“So I’m right. This is all a lie.”
“It may not be a lie, per se. You realize it’s possible—even likely—that Danbury could have the amulet and not be anyone special. Nine hundred years is a long time to expect an heirloom to stay in the possession of one family. The odds are weighed heavily against it. Personal effects are lost every day. This is made of silver, and a poor man, in a moment of desperation and convinced any story he was told is just a myth, could be tempted to sell it for food. Moreover, what should happen if the owner died—killed in an accident—and this medallion was taken from the dead body and sold? This has likely passed through hundreds of hands before ever reaching Danbury. If what you say is true, Esrahaddon’s incantation merely revealed the wearer of the amulet and not the identity of the original owner’s descendants. So it’s possible Esrahaddon may be sincere and still be wrong.
“Even if Danbury was the descendant of the last Teshlor, he might not have known any more than Hadrian does. His father, or his father before him, could have failed to mention it because it didn’t matter anymore. The line of the heir may have died out, or the two became separated centuries ago.”
“Is that what you think?”
Arcadius took off his glasses and wiped them.
“For centuries people have searched for the descendants of Emperor Nareion and no one has ever found them. The empire itself searched for Nareion’s son, Nevrik, with all the power of great wizards and questing knights at a time when they could identify him by sight. They failed—unless you accept the recent declaration that they found the heir in the form of this farm girl from Dahlgren.”
“Thrace is not the heir,” Royce said simply. “The church orchestrated that whole incident as theatrics to anoint their choice for ruler. They botched the job and she accidently caught the prize.”
The wizard nodded. “So I think common sense decrees that an heir no longer exists … if he ever existed to begin with. Unless …” He trailed off.
“Unless what?”
“Nothing.” Arcadius shook his head.
Royce intensified his stare until the wizard relented.
“Just supposition, really, but, well … it just seems too romantic that the heir and a bodyguard could have lived all alone on the run for so long, managing to hide while the entire world hunted them.”
“What are you suggesting?” Royce asked.
“After the emperor’s death, when Nevrik fled with his bodyguard, the Teshlor Jerish, wouldn’t they have had friends? Wouldn’t there have been hundreds of people loyal to the emperor’s son willing to help conceal him? Support him? Organize an attempt to put him back on the throne? Of course this organization would have to act in secrecy, given that the bulk of the dying empire was in control of the church.”
“Are you saying such a group exists?” Royce asked.
Arcadius shrugged. “I’m only speculating here.”
“You’re doing more than just speculating. What do you know?”
“Well, I’ve come across some odd references in various texts to a group known only as the Theorem Eldership. I first discovered them in a bit of historical text from 2465, about the time of the Steward’s Reign of Glenmorgan the Second. Some priest made a brief notation about a sect by that name. Of course, at that time, anyone who opposed the church was considered heretical, so I didn’t give it much thought. Then I spotted another reference to the same group in a very old letter sent from Lord Darius Seret to Patriarch Venlin dating back to within the first twenty years after the death of Emperor Nareion.”
“Lord Seret?” Royce asked. “As in, Seret Knights?”
“Indeed,” Arcadius said. “The duke was commanded by the Patriarch to locate the whereabouts of Nevrik, Emperor Nareion’s missing son. He formed an elite band of knights who swore an oath to find the heir. A hundred years after the death of Darius the knights adopted their official name, the Order of Seret Knights, which was later shortened out of convenience. Quite ironic, actually, as their responsibilities and influence broadened dramatically. You would hardly know it, as the seret work mostly in secret—hidden so they can perform their duties invisibly. They still report directly to the Patriarch. It’s really just a matter of perceptive logic. Given that there is a pseudo-invisible order of knights seeking to hunt down the heir, doesn’t it seem sensible to conclude that there is another unseen group to protect him?”
Arcadius stood up and, with no trouble navigating his way through the room’s debris, reached the far wall. There a slate hung and with a bit of chalk he wrote:
Theorem Eldership
Then he crossed out each letter and underneath wrote:
Shield the Emperor