He opened the door to the musicians loft above the fest hall and entered. He noticed that below in the room, people were already cleaning the long trestle tables and carved wooden benches. He leaned on one of the rails of the balcony and watched as suits of armor were dusted, banners taken down to be beaten clean of dust and the floor mopped and swept by scurrying peasants who dutifully ignored him. Sharn sat down on one of the musicians chairs satisfied that things were coming along. He didn’t really know how long it would take the Keybearer to arrive, but if the size of the mob that Korm had mentioned was any indication, there would be plenty of time for a proper greeting.
The door opened behind him and he glanced around. Sergeant Graethos bowed to him and came to stand at attention. Sharn gestured for the Sergeant to take a seat. With his mail coat jingling, Graethos sat down across from his King.
“If the rumor mill of this heap of rock hasn’t told you already, then I will enlighten you.” Sharn said, “We will soon be providing entertainment for the Keybearer.”
Sergeant Graethos nodded. It never ceased to amaze Sharn that nothing ever phased the man. “I have heard, Your Majesty. I have seen the group of peasants entering the city by way of the North Gate. I take it that you have something more than just a banquet in mind for the Keybearer then?”
Sharn smiled, “Now I know why I keep you around. You are exactly right. I wish to have the Emblem myself. Its powers could prove useful… If they are not mere superstition. I am inclined to think that there may be something to this, though. If not,” Sharn shrugged, “We at least remove an imposter or a fool.”
Sergeant Graethos raised an eyebrow, “Your Majesty? It will have to be subterfuge that eliminates the man. He will be surrounded by the over-awed constantly.”
“I am aware of this. I was thinking of some kind of slow acting poison that could be stealthily slipped into his drink.”
“Neptis.”
Sharn frowned, “I haven’t heard of Neptis before.”
“I would be very surprised if you had,” Graethos replied, “It isn’t really something that your father would have taught you about, Your Majesty. King Menran Torvil was not an ambitious man and sought peace with his neighbors, even when it wasn’t to Valorian’s benefit.”
“Don’t remind me,” Sharn grimaced distastefully.
“I know that you are impatient for your chance to really run the kingdom the way that it was intended. It won’t be that long before you are of age and will sit on the throne wielding all of your father’s inheritance.”
King Menran Sharn leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling, “I remember when I first heard that my father died. I was not saddened. I was ready to assume the crown right then and there. But this idiotic Regency Council,” Sharn spat, “is packed with father’s old cronies who are all just simpering windbags! Even Captain Lars Thanion, whom you would think would be eager to use the Champions Sword, mumbles words of temperance and diplomacy!”
Sergeant Graethos chuckled and then quickly held up a hand when Sharn turned to glare at him, “I too understand, Your Majesty. It is ever the child’s dream to take the reins of the horse from his father. In this case, you are ready to do so. The Regency Council merely plods along. They really are very much powerless and toothless. They are not the ones to whom the soldiers are oath bound to. You are, Your Majesty!”
Sharn subsided back in his chair. “I know, but the one thing that they do have control over is the treasury. I think that I will be able to convince them of the need for more soldiers once word spreads of Baolyn’s capture and illegal use of magic. I am surprised that you were so easily able to contain her.”
“She hardly put up a fight.”
“Well, that issue seems to be handled at this point. I will have to wait until after her judgment to move on recruiting more soldiers.”
Graethos nodded, thinking to himself that he would be the one in the not to distant future to command this new army. Not Captain Lars Thanion, but he said nothing to Sharn.
“You said you had a poison in mind? Neptis is what you called it?”
“Aye, Your Majesty. I can get my hands on some readily. In small doses it is useful as a febrifuge and the apothecary here in the castle has some. Since he is away, it will be a matter of moments to relieve him of some.”
“Won’t he notice it missing?”
The burly Sergeant shook his head, “No, he hasn’t had to use any for a very long time and he has quite a bit of it.”
Sharn looked at Sergeant Graethos carefully, “Just how is it that you know this? Not that I am complaining, mind you. But it does cause me to wonder.”
Graethos laughed, “Not long ago, I had cause to use the services of the apothecary when some of the men came down with a certain problem that plagues the nether regions, if you get my point. I took the opportunity to see if there was anything else in the healer’s bag while fetching medicine for him. Nothing all that mysterious, I am afraid.”
Sharn suspected that the Sergeant was lying, but Graethos had proved himself loyal and held his tongue. He would, after all, need a reliable new captain when Thanion retired or when Sharn reached his majority.
“Here is the tricky part. You will have to slip the poison into the Keybearer’s drink yourself. There isn’t anyone else to be trusted to do this. While I know that you have guards that would do this for you, it is best for the both of us if no one else is in on this. That would just mean more tongues that could wag.” Sharn explained.
“Consider it done, Your Majesty.” Sergeant Graethos smiled grimly. It would be putting young King Menran Sharn in his debt as well as under his influence.
“Good! Now go to it, there isn’t all that much time to accomplish this.”
Sergeant Graethos saluted and rose. “I will let you know when the poison is in the cup for the Keybearer, Your Majesty.”
Sharn also stood with a smile. He watched Graethos leave and then turned back to watch the deadly banquet being prepared for the doomed Keybearer.
