Part 1 Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

 

 

W

ith Olraym’s return to Tov’ra Sertia knows she will have to act fast. There are a few supporters of Thorne and would love the idea of him on the throne. Chief among them is Lord Wazilli, head of the Tov’ra city guards. He has supported Thorne for years, especially after Olraym left for the Tervunmal Islands. He is an old man, his hair all white, his body stiff and wrinkled with age. Everyone thinks he is on his way to his end.

  With Kaila’s help Sertia gets a message to him, for him to see her in his office near the guards’ barracks. He obviously accepts with enthusiasm and later after she makes herself look good with her hair up and a long silk green dress she walks to his office holding a bottle of fermented wine in her hands. On her way through the barracks she gets a surprised eye and a quick bow from city guards she passes. Once she passes them she hears whispers between them, wondering why she is in the barracks and where she is going. At some of the hurried bows she cannot help but laugh as they knock over tables and spill their drinks as they stand to bow.

  When she reaches his office she knocks and opens the door. The inside is semi-large room cluttered with rolls of paper, racks of swords and small cupboards. The centre of the room is occupied by a table with a single chair: black leather, arm rests are wide and long and the legs are thick and short. Opposite the leather chair is a wooden stool, it is lower to the ground than the chair. It is old and scratches, one of the legs is shorter than the others making it wobble. It makes whoever sits on it feel small and powerless.

  On the table is a detailed map of Tov’ra. It is large taking up almost the entire table. Each sector of Tov’ra is labelled and three of these labels have a red ‘X’ below them, the X’s represent where crimes happen most in the city.

  Despite the dishevelled look of the office Sertia knows he has cleaned up since Kaila gave him the message of the meeting.

  Sitting that chair is Lord Wazilli. The man is chubby, his belly starting to hang over his legs. His neck is bloated, looking almost like a second chin. His arms and legs look as if they are about to tear out of his restrictive uniform.

  “Why am I due this sudden meeting your Highness?”

  “Do I need a reason?”

  “Not at all, I am just curious.”

  “I am here to celebrate.” She lifts up her hands to show the bottle.

  She smiles at him and he smiles back, licking his lips when he sees the bottle. He stands up and offers his leather chair, Sertia takes it and he moves around the table to the small stool. Due to his size there is no feeling of smallness when he sits.

  She grabs two cups and fills them both up and hands one to him. They clink their cup together.

  “Let us celebrate to the return of my brother… and the security of Tov’ra.”

  Sertia watches Wazilli drink his cup down in one gulp. Though he doesn’t see she doesn’t take a sip from her cup, just lets it sit on the table on the edge of the map. He coughs and bangs his chest.

  “Do you truly believe Prince Olraym will bring prosperity to Tov’ra?”

  “Yes I do, don’t you?”

  “Forgive me My Lady, but I believe Prince Thorne is the wiser choice.”

  She nods as if understanding.

  “Well luckily you don’t have to worry.”

  She smiles at his confused look. He is about to stand when he starts coughing again, it quickly turns to choking and he grabs at his throat as if that would help. He looks to Sertia for help but sees on her smile and knows she has caused this. He jumps from the stool and reaches out for her but she dives out of his way. He crashes against the table and rolls over the side, it isn’t too loud but Sertia fears someone will come and discover this.

  His choking gets worse, he is unable to breathe in much and what does go in sounds like small shallow wheezes. Foam starts coming from his mouth, what little breathes he can get in suddenly stop. Sertia can hear him gurgling; the sound is barely audible but she can hear it sounding wet.

  Centuries of moments passes and lord Wazilli finally stops moving. Sertia waits a little longer in case he is still alive, but he isn’t. Sertia empties and cleans the cup she filled for herself the puts it back where it came from, then does the same for the other one. She tidies up the table, cleans the foam from his mouth then grabs the bottle and walks out.

  She gets the same looks and bows from guards as before. She arrives back at the castle in good time then acts as if she has been there this whole time.

  Lord Wazilli’s body is found two hours later when a young city guard enters after knocking for a full minute. Upon seeing Wazilli the guard screams a girlish scream and vomits just outside the office before anyone else can rush to see. When others do come and find the body they all shout out about it, soon all the guards in the barracks know about his death. Soon after that everyone in the castle does.

  Sertia pretends to be shocked at his death along with everyone else, but she is anxious to know how they all think he died. Most of them in the castle guess it to be a natural death due to old age. But there are some with ridiculous ideas that he was murdered, Sertia stiffens whenever she hears of these rumours and leaves whatever room she is in.

  Soon everyone says it was a natural death and both Sertia and Kaila relax. Those close to Wazilli demand action at first but later concede and desire a good burial which Moira grants. Thorne doesn’t believe his death is anything but natural just like everyone else.

  Sertia is in the free and clear. The biggest opposition she has, the biggest opposition Olraym has is now dead.

