Chapter 7

It could only have been a few moments later when he came to, for they were all talking at once, across one another's words, no one listening to anyone.

"It's just shock," Dorgan was saying insistently. "It's the legacy of not eating and all the stress on top of his injury."

"You're not being straight with me about that burn," Duncan declared. "How bad is it really?"

"What injury?" Stratos asked, alarm coloring his voice. "Burn? What has been happening here?" Randor realized that he wasn't lying on the bed properly any longer. Apparently his torso had slid sideways when he passed out. Stratos cradled his upper body while Dorgan and Duncan were trying to get his legs straightened out and shift him further down the bed. He still had no real control over his limbs, so he lay limply, letting them arrange him. "Does he have any other injuries besides that arm?" Stratos asked in worried tones. "I don't want to hurt him."

"Not unless he's been keeping things from me," Dorgan said.

"And that would be unusual behavior for Randor," Duncan said bitingly. "Didn't you even check?"

"I'm fine," Randor said, trying to make himself heard over the ruckus. They all ignored him, even

Stratos.

"We'll just have to be very gentle with him, then," the Avion said.

"Gentle?" Duncan said in an ironic tone. "He's not being very gentle with himself! What was he thinking?" Randor noticed, however, that their hands did move more softly against his flesh.

"I'll get him checked over thoroughly once we've got him lying down," Dorgan said. "Stoicism is well and good in a king, but it can be carried too far."

"He was like this before he was king," Duncan growled.

"Will someone please tell me what is going on?" Stratos asked, his cultured tones more demanding than usual.

"Duncan? Where is the viewer?" Randor asked. His voice sounded weak even to him. Stratos, in the process of guiding his head and shoulders back against a pillow, looked at him oddly.

"Viewer?" the Avion asked, obviously puzzled.

"I've got it right here, Randor," Duncan said soothingly. He held the small piece of stone up and peered into it. Randor glared at him when he didn't immediately give it back. "Just lie calmly, Adam is fine."

"I want to see him myself, Duncan. Give it to me." He shoved himself up to a half-sitting position and put out a peremptory hand. When it was clear that he wasn't going to simply lie back, Stratos leaned down to support him.

"He's sleeping." Duncan looked him in the eye. "He's finished the meal and he's sleeping." Randor didn't relax his demanding reach.

"Give it to him, Duncan," Dorgan sighed. "He won't rest unless you do." Reluctantly, his Man-at-Arms handed it to him.

"Is this what you spent all morning staring at?" Duncan asked uneasily as Randor fumbled it around so that he could look in. "That can't be healthy."

"In his position, could you stop?" Dorgan asked.

"By the Elders, that's Adam!" Stratos exclaimed, peering over Randor's shoulder at the image the viewer presented. "Where is he?"

"If I knew that, we'd have a lot fewer problems," Randor said wearily. The others nodded agreement.

"I don't understand, what has happened?"

Randor stared at Adam, who was, in fact, sleeping. His injured arm was draped across his chest, and he looked absolutely worn out, but the plates on the table were empty. As he watched, they vanished. Randor set his teeth. That meant the imposter was watching as well. He did note that the pitcher of water and the glass both remained. He continued watching Adam while the others brought Stratos up to date, interrupting for occasional corrections. When they were done, the Avion sat back, stunned.

"So you're building this machine he wants," he said slowly. Duncan nodded. "What can I do to help?"

"Well, I still need the elpinar –"

"No," Randor said suddenly, a thought occurring to him. They all turned to stare at him in surprise. "No, there's something else we need."

"What?"

"We need to know why he's doing this. What is it that he wants?" Randor looked around. "Get me some pillows to shove behind my back. I can't talk to you lying flat like this." They found him what he wanted and gathered around to hear what he had to say. Randor pursed his lips. "He wants to excavate under Arleron village, but I don't know what it is he's looking for exactly."

"We need to find out," Stratos said thoughtfully. "If we knew, we might have a better notion of how to defeat this heinous villain."

Randor beamed at him. "My thoughts, exactly, Stratos. And I have to know what it is I'm helping him accomplish."

"Yes," Duncan nodded sharply. "I can't imagine that all he wants is a digging machine, Randor."

