Chapter 27-Time to Decide
Esben stood in front of the mirror in his room, tugging at his huge, thick, winter ceremonial cloak. He heard Artham come in behind him.
“Good morning, Esben. How did you sleep last night?” Esben, still trying to wrestle the heavy, cloth to hang properly over his shoulders, shrugged, the simple motion causing his unclasped cloak to twist strangely over his shoulders.
“I slept pretty well for a couple of hours,” He continued when he got no response from his brother. “That emergency council was shorter than the other two we’ve had. Probably because it was just a repeat of last time. And the time before,” He said with a bitter tone. “I’m so tired of all this.” There was silence for a while.
“How’s your hand?” Artham asked in concern. Esben glanced around in slight surprise. Artham sounded absolutely exhausted. When Esben turned around to look at him, Artham was drinking more bean brew, tipping back to finish the cup. He set it down on Esben’s desk with a grimace.
“I’m starting to hate that stuff,” he muttered. He looked over at his brother again. “How’s the hand?” He repeated, rubbing at the shadows under his eyes with a yawn.
He didn’t sleep at all last night, Esben thought with an annoyed sigh. By the looks of it he couldn’t sleep and so stayed up all night yelling at himself for what happened.
“It aches, but it’s not bad,” Esben said with a resigned tone, flexing his hand experimentally.
“Anything you need before we head out for today’s conference?” Artham asked.
“Yeah, breakfast,” Esben muttered under his breath, tugging at the clasp of his cloak and glancing longingly in the direction of the dining room.
“No thanks,” he said out loud.
“Alright. See you then,” Artham said, and the room was silent for a while. Esben looked in the mirror again, deciding to wait to put on his crown as long as possible.
He glanced down in frustration, thinking about the day’s conference. Another day of putting up with Myndik’s taunts and accusations and opposition, striving seemingly uselessly for something he believed both countries desperately needed. Anniera would be wondering by now why they hadn’t gotten the official celebratory announcement of the renewed alliance. And Nibbik would be there again, ready to rub it in and openly challenge and insult the brothers in a way the Keeper wouldn’t dare to do.
With the weight of a country on his sixteen year old shoulders, he would have to wade into all of that again, every second trying to weigh whether to ignore the taunts or counter them, weighing defending himself and his country against seeming like the helpless child that to be honest he really felt like sometimes.
Day after day after day and nothing done. All of that effort, useless. On top of all that, someone had tried to kill them the day before, just because he was the king. Now he had to go tell that to a council that was already convinced that he was too weak to be allied with.
“I hate this!” He finally shouted, whirling around and throwing the cloak as hard as he could in a crumpled heap on his desk. “I hate it!” He shouted again, slamming his hands down with a bang, feeling the weight of everything pressing so hard down against him that he thought if it kept going much longer he would break under its heaviness. He closed his eyes and clenched his
Maker, why? Why did You make me king? Why do I have to deal with all of this alone? He cried out silently, hating the weight of everything that was resting on him. A few seconds passed as he stood there, his shoulders heaving with his ragged breaths.
“Through your trials, I am shaping you to be a king in my image.” Esben glanced up in surprise at the voice. It whispered in his mind, leaving an incredible feeling of wonder. His heart thrilled at the love and peace that surrounded the voice, and it seemed to push away the burden of everything else.
“You will never be alone, my son,” the voice whispered again. Esben’s heart beat faster and a warm wave of wonder spread throughout him, calming the frustration and fear inside of his heart.
“Maker?” He whispered quietly in wonder. He had heard the voice before, more often since he had become king, but it had never yet been so close and quiet and powerful and amazing and loving.
The surety in his heart told him that was who it was.
“I will always be with you.” The voice filled up Esben’s heart and mind until there was no room for anything else. Then there was silence. He stood there for a moment longer, filled with peace and trust that he tried with everything in him to hold on to, because he was afraid it wouldn’t last. When the last echoes of the words of assurance faded away, he thought of them over and over and over, each time filled with the wonder of the Maker’s presence that he had felt.
He didn’t know how much time passed, but when he heard Artham’s footsteps in the hall, the amazed thrill and excitement that he felt hadn’t diminished, but merely changed to a steady thrum of peace and assurance that sounded through him like music.
“Thank You,” he whispered, still in awe when Artham opened the door.
“Ready for breakfast, Es?” Artham asked, half-entering his brother’s room. He looked in slight surprise at the crumpled cloak thrust against the desk and at Esben’s face, smiling with a look of peace and happiness that Artham hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” Esben said, grabbing the cloak off his desk before ducking under Artham and out his door, already headed toward the smell of food.
“Hey,” Artham exclaimed, laughing as he grabbed Esben’s shoulder, surprised but grateful that his brother seemed so happy. It lessened some of the heaviness in his own heart, and his face reflected his little brother’s smile. “Need some help with this?” He asked, taking Esben’s crumpled cloak. Esben sighed, still smiling.
“Unfortunately, as always,” he said, fidgeting and trying to start walking toward breakfast as Artham tried to pull the clumsily thing over his shoulders. Then another thought occurred to Esben, and again he was grateful.
