Cost of a Crown (Book 1)

Two Brothers

Chapter Two: The Brothers' Plan

Randor didn't feel powerless very often. As the son of a King, he had an abundance of power that he, honestly, didn't know what to do with most of the time.

But his father's failing health filled Randor with a kind of anxiety he never experienced before and wasn't equipped to deal with. He found himself in the training yard more and more often as Miro continued to decline. Randor wasn't bookish and studious like Keldor. He couldn't sit for long hours just staring at pages upon pages of text. He found no pleasure in study, or even just casual reading.

When they were younger and still given to the care of tutors and private educators, Randor was a very disruptive student. Always falling asleep during lessons, or getting up and walking around the classroom, or trying to talk to his brother -whom was a model student- or even just climbing on the furniture, putting his feet up on the desk and hanging off the edge with his hands braced on the floor, do cartwheels in the back of the room only to misjudge the space and smack his head on the wall.

Randor thrived best when he was doing something physical. Randor did his best thinking when his body was otherwise engaged.

He trained with his own sword. A two-handed broad sword his father commissioned for him. Eternia had not suffered any wars within Randor's lifetime. The last war ended when Keldor was still just an infant, months before Randor would even be born.

Randor, and his large and pretty war blade had never seen real battle.

But it was said that Eternia could never go a single generation without a war, and Miro wanted both his son's to be ready because they would be the commanders of the next one, and so he commissioned swords for both brothers.

Training with his shiny, unblooded, virgin sword had become something of a ritual of Randor's.

Keldor had his magic and his brooding, and Randor had the training circle and his sword.

Randor was pulled from his almost meditative state when the blade clanged against another metal something, his swing being blocked, and he blinked at the person who had entered the training circle with him.

"Duncan!" Randor barked. "By the Goddess, I could have taken your head off!"

"Not with a swing like that you wouldn't." The other replied.

Duncan was a member of the Eternos guard. A Captain in the guard, actually, and one of the most promising officers. It was rumored that he was very likely to be promoted to the next Man-at-Arms if old Dekker ever retired.

He was also Randor's best friend.

"Oh, yeah?" Randor flashed a challenging smirk. "You think you can do better? Let's have a match!"

Duncan heaved a theatrically dramatic sigh. "If that is your wish, Your Highness."

Both men readjusted their stances.

Randor called it a 'match'. But no one kept the time, and no one called the start. The two men just launched at each other. Duncan with his mace, and Randor with his very clean and shiny sword.

The two men circling each other, spinning their weapons to cover all sides of their bodies, not leaving an opening for the other to exploit. They both had training yard perfect technique. Polished in a way that betrayed practice but not experience.

When their weapons connected, it was like a perfectly choreographed dance. Even the clang of metal against metal started to form the melody of a battle song. But it was the perfect, measured tempo of kata sets, not the clumsy chaos of a real battle for life and limb.

Someone on the sidelines even clapped.

Applauded as if it were just a show. Players acting at being warriors.

Both Duncan and Randor paused. Still holding their weapons up, both men looked over to the side. Searching the sidelines for the one clapping.

They expected to see Duncan's brother Fergus (whom had recently been elevated to a Master and insisted everyone call him by his new pseudonym, Fisto), or maybe even Dekker, he liked to watch the recruits practice sometimes. It helped him decide how best to deploy them around the city.

But it was not Fisto, or Dekker they saw watching them practice.

Count Marzo stood at the edge of the training circle.

"Please, don't stop on my account." Marzo called to them. "Your forms are perfect, Your Highness, Captain, I was enjoying the dance."

Randor didn't know what to say to that. He never knew how to speak to Count Marzo. The older man had a way of making it seem like every statement that came out of his mouth had more than one meaning. Randor never knew what Marzo was actually trying to say, and it made him feel like an ignorant child trying to sit with the grown-up's whenever they did speak.

But Marzo was also father's best friend. So, Randor plastered a welcoming smile on his face and waved to the older man. "Would you like to join us, my Lord? As a veteran of many battles, I'm sure there's a lot you could teach us."

