Chapter 20: THE RESOLVE
Chapter 20
“King Kloar, I don't think Kael is a threat right now” A voice came through from the throne room.
***
The king prefers to be identified as King Kloar, not Alpha Kloar. A few years back, as a kid, when I asked him why, he would smile a one-side-curved smile, look into my eyes and his right hand and on my head.
He would shuffle my hair playfully and say “The older you get, son, the wiser you become. Victories make a good Alpha, but leaders make good Kings; you will understand when you get older.”
***
“he is just a mere boy with empty threats,” he continues. “You shouldn't take Kael's words to heart. He can do nothing.” I overheard one of the elders’ conversation. The voice sounds like that of Elder Ragnar. Rens' father.
Elder Ragnar is known for his remarkable wisdom, bestowed on him by the gods. A white-bearded beta in his mid-40s. He is known for his fighting skills when he was younger. But now, his wisdom, eloquent speaking, and advising Skills is a remarkable quality of him.
He wasn't known to be wise in his youth, but after the death of his wife, he suddenly started possessing deep wisdom.
It was rumored that long ago, after the birth of Ren, he strangled his mate to death and then sacrificed her tongue, eyes, and breast to the wicked witch in exchange for ‘Mantra,’ the spirit of wisdom. But there was no proof of it, so the rumors died off.
I paused at the entrance and laid low to hear more of their conversation.
“he should have been arrested the moment he stepped into the castle,” he said angrily. “Luckily for him, the law doesn't allow that. He will pay for taking away my son from me!!”
Elder Ambrose supports him “What he said is correct, King Kloar, the only threat at hand now is the Western Coast.”
The thought that the elders don't see Kael as a threat made me even more terrified; I bet they don't know who he came along with.
He continued, “We have gotten reports that the warriors we sent for a peace treaty over there were brutally slaughtered; I think it is time to give them what they asked for. Annihilate them for good and bring their remnant as slaves over here!!”
Elder Ambrose is a tight friend to Elder Ragnar; He is a man of few words, which makes many wonder how he manages to get along with Ragnar.
Rumors had it that, long ago, before he became among the councils, Queen Margaret, my mother, was his fated mate. But they collided with his friend Ragnar, and they framed Tira, Kael's Mother, and got her banished, and then persuaded the king to marry Margaret. So he would be among the councils.
They both seem to have a ruthless facet, which they always mask with their grey-headed face.
I shuffled myself, trying to look bold, I opened the large wooden door and stepped into the throne room, my heart pounding in my chest. The room was dimly lit, and the soft murmur of the council members' voices echoed.
As I walked towards the throne, the room fell silent, and all eyes turned to me. I could feel the weight of their gazes, like a physical force pressing down on me.
“Father, you called for me,” I said, trying to sound bold.
“Yes, I do, Commander Loren,” he replies. “We have seen the more important things that need your attention as the commander, and I have called you to order,” he continues as he readjusts himself on his throne with his scepter in his hand.
“Ok, father…” I said, nodding slightly. “...and what is it?”
His eyes narrowed on me and his expression stern. “Carlos reported to me about the slaughter of the warriors we sent for a peace treaty; I'm sure you are aware of that?” He asked, his gaze fixed on me.
What!! How could Carlos not report to me such a delicate matter, rather he told the king. Such matters should be reported to the king by the commander, not the assistant. Is Carlos envious of the commander position?
I was startled by the news but composed myself immediately. “Of course, your highness, I'm aware,” I lied.
“What have you decided to do about this?” He came through immediately.
“My decision on that is, as soon as we are done handling Kael's case, we would invade the—”
“That is a foolish decision, Loren,” I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen, his voice piercing like a sword. Father just called my decision a foolish one.
“This is what you must do,” he continued, his gaze fixed on me. “Mobilize the best wolf warriors, in seven days. I want the head of King Lurdbruke of Western Coast delivered to me, and its inhabitants should come to serve in our farms…Kael is not a threat to me,” he adjusts himself on his throne. “he is just a boy!” I could see a hint of fear on his face as he adjusted himself backward.
Amused by what the king had said, I cleared my throat. “Did you just say I should mobilize warriors to go attack Western Coast?”