You’re always with me, and still You’ve given me my brother. I’m not alone.
*
Only about a hour later, their carriage stopped in front of the Keep. Esben stepped out into the cold winter sun, Artham following. Aro stepped up behind them, pausing a moment to rub Connolin’s ears with a smile. Connolin wagged his tail but quickly turned and trotted by Artham’s side.
“Good morning, Aro,” Artham said, smiling when the boy answered his greeting cheerfully, adjusting his satchel with a look of extreme dutifulness and importance that didn’t fit his small, skinny frame. Artham glanced up at the Keep, furrowing his brows in concern, letting out a sigh.
“Do you think they’ll ever let the alliance be renewed, Artham?” Aro asked, his face reflecting Artham’s expression.
“I don’t know, Aro. I certainly hope so.” Artham answered. Aro nodded seriously, alternating between almost running with short, quick steps, and trying to take longer strides to keep up with Artham. Esben, however, didn’t hear them.
Maker help us, He thought, noticing anxiously as he approached the wide doors of the Keep that every single chief was already there, and Myndik was talking at full speed to all of them. Not only was it rather uncomfortable to arrive on time and realize that ‘on time’ was actually late, but Myndik had had the chance to talk to the other Chiefs for who knows how long, trying to sway them against Artham and Esben. You will never be alone, my son. Esben repeated the memory over and over. As if he could read his mind, Artham reached over and squeezed Esben’s shoulder reassuringly. They entered the Keep, taking their seats in the midst of an uncomfortable silence, and Aro took his place behind Artham.
“Thank ye so much, Your Highness, for finally deciding to grace us with your presence,” Myndik drawled in his sarcastic voice as the other Annieran members of the council took their seats.
“We apologize for not arriving sooner, Keeper,” Esben said sincerely, “but we didn’t realize everyone had decided to arrive before us.”
Myndik grunted with a curt nod, then turned so that he was speaking both to the council and to the brothers.
“The Chiefs of the Green Hollows have remained undecided,” Myndik said, somehow sounding both amused and scornful, “As to whether or not the weak alliance between our countries shall be renewed. Your Highness, is there anything that needs to be said to the Chiefs before we begin this useless debate again?” Myndik asked, making the ‘useless debate’ sound like something detrimental to everyone in the Keep.
Esben glanced over at Artham and Artham nodded. He stood up, and Esben was relieved that he didn’t have to be the one to explain this time.
“Last night we were on our way alone to Oak Hill and the High King and I were attacked again by three Wanderers of the Woes. No one else was hurt or attacked, and no one else saw the assailants. We returned home safely, but the High King of Anniera has been threatened again.” There was a murmur of surprise around the Keep and then silence. Artham waited a few minutes and spoke again, his strong, steady voice spreading throughout the Keep.
“Chiefs of the Hollows, we ask you to please consider this alliance. Our countries have always been stronger for our unity. We have always stood by each other’s side in every time of danger. The High King of Anniera is being threatened. If you refuse to keep us allied, then we will be forced to fight this alone. Are we truly in a country that refuses to stand by us when we are being attacked within its own borders? Anniera has always stood by you. Please, let the Green Hollows and Anniera stand in assurance by each other’s side again.” Artham remained standing for a moment longer, looking every Chief and Chieftess in the eye that would look him back. Then he sat down.
Myndik sat with his eyebrows raised in surprise and a satisfied smile on his face.
“The High King was attacked…again last night, Throne Warden?” He asked, his words filling Esben with dread. Myndik didn’t wait for an answer though.
“Chiefs of the Council, can’t you see? This is who you want to hold an alliance with. These two who didn’t even have the sense to have guards with them at all times when their lives are in danger. Both of them are incompetent, more so than even I thought,” He said with a huff of laughter.
“How so, Keeper?” Artham asked coldly. Esben immediately wished that he hadn’t spoken.
“Let me ask you a question, oh mighty Throne Warden. Were any of those attackers captured or killed?”
Artham hesitated, and Esben could see that look of self-directed fury enter his eyes again.
“No, they weren’t, Keeper. We captured one but left him behind. When we returned he was gone. Myndik scoffed again.
“Let me ask you this, Throne Warden,” he continued, and when he said the word ‘Throne Warden,’ it was so full of mocking and scorn that even Esben winced to hear it directed at his brother. He glanced at Artham. His older brother was looking down at the table, apparently not trusting himself to look Myndik in the eyes.
“How could ye be so foolish as to go home by a lonely, wooded path when your precious King’s life had been threatened twice before? What a lack of judgement! Where was yer call to protect then, Throne Warden? And look. You escape unscathed but the King you said ye would lay down yer life for was wounded! On top of all that, you, who are considered such a great warrior, left behind the captured Wanderer where he could escape! No information from this incident, no nothing! The only thing that happened was that yer brother was wounded and you proved the both of you to be the incapable children everyone here knows you are. How can you call yerself a Throne Warden?”
