magnificent sword worthy to be wielded by their king. It would eventually be named The Legend of Ages. To his knowledge, the sword was legendary because it only existed in fables; it hadn’t been seen in a thousand years. How could a mythical sword arise? It would need its master to wield it, yet how can an ancient, rotted corpse of a king return to the land? And if he did, by some hideous sorcery, could he defeat King Nielius’ army to triumph?
King Nielius must’ve been concluding the same thought because both men quickly snapped their gaze to stare at each other.
“I think it is about time we learn more of our ancestors,” the king decided. “Put the witch into a holding cell, and have her monitored and nourished. I need her alive.”
“Yes, Lord,” the Steward obeyed, and hurried to the door to snatch the guards. He relayed the king’s command, and they carried the oracle’s unconscious body to the depths of the castle.
Without a word, the king and his Steward hurried to the castle’s library and began to research all of the kings in Hyrendell history. Hours passed, fading into the night as the stars turned overhead. With the help of an exhausted librarian, King Nielius and the High Steward Lotharius scrutinized the archaic writings of scholars long passed, searching for anything that spoke of a legendary king. They studied all of the known history of the land, from its discovery in 3371BC to the current age, focusing on any significant, decisive battles and any superstitious myths that arose from the people.
Sometime around the break of dawn, an excited “ah hah!” broke the grave silence. The Librarian jerked in his sleep, and King Nielius looked up as Lotharius hurried over carrying a rather fragile manuscript.
“Here, Lord. Apparently in 254AD, during the Battle of the Heavens, someone named ‘The Legend’ arose to power, governing the land with an ‘even hand’, so it says. It looks like he ruled for almost twenty years over Hyrendell as it ‘prospered like never before’,” Lotharius quoted.
The king’s eyes blazed across the frail pages, scanning them for any hint of who this king was. “273AD…Legend…murdered…” Nielius immediately stopped and re-read the last paragraph. It was written in old bardic script:
The Legend’s rule ended with an intense sword fight inside his personal chambers, where secret assassins murdered him in the night . Although an extensive search was initiated among all of Hyrendell, the killers were never found . The following day, King Eaodan McCloud was buried among his clan, as per his request . Not even in death did he wish to leave those whom he loved...
“McCloud,” King Nielius breathed, “why didn’t I connect it before…?”
“You mean old Eaodan was the fabled legendary king?” Lotharius chuckled. Then quite suddenly, he burst into a raucous laughter. “No... Way…,” he spat in between breaths. It wasn’t some mythic sword. How could he be so stupid! The king, however, sat back in his chair, pondering over the distant lineage.
When Lotharius was calm enough to speak clearly, he continued, “sure, the kingdom was prosperous during his era, but prosperity does not make one great, and certainly not legendary! After all, how could he return? Eaodan never had any children!” He stood up from leaning against the table to pace around, stretching his tired legs.
“You know the story of my heritage,” the king began, “after Eaodan’s death, his Lord High Steward Gregorius Evacus was voted into the kingship by the Privy Consol, though I’m sure the Steward’s Consulates were compensated for their suffrage, if you see my point. Afterward, having bore no children, Eaodan’s Queen Seraphina was banished to Hyrendell Village, and she was never heard from again.” He crept up from his chair and paced toward the nearest window to look out upon the dawning sky.
“I don’t quite follow, my Lord,” Lotharius admitted as he stepped to Nielius’ side. A brief smile of sympathy toward the Steward’s ignorance passed over the king’s face.
“Don’t you think it’s curious that the surname of McCloud is still in use to this day, yet the Evacus Clan has ruled the throne for over a millennia?”
Lotharius thought about this simple fact for a moment. “Well, I’ve never really paid it any mind, my Lord. Once the noble Evacus’ were crowned, why would it matter if the McCloud’s lived on?”
“That’s my point,” Nielius countered. “I’m sure my ancestors felt the same way. The throne was secured for their lineage, why would it matter if a McCloud lived in Hyrendell or not? This, my brave, yet dense Steward, would seem to be their own undoing.”
Once again, a glazed expression froze Lotharius’ face. Nielius merely sighed.
“Try to follow me on this one, okay,” the king asked. “My ancestors, having won the kingship over Hyrendell, had nothing to worry about. The McCloud’s could never reach the throne again. Therefore, they must’ve ignored any entry into the kingdom’s Registry under the surname McCloud, meaning anyone could use it. Do you see now?”
Startling comprehension dawned on Lotharius’ face, “either someone in the past had decided to adopt that name, or the banished Queen actually had children.”
“Yes,” Nielius exhaled.
“But, Sire, when the Queen was ordered to leave the castle, she was not with child. If she was, the unborn would’ve been crowned in-utero, or otherwise murdered like its father.”
“Or she just wasn’t showing,” Nielius added. He turned to pace around the library. “Banished and forgotten, left to live like peasants, the McCloud clan disappeared into Hyrendell history until one day, when a prophecy would be told that would mark the return of the McCloud namesake to the throne. My ancestors unknowingly sealed their own fate.”
Lotharius stared in shock at his king. “They should’ve killed her when they had the chance. Surely there must be something we could do, my Lord.”
“I think there is,” Nielius replied, “the Oracle speaks only double-sided truths because the future is always uncertain. She said the Legend would return, but not how. What if Eaodan’s return meant the revelation of his derelict ancestry and the absolute termination of his bloodline? I could scour the Island for all McClouds and have them executed, all while reinforcing the kingdom’s laws to increase obedience. Not only would that fulfill the prophecy by bringing forth ‘the Legend’, but once the threat is eliminated, only I, an Evacus, would be left to deliver the land from evil!”
Lotharius finally understood. “Cleanse and protect. And I’ll order a few ships abroad on a diplomatic mission to decontaminate the outlying lands,” he smiled, apparently satisfied with his own brilliance.
The king grinned in approval, “now that, Lotharius, is why I pay you what I do.”
For a moment, King Nielius and his Steward Lotharius stood breathing in the crisp morning air, churning their pending conquest into various shapes inside their minds. Shortly after dawn, the Steward departed and the king made his way to his private chambers for a short rest, for he knew that the beginning of the end was now in motion.
* * *
Generous beams of sunlight streamed in through the open stained glass windows of the Consul Chamber as the five members of the king’s privy council sat in their respective chairs bantering to one another. Adding his rumbling laughter into the discussion, was the sixth member of the council, Lotharius. The king’s Steward had called a special session of the Consul, on the matter of a secret plot against
