Chapter 51

One by one, Sybelien regarded the people gathered in the study and when her gaze finally returned to the old king in front of her, the blue of her eyes had lost all warmth.

“I know, this must look to you like a conspiracy or even an assault,” King Dharos acknowledged. “But I ask you to listen before you condemn us. We have concerns but hopes as well. Please, let’s all sit down and talk with each other.”

Sybelien followed the king to the large oval table in the study but she didn’t take the chair he offered to her at the head. Instead, she sat down on a chair at the table long side.

“What’s in the bundle?” Agon asked, guiding his sister to a seat at the table as well.

“Nothing,” Anjatta answered.

“That’s a lot of nothing,” he stated, arching his brow. “And the way you cradle it, this nothing has to be very dear to you.”

“It’s a secret,” she answered. “A secret I’ll only share with my Queen but not with her overbearing father.”

“Now you’re scaring me.”

“That was my intention and if you continue questioning me, I’ll scare you even more.”

“That’s the mean little sister I remember,” Agon appraised. “I’m glad you’re feeling better again.”

Evanis sat down at the table and watched her mother and sister taking the chairs by her sides.

“Yes, we are supposed to keep an eye on you,” Anseyla answered Evanis’ suspicious gaze. “Even your clever disguise couldn’t delude us; we know you are a dangerous, wild beast.”

“I’d also like to know why you are wearing a monk’s habit?” Inandrey pointedly asked.

“For the same reason you wear clothes,” Evanis replied. “I would be naked otherwise.”

“Don’t take that tone with me, young lady, I’m still your mother,” Inandrey admonished.

“I guess that’s why you were chosen to fence me in,” Evanis dryly remarked.

The place at the head of the table was still vacant when everyone was seated and King Dharos took the floor again.

“First off, I want to summarize the current situation. The so-called Alliance of the Faithful is defeated. General Vassun is dead and The Forsaken Army almost totally annihilated. The survivors of the Danubian army were released to return to their homeland. King Aerathon of Danuba was severely injured during the battle. He’s a guarded captive but resides in the custody of our healers. After the Lords of Barthobar capitulated to the Queen of Ibanee, their army was released and is returning home. The Lords are housed here in the Citadel, awaiting the peace negotiations. All we know for certain about the Alorian priesthood is that they fled Katerra. I hope our new arrivals can tell us more about the current situation of the priesthood and their leaders,” the king paused his summary and expectantly looked at Sybelien.

“They are dead,” Evanis answered instead of Sybelien. “The High Priest, the Untars, their priests and priestesses, the bloody Bhansun - no one survived. They are all dead.”

Everyone stared at the warrioress.

“How?” Warlord Dabas’Lohross asked. “You rode alone; your army of the dead ceased to exist after the battle.”

“The patch-men had done their duty and I released them,” she confirmed. “If I need a new army, I’ll find others who’ll follow me.”

“Then how did you kill fifteen hundred priests who fled from Katerra?” The warlord asked.

“It wasn’t me who killed them,” Evanis answered. “I only found their scattered corpses as I rode to Clagesh Abbey.”

The heads were turning toward Sybelien again.

“I only killed the High Priest and the priesthood Untars at the monastery,” she said and shrugged. “Maybe two dozen Bhansun as well but that’s all.”

Sybelien’s revelation earned her some very disturbed looks but before anyone could comment on it, Anjatta spoke and diverted the attention.

“A dragon killed the fleeing priests.”

“A what?” Jorsha Sammon gasped. “That’s a joke, isn’t it?”

“My whisperers ... they told me about a rumor,” the Lady Onessa stammered. “A merchant and some huntsman claimed they’ve seen a dragon in the woodlands northwest of Katerra. Of course, I thought... , “ she trailed off.

Agon stared at his sister. “Where did the dragon come from and where did he go?”

“According to a legend, Clagesh Abbey was built on the remains of the last dragon,” Anjatta answered. “The dragon was allegedly slain by the Alorian god Injaramosh but this legend is untrue. There never was a dragon until yesterday when Jabbit called one. This dragon killed the priesthood and afterward, Evanis killed the dragon.”

“It was a dragoness,” the warrioress corrected, causing some whiplash among the audience.

“A dragon killed the Alorian priesthood and afterward you killed the dragon?” Thar’Haghanosh inquired, almost calmly.

“No, I killed the dragoness who killed the priests,” Evanis insisted. “Of course, I didn’t kill her because she flambéed the priests; I killed her because she attacked me, too.”

“That’s why you wear this habit!” Inandrey deduced. “A dragon attacked and burned you. A dragon Jabbit created!”

“The dragoness only burned my armor,” Evanis remarked with insouciance. “I’m too juicy to burn and...”

Anseyla’s coughing interrupted her sister. “Very juicy indeed, even outright wet at times,” she muttered as she caught her breath.

“ ... Jabbit didn’t mind I killed his dragoness, so there is no reason to hold a grudge against him,” Evanis finished.

“Thank you for the information,” King Dharos said, reclaiming the attention. “Let me finish my summary. The High Priest is dead and the Alorian priesthood largely extinguished. This means the war is over and we need to talk about the future. You are the future, Sybelien, and everyone here supports your ascendance to the Alorian throne. We have great hopes for this future but we also have great fears. Please, let me tell you about my hopes and fears,” the old king pleaded.

