The Marenon Chronicles Collection

Chapter Thirteen





The early morning dew in Farlaweer began to evaporate into a heavy mugginess as Julian made his way up the castle stairs into the entryway. He spoke with a guard who was clueless as to who he was. Julian told him he was a representative of the Dunarian Council and he needed to speak with the king at once. The guard passed along the message and Julian sat waiting for almost an hour. When the guard finally came back, he was directed to a large room with a long wooden table. The walls were lined with large stained glass windows all around. He was told that someone would be meeting him shortly to take him to the king. So far, so good, Julian thought. He hadn’t expected to even make it this far. He sat for almost another hour knowing exactly what was being done. There was no need for the wait, but Julian understood the drill. If it was not of dire importance to the king then there was no reason to be in a hurry. The longer he made them wait the busier he seemed to be and the more powerful it made him look. He knew how it was with Morgan. He had done it since his first day as king.

The door in the corner opened and in came two guards followed by a small man in long, red robes, carrying several items that might have been from his previous meeting, if there really was one. The man’s name was Spencer. Julian had known Spencer most of his life in Marenon. The man had been selected as one of Ruben’s several advisors. Spencer was the least liked of the bunch and often pointed out the negative aspect of any issue. Ruben had considered his perspective to be invaluable. Morgan liked him so much that when he became king, he got rid of the others and made Spencer his only close personal advisor. Julian would have fired him the first day if he were in his brother’s position. Spencer’s manipulative behavior was transparent to Julian. Spencer had always known that Julian saw through him too. But there was no reason for him to be afraid of Julian. He knew Julian never had any power in the royal family.

The weasel of a man set his things on the large table in the middle of the room and looked up at Julian with a surprised stare. He obviously had not expected to see him.

“Why Julian,” he said. “I knew we were meeting with a representative from the Dunarians, but you were the last person I would have expected to see.”

Julian stood. “And you are not my brother. I specifically asked to speak with him.”

“The king is quite busy these days, Julian. One cannot simply ask to see him and expect an audience right away. It’s not how it works, you know that.” Spencer pushed up his glasses on his long, slender nose with his pointy fingers. The man had an aura about him that would make most people cringe. It wasn’t from fear or intimidation, but more of a sick feeling like speaking to him was wrong somehow.

“I know how it works with Morgan and I asked to be allowed to speak with him. What I have to say has nothing to do with you, Spencer.”

Spencer chuckled. “Well, as the king’s personal advisor I will know everything there is to know anyway, young Julian. Your brother relies on my opinion in most situations, as I’m sure he would trust my judgment on any matter you may have to bring before him. Anyway, he has no desire to see you. He detests your existence.”

The words poured out of his mouth like liquid poison and Julian wished Spencer would drown on them. He spoke as if he knew the thoughts of Morgan when in fact he probably planted most of the ideas in his brain. Morgan had few redeeming qualities about him, but Spencer had even fewer.

“I want to speak with him,” Julian repeated.

“Out of the question,” Spencer said, unmoving. His smug grin made Julian flush with anger.

“Does he even know I’m here?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Spencer said. “He would not speak to you.”

“Let him make that decision,” Julian said, his face turning a bright red.

“He already has. Through me.”

Julian clenched his fist doing his best not to snap the frail creature’s neck. The two guards in the room were well trained, and should he make a scene, more might come. There was little chance he could take several guards without a sword at once, not to mention that being wanted for murder would hinder his ability to obtain the medallion. For these reasons he held his composure.

“I’m sure that’s not how it worked when my father was in power was it?”

“Ruben Hobbes was weak and incompetent and without the ability to rely on others to help him in any situation. It was cause for much confusion in his kingship. Things work much better this way, Julian.”

Julian snorted. “I’m sure you think so. My father’s only mistake was appointing you to an advisory position in the first place, you snake!”

“I’m sure there are many who would disagree with your assessment,” Spencer said calmly.

“Is that so? I’m sure my father would have done a lot more than fire you if he had survived his attack by the Stühocs.”

Spencer stood motionless.

“Yes, that’s right,” Julian said moving forward. “I believe that you and several others were behind his death. It’s something that has eaten away at me over the years and it’s about time someone faced the consequences.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about,” Spencer said glancing at the guards who stood ready to help.

“I think I do,” Julian said, now only a foot from Spencer. The guards held tight to their weapons, ready for any sudden movements. “I think it was you who planned the attack in the first place. I think you knew if my brother were king he would make you the sole advisor to him. You hated my father and everything he stood for. You hated how he wanted nothing more than to let the Dunarians move on with their plans to eradicate the Stühocs from Marenon.”

Spencer held his position, but was much smaller than Julian. A standoff would not go into his favor. A grin remained on Spencer’s face.

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Julian.”

At that moment the guards went to either side of Julian to escort him out of the palace. One of them made the mistake of harshly grabbing him by the arm. Julian yanked his own arm, pulling the guard’s head down sharply. As Julian’s knee came up to meet it, the crack of a broken nose could be heard and the guard fell, whimpering, to the floor. Then without consideration for the consequences he backhanded the other guard across the face causing him to fall to the ground. In the same fluid motion, Julian grabbed Spencer by the shoulders and threw him onto the table, pinning him down. He landed two punches to the stomach and a slap across the face. A drop of blood trickled down Spencer’s nose as Julian held him by his garments.

“You murdering traitor!” Julian spat. “I should kill you for what you did! You deserve nothing but to be thrown into the gauntlet you conjured up in your twisted brain!”

Spencer could barely breathe. “If you don’t let go of me this instant!”

“What? What will you do, you wormy filth?”

Through the struggle and triumph of facing Spencer and truly telling him how he felt, Julian had let his guard down. Spencer grinned maliciously once again and then all went black.

All Julian could think at the moment was how much the back of his head hurt. A knot had already formed and was tender to the touch.

When he came to, he realized that he was lying on the grass somewhere outside of the castle walls. The two guards and Spencer stood above him, bloodied and battered. One of the guards had apparently gotten back up and silenced Julian.

“The only reason you aren’t being thrown into the dungeons this minute is because I don’t want your brother to know you were here,” Spencer said. “It would cause much distress for the king if he were to find out that you were here to kill him.”

“You don’t want to throw me in the dungeons because you’re afraid I can convince him of the truth about you,” Julian shot back, rubbing the knot on the back of his head.

Spencer and the guards began to move back toward the castle to leave Julian stranded outside of the walls. Before the gates closed on him, Spencer said, “Your brother knows the truth, Julian. He knows it and he’s accepted it. Perhaps you should too.” The gate shut hard and Spencer vanished from sight.

When Julian stood, a wave of dizziness sailed through his head and he thought he might fall over again. One of the guards had hit him hard. He was stupid for having turned his back on them. He toddled down a walkway and eventually made it out to the city where people were walking all around him, not noticing who he was. He preferred it this way. When he got back to the inn he took off his cloak and looked out his window to the castle in the distance. In there sat Morgan, oblivious to the fact that his brother had been in the castle only minutes before, trying to see him. Julian wasn’t sure if Morgan would have cared to see him anyway, but it had been worth a try.

There was still hope for getting the medallion, however. There were two people in all of Farlaweer that held a key that opened every door, every gate and every passageway throughout the castle. Those two people were Morgan and his weasel advisor Spencer. Julian reached into his pocket and pulled out the key he took off of Spencer when he threw him onto the table. The move had been risky and dangerous. Julian was lucky to have escaped with a minor blow to the head, but it was a small price to pay, considering the reward. He smiled as he turned the key over in his palm, then placed it back into his pocket.