Cost of a Crown (Book 1)
Two Brothers
Chapter Four: New to the Throne
Keldor had been gone for what… two… three days? How did he make this look so easy? How did he keep the piles of papers on the desk so low that Randor didn't really even notice their movement? Keldor was some kind of machine!
He had been gone two or three days, Randor wasn't even sure, he had no concept of time, and already the stacks of documents on the desk were as tall as he was. It seemed like in the time it took Randor to read over one document, the pages deposited six more on the desk. He always did have trouble concentrating and was a slow reader because of it. The bitter potion Keldor made for him (and taught the pages to continue making so that he would always have a fresh hot pot ready) did help with keeping him awake, and even with the focusing problem a little bit. But it did not magically turn Randor into a paperwork guy.
The door to the office opened and Duncan poked his head in.
Randor was just barely visible behind all the work that had piled up on the desk. Bent over whatever document he was trying to focus on. His mop of rich brown hair the only part of him that could be seen from the doorframe.
"Are you coming?" Duncan asked.
"Huh?" Randor looked up at his friend. "Coming where?"
"Royal Audiences." Duncan reminded him. "The petitioners have already arrived. There's a bit of a crowd waiting for you in the throne room."
"Audiences aren't until mid-day." Randor blinked at him.
Duncan's only response was to glance at the time peace on the wall.
Randor followed his eyes. It was mid-day. Randor catapulted out from behind the desk. He was late! Seriously, how did Keldor do this!? Keldor was never late and he always knew what time it was, where he needed to be, and what he was doing. Randor sprinted through the corridors of the palace, heading for the throne room.
Duncan grabbed him just before he reached the small door that would let him out behind the dais. "Hang on."
He smoothed out Randor's hair and tried to adjust his clothing so that the tunic draped right and didn't look bunch or rumpled like he's just been hunched over a desk for the past five hours. When Duncan was done, Randor still didn't look as statuesque and perfect as Keldor always managed to look. But he at least looked presentable.
"Okay, better."
Taking a breath to steady his nerves, this would be the first time Randor would host audiences on his own, he stepped out into the throne room. Made eye-contact with no one as he came around to sit in his ostentatious chair next to the empty throne, and sat down, trying to keep his back strait.
Randor cleared his throat. "Does anyone have a matter they wish to bring before the throne?"
Duncan came around and took up a guard position at the foot of the dais stairs. As a palace guard, ever a Captain of the guard, Duncan couldn't help Randor with the audiences themselves. He did not have the authority to make decisions or rulings in matters of disputes. But his presence was reassuring. Randor just felt better when Duncan was around. When old Dekker retired, Randor was definitely going to recommend him for the Man-at-Arms position.
"If you have business to bring before the throne, come forward and state your name and the matter you wish to discuss." Duncan's voice was so much louder than Randor's. He knew how to project. Shouting orders for subordinates taught one how to use their voice without over-using their voice. Duncan was good at it.
At the moment, Randor felt like he was good at nothing. Keldor was a better administrator than him, and Duncan was a better public speaker than him.
These were the reasons why Randor was not going to be King.
Two men stepped forward, one of them with a child clinging close to them. The first was a human. The other, with the child, a Pelleezean; shaggy white fur and large amber eyes with small pupils. The child also a Pelleezean, presumably the man's offspring.
It was a land dispute.
The human owned one of the largest farms on the Fertile Plains, and was in fact the largest producer of grain that fed the capital city of Eternos. Recently, he had been expanding his patches into Pelleezean land. Tilling their soil and sewing his own seed, then fencing in the land when the grains sprouted. At first it was just a little bit. No more than a kilometer on the northern or eastern borders. But more recently, he was taking more and more of the Pelleezean land until the village was now beginning to question whether or not they had enough land to feed their own people now.
The Pelleezean came to Eternos to beg the throne's intervention in the matter. To protect the land the Pelleezean still controlled, and force the human farmer to return to them the land that was taken.
The human came to argue his position and defend his unsanctioned requisitioning of the land. "Eternos is the greatest city in the world." He said. "And I feed that city. Prince Randor, taking the land away from me is taking food out of your citizen's mouths!"
"And what of the food in my people's mouths?" Demanded the Pelleezean. He hugged his child closer to him. "Odiphus has had to divide more than one meal between himself and his siblings. And we are not the only family in the village that it rationing to make sure all of our children can eat! Next year it will be worse. Are we not also citizens under the throne of Eternos?"
Randor really, really wished Keldor was here. Keldor would know exactly what to do. Keldor always knew what to do without even having to think about it.
Everyone was looking at him.
Intaking a breath, Randor opened his mouth to say something. Then thought better of it and closed his mouth again. But he was acting in place of the King, so they were expecting him to say something. He had to make some kind of ruling in the dispute. Why else would they bring their dispute before the throne? What was the point of being a ruler if he didn't rule?
"The Fertile Plains are the some of the richest lands on the planet." He began. "I'm sure there is more than enough land for everyone to grow everything they need. If Eternos' farms are taking up land to the east, can you not expand to the west?"
