SEVEN - Xanthus VIII

King Xanthus deals with the aftermath of the latest exiling ceremony and doles out punishment to those who have failed him.

Zultan and Castiel nodded, bowed, and left the Throne Room.  Their meeting had been quick, and hopefully the two of them would return soon with news that they accomplished their mission.  Until then, Xanthus needed to pay a visit to Willoughby.

Atherton was likely being herded through the city streets at this very moment, and if Xanthus knew anything about the people in Xantom, they were becoming angrier with him.

They blame me for everything, but they never attempt to do anything for themselves.  If they don’t have food, they don’t go out and find it on their own, they wait for me to send out a hunt and get it for them.  It’s pathetic.  And now they’re going to say it’s my fault that there were two exiles in one day.  I’m punishing the guilty and yet I get all of the blame.

He walked, alone, down the hallway.  These little moments of silence were the only times he truly felt like himself.  Between the meetings with his Guard, the delegation of tasks, and doling out every punishment for every crime in the city, his days were full of being a role model.  And he despised every minute of it.  When he reached the door leading into Willoughby’s Chamber, he paused, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

“Willoughby,” he called out into the darkness.  “Where are you?”

Another door opened in the back of the room, the door that led into the Healer’s Room.  Willoughby stepped into the room.  He was a lot older than Xanthus.  The years since Xanthus VII’s death had taken their toll on the man.  He walked slowly, hunched over, carrying the weight of the city on his back.  When he saw that Xanthus was in the room, he jumped in shock.

“Xanthus.  I had no idea you were coming to see me, Sir.”

“I wanted to check on the city supplies.  How long do we have until we run out?”

“Maybe two weeks, Sir.  Maybe a little more, maybe a little less.  It all depends on how much we use.  I’d say if we were completely conservative, we could last a month.  But you know how people are out there.  They don’t like to hear that they have to hold back on using their wood and oil.”

How did it get this bad?

“What about food?”

“We need to send out a Hunt tomorrow if we want to last another week.  Hopefully they come back with a Bareland Beast or two, but they’ve been coming back with less and less, and even more of them are dying.”

“The more of them that die, the less mouths we have to feed.”

“That’s true, Sir.”

“We need to come up with a way to survive without relying on those supplies.  There has to be something else we can do.”

“Honestly, Sir, we should have been doing that months ago.”

Everyone’s a critic.  Even my top advisor blames me for the state of things.

“And you could have told me months ago that we needed to.”

“I did, Sir.  I’ve brought it up at every council meeting but you always tabled the discussion for when things were more… urgent.”

I guess he’s right.  But things never used to be a problem.  When I was younger, when I first came into power, things were always so easy…

“We’ll hold a meeting today.  After the Exiling Ceremony is over, call everyone into the Throne Room.  Bring out the table.  We’ll get everything sorted out.”

“Absolutely, Sir.  As you command.”

“How is Quintessa’s son?”

“I’m still running my tests.  At the moment the child seems perfectly fine.  I can’t seem to find anything wrong with him.”

Xanthus sighed.  Of course there’s nothing wrong with him… We were being played.  “Quintessa lied to us.  Her son was never sick...  She told us that so we wouldn’t execute her for murder.”

“Why would she bother?  Why try to get into the city in the first place?”

“I have no idea.  But it can’t have been anything good.”

“Do you want me to keep examining the boy?”

The door opened behind Xanthus.  He turned to see Silvan standing in the doorway.

“Perfect timing.  No, don’t bother.  I’m sure the boy is fine.”  He turned to Silvan.  “You’re going to return this child to his father in the Outskirts.  We don’t have much more information than that, but you know them there.  Ask a few questions and find out who he belongs to.  And later, there’s going to be a council meeting in the Throne Room.  I want you to report on public opinion around the fact that we held two Exiling Ceremonies today.  Keep an ear to the ground, find out what you can.”

“Right away, Sir,” Silvan said.

“I’m headed back to the Throne Room.  With any luck, Vanderford will be back with the Guard who let Atherton slip by earlier.  Willoughby, give Silvan the child.”

And with that quick command, he spun and walked out of the room.  And if I have to deal with one more person sneaking into the city, murdering someone, or lying to me today, I’m going to snap someone’s neck.  It’s hard enough trying to figure out what to do about the supply problem without all this other nonsense getting in my way.

