Disclaimer et cetera in part one
"Galdred!" said a gruff voice behind him. He had been on his way to guard duty, still haunted by the whispers. He turned and saw his fifth brother, Epahar, followed by several of his guardsmen. "Come to the throne room immediately," he said, and he and his party disappeared down the Grand Corridor.
Epahar was notoriously closed-mouthed, and Galdred knew better than to pursue him and ask him what was going on. He hurried toward the throne room, wondering what this sudden conference was about. He wondered briefly if others had had the dreams he had, and heard that awful whisper. But he quickly dismissed this thought as fancy. Probably some dull business about the guard.
A wave of dread passed over him as he entered the throne room, and he realized this would be far from an ordinary guard meeting. Four of his brothers were in the room, looking anxiously at Maropin's usual seat. It was empty. Just as the main doors were closed behind him, his father came in through his side door, followed by Epahar and Goturin's wife, escorting Lady Janhimi.
Janhimi, Maropin's bride of ten years, was red eyed and leaned heavily on Bereca as if she had no strength to stand on her own. A page brought a chair for her and she sank into it. Bereca placed a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder, but her face bore the same emotionless mask it had since Goturin's disappearance.
Bereca had always been quiet and seemed very strong, but when Goturin vanished last year she had completely closed herself to the world. Galdred had not seen once this entire year an expression of sadness or joy. She seemed so unaffected by the world around her, as if she had been living in another land the entire time. She was silent, stoic, almost... empty. Yes, that was it. Bereca was empty.
Janhimi let her hair fall in front of her face, and Galdred could no longer see her expression. He focused on his father, King Lozornath of Minas Nevir, as he took his throne and looked solemnly upon his sons and the two women.
"Tragedy is upon us again; let us waste no time. A year ago, we lost Goturin. He was my heir, my eldest son, and would have made a strong leader. But we moved on, and I began to groom Maropin to take my place one day. Maropin was not the born leader his brother is, but he was learning quickly and would have made a good king."
Here his father paused and Galdred wondered at his use of the past tense- Maropin would have made a good king? What had happened? Galdred realized the significance of his absence and Janhimi's grief-
"Maropin has disappeared."
Galdred and his brothers moaned grief, shock and dismay. He himself felt that he would faint and heard again that echo of the evil whisper.
Nine for mortal men doomed to die!
It repeated and repeated, it swelled in volume, and he clasped his hands over his ears. NO! he shouted at the voice, the whisper that was now a scream. The room swirled and tilted and he felt himself falling, sinking, and consumed by blackness.
Then suddenly, the room righted itself. He thought he must have shouted aloud, but no one was looking at him. Janhimi was sobbing, curled on the floor. Bereca simply stared at her with the same blank expression. His brothers rubbed their faces, unable to grasp the second tragedy that had befallen them. His father looked so worn at that moment, so old and tired. Not weak, just exhausted.
"Inredir, come here," said the King, and his third son moved toward the throne. Inredir was one of the most brilliant minds in the kingdom, and spent his days studying science, philosophy, and literature. He was defiant by nature, but Galdred expected him to act appropriately and obey his father at this moment-
"No," he whispered hoarsely, so quiet Galdred was not certain he'd heard correctly.
"Inredir," repeated the King.
"It isn't right, father, I won't do it. I cannot be your heir. I cannot be King. You know it is true. Let Fiven do it. Epahar, anyone but me. I cannot do it. I cannot."
"Inredir, it is the custom. It is the law. You can and you must. You will. I will not argue this with you, my son." He drew himself up to his full height, taller than any of his sons. His eyes hardened with an expression that commanded obedience.
"What will you do to me if I refuse? Cut me out of the family? Banish me? Kill me? I care not. But I will not take that seat, father. I will not replace my brother as if it were that simple. It isn't. Besides, how do you know he is gone?" Inredir's eyes glinted defiantly.
"You will not question me. I am your King, and it is my command that you take this seat beside me and prepare to take my kingdom at the event of my death."
Fiven, the fourth Son, stepped forward. "Father, forgive me, but if Inredir does not wish to inherit your kingdom, would it not be best to honor that? By forcing the throne on him, you not only destroy his life as a scholar, but also place the country in unwilling and therefore incompetent hands. Would it not behoove you to choose someone more eager and able?"
The King scowled at Fiven. "Someone like you? You are too eager, my son, and you speak out of turn. If you are so eager to please, why do you question me?" His tone was so scathing that Fiven shrank back immediately. He looked at the entire assemblage. "Does anyone else wish to question me?" As he spoke he stood and drew himself up to his full height.
"Inredir, I declare thee mine heir. Take thy seat at my right hand, for thou art my progeny."
Inredir hesitated only momentarily, and then slowly obeyed. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head in defeat, as one who is going to his doom.
"It pains me greatly that I should lose two sons, so well suited to the task of assuming the throne, but I know Inredir will not fall short of my expectations. I am sure you all think it odd that Goturin and Maropin should have disappeared on the same day a year apart, and believe me I dislike it greatly. But I do not think it a pattern. I do not pretend to know why they left. But now, my six sons, I command you to stay. I am the King of Minas Nevir, and I shall order the guards at the gate to allow none of you to pass without my leave. You are not prisoners here, my sons, you are protected. If one of you should defy my word and leave the city, you will never be allowed to reenter the kingdom. You will be killed on sight by any loyal soldier of this land. I am King and my word is law, unchangeable and unquestionable." He looked them over slowly, and then walked out of the room.
