A/N: I'm going camping this weekend, so rather than make you all wait until Monday for an update, I decided to post early. Review replies will be sent when I get back!

In the Archives

Chancellor Oraz walked with the King through the palace hall, flanked by guards. "You say the Abhorsen has chosen his successor?"

"Yes, Majesty. His young niece."

"That is happy news," said King Edrian. "I would like to meet her sometime. See that appropriate congratulations are sent, and a letter of invitation."

The Chancellor bowed his head. "Of course."

"Now, Oraz. What were you saying about the – oof!"

The air rang as the guards drew their swords, but they paused when they realized exactly who had assaulted their King. Apparently young Prince Rothain had been practicing with his toy bow and arrow. The boy was sliding off the table he had chosen as his perch, looking shamefaced.

The King's eyes twinkled, and suddenly he clutched the toy arrow to his chest with both hands and made a great show of dying. He dramatically collapsed against the wall and slid down to sprawl gracelessly on the floor. "Prince Rothain!" the Chancellor said with a mock gasp. "You have killed the King!"

The boy laughed and ran over to his father, dropping his little wooden bow. The guards smiled indulgently as the King wrestled with his third child on the carpet. King Edrian often exasperated his court by refusing to follow the proper protocols and etiquette, but really, there was something to be said for his unorthodox approach.

"Here you are, Chancellor."

"Thank you Madran" said Oraz, accepting the goblet of wine and taking a hasty sip. He flipped over a parchment page and scanned the lines of scrawled text.

He was nestled in a particularly unkempt corner of the palace archives devoted to transcripts of court trials. The archivists had been dismissed from service a year ago and things had fallen into spectacular disarray since then. Not for the first time, the Chancellor wished that King Rothain had not accused the archivists of treason and exiled them from Belisaere. But he couldn't question a direct order from the King.

Ensign Madran, the guard who had brought him the wine, regarded the stacks of crumpled pages. "Anything I can help you with? Lady Tafline sent me to assist you," he explained.

"Er – yes, all right." The Chancellor paused and rubbed his tired eyes. Some help would be most welcome at this stage; he could always count on the Keeper of the Seal to send assistance when he needed it. The wine had probably been her idea too. And the Ensign, unlike most guardsmen, was exceptionally bright. "I'm looking for the records of a trial," he explained. "It took place five months ago, at the start of the rebellion. A woman, a Traveller named Kelsa, was convicted of attempting to assassinate the King."

The guard looked at him quickly. "I remember that day," he said.

"Who doesn't?" remarked the Chancellor with more bitterness than he had intended.

He remembered it all. The assassination attempt that morning during one of the King's rare public appearances at an archery tournament. The King's foul rage when he realized that someone had tried to kill him. The arrest of a female archer in the crowd by Lieutenant Padric. The hidden trials in small dark rooms and the whispered testimony. And late that night, Captain Betrys of the Royal Guard telling the King in no uncertain terms why his people were rebelling against him and why his subjects wanted to kill him. The subsequent argument shouted through the throne room. And the Captain clandestinely gathering a third of the Guard that very night and marching out of Belisaere. Oh yes, it had been a memorable day.

"What do you need the records for?" Madran asked as he pulled a stack of papers towards him.

The Chancellor sighed. "Illirae had a vision that one of our prisoners would be wrongfully executed. The prisoner turned out to be this Kelsa."

Madran nodded. "Ah. I see." The tone of his voice was carefully neutral

Chancellor Oraz smiled; young Madran was sharp. The Ensign knew as well as he did that a wrongful execution would be detrimental to the King's reputation, given that only a year ago he had put a much-loved Queen to death. As Chancellor, it was Oraz's duty to see that the King projected a certain image, and his duty had become much more challenging over the past couple of years. Ever since the King's "madness" was said to have started.

After an hour or so, Madran passed over a thin stack of parchment. "Chancellor – here."

Oraz brought his candle closer and scanned the text, his long nose nearly touching the page. "This is it," he confirmed. "The transcripts from the trial. It looks like there were several interrogations, at different times..."

"Did she confess under duress?" asked Madran, giving in to curiosity.

"Perhaps." Oraz shuffled quickly through the papers. "Wait a moment... There is witness testimony here that has been discounted. And several sections of Kelsa' testimony too. Dismissed by the King's signature." He leaned forward to read, lips moving rapidly. When he was finished he sat back in his chair, wiped his brow, and took a large gulp of wine.

"Chancellor? Chancellor Oraz?" Madran was watching him in apprehension.

"Ensign," said the old man quietly. "Have Lady Tafline find Lieutenant Padric and place him under arrest."

The young man blinked, but didn't question his orders. Soon Chancellor Oraz was alone in the archives among the papers and dust. He looked down at the scrawled writing. According to a few witnesses and Kelsa herself, Lieutenant Padric had been seen firing an arrow at the Royal Box where the King had been sitting. Lieutenant Padric, the very officer who had arrested Kelsa and been put in charge of investigations. But why had the King dismissed the evidence? Had he been influenced in some way?

