Constitution's Promise
Prologue to Chaos, Chapter 5, Scene 1
The Storm Breaks, Scene 1
“I’m going to need a nice, stiff brandy when this is over,” Lord Rugon said.
He stood before the balcony doors of the palace conference room. The view overlooked the shoulder of Mount Cascade and the bluffs on the north side of the valley. Rapids fell along the sheer rock-face and into pools that fed the city’s aqueducts. Their waters ran from them in elaborate channels and arcades, racing like rapids to feed the palace and city below.
“I think I’ll join you in that drink,” Danor offered. He looked out at the morning sunlight shining on the mountain and the falls, and put a hand on the lord’s shoulder. “If you don’t mind the company.”
Lord Rugon turned to look at him. “I will always be honored to drink with you, my liege,” he said quietly.
“I’m glad, Cyrus,” Danor replied. There was a hint of gratitude in his voice.
Lord Rugon smiled weakly and nodded. He had instructed the King as a boy in the art of proper conduct at court, and he understood the gesture and its meaning.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said. “This has been trying for us all. I regret that we have so often been on opposite sides of this debate.”
“As do I, my old friend,” the King agreed. “I will not forget your loyalty despite our disagreements. And I will need your help and your wise counsel now more than ever.”
The pair lapsed into a reflective silence. The conflict arising from Lord Zomoran’s attack on the Church six months earlier was still fresh in their minds. The debate and recriminations that followed had polarized the kingdom and lead to the morning’s events.
Salmanor Hardin had declared that the attack vindicated his accusations against the Lord of Westreach. Danor rejected that claim, and his harsh rebuke of the Inquisition stunned the Church and its supporters. A division quickly appeared among the people as they took sides in the conflict.
Few defended Zomoran, but many supported the growing reform movement. The Archmage himself began those reforms when he sat on the throne, and his son Danor was determined to continue his work. Others defended the Inquisition, saying that its sometimes harsh prosecutions were necessary to defend the kingdom from evil. Opposing factions developing for years beneath the surface of Carlissan society were forced suddenly out into the open.
Lord Rugon’s eyes moved across the room to settle on Aron. The elder prince was talking earnestly with several of the other council members. His powerful voice resonated confidently across the chamber. The King turned to follow the lord’s gaze, and a proud smile touched his lips.
It was Aron who had tipped the scales in favor of the King and his supporters. The story of how he and Gerard fought the magus and his dragon spread through the city like wildfire, and the two princes became instant heroes. Princess Randia even composed a popular ballad extolling their exploits. Already widely admired, the elder prince’s role in facing down the Lord of Westreach gave him great credibility with both sides. And he argued his case with notorious passion and eloquence.
Many on the High Council were already angry at the Inquisition’s ruthlessness in prosecuting one of their own. Aron’s speech secured their support and fractured Hardin’s within the Church. The controversy compromised the moral high ground the high priest expected to claim, helping the Crown to finally press its case for reform.
“Most will see things as I do, Your Highness,” Lord Rugon said carefully, ending the long pause in their conversation. His eyes moved to where Baronet Kuhl and Lady Rayne stood at the far end of the room. Salmanor Hardin stood apart from them in a corner, talking with one of the serving maids. “A few will not. You will need to be watchful.”
The King followed his gaze. Kuhl and Rayne were whispering quietly together. That wasn’t cause for concern in itself, but it wasn’t a good sign, either.
Danor’s eyes moved to the high priest. He couldn’t hear what Hardin was saying to the girl, but she appeared raptly attentive to his words. She was strikingly attractive, with an air of young innocence that made her seem strangely sensual at the same time. She must be new to the palace staff, he thought, and made a mental note to ask the steward to speak to her. Hardin’s motives might be a trifle less spiritual than the young ingénue expected, and she was just his type.
“Kuhl and Hardin have been thorns in my side nearly every step of the way,” the King agreed. “But do you think their opposition might extend to disloyalty?”
Lord Rugon sniffed. “The high priest’s loyalties are to the Church, not to the Crown,” he said. “And Kuhl’s are to his next opportunity to acquire wealth and power. This new constitution strikes at the heart of their sources of prestige and influence. Repealing the blasphemy laws will encourage some to defy Church doctrine, and ending the royal monopolies will hurt the Trade Guild. Whatever their merits, these changes will earn you enemies that you did not have before.”
Danor sighed and turned toward the balcony. He looked out again at the sunlit morning on the mountainside with an air of resignation.
“Then I will have to be prepared for that …” he began.
His voice trailed off. A shadow had fallen across the cliff-wall outside the window. It looked like the silhouette of great wings wheeling above the palace, cast on the mountainside by the morning sun.
Lord Rugon smiled. “Perhaps your daughter is out flying with her pegasus again today,” he offered.
The King shook his head.
“I know what pegasus wings look like. That’s something else.”
Another shadow fell across the bluff, and then another, and another …
And then the sound of a horn from the palace battlement pierced the air.
Next: Chapter 4, Scene 2 - The Marketplace
