“I have sent one who can save them, but he can also bring
about their final destruction.
“You, my Guardians, must seek him out. Protect him and
ensure he is guided on the right paths.”
Alorn lifted his great, ruby-red head. “Tell us who is he,
Lord, that we may fulfill Your wishes.”
“I cannot reveal his identity…yet. Just know there are three
who need you now. My power will be seen in all, but only one will be the savior
in the end. However, all are needed to bring My Will about and they must all be
protected and nurtured.”
“How will we know them?” Stefano leaned forward.
“All will be children of Brandan or Joachim and they will
blend the lineage of the three races.”
“We know of Joachim’s children, but Brandan has none.”
“He has one, a half Mantion-half human child. Gorou is the
third and he will be the hardest to protect and nurture.”
“Why a child of Brandan?” Cielo asked. “Brandan has already
chosen the path of evil time and again. Would not a child of his be exposed to
that same evil?”
Excerpt II
Joachim cringed as he thought about what he had to do. The
council had decided. He didn’t agree completely, but in the end, Joachim knew
it was the only way; something had to be done. Maybe Brandan would give him a
reason not to send him away.
King Brandan stomped into the room. “Why, Brother, have you
no throne prepared for your poor, missing brother? I’m hurt. I expected more
from you and my sister-in-law. Maeve, dear, couldn’t you have helped him
prepare better?” He stepped toward her, quickly grabbed her hand, and kissed
it.
Joachim lunged at him, pushing him from the dais. Brandan
staggered then regained his balance and gazed at his brother. “Why such
violence, especially when I am so recently injured?”
Stepping off the dais, Joachim stood eye-to-eye with his
brother. “Enough! You’re no more hurt than I am. And you have no business
touching my wife, or sitting on Crato’s throne.”
Brandan laughed, pushed him aside, and stepped up to claim
his throne. Joachim grabbed his twin's shoulder, spun him around, and punched
him in the mouth.
Rubbing where Joa’s fist had landed, Brandan smirked. “Well,
my brother has finally developed some stones.” He raised his other hand to hit
Joachim.
Matthias stepped forward, sword in hand and grabbed his arm
before he could hit Crato's king. He pulled the king’s brother away, so Joachim
could reclaim his throne.
Jerking himself free, Brandan straightened his tunic. “This
has been fun; but as you seem to be in no mood to visit, I shall take my leave.
Come to me when you’re in a better frame of mind.”
“Stop! You are going nowhere until I say you can.”
Brandan stopped and looked at his brother. “What did you say
to me? Is that how you talk to a fellow king and brother?”
“Yes, it is. As of this morning, you are no longer a king,
and I’m not sure I should even call you brother.”
“Why dearest brother, whatever do you mean?” Brandan asked.
“Ever since we were boys, you have done everything you could
to make trouble. I was always willing to forgive you and hoped you would change
your evil ways. But no more! You have pushed me—pushed this country—too far
this time,” Joa thundered at him.
“What are you
rambling on about?” Brandan sneered and bit a fingernail.
“Brandan, I should sentence you to execution, but there are
two things keeping me from that. First: you are my brother, and I hold onto a
hope, however faint, you can be reformed…”
Brandan chortled. “Not a good bet, brother.”
“Second, I strongly suspect you of making two attempts on my
life. Unfortunately, I don’t have enough
evidence to prove it was you. I punished one innocent man because of the little
evidence we do have. I do not wish to make that mistake a second time.”
Brandan laughed again. “So, if we’re finished here, I’ll be
leaving.”
“As I said before, you won’t be going anywhere until I say
so. I may not have what I need to sentence you to death, but after your actions
toward the queen this morning, I have some recourse.”
“What are you talking about? I did nothing she didn't ask
for.”
Maeve rose from her throne. Joa put his hand on her arm to
stop her.
“Brandan, I suggest you remain quiet until I finish.”
“Brother, you do not have the authority to do this. We are
equals.”
“Do you not see the Adept Council before you? We met and
discussed this matter at length... They have given me the authority.”
“This tiresome group of old men?” Brandan laughed. “They
have even less power over me than you do.”
Ignoring Brandan’s comments, the king continued. “First, I
strip you of your title. You are no longer King Brandan but will henceforth be
known simply as Prince Brandan.” He paused and swallowed. He didn’t know if he
could continue. The lump in his throat felt as big as a koali fruit. He
swallowed again. Maeve grasped his hand. Warmth and reassurance enveloped him.
He knew what he had to do.
“When we have finished here, Rupert, Salochin, and Master
Frederick will take you to Rupert’s tower. There, they will strip you of your
magical powers. When they are finished, Matthias and Wilhelm will escort you to
the Port of Wyrzburg, where you will be put on a ship bound for Hyogo, the
prison island. There you will remain for the rest of your life. You are never
to return to Crato or Mahorg. You will live in the mountain abbey with the
monks and work side-by-side with them.”
“You’re a misguided fool.” Brandan sneered. “If you believe
that by exiling me, you are saving yourself from evil—think again. You may have
peace and rest comfortably for a short while, but don’t assume I won’t find a
way to come back and destroy you.” He stepped up to the thrones and leaned
forward, placing a hand on each. The guards on either side of the king stepped
forward to stop him. Joachim raised his hand signaling them to stop.
Brandan glared at the guard and muttered, “Freisen!” The man
froze where he stood.
Brandan turned back to his brother and sister-in-law. “No,
Joa. This is not over and what I did to your guard is nothing compared to the
evils you will suffer by my hand.”
While he was speaking, Rupert chanted a binding spell.
Matthias came forward and placed his sword tip to Brandan’s back.
The king put his good hand on his brother’s shoulders and
pushed him upright as he stood. “You have done enough! Matthias, escort him to
Master Rupert’s tower.”
As the prince was escorted
from the room, Joa slumped back into his throne. It was done, he thought as
remorse washed over him. A tear crawled down his cheek as Maeve squeezed his
hand.
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