The hall was vibrating with anticipation, murmurs reaching a near roar before the second-in-command silenced everyone to announce the results of the first vote.
“The final tallies are as such: ten for me, eleven for Otto, and six for Emelia,” Jerald declared.
“Hmmph, if it weren’t for the king’s vote,” Toros murmured, then hesitated as though still counting in his head. “Otto would’ve had the same as Emelia.”
Otto had to agree, but he was speechless at this point. Was it his successful quest that had given him the other six votes from the order, or was it that they saw the qualities of his father in him?
In any case, not even Jerald had expected the king to cast his vote—let alone cast it for Otto.
I suppose I did help rescue two of his daughters. Does he think that he is paying me back? Or does he really think I have what it takes to lead? Do I even want to lead?
The risk the captain’s decisions put on his men was enormous, and that pressure had always weighed on Otto’s father. The attack on the Castle that had cost his father’s life had reminded many of the Paladins that even those inside the Castle were at risk from dark forces. It was their job not only to protect the far reaches of the kingdom on their quests, but to fight for Crystalia Castle should an enemy army come knocking at the gate. Being in charge of all of that would be a big responsibility.
There were murmurs throughout the room. Otto could already see teams forming—the one thing that the three-candidate system was supposed to prevent.
“Shut up, Toros,” laughed one of the older Paladins, commonly known as Iron Belly, who had voted first. “If I had known Otto was a likelier candidate than Emelia, I probably would have voted for him myself. After his quest to the Midnight Tower, it’s clear he’s his father’s son and this order needs all the new blood it can get!”
Otto didn’t think he deserved the shining reputation this quest had given him. After all, despite being involved in saving several of the kingdom’s beloved princesses, Otto had been unable to do the thing that mattered most: return Princess Amethyst. Without her, the prophecy of the Dark Consul’s eventual defeat would be impossible to fulfil. It had been during Otto’s quest that the princesses had learned the fate of their missing sister. Princess Amethyst, the beloved youngest daughter of the king, had switched allegiances to become the Dark Consul’s infamous Midnight Queen, the very same Midnight Queen who had killed Otto’s father and left the Paladins leaderless.
Otto knew his father had blamed himself in part for the Princess Amethyst’s disappearance a few years ago. By choosing who was sent on quests and who remained in the Castle, his father had been responsible for assisting the Castle guard in protecting the royal family. When Otto had learned on the quest that Princess Amethyst hadn’t been kidnapped but had defected to the Dark Consul on her own, the one silver lining he had been looking forward to was telling his father that he was blameless because Princess Amethyst had kidnapped herself. Otto had never gotten the chance.
“Here, here,” a few older Paladins called.
“That’s not the point!” Andrea called. “The monarchy should have no say in internal Paladin affairs.”
“You talk about the king like that at your own peril!” Jerald shouted, putting the room in silence.
Andrea flushed and raised her hands defensively. “I’m sorry, Jerald, I just thought—”
“Whether or not you agree with him, you will not talk about him that way!” Jerald grunted and calmed himself. “The votes have been cast and candidates have been chosen. I believe a recess is in order for us to ponder our next votes. We will meet here tomorrow to decide which candidate will be captain.”
More murmurs popped up around the room followed by the squeaking of chairs. Otto took a moment, baffled by the king’s decision to cast a vote for him. He wondered if asking him would be appropriate. It wouldn’t hurt to try.
Otto made to rise, but a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, forcing him back down into his seat. Startled, he looked up. Despite being the eldest Paladin, Emelia was still a massive woman, almost as big as Otto’s father had been. Her scraggly grey eyebrows furrowed down at him.
“You know . . . I always respected your father.”
Otto didn’t know what to say to this, so he just nodded. Emelia let go of him and lumbered off to the door. Laughter sounded behind him.
“Well, if that’s not a sign of respect from the old codger, I don’t know what is,” said a kind voice.
In all the drama, Otto hadn’t seen Willis during the meeting. As the Paladin who trained most of the new recruits, Willis sat much closer to the head of the table than Otto. But Willis had been the only other Paladin besides his father to give him the time of day when he had still been a trainee. Willis was a lean, blond man—same as Otto and his father—and Otto always expected him to be some distant relative. He never had the nerve to check.
Otto stood, gaping after the old veteran. “I don’t know what that was about.”
Willis grabbed his shoulder. “Your father once told me that Emelia never wanted to be a leader. She said she would step up if they needed her to, but she would’ve preferred not to.” His old trainer gestured to the door. “I think you made her relieved that she wouldn’t have to.”