"Galdred!" said a gruff voice behind him. He had been on his way to guard duty, still haunted by the whispers. He turned and saw his fifth brother, Epahar, followed by several of his guardsmen. "Come to the throne room immediately," he said, and he and his party disappeared down the Grand Corridor.
Epahar was notoriously closed-mouthed, and Galdred knew better than to pursue him and ask him what was going on. He hurried toward the throne room, wondering what this sudden conference was about. He wondered briefly if others had had the dreams he had, and heard that awful whisper. But he quickly dismissed this thought as fancy. Probably some dull business about the guard.
A wave of dread passed over him as he entered the throne room, and he realized this would be far from an ordinary guard meeting. Four of his brothers were in the room, looking anxiously at Maropin's usual seat. It was empty. Just as the main doors were closed behind him, his father came in through his side door, followed by Epahar and Goturin's wife, escorting Lady Janhimi.
Janhimi, Maropin's bride of ten years, was red eyed and leaned heavily on Bereca as if she had no strength to stand on her own. A page brought a chair for her and she sank into it. Bereca placed a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder, but her face bore the same emotionless mask it had since Goturin's disappearance.
Bereca had always been quiet and seemed very strong, but when Goturin vanished last year she had completely closed herself to the world. Galdred had not seen once this entire year an expression of sadness or joy. She seemed so unaffected by the world around her, as if she had been living in another land the entire time. She was silent, stoic, almost... empty. Yes, that was it. Bereca was empty.
Janhimi let her hair fall in front of her face, and Galdred could no longer see her expression. He focused on his father, King Lozornath of Minas Nevir, as he took his throne and looked solemnly upon his sons and the two women.
"Tragedy is upon us again; let us waste no time. A year ago, we lost Goturin. He was my heir, my eldest son, and would have made a strong leader. But we moved on, and I began to groom Maropin to take my place one day. Maropin was not the born leader his brother is, but he was learning quickly and would have made a good king."
Here his father paused and Galdred wondered at his use of the past tense- Maropin would have made a good king? What had happened? Galdred realized the significance of his absence and Janhimi's grief-
"Maropin has disappeared."
Galdred and his brothers moaned grief, shock and dismay. He himself felt that he would faint and heard again that echo of the evil whisper.
Nine for mortal men doomed to die!
It repeated and repeated, it swelled in volume, and he clasped his hands over his ears. NO! he shouted at the voice, the whisper that was now a scream. The room swirled and tilted and he felt himself falling, sinking, and consumed by blackness.
Then suddenly, the room righted itself. He thought he must have shouted aloud, but no one was looking at him. Janhimi was sobbing, curled on the floor. Bereca simply stared at her with the same blank expression. His brothers rubbed their faces, unable to grasp the second tragedy that had befallen them. His father looked so worn at that moment, so old and tired. Not weak, just exhausted.
"Inredir, come here," said the King, and his third son moved toward the throne. Inredir was one of the most brilliant minds in the kingdom, and spent his days studying science, philosophy, and literature. He was defiant by nature, but Galdred expected him to act appropriately and obey his father at this moment-
"No," he whispered hoarsely, so quiet Galdred was not certain he'd heard correctly.
"Inredir," repeated the King.
"It isn't right, father, I won't do it. I cannot be your heir. I cannot be King. You know it is true. Let Fiven do it. Epahar, anyone but me. I cannot do it. I cannot."
"Inredir, it is the custom. It is the law. You can and you must. You will. I will not argue this with you, my son." He drew himself up to his full height, taller than any of his sons. His eyes hardened with an expression that commanded obedience.
"What will you do to me if I refuse? Cut me out of the family? Banish me? Kill me? I care not. But I will not take that seat, father. I will not replace my brother as if it were that simple. It isn't. Besides, how do you know he is gone?" Inredir's eyes glinted defiantly.
"You will not question me. I am your King, and it is my command that you take this seat beside me and prepare to take my kingdom at the event of my death."
Fiven, the fourth Son, stepped forward. "Father, forgive me, but if Inredir does not wish to inherit your kingdom, would it not be best to honor that? By forcing the throne on him, you not only destroy his life as a scholar, but also place the country in unwilling and therefore incompetent hands. Would it not behoove you to choose someone more eager and able?"
The King scowled at Fiven. "Someone like you? You are too eager, my son, and you speak out of turn. If you are so eager to please, why do you question me?" His tone was so scathing that Fiven shrank back immediately. He looked at the entire assemblage. "Does anyone else wish to question me?" As he spoke he stood and drew himself up to his full height.
"Inredir, I declare thee mine heir. Take thy seat at my right hand, for thou art my progeny."
Inredir hesitated only momentarily, and then slowly obeyed. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head in defeat, as one who is going to his doom.
"It pains me greatly that I should lose two sons, so well suited to the task of assuming the throne, but I know Inredir will not fall short of my expectations. I am sure you all think it odd that Goturin and Maropin should have disappeared on the same day a year apart, and believe me I dislike it greatly. But I do not think it a pattern. I do not pretend to know why they left. But now, my six sons, I command you to stay. I am the King of Minas Nevir, and I shall order the guards at the gate to allow none of you to pass without my leave. You are not prisoners here, my sons, you are protected. If one of you should defy my word and leave the city, you will never be allowed to reenter the kingdom. You will be killed on sight by any loyal soldier of this land. I am King and my word is law, unchangeable and unquestionable." He looked them over slowly, and then walked out of the room.