The Changing (9 page)

Handing over his reins to a stable boy, Garret slipped down from the giant white beast he rode and watched as all the others in the retinue also dismounted. Some headed directly to the palace gate to prepare for a meeting of all the councilors. Others rushed off in different directions, apparently having more pressing concerns than that of the kingdom. Garret took note of both groups. At this rate Garret thought he should be able to cull his list of possible candidates rather quickly, having just eliminated over half of them. Garret too felt he had other things that required his attention, but felt that an entire kingdom's well-being was far more important.

Garret turned his attention back to the palace and approached the gates. Here the palace guard stood in their ceremonial armor, polished to pristine perfection. Each of the guardsmen at the gate snapped to attention at Garret’s approach and saluted by banging their armored fists to their breastplates. Garret returned their salute half-heartedly and continued through the various narrowing courtyards to the palace itself. Upon entry an elderly woman pointed him in the direction his peers had gone, and thanking the woman graciously, Garret removed his helm and proceeded to what was once called the war room. Garret had never before heard mention of such a room, though its namesake was apparent. Following the corridor straight ahead as instructed, Garret could already hear the many voices before him rising in both conversation and argument. Knowing the next few days, if not weeks, would likely be unpleasant, Garret shoved the heavy wooden door ahead of him and strode into the room.

The war room was a sparsely decorated stone room with only a few tapestries clinging to the wall in fashions from before Garret’s time. The only furniture accompanying the tapestries was a great wooden table at the center of the room that could easily seat fifty people. Around the table at regular intervals were many identical chairs of the same dark wood that the table itself had been crafted from. Appraising all those in the room, Garret found that fewer had entered than he had previously imagined. Here in the room were collected only fifteen members of the king's council, himself included. Garret stood just inside the door for a moment, watching those conversations and arguments play out that had already begun in his absence. All the talking seemed to be about King Valdadore’s funeral arrangements, at least that is what Garret believed at first.

"We cannot delay for even a day Shimad!" Karishtala, the leader of the white-robed healers, was saying to a shorter balding man whom Garret did not recognize.

"First the King should be interred in the ground, and then we should discuss who shall rule!" the man Garret now knew as Shimad replied.

"I agree the king’s funeral should be held at once, but such preparations would not take long as there is nothing to prepare but his armor," Karishtala said with a hint of pain in her voice. "What good do we do King Valdadore if we delay choosing his successor and are attacked and lose his kingdom? We have to decide upon the future of our kingdom just as we must bury the past."

Seeing the conversation going nowhere quickly, Garret strode across the room coming to stand beside the smaller, balding Shimad.

"Pardon my interruption, but I could not help but overhear your conversation," Garret said.

"It is of no consequence, Lord Garret," Karishtala replied. "To what do we owe this honor?"

"It is my honor to stand at your side m'lady, just as it is my honor to speak to you as well Shimad," Garret replied in his most regal tone. Now that he could see Shimad better, he still could not place the man. Shimad was short and plump with a red nose and cheeks marking him as a man who enjoyed his wine. He was finely dressed in an elaborate robe and sash indicating he was a man of wealth, but his clothing went beyond what was tasteful to a point of gaudiness. The man liked to flaunt his wealth as well. Garret marked Shimad off his list.

"I am afraid we have not been properly introduced, Shimad. I am Garret, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance." Garret extended his hand to the man. Shimad took his hand lightly, and with a dainty, womanly shake he smiled awkwardly and bowed his head to Garret in supplication, allowing Garret to discover that his own position was of higher rank than this Shimad character’s.

"Would either of you mind if I lent my thoughts to your previous conversation?" Garret asked.

"Not at all, Lord Garret. Any counsel from a knight as high ranking as yourself is certainly welcome," Shimad replied.

Now Garret saw the drunkard’s ploy. He gave compliments and praise to befriend those of higher station. He used words and wealth to reach that which he was unable to obtain. This man expected to gain from the loss of key members on the council. Garret already disliked the man, but decided to speak anyhow.

