Haladras (26 page)

“I say we disguise Krom as Morvath,” said Endrick. “All we’d
need to find is an evil black ship and a frightened minion or two.”

Krom said, ignoring Endrick’s comment, “Are you certain we
could not persuade Aberforce? Even if we brought him Prince Korbyn?”

Lasseter shook his head. “Aberforce must remain unadvised as
long as possible. For I fear, in the end, he will prove our enemy.”

“Can we not call a clandestine assemblage of this council
you speak of?” said Krom.

“Possibly. But the Council members would cry treason if the
viceroy were not present. And we would need messengers to send to each of the
colonies. Which we don’t have. We need someone else, someone with power and
influence here.”

It was then that Skylar suddenly remembered seeing the
Supernova in the port’s hangar. That was the answer.

“Captain Arturo,” he said slowly.

Krom and Lasseter looked at him quizzically.

“He has as much influence as Aberforce himself, probably
more,” continued Skylar. “We’ll have him call the Council together. The viceroy
will not deny him.”

Krom looked from Skylar to Lasseter.

“Is this true? Can this captain help us?”

No answer escaped Lasseter’s mouth. But an intimation of a
smile showed in his green eyes as he faintly nodded his head.

They counseled a few moments more, Lasseter and Skylar
giving Krom suggestions on how to find the celebrated captain. Krom had decided
that he would seek out Arturo alone, while the other companions remained in
hiding. Secretly, Skylar wondered how Krom, a complete stranger to Arturo,
planned to persuade the captain to help them. More likely than anything, Arturo
would take Krom for a lunatic, an escapee from an asylum, and send for a
doctor, or soldiers. Krom acted confident, however. Nor did Lasseter gainsay
his old companion. Skylar insisted on going along.

“He might remember me, at least,” said Skylar. “I did help
save his ship.”

Krom would hear none of it.

With no more preparation that that, Krom was gone, leaving
the others with naught to do but wait and hope.

TWENTY-FIVE

T
HE COUNCIL HOUSE
hummed with
the anxious chatter of hundreds of voices. It reminded Skylar of the last time
he’d been there with Kindor. A distant past it felt to him now. The scene was
nearly identical to that one. The upper balconies brimmed with curious
spectators and concerned citizens, all alive with conversations speculating the
cause for the meeting. The lower seats gradually filled with the white-robed
Council members. The only difference this time was that Skylar sat on the floor
level, just below the first row of Council seats, across the center floor from
the viceroy’s own chair.

How all this had happened so quickly Skylar did not know.
Only the day before had Krom sought out Captain Arturo. Somehow he had won the
captain’s confidence and support. By what magic art of speech, Skylar could not
guess. Krom was obviously more that the rough exterior that met one’s eye.
Astounding yet was the swiftness with which Arturo had acted, urging Aberforce
with all haste to assemble the Council. And not a hint of the reason for the
meeting did Arturo give him. Scarcely a day had passed since they had set their
plan in motion.

Skylar shifted in his chair nervously. Krom had not told him
what he intended to do, or what Arturo would say. Though he had a fairly good
idea what it might be, he preferred not to think about it. “Be ready,” had been
Krom’s only counsel.

The two men, Krom and Captain Arturo sat beside him, Krom on
his left, Arturo on his right. Endrick and Lasseter were seated somewhere
nearby, as well. Skylar’s thoughts were too preoccupied to worry about knowing
exactly where.

He suddenly wondered if Kindor was in the hall. What would
he think? Rasbus, too...and Rolander. Kendyl, even. His heart missed a beat.
What would they all think? In that moment, he felt quite small and vulnerable.

The assemblage grew quiet and all silently rose to their
feet. Skylar looked up and found that the viceroy had entered the hall. He
walked forward with that same stately air. But Skylar thought he detected a
smidgen of agitation in his eyes, like a man forced to do something he doesn’t
want to do. The viceroy took his seat and motioned for everyone else to do
likewise.

“I thank the Council for meeting again with no forewarning,”
began Aberforce. “The Council was called at the behest of Captain Arturo. He
has not even allowed me to glimpse into the topic of such urgency,” he
continued, an edge of annoyance cutting his words. “So let us defer directly to
him—Captain Arturo.”

Arturo rose to his feet and strode onto the center floor.

“Thank you, my lord,” said the captain. “You do me great
honor. When last I spoke before you, I brought disturbing news for Haladras and
the empire. Tonight, I bring you both hope and even graver tidings.”

A collective groan rose quietly from the congregation.

“Less than one month ago I stood before you and warned of
the growing tyranny of our king. Many here outwardly deny it, including our own
honorable viceroy. Yet only one who is dishonest with himself cannot see what
is happening.”