He stepped back into the Throne Room and was relieved to find that Vanderford wasn’t back yet.  He sat in the High Chair and inhaled deeply.  Just then his stomach rumbled loudly.  I’m going to have to get something to eat after this.  At least there’s enough meat left for the King.

Vanderford, dragging a guard behind him, burst through the doors into the Throne Room.

“I’ve got him, Sir,” he said, “just as you commanded.”

“Good.  Bring him forward.”

Vanderford and the guard approached the High Chair.  They came to a stop just a few feet in front of him.  Vanderford shoved the guard to his knees and held him in place.  Xanthus looked down at the guard, who was looking at the ground.  How am I supposed to respect you if you can’t even look me in the eyes?

“Look at me, guard.  Tell me your name.”

“It’s Mordecai, Sir,” the guard spoke softly.  There was an obnoxious quiver in his voice.  There’s no chance this man is innocent.

“Mordecai.  Do you know why you were brought before me today?”

“Yes, S-Sir.  V-Vanderford explained it to me.  He s-said that�"”

I’ve had about enough of this.  “That you are being charged with allowing a young boy to break the law, directly leading to a second Exiling Ceremony today.”  There was silence while Mordecai sniffled loudly.  “How did you ever manage to become a guard?  You can barely speak, you’re practically crying here in front of me.  If you can’t speak to your King, how could you ever tell a person ‘no’?  It’s no wonder you let the boy through.  You were probably too busy stammering to stop him.”

“I n-never let anyone through, Sir.”

“You are aware that it is illegal to allow an underage person to enter the city without a guardian, right?”

“Yes, but I didn’t�"”

“Yet Atherton still managed to get into the city, even though you were standing guard at the time.  He said you let him through.  Why would he say that if it weren’t true?”

“I don’t know, Sir.  There must have been another w-way.”

“Mordecai, how long have you been a guard?”

“Two w-weeks, Sir.”

“And you guarded the wall?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And in your two weeks of service, did you ever see any place on the wall where someone may be able to sneak past the guards without them knowing about it?  Are there any entrances on the wall that aren’t guarded at all times?”

“No, Sir.”

“And you were the guard on duty when Atherton managed to get into the city.”

“Yes, Sir, but I never let him through.  Nobody attempted to get into the city while I was on duty.  It was just me the whole�"”

“I’ve heard enough.  Vanderford, execute him.”

Vanderford hesitated.  “Doesn’t he get a choice?  Can’t it be Exile?”

“Are you implying that we have a third Ceremony today?  We’ve had two before second meal and you’re saying that we should have another?”

“Maybe we skip the Ceremony, Sir.  I didn’t mean that we should… I just meant that he should have a choice.  He didn’t kill anyone.”

“No, he didn’t.  Not directly.  But you go out into the city right now and you tell me whether people feel content with the fact that we held two Exiling Ceremonies on the same day.  You tell me if they’re on edge because we’re running low on supplies and food.  Tell me whether they’re about to snap and start murdering each other at the slightest sign of trouble.  And then tell me whether or not this man made it worse by allowing a criminal to breach the City Gate.”

“I’m not arguing with you, Sir, I just think that it’s fair if we�"”

“It certainly sounds like you’re arguing with me.  I’m telling you to Execute Mordecai, and you’re saying we should give him a choice.  As the King, I’m ordering you to obey me.  And if you don’t, I’ll execute you as well.  And as the King, I have the power to do so.  So what’s fair would be if I killed you both, because you’ve both inconvenienced me today.  Would you like that option better, Vanderford?  Would your sense of honor remain intact?”

Their eyes locked for a long time.  I know you hate me right now.  I can see it in your eyes.  But you’re not going to do anything about it.

His eyes still pouring hatred, Vanderford drew his sword and raised it above Mordecai’s head.  “Lean forward,” he said.  Mordecai began sobbing, but did as he was told.  “I’m sorry I have to do this,” he said, then swung the sword down and in one clean motion, Mordecai’s head was removed from his body.

“Thank you,” Xanthus said.  “Was that so hard?”

Vanderford simply wiped the blood off his blade and sheathed it.  “Do you need me to clean it up for you as well?”

“If you don’t mind,” Xanthus said.  He stood up and made a point to step directly over Mordecai’s lifeless body as he exited.  “I’m going to grab a bite to eat and speak to my wife about our new children.”

Vanderford didn’t say another word as Xanthus exited the Throne Room, leaving him inside.