"I fear that I must agree and disagree with both of you," Garret stated honestly. Garret paused a second to let his words sink in, not realizing that several conversations in the room had ceased and many eyes had turned upon him and the conversation he was having.

"I believe your words to be true, Shimad. We need to lay the king to rest and honor his memory as soon as we are able. But I also agree with Karishtala that we dare not wait to rebuild the council and place at its head an honorable ruler to lead us. The black army was defeated, but we share borders with many other kingdoms who might think to take advantage of our precarious state," Garret said.

"How do you propose we do both?" Karishtala asked. "Both are important and timely affairs."

"Yes they are, and until recently I lived a very simple life, having never even imagined standing where I stand this day. However, no matter my life before now, even I know that when you build something, or rebuild it for that matter, you start at the bottom. You must lay a solid foundation to build upon," Garret finished.

"Those are wise words beyond your years, Lord Garret," Shimad complimented.

"So you propose we start by filling the lowest positions first and work our way up to the throne?" Karishtala asked.

"If it were my decision, it is what I would do," Garret replied. "The sooner we begin to replace those we lost in the lower ranks, the smoother things will begin to operate, thus allowing us to turn our attention to those positions of more importance."

"A good plan," came a voice from across the room.

Garret recognized the man as one of the king's generals among the common army and nodded to him in greeting.

"How would you recommend we go about getting things rolling with so few of us here?" the man asked.

"Again I appreciate the honor of you listening to my suggestions," Garret said. He looked around the room to find that now all eyes were on him. "I suppose I would send out the royal messengers to gather up all those council members who are absent."

"Where do you think they have gone, Lord Garret?" the man questioned again.

"I am sure many of them had genuine immediate responsibilities, though I fear that some may be buying favor, bargaining for power, or exploiting whatever other means they might find to attain higher position,." Garret answered honestly.

"Very direct words from one so young," the old general replied, "though I too fear you are quite correct in your thinking. So what say you about such men?"

"I believe that each of them was chosen for this council because each brought a unique point of view to the king’s ear. I believe that each of them has the potential for good, though some would become corrupt with more power than they already hold," Garret answered.

"You are an honest man Lord Garret and for this I like you," the general replied with a wise grin. "So what do you suggest we do with such corruptible men? How should we handle their efforts for more power, their hunger and their greed?"

"I think it may be hard to ascertain their true motives. I think the only honorable thing we can do, to best serve the people of Valdadore, is leave such people in the positions they already hold, or transfer them to a position of equal power, but which is less crucial to the kingdom," Garret responded.

"We are but a third of the council," another man stated. Garret knew this man as well.

"Well met, Captain Felonus. How fare your archers?" Garret replied in greeting.

"We lost nearly half of my men," Felonus replied, his long blonde locks falling perceptively as he lowered his head slightly.

"I fear we have all lost much these past days. I also fear that you are correct, that with only those of us in the room we hold no majority with which to vote. However, I might also add that nearly twenty positions remain open. We could fill those lower positions with good, honorable, people-minded men and women, whom we all support. Once these gracious men and women are appointed, each given the honor to serve the kingdom, they might well be like-minded with the rest of us, and wish to heal the kingdom, not fill their own coffers. I would also suggest that though we are only a few of the many, those not among us will be struggling for their own ambitions, likely dividing them into smaller groups. Even with so few we may yet make a majority vote," Garret concluded. Applause broke out in the room from all corners, everyone having listened to and agreed with all of Garret’s words.

"Then what say you to our next step?" the old general questioned, his wiry eyebrows rising.

"I suggest we quickly make a list of those deserving of the lowest positions we have available, and send for the rest of the council so that we can get started building a better future for Valdadore," Garret answered. Met by applause once more, all those attending gathered around the far end of the great table and began to toss names into the hat for those to be raised from their current stations to one of power.