The Chancellor rubbed his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. So Illirae was right after all. Kelsa had not tried to kill the King. According to the records her father was an archivist, which must have only served to increase the discrimination and hatred against her. After all, the archivists had been convicted of writing treasonous lies after the Queen's death. Maybe the King just hated the archivists, or perhaps he had been misled, but in any case Illirae's vision had been correct and Kelsa was innocent.

Taking up the papers, the Chancellor left the archives. After stopping at his office to deposit the evidence, he returned to the throne room. The guards outside the double doors nodded at him courteously as they let him by. They were good people, good and loyal, which was especially precious during this difficult time.

Captain Finessa of the Royal Guard and one of her Lieutenants were making reports when he walked in. It mostly consisted of rattling off numbers, and Oraz was convinced that the King was not paying the slightest bit of attention, but it was procedure. He waited patiently for them to finish. By the side of the throne stood that new guard – Jyss, he remembered. He was pleased that so far she had managed not to rouse the King's ire, but he did not know how long that would last. Rothain could be unpredictable.

"Something new has come up," said the Chancellor at the conclusion of the report, taking a step forward. "Lieutenant Padric is being placed under arrest. I sent Ensign Madran to fetch Lady Tafline," he explained to Captain Finessa. "Majesty, with Padric demoted we are fast running out of officers."

"Corporal Teira can replace him while the Chancellor sorts out what happened," said Captain Finessa. The King nodded, and Lieutenant Sonchia left the throne room to carry out the promotion.

"Still, Majesty," said Oraz once she had gone, "I suggest that we request the presence of the Abhorsen."

King Rothain's head snapped up, and he looked directly into the Chancellor's eyes. The old man did not like it, but he did not look away either. The King licked his lips and shook his head. "No."

"Majesty –"

"I said no!" The King's voice echoed around the room. The young guard jumped. Rothain, who had half-risen during his outburst, sat back in his throne. A purple vein in his left temple was throbbing.

"At least hear my reasoning." When the King did not object, Oraz continued. "The Abhorsen is faithful to the Crown. He always has been, Majesty, and he remains ever your servant. He is a good leader and well-respected throughout the Kingdom. We may need his support, especially at such a delicate time as this."

Captain Finessa glanced at him. She cleared her throat, and said, "Majesty, I concur with the Chancellor."

Oraz knew what she was thinking. With the Abhorsen here, there would be more rational minds about. He himself had some doubts as to the King's sanity, but by the Charter he would not voice them. With the Abhorsen's steadying presence at court they might be able to stave off the whispers of anarchy.

"My King," he said when the young man had made no reply, "I strongly urge you to call for the Abhorsen."

King Rothain deliberated silently. The Chancellor and Captain Finessa exchanged glances, wondering if they were going to get an answer from him. Finally, he nodded. "Call for him," he said hoarsely. "But we do not wish to see him more than is strictly necessary. Are we understood?"

Oraz was surprised, as the Abhorsen was one of the King's strongest supporters. But he had no choice but to agree. "It shall be as you command."

He and the Captain bowed and left the throne room together. Outside the doors, they halted for a private conference.

"I'll have message-hawks sent," said Captain Finessa. "Last I heard he was somewhere in the south battling something or other." She paused, then asked, "Do you think he will come?"

"Most definitely," answered the Chancellor. "During the reign of King Edrian hardly a month went by that we did not see the Abhorsen at court."

The Captain smiled in remembrance. "That was a good time."

"Yes," Chancellor Oraz agreed. "Belisaere was beautiful and full of gardens. And people! The palace could barely contain the court. Such an illustrious gathering. The halls were bright and full of the laughter of children." He smiled sadly. "Rothain had been a child then. Before..."

"The barbarian invasions," said Captain Finessa. She bit her lip in frustration. "It just seems like that was the beginning of the end for us. Charter curse the Northerners! We drove them out eventually, but they still managed to ruin the Kingdom by slaying the rest of the Royal Family."

"Ruin?" The Chancellor raised his bushy eyebrows. "We are not ruined. Not quite. Not yet. And hopefully the Abhorsen will come and restore some semblance of –" He stopped. The word "sanity" was hanging in the air between them.

Captain Finessa clapped him on the shoulder. "Do not worry, Chancellor. We shall get through this. Betrys cannot hold out forever, and hopefully she will come to her senses before she does anything rash. Meanwhile..." She shrugged.

The Chancellor watched her walk away. "Meanwhile," he whispered to himself, "we look after the King, and hope for a miracle."

A/N: What could that miracle be? And will there even be a miracle? What will the Abhorsen do? And why did Padric try to assassinate the King? And why do flamingos stand on one leg? Answers to four of these questions will appear later in the story. Until then, reviews are most welcome.