Otto shook his head and followed him out of the chamber. “You think she thinks I should be leader? I’m hardly qualified. Emelia is the eldest—she would do a much better job. Who could take me seriously?”
Willis rolled his eyes. “After what you did? You took a quest none of us had the courage to take and succeeded when everyone else thought it was suicide.”
“So I’ve impressed her?”
“Not just her. After all, someone had to vote for you first. She wasn’t the first to get out of her chair, but if she had . . .” Willis motioned down the corridor behind them.
Otto looked over his shoulder to see Jerald leaving with his two lackeys, Andrea and Toros, tailing him. They clearly had to regroup.
“I don’t think he expected the king to get involved. It has a lot of us questioning his potential to be captain.”
Otto cocked an eyebrow. “Even you?”
“Oh, I was never in doubt.” Willis waggled his head. “But now that Emelia is on your side, who knows? A few of her supporters might come over to your side.”
Otto gritted his teeth, recalling what Toby had told him about the reason for the three-candidate system. If it came down to him and Jerald, it could very well split the Paladins in two, making it difficult to create order for whoever did become the leader.
“By the Goddess,” Otto cursed. “I thought my troubles would be over after we dethroned the Midnight Queen.”
“The troubles of the known can sometimes be more difficult than the troubles of the unknown.” Willis looked up as a clatter of footfalls sounded ahead of them. “Speaking of which . . .”
Otto looked up to see a Sister of Light in her blue habit running down the hall to meet them. Sister Claire’s hurried pace left her long, blonde braids flurrying out behind her. She stopped in front of them, placing her hands on her knees and panting as if she had just climbed a mountain.
“I was sent . . . as liaison from . . . the cloister priests . . . to find . . .”
“I leave her to you, my friend,” Willis whispered in Otto’s ear. He swiftly parted from them.
Otto blushed but turned his attention to Sister Claire. “Slow down. Catch your breath.” He smiled at her flustered state. “What do the priests want?”
Sister Claire composed herself and straightened. “They want to know who the three chosen candidates are for the new captain of the Paladins.”
“Oh, well that’s easy. They chose Jerald, Emelia . . . and me.”
Sister Claire gasped and covered her mouth, cheeks going even redder.
Otto was a little abashed himself. “Apparently, going on that mission to the Midnight Tower boosted my reputation among the order somewhat.”
“But you’re the youngest of your order!”
Otto nodded. “I know. I’ve only been a Paladin for a few years. Honestly, I don’t know what they’re thinking.”
Claire glanced down in thought. “As captain, you’d lead all the Paladins in the Castle, and you’ve shown by leading the Midnight Tower quest that you have a talent in that regard. Plus, everyone likes you. And you’ll also get to lead from the safety of the Castle, so . . .” She turned so he could no longer see her face and fixed her hair. “Well, as the captain, that means that you won’t have to go out on dangerous missions anymore. That you will be able to live comfortably unless called upon by the king himself.”
So that was why Claire had been blushing. After all, there had been something more to their relationship for a long time now. Otto had been suppressing his feelings for her so that he wouldn’t cause her heartbreak should he never return from a quest. But as the leader . . .
Otto nodded. “As the captain of the Paladins . . .” he said for her sake, “I might even settle down. Like my father did.”
His mind flurried at the idea, though he certainly wasn’t ready to give up going on quests. Is this what his father had wanted for him? After all, he had sent Otto on some of the order’s most dangerous missions. Maybe that was to hone him into a good leader. However, he felt he had never finished the last mission: that of saving the princesses. After all, Princess Amethyst—the Midnight Queen—was still technically missing.
With her back still to him, Sister Claire shook her head, as though not daring to hope.
“After going on such a dangerous journey, I was expecting to see you all bruised up on one of my cots. I was planning on getting your newest tale of lands unknown while I healed you.”
Otto usually enjoyed telling her about his adventures. She made an excellent audience. Though he was grateful for any reason not to talk about this latest quest, he had missed their usual conversation. With his father gone, she was one of the few people he could talk to.
“That would have been capital, but luckily I ran into a healer before I started home.”
Claire turned toward him sharply and puffed out her cheeks. “Oh? Well, now I’m jealous.” She began rolling up her sleeves. “Who is this person healing you without my permission. I ought to—”
“Princess Ruby,” he interrupted.
Her cheeks flushed. “Oh, well . . . I’m still not happy about it.”
Otto laughed. “I’ll have to find a time to tell you that story.”
She gave him a brilliant smile before her tone became businesslike again. “The priests want you to come to the cloister to talk to them. They want every candidate, but I found you first, so . . .”
“I’ll go at once.”