"There probably is." Marzo agreed. He brushed that gray streak of hair out of his eyes and leaned against the training circle railing. "But my days of fighting are over. Now I like to live in comfort, in this luxurious palace, and watch younger men play at being soldiers."

"I am a soldier." Duncan informed him defensively. Then quickly remembered the difference in their stations. Just because he was friends with a Prince and allowed to be familiar and banter with Randor, did not give him leave to behave the same to a Count. Duncan quickly bowed his head and added, "my Lord."

Marzo appeared to be ignoring Duncan all together. His attention was focused on Randor, and Randor only.

"Interesting audiences today, wouldn't you say, Your Highness?" He asked.

"I wouldn't know." Randor confessed. "I slept through most of them. Keldor's the one who's really good at all the boring King stuff. That's why he's gonna rule and I'll be his General, or something."

"You boys have it all figured out." Marzo smiled an odd smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. There was an odd asymmetry to the expression. His mouth looked cheerful and amused, but his eyes were oddly hard and calculating. The upper and lower halves of his face did not quite seem to agree on how he felt. "I do wonder," he continued, "what do you suppose that Aquatican meant when he said he was not the only non-human who wants to see your brother become King?"

Randor only shrugged. What did he know about the wants of people he'd never met?

Marzo appeared to be disinterested in whether Randor answered or not, as if the question itself were unimportant. He traced the patterns of discoloration in the old training circle railing with his thumb nail. "Miro would often say that Eternia could never last an entire generation without having a war. For your sakes, and not my own, I do hope those creatures aren't planning anything… sinister."

"I'm sure it's nothing more than what he said." Randor insisted. "He wants to see a non-human King on the throne. It's only fair. Like he said, Eternia is a world of many races. So other races should have turns at ruling. Maybe Keldor's wife will be another non-human, and we'll have a Beastmen, or a Caligar, or some other non-human for a King after him."

For half a second, Marzo's expression twitched asymmetrically. But then his lips stretched into another one of those gentle smiles that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I see you truly are a pure-hearted Prince, Your Highness. One who loves all."

Randor didn't know what to say to that either, so he just shrugged again.

"I wonder, does your brother feel the same way?" Marzo pressed. "Does Prince Keldor love Eternia as much as you do?"

The question confused Randor. Of course Keldor loved Eternia. Eternia was their world. Eternia was their nation. Keldor would rule Eternia one day. Why would he not love it? Why was this a question that was even being asked?

Perhaps Randor just stared in confused silence a little too long, because Marzo shrugged his shoulders as if it didn't matter and brushed that strand of gray hair back out of his the way of his young face again. "Forgive me my ramblings. I'm just an old man talking to enjoy the sound of my own voice." Marzo turned to leave. "Please tell your father I'd like to see him when he feels strong enough to have visitors. We can swap old war stories and reminisce about the 'good ol' days'."

Duncan watched Marzo exit the training yard. He waited until the heavy wooden doors leading inside the palace were shut firmly behind the old Count before speaking. "I don't like that guy."

"I never know how to talk to Marzo." Randor agreed. "But he's not really that bad. I'm sure the problem is generational. I don't know how to talk to my father sometimes too, and he's a lot meaner now that his health is getting worse."

"What was all that stuff about 'does Prince Keldor love Eternia enough'?" Duncan asked. "It was almost as if he were saying that Keldor shouldn't be King."

"Don't be absurd." Randor shook his head. "Marzo was the one who rescued father from Anwat Gar, Marzo brought Keldor to Eternos in the first place! He's practically a second parent to us. If he didn't want Keldor to be King, he could have just left him on the island with his mother and just brought father home." Randor grabbed Duncan by the hand and pulled him out of the training circle. "C'mon, let's go see Kel. He'll tell you the same thing. Marzo's weird, but otherwise harmless."

…

Keldor was bent over a desk in the King's study when Randor burst in. Shirtless, sweaty, his sword in one hand, dragging his friend, Captain Duncan, behind him with the other hand.

