The Boon of Alon

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

Over the course of the morning, I watch the prince ignore the skirmishes in the fields nearby and instead verbally trample his advisors in two different debriefings, belittle any number of soldiers in his vicinity as well as his personal guards, and backhand another servant boy.

"Was that really necessary?" I ask, helping the boy up. Chama said I'd know if I saw him do wrong, and I do, but if stepping in keeps me from seeing the worst of his actions? If he sends me off when I've only seen him be awful instead of abhorrent? It's not clear to me when exactly I should stop him, or what that'll cost.

"Of course," the prince says flippantly, waving a hand like he can shoo away my doubts. "Fear is the only true source of power. Would anyone listen to the riders if it weren't for your dragons?"

He moves on without waiting for an answer, which is just as well, because I don't think I have one. I knew the stories of riders as warriors, fighting with blade and fire, but I was never particularly afraid of them and I'm certainly not now. But if a rider had come along and told me I'd done wrong? Wouldn't I have been worried, at the least? I was a little afraid of Chama at the start, too.

But fear can't be the only reason anyone has power, can it? There's also faith. Money. Love, loyalty, morality. I don't think the members of the government of the Orene Republic were elected because the people feared them—at least, not all of them.

This does give me an interesting insight into the prince's thoughts, though. He reinforces his position by pushing down everyone around him. Today I've been the only exception, but I'm not the one he fears—it's my dragon. He's underestimating me.

"The prince thinks you're dangerous," I think to Iamon.

"I am," he says smugly.

"And he doesn't think I'm a threat at all."

Iamon's tone doesn't change. "His mistake."

Messengers make it up to the camp before lunch, bringing news of the king's demise with more detail than I had. I have to sit through another terrible meeting about it, during which the advisors all but beg the prince to return to the capitol to take the throne. Not a single one advises caution in returning to the place where his father was successfully assassinated—I'd like to think that they're secretly hoping he'll get killed too. But I pretty quickly realize they just don't dare question his ability to handle, well, anything. If they suggest anything less than crushing the rebellion, he doesn't listen.

And he wants to "finish things" here first. I don't get an honest sense of how the fight is actually going, though, until I reunite with Chama—and Kirt, unfortunately—for lunch.

"It's still a stalemate, but since the news came through everyone's fighting harder," Chama says. "Some of the soldiers are angry, but most of 'em are just terrified."

Figures. "The prince told me fear is the only source of power," I say glumly. "He's awful and he won't listen to anybody. I think if we wanted him to act like a decent human being we'd have to bully him into it."

"I told you," says Kirt.

Chama sighs. "What's he done today?"

"I didn't understand most of the war stuff," I admit. "We never got into this level of detail in the archive."

"Most of it doesn't get recorded," Chama says ruefully. "It's spoken, it happens, and if we're lucky someone writes down what they remember later. Makes it hard to teach."

Figures. "Besides that, he yelled at everyone and hit a kid. When I called him on that, he told me the thing about fear. Totally dismissed me."

"Hmm." Chama grimaces. "Bad, but we don't know how he'll act under pressure."