“Captain Arturo!” Aberforce’s angry voice echoed through the
hall. “If you have brought us here merely to raise rebellion among my people, I
will not have it! Already your voice has stirred overzealous hearts to believe
your disloyal doctrine. It’s time I put an end to it.”

“Then you sentence this people to the bondage of slavery,
just as those on Quoryn and Fenorra have suffered,” cried Arturo in reply.

Aberforce rose abruptly, his eyes blazing with anger.

“Enough! Your words are sufficient to bring down the wrath
of the most merciful of kings upon us. Be gone from here.”

The viceroy shot out his arm, finger pointed for Arturo to
leave. The captain’s stance faltered not a wit.

“I will not leave until I speak what the Council has a right
to hear.”

“Guards!” cried Aberforce. “Guards!”

“You may try to stop my voice, but that will not stop the
king’s soldiers from coming. It will not stop a new leader, a governor, from
replacing you.”

“Guards, arrest this traitor.”

Two guards came rushing forward. Arturo quickly turned and
faced the council.

“They are coming. No manner of peace talk or pacifism can
stop them. I can prove they are coming.”

Even as he spoke these impassioned words, the guards seized
him and started hauling him away. Skylar was stunned. He turned to Krom. They
had to do something. Without Arturo their cause was lost. But Krom’s face
showed no sign of alarm.

How can he just sit there?

Suddenly, one of the Council members rose.

“My lord, I petition to let Captain Arturo speak.”

Another promptly rose.

“I echo the petition.”

Then another...and another...until nearly the whole Council
was on its feet, joined by the general assemblage, all clamoring, “Let him speak!
Let him speak! Let him speak!”

Red with vexation, Aberforce waved his hands and shook his
head in denial of their petition. Yet the more he did so, the louder they grew,
till the sound became deafening. Before he knew it, Skylar found that he, too, had
joined his voice with the others.

The guards, mystified by the tremendous uproar, halted
midway to the exit and gave the viceroy a questioning glance. Aberforce looked
as though he might explode. Despite his best efforts, however, he failed to
silence the crowd. Realizing his defeat, he signaled for the guards to release
Arturo. The entire hall erupted with cheers and applause.

When at last the hall grew still again, the viceroy, having
regained some of his composure, spoke sharply to the captain.

“It would appear that I’ve been overruled by your fellow
citizens. Pray, Arturo, that you do not lead this people into ruin.”

With that, he sat back in his chair, crossed his arms, and
furrowed his brow.

“My lord,” began Arturo calmly, “ruin can only come to this
people if I do not speak. I said that I could prove that the king’s soldiers
are coming to Haladras, perhaps even at our doorstep. Yes, I shall give you
proof.

“Yesterday, I was visited by a man who I only knew by name.
A man I believed to be dead these fourteen years. That man’s name is Sir
Krometheus Phynx, First Knight to King Athylian”

Arturo paused, as a wave of hushed astonishment filled the
hall. Skylar immediately turned to Krom.
Krometheus?
So
that
was
his true name.

“I invite him, now, to come forward and recount for you what
he recounted me.”

Krom sat still and silent for a moment before standing. When
he did, a tangible feeling of reverence coursed through the hall. Krom walked
forward, slowly, confidently. With a respectful bow of the head, Captain Arturo
left the center floor and returned to his seat next to Skylar.

“Fourteen years have passed since Tarus assumed the throne,”
began Krom. “Fourteen years since traitors plotted to have the royal family
murdered.” Aberforce squirmed in his seat and clenched the armrests of his
chair. “Fourteen years since Tarus began striking down his own knights.
Fourteen years since I fled Ahlderon and went into hiding. Fourteen years I’ve
guarded a secret that will shake the empire to its core. A secret to which,
until four years ago, Tarus remained ignorant, and which now causes him to pale
with fear. It haunts his every waking moment. His dreams become nightmares
because of it. The secret is this: Prince Korbyn Ducädese lives.”

Krom paused.

The silence was suffocating. Skylar felt as if he would be
sick. He didn’t want Krom to go on. He didn’t want his true identity revealed.
There was no stopping it, though. That he knew.

Gradually the audience began to stir, to rouse from its trance,
comprehension dawning. A councilman stood and spoke.

“And where is this lost prince? What proof have you that he
is indeed the son of Athylian?”

Krom nodded slowly. “I was present when the scene of that
perfidious act was investigated. The infant prince’s body was never found.
Athylian’s man servant, too, was missing. It was I who persuaded all who were
to report to Tarus that everyone had indeed been killed. Later, I followed the
trail of a man and infant child. After months of searching, I found them. I
found them here, on Haladras.”

The hall stirred with incredulity and wonder. But Krom
continued before their voices grew loud.

“For fourteen years the son of Athylian has lived here among
you, living like a commoner, and until a fortnight ago, knowing nothing of his
true parentage.”