“Yes,” he said, piercing his gaze on me. “Do you have any problem with that?”
How could the king be talking of attacking his enemy region, when the kingdom is on fire? They don't know the degree of what's happening.
I cannot go by his bidding; that would only make Kael's plan easier to achieve with my absence. By the time I was back from conquering the Western Coast, Kael would have been ruling the kingdom. No, I can't.
I kept my face low and my expression neutral, carefully selecting the words I used.
“Father, I don't have any problem with that…but” I paused, thinking of the repercussions of correcting the king.
“But what?” His voice came through a little higher.
Mustering courage, I raised my gaze into his. “Father, do you think it is even more foolish chasing a rat when your house is on fire?” I ask rhetorically.
Startled by my sudden boldness, their gaze swept over me like a wave of the sea, Remarkable shocks were etched on their faces.
There was total silence in the room; the only audible sound was the heavy breathing of the king as if my question still echoed in his mind. The unspoken tension hangs in the air, waiting to be broken.
After some minutes of tense silence, I decided to break the veil, “I would do as you have commanded, Your Highness. But I would suggest you rethink your decision again.” I took a deep breath, “in the absence of any further commands, permit me to take my leave…King Kloar.” I ended, gradually exiting the throne room, with all eyes fixed on me.
As I walked through the dimly lit corridors, It now dawned on me that this was the time to sacrifice an old life to get a new life. My mother's idea might be ruthless, but it's the only option to save this Kingdom.
As I entered my chambers, my eyes narrowed as I stared at the small, delicate bottle on the table. The poison inside seemed to gleam in the dim light of my chambers, a cold, calculating reminder of Mother's words.
"Sprinkle a little in his food, a little on his throne...All the witch needs are his Tongue and an eye"
My grip on the bottle tightened; my anger was fuming just below the surface. How could Mother even suggest such a cowardly act? Poisoning the king like a snake in the shadows?
With a sudden, fierce motion, I hurled the bottle against the stone wall. It shattered into a hundred pieces as the poison dripped down the wall like dark, viscous blood.
My chest heaved with rage as I turned away from the wreckage. I would not be a coward. I would not eliminate the king with poison.
I marched to the sword stand on the wall, my hand closing around the hilt of my favorite blade. The familiar weight of it in my hand was a comfort, a reminder of my strength and power.
I am beginning to love the beast Mum is turning me into. I would the king with steel, not poison. I bet it would make her love me more. He would face me, and I would look him in the eye and strike him down with honor.
***
The half-moon hung beautifully in the sky as the cold summer wind swept through the castle. An absolute silence on the whole Coast, indicating how deep the night has gone. This is the time to execute such atrocity.
I crept through the darkened corridors, my sword at the ready. My heart pounded in my chest, but I felt no fear. Only a cold, calculating determination.
I reached my father's chambers and I slipped inside, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. My father lay on the bed, his massive frame partly hidden by the curtains.
I hid in the shadows, my eyes fixed on my father's face. I could see the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
My grip on the sword tightened. This was it. This was the moment I had been waiting for.
My father stirred, his eyes flickering open. I held my breath, remaining perfectly still as he looked around, disoriented.
At first, he didn't see me, didn't see the sword. But as his gaze swept the room, his eyes landed on the glint of steel, and he froze.
For a moment, he tried to sound courageous, tried to pretend that he wasn't afraid. "Who's there?" he boomed, his voice echoing off the walls.
But as he looked closer, as he saw the sword and the figure holding it, his bravery faltered. His voice cracked, and he tried to plead.
"Loren, is that you?” He asked as he scanned through the image. “My son, don't do this.” He said, his voice shaky “Whatever it is, we can talk about it. We can work it out. You have to know I am your father, the gods won't be happy with you"
I remained silent, my face hidden in the shadows. I didn't move, didn't speak. I just waited, the sword still and steady in my hand.
“The gods don't care” I muttered
My father's words hung in the air, a desperate plea for mercy. A plea that went deaf ea
rs. I refused to be swayed. I refused to show weakness. Little did I know that I was just a vessel in the hands of my mother