Garret had not been in service to the kingdom long enough to know the history of such people, but he did take interest in one particular debate.

"What of Dillon Storm? He is a good man," one member of the council stated.

"Doesn't he have five wives?" another asked.

"Yes and thirty-one children at last count," the first man confirmed.

"And you would suggest him for this position?" the second man argued.

"Indeed, as I have said he is a good man, and name another with more to lose than he?" the first man replied.

"I concede your point Sulvis, and more yet he has rescued four other men from marriage. A good man indeed!" the second man shouted in jest.

Garret found the playful argument very amusing and could not wait to speak to such a man who could handle five wives and thirty-one children. Such a man would be a useful tactician, or good perhaps on budgeting the treasury, maybe even a coordinator for the armies of Valdadore. Before long, however, Garret was roused from his musings as a list had been compiled of decent, upright men and women who loved the kingdom and would find honor in serving it. Garret looked to all of his peers around him and found his own respect for them mirrored in their eyes. They saw him as an equal. Garret, the son of an innkeeper, whose twin some accused of murder, who had managed to join the valiant Knights of Valdadore, and now found himself upon the royal council of Valdadore. Garret wished his father and Seth could see him at this moment. He knew they would each be very proud of him and Garret did not plan to let anyone down.

"Shall we send for the others then?" Garret asked.

"Indeed, let’s see if we can lay to waste all plans of greed and all aspirations to power," the old general Garret now knew as Sulvis replied with a smirk.

Messengers were sent to all corners of the city to fetch those who belonged to the council, as well as those that made their list and would be voted upon for election into the council. The  meeting was set for sundown, giving Garret a couple hours to attend to other affairs, though he did not look forward to his next responsibility.

* * * * *

Borrik led his men through the immense forest at a gut-wrenching pace. The feline girls that led them some distance ahead never once came into sight and Borrik feared he had greatly underestimated their ability for speed. He picked up the girls' scent occasionally, though each time it was weaker than the time previous. The pair of girls were pulling farther ahead the longer the day progressed. The forest was much the same as Borrik remembered from a week ago when the king’s retinue had passed on its way to war. Though they followed no road, the game trails here within the forest were worn well enough to grant them fairly easy passage even in the limited light that filtered down through the canopy above. Several times on their hasty trek eastward Borrik caught scents of other things familiar to him. Twice on their run through the forest he had come upon the scent of goblins, and though faint, he could not help but to send a subliminal message to his pack to keep their eyes open for any stray raiding parties they might have missed the week prior. Several of his pack had noticed the scents as well, and were already on the lookout. But what had puzzled Borrik most was another scent he had noticed once while passing through a small clearing within the vast forest. They were quite a long distance now from the city of Raven's Hold, yet here deep in the forest Borrik had caught the scent of a human male. It was possible that there were those brave enough to venture this far into the forest to hunt the large deer or other game that thrived beneath the enormous trees. However, generally when hunting this deep in a forest, men would hunt in groups for at night, when the predators were active, there was safety in numbers. Borrik could not help but to ponder what might bring a single man this far into the woods, and sifting through the possibilities he ran through the forest mostly on blind instinct as if his body were finding the safest trail and footfalls, while his brain worked out more peculiar things. Thus it was, when realizing his mistake, Borrik heard both the snap of a twig and the sound of metal armor clanking as he rushed headlong into the very enemy he had warned his troops to look out for.

Borrik smashed directly into a goblin soldier, sending the small green creature cart-wheeling head over feet through the trees. Digging his clawed toes into the soft soil beneath him, Borrik literally slid to a stop, crouching as he slowed, preparing himself to lunge. As he decelerated, and details of his surroundings became clearer, he realized he had rushed headlong into the center of a goblin party, and hearing his collision with their brethren, goblins closed in on him from all sides. Surrounded, Borrik used the collective conscious of the pack to summon his troops to his aid.