King Andrew gripped Valam’s left wrist as his face showed his anger. The king’s grip, surprisingly firm for a man of his years, might have crushed the bones in a lesser man’s arm, but Valam barely noticed. “How long will it take Jarom and the others to make the journey to Imtal?”
“It is King Jarom, and it will take at least another full month,” snapped the chancellor.
Valam broke free of his father’s grip, jumped from his seat and lunged across the table. Even Seth seemed surprised at the speed with which Valam crossed the eight foot stretch of oak. Valam’s fist knocked the chancellor to the floor, and as the man fell Valam followed him to the ground. Unlike the chancellor, who didn’t move after hitting the floor, Valam landed on his feet.
His fist poised to strike, Valam whirled around to face the remainder of the delegation from the Minor Kingdoms. “The next insult brings death, make no mistake, you will die by my hand.”
Captain Brodst dragged the chancellor by the scruff of the collar out the door, telling the guards to shackle him and throw him into the courtyard. King Andrew almost reflexively said something, yet did not. A faint smile did touch the corners of his lips.
The other delegates babbled apologies. The head delegate from Yug was the first to speak above the others, “I am sorry, that is the word also from King Alexas.” Valam cast angry eyes at the speaker. The man quickly modified his statement saying, “I mean, Your Majesty, King Alexas wishes a gathering to discuss the matter at hand.”
“How long?”
Another delegate from Vostok moved into Chancellor de Vit’s vacated place near King Andrew’s high-backed audience chair and spoke, “I am afraid, Your Majesty, that we will require at least a month to make preparations. King Jarom wishes all the kings to make the journey together.”
“A month?” said Valam angrily, “And you bow to Jarom like dogs?”
The man sank down in his chair, swallowed a lump that had just welled up in his throat. “That is what I was informed, Prince Valam, Your Royal Highness. I only relay the word. Do not judge the messenger by the words.”
This is a counter, they know of your plan to journey to the south, imparted Seth to Valam.
How? thought Valam to himself, using the learned technique which allowed Seth to reach into his mind. We only recently made those plans.
Valam eyed the delegate from Vostok. It was clear now that Chancellor de Vit had been but the messenger and this man speaking now held the strings. The purple silk of the robe and the gold embroidery from his triangular hat to the tips of his curly toed boots spoke of the delegate’s wealth and standing in the southern kingdom. The delegate was obviously of noble blood and perhaps even a royal cousin of Jarom.
They’re planning something…
What? thought Valam.
Valam pointed a steady finger at the delegate, said coolly, “Action is required and requested, a month to prepare is not acceptable.”
The audience chamber was still and silent. All eyes were fixed on Valam.
I see a city… A large city… A square with armed men…
An attack? thought Valam.
I’m not sure but I do know they don’t want Kingdomers in the… Seth’s thoughts trailed off. This one, this man. He’s the one, the one who saw to the murders of your envoys. I see it in his thoughts…
Valam turned to face his father. “With your permission, sire?”
King Andrew nodded his head.
“Captain,” charged Valam as he exited. “Kill the next man who dares insult any Kingdomer or elf.”
He patted the captain knowingly on the shoulder. In a way it was an apology that he granted. In all the excitement and preparations, no one had enlightened the poor captain and now it really did seem that the whole of the kingdom had forgotten his deed. The celebrations had been cancelled and Imtal Proper was in turmoil. Valam lingered a moment, delving beneath the sullen eyes that stared back at him.
“Gladly, Prince Valam, gladly,” said the captain as if to end the thing that passed between them unspoken.