“Who is he?” came a shout from someone high in the hall.

“Where is he?” shouted another.

Soon a clamor of voices filled the hall. Aberforce rose to
his feet and essayed to restore order. The people soon calmed. The viceroy asked
Krom to continue, for he too showed interest in the story, despite his anger.

“His identity I shall reveal shortly,” continued Krom.
Skylar felt as if truly he would be ill. He began to wish they had chosen to go
to Allega after all.

“For some time, Tarus has secretly sought to find the
prince. The strange insects of which you’ve heard numerous accounts were, in
fact, machines created by the King’s chief minister himself to track down the
prince. They found him here. They nearly trapped him and delivered him to their
master. But he escaped and has since been fleeing Morvath.

“I have sworn to protect the prince, even at the cost of my
life. I desired to take him to Allega, where asylum might be granted him by
Lord Rowvan. For weeks we have fled. We have come from Fenorra, where all was
almost lost; where Morvath himself managed to catch the prince long enough to
speak with him, to make the prince fear for the welfare of Haladras. It is
because of that interview that once we escaped and might have fled to Allega,
the prince insisted we come here—to warn his people. I shall let him speak to
you of what he heard. Prince Korbyn.”

Krom held out his extended hand toward Skylar, beckoning him
to come forward. Time seemed to freeze. Only Skylar’s mind and racing heart
continued to advance. He felt he couldn’t move. Then an unexpected flash of
Grim’s face filled his mind’s eye. Grim’s eyes were fixed on his and seemed to
repeat what Grim had told him when he was alive, ‘I will be your sword.’ The
image vanished and images of everyone he cared for replace it. His mother,
Lasseter, Kindor, Rasbus, Rolander...and it was enough.

Skylar slowly drew the hood back from his head, stood up,
and strode to the center of the floor. A few gasps of recognition, mingled with
murmured whispers, and the rustle of clothing as people leaned in for a closer
look reached his ears. He paid it no heed. Krom incline his head to Skylar
before bowing to the viceroy and striding back to his seat, leaving Skylar
alone.

Skylar did not look up or about him. He didn’t need to. As
palpable as the heat of a fire, he could feel their gazes fixed upon him,
watching his every movement, scrutinizing him. The viceroy was performing the
same exercise, one dark eyebrow slightly raised.

“You?” said the viceroy, with evident skepticism in his
tone. “You are the lost prince?”

It was a question Skylar had never been asked. Hither to,
others had always asserted his royal parentage for him. He hesitated at how to
respond.

“I am Skylar Lancerwright of Kaladra,” he said. “Until
recently that is all I knew. I have no official document, no special scar or
brand on my skin that proves I am the prince. But those whom I trust with my
life tell me I am. Morvath and his Trackers believe that I am. Yes, I am Skylar
of Kaladra, and I am the son of King Athylian.”

The viceroy rocked back in his seat, while hushed exchanges
passed hastily among the Council members.

“I see,” replied Aberforce after some mental deliberation.
“And you claim to have some secret knowledge about the fate of Haladras? Some
doom shall befall us?”

“Yes, my lord. From the mouth of Morvath.”

“And what did he tell you that the king has not shared with
me and this noble council?”

The viceroy’s words were cold, yet Skylar replied,
unperturbed.

“He means to come here with soldiers. He means to break
Haladras.”

“And why would he do that, boy?” said the viceroy, not
deigning to use Skylar’s proper title. “Why in the name of sanity would the
king send soldiers here to harm our peaceful colony?”

Still undeterred, Skylar went on, his confidence growing
with every doubt from Aberforce.

“Morvath said that word of civil unrest and sedition among
our people had reached the king’s ears.”

“Sedition!” exclaimed the viceroy. “Captain Arturo’s tongue
is the only thing here guilty of treason. Why would the king send troops
instead of coming to me? I have the king’s full confidence.”

Murmurs of agreement echoed from the Council members. These
Aberforce received with a proud smile. Skylar continued to stand his ground.

“Morvath wishes to intimidate me, to force me into joining
the empire’s cause.”

“And what cause is that?”

“As Arturo has said: tyranny; to eliminate our liberties; to
grow his power and control over his realm.”

Aberforce laughed derisively and leaned forward.

“I see Arturo’s been poisoning your mind.” Then he looked up
and addressed the Council. “This boy is clearly delusional, brain-washed by
stories from a few mad men.”

“I am not delusional,” cried Skylar, his face flushing red.
“I know—”

“My lord,” came a voice from among the Council, “there is
some merit to Sir Krometheus’ account. Could this not in very deed be
Athylian’s son?”

“Evidence is lacking,” said another, “we have no proof of
his words.”

“Proof,” agreed another.

“Form a committee,” shouted yet another.