By Maylivia Barrett
Alek’s frown deepened with the echo of his footsteps on the stone. “Your Majesty, the Ivernians come closer to breaching the gates every day.”
Saverd shrugged. “No one can dig two miles deep, Aleksander. The walls will stand. And if they succeed in climbing over, we have thousands of underground escape routes.”
Alek clenched his jaw at the king’s flippant attitude. Does he even listen to me anymore? “Please, Your Majesty, we must discover the source of their persistence and persuade their desistence.”
Saverd laughed sarcastically. “But Alek, all my other men of value agree: we could never buy peace without knowing what they wanted.” He rolled his eyes. “The silly mercenaries believe we protect some valuable treasure.”
“But we do not.”
Saverd glanced around the bare walls with a sigh of disappointment. “True.”
“So, we must tell them.” Alek’s dark eyes narrowed with passion. “For the people’s good. Let me go and tell them!”
Saverd shrugged. “You can do anything you like, Alek. No one’s stopping you.” He smirked. “But no one’s going with you either.”
Alek swallowed. “I hoped you might be kinder in protecting your senior advisor.”
Saverd peered into his solemn face. “How can you be so pessimistic all the time?” he asked. “You’re ruining the mood for tonight’s celebration!” He clapped a hand on Alek’s shoulder. “Speaking of, I expect to see you there. You need cheering up.”
Since you neglect your kingly duty, perhaps I’ll leave this foolish city. Alek shook his gray head. “Celebrations numerous be. I’ve attended three, and that’s sufficient for me.”
***
The halo of torchlight around Alek’s hand flickered in the breeze. He parted the curtain of copper vines and stepped out of the ancient tunnel. Ebony tree branches, rusted with leaves, wove a canopy overhead.
He peered into the gloom. Orange haze dusted the western fields. The Ivernian camp is just over that rise. I must convince them we have no prize.
He shuffled through an overgrown trail past fallen tree trunks, their jagged edges glistening. A stray branch eased forward enough to tear his robes. He clenched his jaw and walked faster. The Obsidian Forest was not a friendly place at night.
Alek raised his eyes toward the hill with the largest tent. The chief will be there.
He glanced up and down the tree line, resisting a shiver. The guards posted here were wary of the forest’s edge. Alek bit his lip. I could just escape. But for the people’s sake…
He stepped forward, raising his torch high. The white flag in his hand fluttered beneath the flame. “Ivernians! I have a message for your chief!” At his call, the torchlight swelled around him, its beams illuminating his tattered robes. The sparkling rays thawed his frozen fingertips. He smiled. Light follows the bold and warms the cold.
The soldiers crowded around him, several staring at his magical glow with respectful terror. “What do you want?” one shouted.
“Take me to your chief!”
Grumbling with suspicion and fear, they led him forward, their spear tips at the ready. In moments, he entered the tent.
The chief glared down at him, arms crossed. “What is your message?”
“There is no treasure,” Alek spoke rapidly. “King Saverd fed your spies lies, hoping to be seen as prized. Our walls are bare, our jewels but two, and there will be no food left for you.” At least, not after this week’s parties.
“Why should I believe you?”
Alek fixed the chief with a stare of desperation. Why would you value my words when no one else does? His lips moved slowly now. “Because only an advisor of age seeks their city to save. They value nothing but self, squandering their wealth.” His heart trembled. Oh, that he would listen.
The chief cocked his head, his armor shifting. “What is your name, man of value?”
“Aleksander.”
The chief’s eyes widened. He stepped past Alek to the tent door. “Call off the siege! Our prize is found!”
“What?” Alek gasped. “I don’t understand.”
The chief smiled at him. “I’m Ivar. You should have received my letters months ago, but Saverd must have made sure you never saw them.” He held out his hand. “Aleksander the Wise—I wish to employ your services in my homeland. You are all that is left of your once-great city. I need you to restore that greatness to the rest of the country.”
Alek’s throat tightened. “You besieged an entire city, searching only for me?”
Ivar bent to look him in the eye. “Man of value, I need you.”
Man of value. That is my calling.
“I pledged my wisdom to Saverd’s kingdom,” Alek said reluctantly.
Ivar nodded. “But rulers must also vow to treat advisors as their title deserves. If Saverd broke his vow—”
The heaviness inside him lifted. “My pledge is voided now.” Alek grasped the chief’s hand. “I shall serve in honesty and honor your progeny, sir.”
Ivar grinned. “Wonderful!” He called the nearest guard. “Pack up camp! We’re going home at dawn!”
Alek cleared his throat. “I do feel compelled, sir, to write to Saverd of my sudden departure. In forthrightness and peaceful transfer of loyalty to you, sir.”
Ivar chuckled. “You wouldn’t be a man of value if you didn’t.”
Alek cracked a smile.
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I like Alek’s rhyming responses and the way you described the Obsidian Forest.👏
Love the vivid details! The words come to life. The twist was a pleasant surprise at the end. It shows how taking the next steps of faith is key in life. It’s refreshing to read about true convictions and how Alek valiantly followed through. This is a great contrasting example to today’s culture that promotes self and complacency. Thank you for this!
I love the story’s descriptions involving the setting and Alek’s character background as we explore what a king’s advisor would be like and to hold such a crucial role yet still hold no real authority to make decisions on behalf of your people.