"Is there an emergency?" Was Keldor's first thought.

"No." Randor looked genuinely confused. Then looked down at his appearance. Having very clearly just dropped everything and come from the training yard. Not even having bothered to shower, change, or even clean and sheath his weapon. "Oh."

With a sigh, Keldor waved to a page who had been waiting attentively to file whatever documents the Prince was reading over in his capacity filling in for the King. The page, another human, with sandy brown hair cut into a pageboy style came up to the desk, eager to serve.

"Fetch a robe for my brother." He commanded. The last thing any of them needed was another one of them getting sick and becoming bedridden. "Did you need something?"

Randor faltered for a moment. Suddenly, what he was dashing up here to ask didn't seem all that important. Of course Keldor loved Eternia. Look how hard he was working for Eternia. Making sure the government still functioned and everything that needed to get done got done while the current King recovered.

"Nothing." Randor finally shook his head.

Next to him, Duncan sighed.

Keldor only lifted one perfectly trimmed and shaped eyebrow.

"It's just, I was just talking to Marzo, and he said somethings that made me wanna come talk to you." Randor tried to explain. "But now it doesn't seem quite as pressing as it did at the time."

"Marzo has a way of making everything that comes out of his mouth seem important." Keldor informed him, lowering his eyes back to the documents he had previously been reading. Returning to work was about as clear a sign that Randor was dismissed as Keldor was going to give.

Duncan took the hint. He bowed to both Princes and left the room, just like Keldor wanted.

But Randor didn't move. A thought had occurred to him, completely unrelated to what they were just talking about.

Randor came around to sit on the edge of the desk, displacing some papers and earning him an acid look from his brother. "Hey, Kel…"

"What?" Now Keldor's tone was annoyed. He was busy. Trying to run the planet. It was not simple work and it needed one's full attention.

"Marzo's father's best friend, right?" Began Randor, talking through his thought process as it was happening in his head. "They fought together in all the same battles, defeated all the same enemies, he's in all of father's stories."

"Yeah…?" Keldor really just wanted to know where his brother was going with this so he could finish whatever he was trying to say and get out.

Unless Randor wanted to help with the administrated aspects of ruling a planet, which Keldor greatly doubted he did. Randor was not the studious type. Reading and paperwork were not activities he had much attention for.

"Well, how come father got old and Marzo didn't?" Randor finally finished his thought.

"Marzo's a sorcerer." Keldor reminded him, as if this should have been obvious. "He uses his magic to sustain his life and keep his youth. It's higher-level magic, not all sorcerers can do it. Marzo is clearly very powerful since he can. He might even have a powerful artifact, and use its power to sustain himself to conserve his own. There's more than one powerful artifact on Eternia. Probably more than one that can sustain youth or restore health…"

He trailed off as a thought occurred to him now.

Keldor bolted to his feet. Suddenly feeling the pressing need to do research.

Randor also stood, assuming he had upset his brother in some way and braced himself to be kicked out of the room.

But then all Keldor did was look back down at the desk and all the paperwork still strewn across it.

Keldor sat back down. "I need to finish this."

…

The next day, however, Randor was pulled from his bed by a hand closing around his ankle and yanking him off the mattress.

He was still half asleep when his butt hit the floor with a THUNK that was more painful than it was loud. Massaging his tailbone, Randor blinked sleep-clouded eyes up at a blue face. It took him far too long to recognize it at his brother waking him up in early hours of the morning. So early, it was still a little dark outside. The sun was just peaking up over the horizon.

"Kel?" He groaned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Keldor informed him, sounding about as manic as he looked.

And he did look manic.

Keldor was wearing the same clothes from the previous day, his tunic was wrinkled and rumpled in a way that implied he was bent over a desk working all night. There were dark circles under his eyes that even the jewel-tone blue of his skin couldn't conceal, and several strands of his hair had flown free from his knot and frizzed out the sides of his head.