The council sat for a split second in shock. Myndik had stood up for his little speech, glaring down at Artham who was still sitting straight and tall, and he punctuating each of his points with a slam of his heavy hand on the table. Artham hadn’t been able to meet his eyes after the first question. Esben stared at Myndik with shock and anger. He glanced over at Artham. His brother’s head was still bent slightly, and the fists he had clenched under the table were trembling. When he opened his eyes they were so full of fury and guilt that Esben was absolutely sure Artham was directing every bit of it mercilessly at himself, blaming himself for every pang of pain or fear that he thought Esben had felt. The worst of it was that Esben knew that Artham believed that every word Myndik had said was true.
“How dare you, Myndik,” came a voice from across the table. Esben looked up to see Chief Kandir, his face flushed with anger. “I can’t believe that our Keeper has lowered himself to this. This whole week you have been falsely accusing and taunting and purposefully mocking the High King of Anniera and the Throne Warden. Yes, they are still both young men but they have shown themselves diligent and honorable and wise. You should be trying to help them instead of beating them down! And for you to manipulate the heart and duties of a Throne Warden…If Artham is anything like who I think he is, he has already been struggling with the blame and guilt for something that isn’t his fault! I didn’t know you could be so cruel, Myndik.” Kandir had stood up, never looking away from Myndik’s eyes. Multiple of the Chiefs were nodding their agreement.
“I could remove ye from yer position, Kandir. Sit down.”
“No, Keeper. I think the council will agree with me on this.” Myndik looked around at the angry or concerned faces. A few were still on his side though, and that was enough to keep anything positive from happening. Kandir continued.
“Artham, Esben, as Myndik is not going to, I apologize for this. Specifically because I didn’t stop it before it came this far. Esben, will you please tell us what really happened?”
Esben nodded.
“Thank you, Chief Kandir,” he said, trying to express as much gratitude as he could in those few words. Artham also nodded gratefully to Kandir and looked at the other chiefs while Esben began to speak, avoiding meeting Myndik’s eyes.
“We didn’t want to to through town last night, so we decided to take a shortcut through the woods. It wasn’t Artham’s idea; I suggested it. He heard them just before they attacked and gave me his sword, leaving himself to fight with just his dagger because he wanted me to have the best chance of getting out safely…”
By the time Esben had finished, the council sat in complete silence, listening attentively. At a loss for something else to say, Esben simply sat back down, praying that the Maker would do the rest. Myndik laughed.
“How can ye prove that was actually the way it happened? You two were the only ones there. How do we know ye-”
“I think that’s enough, Myndik,” Kandir said from across the table. “All of this has been enough. I believe the High King. You have had your say and now I’m going to have mine. Chiefs of the Green Hollows, it is time for us to unite with the Shining Isle. The High King and Throne Warden are facing the threat of death! Are we really going to add to these awful attacks with our opposition? Is it not our duty to stand by the country that has fought for us when we were in danger and would have lost hope if not for their loyalty to us? Let the Warriors of the Hollows now fight for the Shining Isle!” Kandir paused, and Myndik instantly tried to interrupt, but Kandir cut him off.
“I’m sorry, Myndik, but if what you’re about to say is anything like what you’ve been saying, I’m pretty sure everyone here is fed up with it. With all due respect, Keeper,” he continued, and though it wasn’t on purpose, the word ‘Keeper’ came out rather strained.
“I think everyone here has realized that you are trying to provoke the Throne Warden and High King into saying or doing something rash that would prove your accusation that they are incompetent children. But do you realize that you are doing exactly what you’re trying to get them to do? Keeper, they have shown a maturity and strength beyond their years by dealing with your immaturity.” Kandir looked surprised for a second, as if he hadn’t meant to say all of that, but then he looked assured again.
“I propose that we take the vote immediately to decide on this alliance.”
“I agree,” one of the other Chieftesses, Narinda said. Then a bell rang outside, signaling lunchtime. Practically everyone at the table glanced in the direction the food would come from. There was an uncomfortable silence until Esben finally spoke.
“How about after we eat?” He asked hesitantly. Practically everyone around the table agreed instantly, and deciding on the alliance between Anniera and the Hollows was postponed again. But only until after lunch.
Notes:
I hope you all enjoyed this nice long chapter…
And yes you have to wait until the next chapter to find out what happens. And I wonder what Aro is thinking right now…what is the assassins’ plan??? And has anyone forgotten about Nia and ‘Lander’?
Yes! I was hoping for another chapter today!!!
Artham is starting to hate bean brew! Smart man! (unfortunately, he's also adding to his brother's stress)
Yes! That is exactly what Esben needs!!! Now he can face anything!
Also, he's thanking the Maker for giving him his brother to also be with him, but he just recently sent his brother away because he needed some space! 😂
If Connolin only knew... he might not like Aro's hand on his head so much...
Aha! Myndik finally made such a fool of himself that the other chiefs had to say something! Yes, all Myndik has been doing is proving what great leaders Esben and Artham are! Now they just have to wait until after lunch - but that will be a nerve-wracking lunch! Maybe Connolin can steal food of Myndik's plate or something to lighten the mood. (unless that would reflect poorly on Anniera!)
I hope we get the next chapter soon!
No, I didn't forget about Nia and 'Lander.' Are they coming back soon?