The human looked so smug. Prince Randor was taking his side.
The Pelleezean looked outright betrayed.
"Forgive me, Your Highness, but you seem ill informed about the landscape just outside this city." Announced the Pelleezean. "The land to the west, closer to the Gnarl Sea is hard and rocky, gnarled like the sea it borders. Difficult to farm, and will give little yield. It is true when you say that the Fertile Plains is some of the richest land on the planet -overall- but that does not mean that all the land of the plains is rich and fertile. If expanding into other areas was the solution, I would not be here before you today. We have tried farming to the west already and it has not worked."
Randor chewed his bottom lip.
"Forgive my asking, Your Highness," continued the Pelleezean, "but where is Prince Keldor? Does he not usually handle cases like this?"
Randor chewed his bottom lip even harder. "My brother has left on family business." He announced. "I will be filling in until he returns."
This sent a rumble of murmured questions through the crowd. Prince Keldor left? While his father lay in bed sick? When he was supposed to be ruling in Miro's stead. What 'family business' could Prince Keldor possibly have that wasn't already here in Eternos? Could he have been summoned by his mother? The anonymous Gar woman Miro refused to even name.
Duncan looked back at Randor sitting on the throne. He didn't have to say anything. Randor realized it the moment the muttering started. He said the wrong thing.
He should have just said that Keldor was 'unavailable'. It was technically true. And ambiguous enough so as not to create problems for Keldor in the future. The ones that called him 'pointy ear' behind his bad liked to use any excuse to say that Keldor would be an unfit King. Leading the city while Miro was ailing in bed would be prime ammunition for them. Even if Keldor had left for the express purpose of healing his father.
Randor rested his head in his hands. This was only his first audience, and he was already messing things up.
Straitening and clearing his throat, Randor tried to call for order.
He stood from the throne.
But he didn't have the same level of command over a room as his brother or father. No one quieted down for him.
Finally, Duncan banged his mace on the floor. The loud sound reverberating through the throne room and calling everyone's attention back to the throne, and the dais where Randor stood.
"Keldor is unavailable." Randor tried to begin again. "But perhaps you are right. He does usually handle matters such as this and I am inexperienced. I will reflect on your case before I make a final ruling."
This was not the answer the Pelleezean was hoping for.
At his side, the child tugged on his father's smock. "Is the King not gonna help us?"
"That is not the King." He hushed his son, then looked back up at Randor. "A King would not sit idle while families starved."
Randor was standing.
The human farmer continued to look smug.
"I'm not sitting idle; I'll be thinking about the case!" Randor insisted.
"What is there to think about?" Demanded the Pelleezean. "He has fenced us off from our own land and reaps it for himself while my people starve! There is a clear wrongful party here and all I ask is that you serve the justice your throne is meant to represent and make him give back the land so that my people can continue to live as we have lived for hundreds of years!"
"Your Highness, my farms feed your city." The human reminded him. "With the ever-booming population, I will need the extra land to continue to fulfill the city's needs." He paused, then turned a taunting eye to the Pelleezean and his son. "Of course, the Pelleezean people could always offer to come work for me and I would be more than happy to compensate them with all the food they could eat."
"Unbelievable!" Shouted the Pelleezean. "First you steal our land, now you wish to extort us to work it for you!"
"Enough!" Count Marzo appeared, seeming to just melt out of the crowd. "This is the Royal Throne Room of Eternos, not a Perpetuan marketplace! The Prince has said he will meditate on your complaint and bring you his ruling when he reaches a decision. That is the answer you have been given today. You should be dismissed. If that is a difficult concept for you, I'm sure our own Captain Duncan can escort you out."
Duncan looked back at Randor again, standing on the dais and looking so very lost. Duncan took his orders from the throne, not from Marzo. If Randor told him to escort the Pelleezean farmer and his son out of the throne room, then he would. But he would not take the command from the Count, no matter how lost and unsure Randor obviously was.
Randor hesitated a moment. He didn't know what to do.
Then he nodded. "Audiences are supposed to be open for everyone. We can't spend the whole day debating one case. Duncan, please escort them out and find them temporary lodging until I have rendered my decision."
Suppressing a sigh, Duncan nodded and stepped forward to walk the Pelleezean and his son out of the throne room.
"Don't bother with the lodgings." The Pelleezean snarled back up at the throne. "I can already see my village will find no justice here!"
He grabbed his son by the hand and stomped from the throne room.
Randor slumped back in his unnecessarily ornate chair, feeling like he'd handled everything about that situation wrong. He wished Keldor were here. Keldor would know what to do. Keldor always seemed to know what to do.
…
After the audiences Randor was still thinking much the same.
Keldor should really be here doing all this. Randor should have been the one to leave on the heroic quest. He was the better swordsman and the more expendable Prince. Keldor was indispensable.