"You think I don't know that, Duncan?" Randor exclaimed. "I didn't know what to do! He speaks one word and his hand turns into a branding iron. We have no idea what he's capable of and no way of guessing just where he's keeping Adam. The only clue we have is the wood of the structure, and unless I'm mistaken it's one of the commonest woods on Eternia."

"He's clearly been planning this for some time," Duncan said musingly. "Whatever he wants must be incredible to make it all worth while." Randor's eyes shot to Duncan's face, and when he saw the gravity of his expression, he shivered. Duncan's thoughts were racing toward a conclusion that Randor had been unconsciously avoiding. He didn't speak them aloud however.

"Randor," Dorgan said slowly. "I know we touched on this before, but have you truly considered that you may not be able to go through with this?" It was clear from the look in Dorgan's eyes that he was as devastated by the thought as Randor was. Duncan looked shattered to the core by the very idea. But Stratos shook his head resolutely.

"No, that's not an option," the Avion said categorically. Randor was perplexed by his certainty.

"But Stratos, surely -" he started, but broke off when Stratos shook his head again.

"Adam is the only heir to the throne." Duncan opened his mouth, and Randor knew he was thinking of the fact that he had been appointed Adam's heir until such time as Adam had children. "Ordinarily, kings have families, brothers or sisters, who are collateral heirs, other claimants to the throne. But you are the first of your line." Stratos looked around at all their stunned faces. "The reason you are king, Randor, is that you were appointed by the Elders themselves. As your son, Adam is the only one who can follow you on the throne. Were you both to die before Adam has a child, it would send the country into chaos."

"He could appoint an heir, Stratos," Dorgan said. "I'm not saying I like the idea, but there are things that Randor simply couldn't do, even to save Adam's life."

Stratos took a deep breath and put a hand on Dorgan's shoulder. "Even were he to appoint an alternate heir, it would make no difference. Randor can rally the disparate races of Eternia because he was appointed by the Elders. He was chosen for a reason. I couldn't do it, Duncan couldn't do it." Duncan nodded, Dorgan looked thoughtful, and Randor didn't know how to react to Stratos' evaluation. "But for Adam, it will come as naturally as breathing." Randor sat straighter, startled by this assertion. Adam was a boy, very young and not always entirely reliable. Stratos noted his reaction and smiled reassuringly. "You're too close to him to see him clearly, Randor." He cast a glance at Duncan. "You as well, Man-at-Arms. And Healer Dorgan looks at people with a very different perspective." Stratos shrugged. "Adolescence is a tough time for any young man, and for a boy with Adam's responsibilities doubly so, but surely you all see that Adam has the gift of leadership. He combines the best of you and Marlena, Randor. He will be a great man one day."

Dorgan pursed his lips. "Stratos, I know you care for the boy a great deal, so do we all, but –"

Stratos held up a hand and the healer subsided. "No, Dorgan, you don't understand. Of course I care about Adam. But what I foresee if Adam dies without issue is a wrenching civil war where the only winner is Skeletor, who would see his opportunity and take advantage immediately." Randor stared in shock at his friend. "Adam will unite all the factions and avoid such a conflict."

"What about He-Man?" Dorgan suggested. Duncan gasped, and his jaw dropped open then shut again with a snap.

"Dorgan," Randor exclaimed, pushed past his endurance. "Don't you want us to rescue Adam?"

"Of course I do! I just – oh, blast! You're right, I'm arguing against my own wishes."

"Besides," said Stratos. "Though He-Man is a great warrior, such men do not always make great kings. Randor is an exception –"

"Wait a minute!" Dorgan exclaimed. They all turned to him in startlement. "The queen! I almost forgot!"

"What about the queen?" Randor demanded, his entire body tensing up.

Dorgan gave him a worried look. "While you were unconscious, the imposter kept talking to Adam. He's holding the queen's safety over Adam's head, apparently, to keep him from trying to escape."

Randor flung the blanket aside and swung his legs off the bed. "Adam attacked him. Where's Marlena?" As he stood up dizziness swept through him and his balance fled. He fell heavily to his knees, and was only saved from landing face first on the carpet by Duncan's quick intervention. Stratos aborted a move to do the same. Randor threw a desperate look at the Avion. "Go find Marlena!"

Stratos turned to go, but the door opened in front of him, and Marlena walked in, eyes blazing. "I'm glad to know someone thought to send for me."

