have gone too far, Prince!”
As have you, Zared thought. He was icy calm now, and he shook off Isfrael’s hold.
Caelum sat down. “I will close this Council within minutes, Zared, but first I need to say that –”
“You cannot close this Council yet,” Zared said. “There is one more item of business we need to discuss.”
Caelum stared at him. “And what might that be?”
“We need,” Zared said, his hand absently hovering where his sword normally hung from his weapons belt, “to discuss restoring the throne of Achar.”
The entire Hall was silent, stunned. The notaries and secretaries had paused in their incessant hunt for precedents in their documents to stare open-mouthed at the central table. The scribes’ quills had dipped unnoticed to scratch uselessly against cloth instead of parchment. The messenger boys were rigid with terror, incapable of moving.
The guards, already rigid and expressionless, still somehow managed to register their outrage. Restore the throne of Achar?
“And so now the traitor speaks,” Askam said softly into the silence. “Is this what you have wanted all along, Zared? Is this the reason you so pursued Leagh?”
“I am no traitor,” Zared said, just as quietly, “to want for the Acharites what every other race in Tencendor has – their own head. Their own pride.”
“Sit down, Zared,” Caelum said. Nothing about his demeanour revealed the intense shock, even fear, Zared’s words had caused.
Caelum set his hands flat on the table before him, stared at them a long moment, then raised his eyes to the six men about the table. “Speak to me,” he said.
“Well,” Yllgaine said, “technically this conversation is academic only. The throne of Achar no longer exists. It is a relic of the past. It cannot be revived.”
“Achar no longer exists!” Askam exclaimed. His body was stiff with outrage, his eyes bright with indignant anger. As Prince of the West, Askam had the most to lose if the realm of Achar was recreated. Achar had once covered most of the territory he now governed, and had included Carlon, the richest and most populous city in Tencendor. “And thus the ‘Acharites’ don’t exist. Have you not read your Edicts of the First Year of StarSon Caelum’s Reign, Zared?”
Zared ignored him. “This is not how I wished to raise the issue –” he began, when Caelum interrupted.
“Nevertheless, this is how you raised it! I – nay, all of us here at this table – would be grateful if you would enlighten us as to the motives … the desires … behind your words.”
“But now that the issue has been raised,” Zared continued regardless, refusing to look at Caelum, “may I speak without interruption?”
Askam started to say something more, but Caelum held up his hand for silence. “Let him speak.”
“My friends, when Axis reunited Tencendor he righted a massive wrong. I cannot deny that. Former Acharite kings and the Seneschal had riven the ancient realm apart with their lies and hatred. Borneheld only made matters worse, and I have no quarrel with the fact that Axis killed our brother in fair duel in the Chamber of the Moons in Carlon.
“But I do have some reservations about his choices immediately after winning that duel. He reproclaimed Tencendor, yes, but in doing so he destroyed the ancient kingdom of Achar.”
“It had no place in Tencendor!” Askam said, looking about the table for support. “It was ever an aberration!”
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