Randor stirred cream into his bitter wake-up-and-focus potion, sipped it, then added two more spoonfuls of sugar. He could have had a page make his drink for him, but Randor needed to do something with his hands. Usually when he felt like this, he would go down to the training yard and work on his swordsmanship. But he just did not have that luxury right now.
Turning back around, Randor took one look at the desk and his heart sank. There were even more papers on it now than before the audiences. How did Keldor keep the stacks so low? How did Keldor read so fast, and be so decisive? How did Keldor rule? Randor was doing this for only just a few days and it was so hard!
He turned back around and added a third spoonful of sugar to his mug. For energy.
Randor was just sitting back down at the desk when Duncan walked in.
"The Pelleezeans have left the city." He announced.
"Oh." Randor felt oddly disappointed by that. "I know he was angry. I've never done this before, if he had just given me a little more time…" a sigh "At least Marzo had my back there when I was losing control of the room."
Duncan frowned, not liking a single word that just came out of his friend's mouth.
"It was a really easy call to make, Randor." Duncan told him flatly. "Someone was stealing land; the rightful owners of that land came to you to enforce the property borders. You should have made that guy give back everything he took from the Pelleezeans right then and there. Instead, you told them to wait. You basically told that Pelleezean that you didn't care about his village or his starving children."
"What? No!" Randor was horrified. "I care about all of Eternia's citizens! You think I should make the other farmer give the land back I'll make him give the land back! But what if Eternos starts to suffer shortages and scarcities because of it?"
"We won't." Duncan assured him. "Every year King and your brother put aside a portion of the harvest in dry storage in case of droughts or blights. The city is taken care of. Smaller villages and townships that don't have our large storage facilities do not have the same luxury. I'm more concerned that that wasn't your decision from the start! That should have been the decision you made in the throne room. It's not that hard to think about."
"I'm still new to this!" Randor reminded him. Keldor handled all the audiences. And before him father took care of everything. All Randor ever had to do was show up to official functions and look presentable.
"You have been sitting in on audiences with your brother since the King began to decline!" Duncan reminded him. "You are not new to this, you're just nervous and second-guessing your own judgment. You can't afford to do that."
"It's not like I'm going to be King!" Randor snapped.
"Well, you might be!" Duncan argued back. "If your father never recovers, and Keldor never returns from his quest, you will be King of Eternia. For your sake, I hope this is just temporary, but you still need to take this seriously and take charge. Be King while your father and brother can't."
"Why are you riding me so hard about this?" Randor demanded. He slammed his mug down on the desk, splashing creamy brown liquid all over his paperwork. "I thought we were friends!"
"We are friends!" Duncan roared. "That's why I'm so concerned. Do you know what's going to happen now? That Pelleezean is going to go back home and tell his whole village that the throne of Eternos doesn't care about them. That the throne of Eternos did not uphold the justice they claimed to stand for. Maybe some of them might start to question why the throne of Eternos is even allowed to continue to rule when they have no interest in the people they rule over."
"But I do have an interest in them!" Randor continued to insist.
"Well, you didn't show it in the throne room today." Duncan informed him, taking a breath to regain his calm. A shouting match was not what he wanted. Randor was not good at being King right now because he was not trained to be a King. But Duncan believed in him. Over average, Randor was more approachable and friendly than Keldor. He made people around him feel comfortable (usually). He could be a good King. There was no doubt in Duncan's mind that Randor would be a good King.
Miro was a strong King.
Keldor would be a smart King.
Randor could be a kind King.
He just needed some coaching.
Randor flopped down in the chair behind the desk. "I don't know what I'm doing, Duncan."
"I know." Duncan came around the desk. He pulled a file crate over and sat on it like a stool. "I can tell you; I'd have no idea what I was doing either if I was told I had to fill in as King for an undetermined amount of time. But I didn't have your upbringing."
"I wonder if there's protocol in place for having someone sit in with me on audiences." Randor mused aloud. "Maybe Marzo since he was father's best friend."
"I would recommend Dekker instead." Duncan said quickly. He already told his friend that he did not like Count Marzo. Duncan explained. "Officially, Man-at-Arms holds a position closer to the crown than just a Count. Marzo has high standing because he's the King's best friend. But he does not have a high enough rank to merit advising the Prince who's filling in for the King."
Randor nodded, accepting this reasoning. "I'm glad I can confide in you that I need help."
Duncan reached over and took a sip of the wake-up-and-focus potion in Randor's mug. Quickly decided that it was too bitter for him and placed the mug back down. "I'm just glad you don't get all insulted and confrontational when I tell you, you need help."
Because they both agreed Randor couldn't be King on his own.
…
High above the planet, a ship was going down. It wasn't the kind of ship for traversing the seas and waters of Eternia, it was a ship for traversing the massive expanses of space between worlds and stars. A space ship, if you will.
Eternia had no space travel, and so this was a thing unheard-of on their world.
The ship was drawn into the system by the pull of Eternia's star, but it was the pull of the planet Eternia that drew the ship down. Crashing onto her southern continent in the Light Hemisphere.
The lone pilot of the space craft, knocked unconscious by the crash.
…