Relief caused Randor's muscles to go limp and he leaned on Duncan for support. But then he'd always leaned on Duncan for support. "Marlena, you're all right!"

Stratos shut the door behind the queen, who ran forward and knelt in front of Randor. "What's happened to him?" she demanded, turning back to Dorgan. "And why didn't you send for me at once?"

"I told him not to, Marlena. It's not his fault."

"What is going on, Randor?" She glanced around the room. "And how many of your friends did you tell before sharing it with me?"

Randor blinked wearily at her. "Marlena, I – please don't be angry with me."

She put a hand on his cheek. "Randor, darling, please tell me what's wrong. You can't do everything alone." Randor closed his eyes and felt himself drift for a moment. Marlena's voice drew him back to himself. "What's wrong with him?" she exclaimed.

"He's worn out," Dorgan said. "And no wonder. Get him back up on the bed."

"I'm fine," Randor protested. "We must make plans."

"In the morning, Randor," Marlena said, sitting back as the others lifted him. Despite valiant efforts, Randor couldn't keep his eyes open. As he fell into a deep sleep, he heard Marlena still speaking. "As for you three, I eagerly await your explanations."

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Mekanek sat on a bench in the courtyard gazing at the night sky. His mission was temporarily in abeyance with the king in the infirmary, so he'd sought a peaceful moment alone.

He heard a footstep on the balcony above him, and he extended his neck curiously to see who it was. Adam had walked out to lean on the edge, and was staring pensively at the stars.

Rapid footsteps followed him, and Mekanek saw Teela run up behind the prince. "Adam, your father's sick! They say he's collapsed!"

Adam turned to look at her as she came to a stop beside him. "Really?" he said slowly. "Hmm. . . ." Then he looked back up at the stars.

"Adam! Didn't you hear me?"

"Yeah. So?"

"He's in the infirmary." She paused, clearly waiting for something. "Aren't you going to go see him?"

"If he collapsed, he won't want to see me," Adam said. "I'm sure the healers will fix him right up."

Teela gaped.

"Well, even if he doesn't need you, your mother will. You need to go to her." Adam ignored her completely. "Don't you care?" Adam shrugged. "Adam, you can't just stand here with your father lying sick in –"

"You know," Adam said, turning around and leaning against the edge of the balcony. "You're awfully bossy for a commoner."

Teela's eyes narrowed. "What did you call me?"

"A commoner. You are one, after all, Captain of the Guard or no."

"What's come over you, Adam? You're turning into a real jerk."

Adam gave her a frosty look. "Thank you, Captain, for the information. That will be all." He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. Teela's mouth opened and closed several times as she stood glaring speechlessly at the prince. Then she bowed deeply and stomped away.

Adam watched her leave with an odd look on his face. "Maybe I should do the prince a big favor before I go and eliminate that red-headed hussy."

Mekanek's jaw dropped in utter astonishment as comprehension dawned in his mind. Then he took off at a dead run for the infirmary.

He slowed when he came to more populated areas, not wanting to spread alarm. Running footsteps came up behind him and he turned to see Adam – or whoever he was – coming up behind him. "Mekanek, can I talk to you?" he asked, looking worried.

Mekanek didn't know what to do. The imposter caught his arm and pulled him into a small side room. "What do you want?" Mekanek asked, his voice harsh.

The imposter gave him a vicious smile that made Mekanek's stomach roll. "I know you overheard me talking to myself." He shrugged. "Careless of me, but it can't be helped."

"Then you know you can't possibly get away with this. I'll –"

"Do nothing." Lifting a hand he said something Mekanek couldn't quite hear. His hand began to glow with a red heat that Mekanek could feel on his face. Then the heat died away, and the imposter reached forward and patted Mekanek's cheek with that hand. It was quite cool, but he flinched away nevertheless. "You wouldn't want Prince Adam to return with an interesting burn on his face, now, would you? You will tell no one." Mekanek stared at the imposter in open-mouthed horror, but the man wrinkled his brows. "No, you're going to run bleating the moment I'm out of sight aren't you?"

Mekanek started to speak, to deny this, but the imposter muttered something else and touched his forehead. A strange feeling came over him and he felt himself fall to the ground.