“I’m still here and I’m listening,” Sybelien calmly replied.

“Yes, let’s hear what you have to say, old man,” Evanis agreed. “If I don’t like what I hear, I’ll teach you what I know about crushing a rebellion.”

“Eva!” Her mother chided. “That was totally uncalled for.”

“This isn’t a rebellion,” Agon hastened to placate.

“Do you worry we want to poach on your territory?” Anseyla asked, smirking.

“Princess Sybelien is the legitimate sovereign of Aloria and none of us will fight it,” the Warlord of the Silent Hand declared. “We are merely offering support. It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t want or need our help, she’ll still be our Empress.”

“Let’s calm down,” the Lady Onessa intervened. “We only want to talk. No one shall be coerced into doing something against their will.” Then she faced Sybelien. “Except King Dharos, none of us have ever ruled a country. We would like to suggest you enlist a board of advisers you trust to help you rule Katerra and hopefully a new Alorian Empire.”

“A board of advisers?” Sybelien reflected. “Something like the Midnight Council, I assume - something very much like the Midnight Council.”

“Sybil, we’re not your enemies,” Inandrey said. “You should know and remember that.”

“Yes, I know,” Sybelien replied. “It seems that you’ve forgotten I never wanted to become Aloria’s Empress. If the Midnight Council wants to rule, I’m more than happy to let you rule.”

“No!” King Dharos objected. “Neither the Midnight Council nor I want to usurp your role. You are the lawful Empress and the future of Aloria. We want to help you rule; we don’t want to rule instead of you.”

“That’s less than I hoped you’d do but, of course, I gladly accept all the help you offer,” Sybelien replied. “If that’s all you wanted to tell me, why did you plot to talk to me behind Jabbit’s back?”

“Jabbit could take part in your council of advisors,” the Lady Onessa suggested. “Although it would be better if his priestess, Princess Rhaseris, would act in his stead.”

“Why would the boss want to become an adviser?” Sybelien asked, surprised.

Anseyla shook her head and sighed.

Jorsha Sammon spoke up. “I know your loyalty, Sybil, but Jabbit is not the ruler of Aloria – you are its Empress.”

“The Alorian priesthood has been extinguished,” King Dharos rejoined the discussion. “I hated them with every fiber of my being and will be the last to bemoan their death but there was a reason I never attacked them myself. For thousands of years, the Alorians have believed in their gods. The Alorian priesthood might be dead but the Alorian religion is still alive. The Faceless God and the Nameless Son are a part of this religion. They represent evil. If you ascend the throne of the Empire and announce your affiliation to the Nameless Son, you will also represent evil.”

Sybelien looked King Dharos straight in the eyes. “The only reason I will sit on the Alorian throne is that the boss asked me to do so. If you believe I care whatever you, the members of the Midnight Council, the population or the Alorian gods think about it, you are mistaken. I don’t care one bit.”

“There will be a civil war in no time at all,” the Warlord of the Strong Arm predicted.

Evanis shrugged. “As I said, I know how to crush a rebellion.”

“Eva!” Anseyla groaned and her mother chided.

“Stop!” Anjatta shouted. “You are wrong, Sybelien is right, Anseyla should know better, and I’m tired of this discussion. If you want to advise Sybelien on ruling Aloria, you first have to realize something important yourself. The war is not over.”

“What do you mean, ‘the war is not over‘?” Thar’Haghanosh asked. “All our enemies are defeated.”

“You didn’t start this war and you don’t decide when this war has ended,” Anjatta answered and then turned to her brother. “Why are you here, Agon? Didn’t you learn anything?”

“I am here because I agree with the people at this table,” he answered. “Crows, risen dead, plagues, and now even a dragon - I don’t want an Empire founded on evil.”

“Tell me, what do you think will happen when you return with your family to Ibanee?” Anjatta asked.

“What do you mean?” Agon asked.

“Will Nahseyra, the Queen of Ibanee, rule her kingdom? Will she even still be the queen?”

“No,” Agon answered, hanging his head. “Our Uncle, Hassunabi, will have restored his position during our absence and he will be the King of Ibanee once again ... as he should be.”

“And that’s the reason the war is not over. Just like I did, you all believe you can cheat a god and just like me you will realize that you are wrong,” Anjatta declared and then stared at her brother. “Either Nahseyra will rule as the Queen of Ibanee, or Jabbit will wipe our homeland from the face of the world.”

“So you propose we obey Jabbit’s every whim and do whatever he wants us to do?” Jorsha Sammon asked, his balled fists on the table.

Evanis snorted. “As if Jabbit ever would need you to do something for him.”

“Eva!”

“So you view our attempt of distancing the Alorian Empress from the Nameless Son and what he means to the Alorian religion as dangerous because you predict he’ll retaliate?” King Dharos calmly asked.

“I view this attempt as dangerous, deceitful, hypocritical and most of all totally futile,” Anjatta answered just as calm. “I also suggest you stop calling him the Nameless Son. He has chosen a name. That name is Jabbit and no one else in this world has the power to decide who he is or who he will become.”