“I still expect to hear that story sometime, Sir Paladin.”
Otto nodded.
“I should go find the other candidates,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later?”
Otto nodded again, unable to find words, and continued down the corridor. As he descended the stairs, a thought repeated in his mind: But you’re the youngest of your order!
Even still, the king had cast his vote for him. Surely Otto’s heroic deeds on one quest shouldn’t determine the fate of his entire order. Just because his adventure turned out to be fruitful didn’t mean he could lead the Paladins to glory as well.
The king’s decisions were making less and less sense lately. First his decision to keep the truth about his daughter a secret, and now this? Otto needed to talk to the king after the meeting with the cloister priests.
In the high priest’s office, Otto sat alone across the table as he was lectured. The high priest of the cloisters, one of the greatest mystics in Crystalia, was an old, balding man with a well-lined, silver-bearded face. As Otto had expected, His Holiness had only wanted to make sure that whoever won the election would maintain a good working relationship with the Church of the Goddess.
“Only when there is a strong connection between her soldiers . . . and the clergy,” he labored, “has the order of the Paladins worked with the will of the Goddess. With the imminent threat brought about by the Dark Consul and his minions . . . a possible counterstroke from Glauerdoom Moor after taking the Midnight Tower . . . the grace of the Goddess may be all that will save our kingdom . . . and those within it. It is of the utmost importance . . . that you pray for her guidance during this difficult time.”
Otto frowned at this and wondered if the king had confessed the secret to the high priest, had revealed Princess Amethyst’s defection to the Dark Consul.
But he nodded along. “Yes, Your Holiness.”
Most of this went without saying, but he then wondered if a previous captain of the Paladin order had taken them down a different route and started worshiping the royalty. He noted to himself to ask Toby. If anyone would know, it was him.
But if I’m not telling the truth about Amethyst because of what the king told me, how am I any different from another politician?
“I have just one question,” Otto said. “The king has asked me to keep a secret, and my heart pulls when I know how important it would be for the Paladins and their fight.”
The high priest nodded. “These are strange times. But not all knowledge needs to be known by everyone. Trust in the king. He is wise and cunning, and his words have turned back the tides of darkness in the hearts of his people more times than I can count.”
Otto nodded and left the office.
After praying in the cloister for guidance as he had on many an occasion, Otto tried not to let the questions that plagued his mind make him impatient in his decisions. Now that he had been voted as a candidate, the issue of keeping the king’s secret almost seemed like an afterthought. No doubt Jerald would soon be having his own personal talk with the high priest. Considering that Emelia would probably refuse the station if she won, Otto doubted she would bother requesting an audience.
He had to talk to the king.
“May the Goddess watch over us.” He stood from his kneel and began to make his way toward the halls leading to the throne room.
It was nearly lunch by the time he reached the throne room hall where the king was speaking to his council. The seneschal had taken the lead at the meeting. As Otto waited for his moment to speak, he noticed how pale King Jasper was looking.
Normally, the king would eat constantly throughout meetings, but his eyes wandered as he looked out at the food, like such a sight made him sick to his stomach. He barely said anything as the seneschal’s voice boomed over those trying to interrupt him.
Princess Sapphire’s voice stood out. “You can’t expect us to take all that food into the Castle. What will seed next year’s crops?”
Her words were directed at the seneschal, who appeared to be smirking under the handkerchief that was raised to his face. Otto moved a little closer and saw that other princesses were also present.
“The king has decreed that this year’s harvest within a mile of the Castle should be brought into the granaries for storage,” the seneschal called. “After last year’s winter, we cannot risk the same wastage that occurred due to the peasants’ inability to store it correctly.”
“That’s not true!” Princess Citrine, the most brash of her sisters, stood from her chair and shouted. “If you’re saying that decades of bountiful harvest were due to royal intervention, then you clearly need to brush up on your history!”
Princess Sapphire stayed her with a hand, then more calmly asserted, “Their starvation was caused by locusts last year, not incompetence.”
“Maybe so, but how would locusts attack the crops when they are stored behind our walls, Princess?” said the seneschal.
Princess Emerald, who barely looked like she was paying attention, said, “Father, what do you say of this mad scheme?”
King Jasper stood himself, swayed a little, and said, “I think . . . I think . . .” He swayed again and shouted, “I think I’m going to be sick!”
With that, the king thundered out of the council hall, followed by the sounds of him loudly vomiting in a nearby vase.
The seneschal frowned in disgust and sighed. “It seems this meeting is adjourned for now.”