In short, Keldor looked a mess. Which meant that something had to be wrong, because Keldor never looked a mess.

Randor just continued to stare at him. It was too early in the morning for this. He could not be expected to just 'figure things out'.

"I have the answer." Keldor began an explanation without having to be asked, much to Randor's relief. "Actually, you gave me the answer when we were talking about Marzo. Eternia is full of magical artifacts that can reserve youth, prolong life, or restore health. I'm gonna find one, and I'm gonna use it to heal father."

Keldor leaned down and offered his brother a hand up.

But the moment Randor was on his feet, he was not given a moment to collect himself. Or even to change out of his sleep clothes (which was little more than a loincloth and socks). Still holding his brother's hand, Keldor pulled Randor from his champers and dragged him out of the residential wing of the palace to the business floors. Arriving back in the office.

There were a number of pages awaiting instructions ready and lined up behind the desk and Randor was keenly aware of how exposed he was.

But Keldor seemed not to notice. He dragged Randor over to the desk and started explaining… whatever he dragged Randor out of bed for.

"I know you can handle audiences on your own. You've been sitting in on audiences with me since father started to decline. But sitting on the throne is the least important part of being King. Here," Keldor laid a single sheet of paper in the center of the desk. It appeared to be a colorful grid chart. "I made a cheat-sheet for you since I know you won't remember. But let me explain. Treasury documents are marked with gold, the treasury stuff is most important, so it needs to be handled very carefully. Do no deal with them if you're distracted and do not sign anything if you don't understand it. The treasury is how we pay for everything we do. Agricultural figures are marked in green. Most of the tithes the crown collects are in food stuffs, not money, so this is how the treasury is filled. We can mint as many coins as we needs, but the foodstuffs are the tangible wealth those coins represent.-"

"Why are you telling me this?" Randor cut him off before his brother could continue. He knew how the government ran. He grew up in it.

Keldor sighed. "I know paperwork and sitting for a long time isn't your thing, that's why I tried to set up a system to make it as easy for you as possible." He answered with what he probably thought was an explanation. "I even wrote up a schedule that includes frequent breaks for you to climb on the desk or do cartwheels into the walls if you need to. I also made you this-" he pulled Randor over to pitcher on a side table and poured out a mug of some hot brown liquid, "-it's a potion that will keep you awake and help you focus. It is bitter, though, so you'll want to add cream and sugar." He pressed the hot mug into Randor's hands. "Now, municipal projects are marked in blue. They're a lower priority and can wait until I get back. But if you wanna knock any off the desk for me, I'll appreciate it."

"Get back?" Randor echoed. "You're going somewhere?"

"I already told you." Keldor sounded so impatient, he wanted to get back to explaining his new color-coded filing system. "I'm going to find a magical artifact to heal father. While I'm gone, someone still has to keep running the planet. With father ill, and me gone on a quest, that duty falls to you. This is how the line of succession works, Ran."

Maybe it was because Randor was still half asleep, but for some reason, his mind just was not processing all of this. "Shouldn't I be the one to go out on a quest for a magical item?"

"Do you know anything about magic?" Keldor asked, now maybe a little insulted.

Keldor was an actual sorcerer. He studied sorcery as diligently as Randor studied his blade. His magic was as neat and polished as Randor's training-circle kata. And he studied more magic in his free time. As a hobby. Keldor did homework to relax. He even drafted his own spell concepts. Randor could go out searching the planet for magical artifacts. But he wouldn't know if whatever he found was what he was looking for.

"I'll go." Keldor nodded, seeing it on his brother's face the moment he comprehended why it had to be Keldor. "I did some research last night and I have a list. I've already planned the most efficient rout. My quest is not what I'm worried about. I need to make sure you can rule in my stead while I'm gone. I don't wanna find something to save father only to come home and find the whole monarchy collapsed."

"I can keep the monarchy from collapsing." Randor assured him.

"Good." Keldor nodded. Then he pulled his younger brother into a hug. "And when I get back, I promise you'll never have to play King again. Being King is meant for me, not you."

…