"Of course, he would deny it!" Grantook's deep, raspy voice shook the chamber, rattling portraits in their frames and causing the roughly three dozen advisors in attendance to jump. Passing two unnerved guards who stiffened when they saw him, Keko entered the door to the grand hall. "Petition him again!" his father bellowed. "That moat is our best hope of staving off annihilation. Petition him again, I tell you!"
The messenger bowed even lower. "We already have, chief, four times. His Ascendency forbids you from diverting the Ama, even for a short time." The messenger paused, realizing the weight of his next words. "Even if it means the end of Tia, Great Chief. The river is the only source of fresh water for hundreds of leagues. Diverting it would cause drought. It would cripple grain production. Famine would follow. Millions of people would starve to death long before the flames even began to move south."
As the slim man in an imperial blue ranger outfit stopped groveling but continued to fidget with his belt, Keko wondered whether beheading an imperial messenger would be grounds for war, but then again, his father's patience for all things Ascendent-related had grown considerably thin as of late. Given his confession in the garden, it wouldn't surprise him if war with the Ascendent lines was his intended goal. Wanting no part in the discussion, Keko began scanning the room. His eyes settled on Kara and Zander seated quietly in a nearby corner. He walked over as silently as he could.
"You must find other means, Chief."
Grantook grumbled before waving the useless man off. The messenger feigned a rather pathetic bow, then moved hastily towards the exit. Looking to his advisors and finding only blank faces, Grantook stared holes into the messenger back as he passed beneath the archway. Wiping the sneer from his face, he sat up and stopped grinding his teeth. "I should have done this years ago."
Alaric sat with his elbows on his knees, both hands cupped around his mouth in what he hoped resembled a look of deep contemplation. He wore his hair down today. With any luck, his long brown locks dangled about his head and concealed his red-rimmed eyes. Training new recruits in sword work wasn't new. He had personally trained thousands in his day, but he wasn't a young man anymore. Pushing his charges in the arena was taking a toll on his body as well as his mind. He hadn't been sleeping, spending the off hours trying to come up with ways to condense years of sword training into a few short weeks. Gods, he was tired. As His Ascendency's messenger finally stopped groveling and left, Alaric met Grantook's eyes, both nodding to one another. He had known Grantook since they were boys. They'd fought in many battles together over the years.
Over the decades they learned how to speak to each other's intent without the cumbersome use of words. A useful trick when launching raids on enemy encampments where victory hinged on silence and the element of surprise. Right now, he suspected Grantook was wondering whether or not he should defy the king and divert the Ama anyway. Whatever wrath he incurred would be bad enough, sure, but that relied heavily on the fact that they would need to survive to incur it.
Despite his boisterous demeanor and the rumors that the king had somehow been behind his wife's murder, Alaric knew the man wouldn't risk starving millions even if it saved his people. Would he? Alaric's muscles groaned as he sat straighter, begging him to rest.
Settling his eyes on the gathering of advisors, one thing became immediately clear. His chief needed better advisors. He needed alternatives, and aside from possibly Master Vicam, the assembled cast of old men and sniveling sons of high-ranking merchants were a completely useless lot.
YOU ARE READING
THE LIGHT OF A'LEST
FantasiFOR MILLENNIA SHE HAS STOOD A SILENT VIGIL. HER POWER UNQUESTIONABLE. HER SHIELD LIGHT IMPENETRABLE. GAIA is a land rife with magic, mysticism, and the treachery of warring factions. But the stakes are raised when the guardian is destroyed, and dark...