 

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Thorne doesn’t have to wait long for Gremborlin’s death. By the following night while Moira prepares for sleep, glancing to Gremborlin every so often.  He is awake still and is takes quick breaths, although they are more like short and desperate gulps of air and then falters, his eyes widen in shock, pain, and a little bit of fear and then finally he stops moving all together. At first Moira doesn’t notice his peaceful death. She just finishes putting on her night-gown and relaxes her hair, then stands and walks to the bed. She leans down to him, places her hand gently on his chest and gives him a kiss on the forehead. As she straightens she notices Gremborlin’s stillness so she gives him a gentle shake. He gives no reaction so she shakes harder; getting scared when again he gives no reaction. She runs to the door, forces it open with all her might, screams for help then returns to Gremborlin’s side without waiting.

  Within moments soldiers and servants all who heard Moira’s screams come rushing into the bed chamber fining their king dead. Some try to help, thinking they can cheat death for the king, the rest just stand watching, shock overfilling their minds.

  Later Olraym, Sertia and Thorne arrived after being hastily informed. Thorne stays with the crowd, a careful look on him. Olraym and Sertia are both sad like everyone else; Olraym not just for the loss of his father but the knowledge of what may come next.

  After what feels like an eternity to Olraym the spectators around them begin to leave, giving their condolences as they go, until only the royal family is left. Moira is stroking her husband’s hair, staring at him as if he is the only thing she can see. Sertia is doing her best to comfort her mother while Olraym is pacing slowly across the room. There is a sudden knock at the door. Thorne, who has not moved since he entered, opens it to reveal four royal knights carrying a long wooden board between them. Thorne moves out of the way and the four royal knights enter with the wooden plank. Olraym notices them and stops pacing, his face solemn and resigned. Sertia too notices them, stands, and gently guides her mother out the way. Moira doesn’t struggle, as if she doesn’t notice what is happening around her. The guards spilt in half with two going to left side of the bed and two to the right. They slowly methodically remove the bed sheets, fold them, then place them on the floor at the foot of the bed, and then they carefully slide the wooden board underneath King Gremborlin. Once the board is completely under the king, the four royal knights give a silent three-count then with one hand they lift the board high off the bed. They give Moira a small bow at the head and walk out with the king, no words spoken, no words needed.

  Thorne watches them go then closes the door.

 

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The four royal knights take King Gremborlin deep into the castle, into a dark stone room. The room is Spartan, with only a tall stone block in the centre. It is dimly lit with only one torch next to the door. There is no sound within the room and only the smell of burning wood of the torch. In a far corner out of the way is a set of fine white robes, a water-filled bucket and a wash cloth.

   There is another guard standing next to the room’s entrance, he opens the door as he sees them, enters, and takes a hold of the single torch. The torch, coupled with the light from outside the room, give it an almost calming sense.

  The four enter the room, nodding at the fifth, and place their king on the stone block. Then one by one they leave with the last to leave closing the door, until the fifth is the only remaining one. He stares at the king for a lifetime of a moment then places the torch back in its cradle and then gets to work. He cleans and undresses Gremborlin with experienced hands then redresses him in the white robes.

  When he is done he too leaves, he locks the door with a heavy metallic sound reverberating across the long halls. He stands next to the door in an authoritative stance.

  Later two maidens carrying baskets enter the room. They have their dark hair in tight buns and are wearing simple dark dresses that go over one shoulder. Under the eye of the torch’s dancing light they ritualistically circle Gremborlin, every three steps they reach into their baskets and shower him with flower petals in a multitude of colours. When they finish and leave the room is eerily silent, the sounds outside the room sounding heavier somehow and strangely as if they are far away. The fire of the torch mocks the dead king with its lively dance.

  No one else enters until the following morning.

 

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Of course the royal family is the first to arrive at early sunrise. The only one to get any good sleep is Thorne the rest all look too tired to stand and have bags under their eyes. In the early hours the city is informed of Gremborlin’s death. It doesn’t take long for the city’s people to start mourning. Soon after Moira, Sertia, Thorne and Olraym weep over his corpse others appear; people of power and wealth, friends, trusted advisors. The highest of the high, it looks to Olraym a mirror of the moments in his parents’ bed chamber. After that people on the low side of the spectrum appear; farmers and traders, blacksmiths and tavern owners. There are moments when those on the high side glower at the sight of those on the low. But nothing more comes of it; they are all there for the same reason, nothing more.

  Occasionally one or two shuffle silently through the crowd and go alone or together in a small group to the body and place a flower petal similar to the maidens from before onto his chest.

  Hours later the crowd slowly leaves piece by piece in the opposite way they came in, first the soldiers and advisors leave, some taking maidens and castle servants with them, then the high societies and finally the lows.  When Olraym finally leaves he looks around and realises most of the day is already gone and the sun is on its way down.  He then realises he is tired and hungry, so he finds the nearest servant and asks him to bring some food to his room. The servant nods and quickly leaves while Olraym returns to his room.