Princess Sapphire ran to help her father as the other nobles rose, grumbling about grains and harvests and crops—things Otto was sure they barely saw in their daily work. He went to follow Princess Sapphire to see if she could get a word with the king, but before he could make it to the corridor, he sensed a presence behind him. It made him stiffen, as though an enemy was nearby.
“May we talk?” an eerie low voice whispered behind him.
Otto turned, and now that the man was up close, he could smell the fishy stench covered by cloying perfume. He assumed something was ailing the seneschal, as he was constantly holding a handkerchief to his mouth, or worse, tying the frilly cloth around his neck or face and looking like some kind bandit. Otto could only imagine the pungent aroma resulted from some kind of wasting disorder.
“I . . . I was planning on talking to the king.”
“The king seems to be indisposed presently. However, all of his orders and reasonings get passed through me.”
Otto frowned. This was new. “I’d heard you can speak with the king’s voice when you deliver his messages, but when did you become the king’s ears too?”
“Believe me, everything I hear goes through the king’s ears.” He gestured for Otto to follow and began to walk from the hall. “Now, how might I be of service.”
Otto glanced back at Princess Sapphire caring for her father. He saw from the king’s pale face and his downcast, half-lidded eyes that he was not in the condition to talk, and he then followed the seneschal.
“I was wondering about the king’s choice to vote me in as a candidate for captain of the Paladin order,” Otto said as he caught up with the tall man’s wide, flowing gait.
The seneschal nodded. “Yes, well, I’m afraid the king has been sick with worry ever since you returned to the Castle with the news of Princess Amethyst.”
Otto nodded. The seneschal was one of the few people outside him and the royal family who knew of Princess Amethyst’s betrayal. “I can’t blame him after everything that’s happened.”
The seneschal shook his head. “The news of this has also caused a slight degree of paranoia. After all, one such as Princess Amethyst would know the innermost workings of the Castle and its politics. We can’t be sure that an enemy spy isn’t still relaying information to her—or to the king.” He motioned toward the main doors of the Castle. “Now, if you would please follow me. I would like to speak with you on a matter most urgent.”
Otto followed after the seneschal. If the king had voted for Otto because of intelligence from a spy of the Dark Consul, something terrible might be happening right under the Paladins’ noses. Whether he wanted to be leader or not, Otto was still sworn to protect the kingdom. He studied the seneschal for a hint of how serious the news was. For a second, he thought he saw the brief flicker of a smile wrinkle the old man’s eyes.
“Where are we going?” Otto asked.
“You said you were curious about the king’s decision to vote for your candidacy, did you not?”
Otto nodded.
“What if I were to tell you that the king’s paranoia may have borne fruit?”
“Are you saying that he acted on it?” Otto asked aghast. “That the king has enlisted the services of spies?”
“Oh, yes.” They passed through the door and descended the steps onto the pathway leading to the inner battlements. “And one of them returned to us with some startling news.”
Otto listened intently. He came closer so that others on the pathway wouldn’t hear and tried to ignore the smell wafting off the man in front of him.
“And?”
“One of the king’s spies, who was sent to check on the Paladins, told the king that he believes Jerald is working for the Dark Consul.”
Outrage and shock flooded Otto. Even though Jerald had never liked him due to his initiation at a young age, he never even considered the man would be working on the behalf of the Dark Consul. He had served his father faithfully for decades. It didn’t seem possible.
“No, Jerald?” Otto shook his head. “What proof did the spy have of this?”
The seneschal looked up, and, covering his mouth entirely, shouted a muffled, “Open the gate!”
The gate guards didn’t appear to hear him under his handkerchief, and the man coughed as though it had strained his vocal cords to shout that loudly.
“Open the gate!” Otto shouted.
At his booming command, the guard raced to haul down the large drawbridge.
“If what I have been told about Jerald is true,” the seneschal continued, “it will be of the utmost importance that you become the leader of the Paladins instead of him. We cannot risk having a captain of the Paladins who works for the Dark Consul.”
“You actually think he could be?” Otto saw his point, but frustration arose in him as he continued walking after the old man. “Wait, you didn’t answer my previous question. Where are you taking me?”
The seneschal proceeded through the gate onto the road leading down into Castletown. “The spy said his suspicions came when he followed Jerald out of the Castle gates and into town. He met with a suspicious Riftling bearing the mark of the Dark Consul.”
As Otto caught up with him again, the seneschal’s glance chilled him.
“We are going to the place where the spy spotted Jerald, Sir Paladin. You wanted proof, didn’t you? Then what better way to find it than to draw it out ourselves.”
“Where?”
The seneschal made his pace brisk as they strode down into the city. “Pickled Lane.”