tried to pull back but the troll’s grip was too firm, “the prophecy is so vague as to make it difficult to know of whom it speaks. It might be the child or King Crom but then again it could be any of his other six sons. Also, do not forget that he does have a daughter. She could very well marry the one who would become the uniter of men. The only verifiable fact is that there was a star over the city at the birth of the young prince. Though we must consider the possibility that maybe this is not the occasion of the Great King, it could be that someone might use this existing situation to advance their own agenda regardless of the validity of any of the prophecies of the current events.”
The room was bathed in a blanket of silence as Zeus considered Lameleck's words. Finally, he pointed his wagging finger at the trader. “You are most correct, human. We must thank you for your effort. You have done us a great service.”
When the troll released Lameleck, he fell backward onto the floor. Carefully, with his eyes cast downward, the merchant stood.
“You are most kind, master.” Lameleck started to back away from the throne. He hoped that he could bring the audience to an end and escape the oppressive room. Bowing continuously he had taken two steps back when he noticed that the Dark One was not alone on his throne. Beside him on each side were two beasts. Smaller versions of the ones he had seen along the Road of the Star. They were staring at him. Their eyes were a dark glow.
“Unfortunately, we have come to believe that your usefulness to us has been exhausted. Your loyalties are now in question, given the knowledge you possess. Such a pity you felt the need to research the subject so thoroughly.”
The two creatures moved away from the throne and towards Lameleck frozen in fright by the sight of them.
“We would be foolish to let you leave the Kingdom of the Morning Star after having given it so much of your life and effort,” Zeus sneered. “He is yours,” he said to the beasts still looking into Lameleck’s eyes.
Lameleck’s last moments of life were filled with more terror than he ever dreamed could exist. He closed his eyes and tried to protect his face from his attackers with his crossed arms. There was pain, such terrible pain, and he screamed until his throat was ripped away. He did not hear the cheers of the onlookers couched in the darkness of the giant room. He was now beyond all hope.
posted by Richard W Black at 9:03 PM
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