  It takes just under ten minutes for the servant to bring food on a silver tray to Olraym in his room and another four minutes for Olraym to eat it. When the cooks made the food for Olraym they took care and made sure it would be delicious for Olraym, but as he eats it he tastes nothing, his mind wandering madly through the events of the past few days. No matter how much he tries, and he tries hard, he cannot seem to accept his father’s death.

  He tries and fails to sleep the rest of the day away. Just lies on his bed, his eyes closed but his mind refusing to follow by example.

  The funeral the next day is done mainly in the city’s main square north-west of the castle. The main square is a place where all manner of business is conducted. Open meetings between important or semi-important people, discussions between scholars and historians about their beliefs on what happened centuries ago and of course royal funerals. During the funeral of King Gremborlin hundreds if not thousands of tears fell to the ground from those that witness the act. The king, now in an embroidered coffin, is lying on the northern side of the square. His coffin is surrounded by flowers and is weakly shielded from the sun by a small version of the city’s flag. The ceremony begins with kind words from priests and well-respected men being shouted out at the top of their lungs, this goes on for at least an hour, and then it moves to the singing portion. This is done by everybody; they sing a song about the glory of past kings, about the peace brokered long ago in a legend barely believed in anymore, about the beauty of the city Tov’ra itself. The singing reverberates off nearby walls making every lyric of the song louder than some thought it needed to be.

  Near the end of the song several people, Olraym and Thorne included, take hold of the coffin, and lift it to shoulder height. The crowd, while still singing, parts to let them pass. The pace of the pall bearers is slow, having to wait for the path to clear, but steady all the same. Those closest to the king (i.e. the royal family and his closest friends) follow close behind the coffin. By the time they reach the edge of the square the song finally stops.

  The pall bearers take the coffin far, almost to the other side of the city, with what appears to be the entire city following them. They enter a huge square building partially separated from other buildings by a high concrete fence several feet from the actual building. There is a black entrance metal gate at the front of the concrete fence; it is wide open at the moment, allowing the pall bearers and only the pall bearers to enter. The building is the royal family mausoleum, going not only twenty storeys up but twenty storey’s down as well. It is one of the largest buildings in the city, second only the castle. Every few feet there is an arch that contains a statue, all of different kings in an array of poses. The statues like the building seem both old and, due to it being well maintained, brand new. All together the outside of the mausoleum is rather morbid despite attempts to the contrary.

  The inside of the mausoleum is worse than the outside. To some it is a more true portrayal of the reason for the building’s existence. The halls are wide to allow those carrying coffins to walk through with as little trouble as possible but the ceilings are low. Along each hall are sets of doors; ten or eleven depending on the halls’ length and on both sides. On all the doors is a plaque, small with the letters taking up all the space, depicting the name of the room’s eternal occupier. Great kings, kings known by children in stories they are told by their parents, kings from myths and legends, they all rest in the mausoleum.

  The six pall bearers turn right as soon as they enter and move to a staircase, they go up step-by-step two flights of stairs with Olraym, Thorne, and the rest struggling to keep hold of the coffin in the sudden angle change.  They have some near-misses but not anything damaging to them or the coffin.

  When they reach the floor they need they go right to the first door they see. This door is different in that the plaque has no name on it. There are two men in thick black robes standing at the door; they push it wide open at the sight of the pall bearers. The room inside is small; there is a small rectangular hole on the far wall bathing the room in a clod light. The walls are bare and rough. There is a stone tomb in the centre; it, like the plaque on the door, is bare. The six of them squeeze into the room around the stone tomb then they gently lower the coffin next to the tomb. They then open the coffin, revealing the king lying peacefully inside; three of them take hold of him and lift while the other three push the tomb open with all their might. It opens with a mighty groan, ancient dust blows from it like a giant breath being exhaled. They lower Gremborlin into the tomb, having to bend forward in order to get him to the bottom without dropping him. They seal up the tomb and leave, the men in robes carving ‘King Gremborlin’ and his years, from birth to death, into the plaque on the door.

  They leave the mausoleum and notice the incredible silence around them: no one in the crowd dares to make any noise, as if making some would crack the world around them. The silence is broken by the priests in their colourful robes chanting their farewell prayers, hoping Gremborlin finds peace.

  After the funeral is over and the priests say their prayers every one leaves. Olraym, not wanting to be there longer than he has to be, gives Sertia and Moira a kiss on the cheek and leaves with them.

  Thorne leaves the crowd before anyone else, slipping away unnoticed. He doesn’t see the point in staying, Gremborlin is dead and now in his tomb, what else is there to do? He quickly finds Dunarn, who was not at the funeral, and gives him the signal.