Keeping the Fire: The King inThrones

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The Westin game of Hunar came to the East from Fortress Edgar. There they changed how it was played and renamed it Thrones and now every nation plays it differently. Dorrishmen of Free Westa play a version with soldiers, several kings, and one High King. While the kings might move as a solider or “ride” a hook shape move that takes them a bit further, the High King moves the furthest and is harder to capture than the other pieces. The way they play it in the People's Alliance, the king only moves at the expense of another piece, by taking its place on the board. The Flinishmen play a version where the king can move as far as it likes, in any one direction it likes, and through any pieces it likes. The greatest threat to the Flinish king is another king. But in Fortress Edgar, they play Thrones only one way, and hold that it is the oldest. In the Edgaran's game one wins by killing the king, yet their king can move only a single space. He can capture any piece, but only if the other player lets him.

For King Edgar Jacalm Mire III, bearing the same first name as every first born male of his line for a thousand years, coming to Polena meant much planing. He arranged to meet with her in the Eighth Hour, when most of the Fortress was asleep and the hush of night was heavy. Polena did not know where the meeting place was, but instead was told to ask a Watchman at a certain place who sent her to another watchman, and finally to a small balcony on the East wall. It was called “Chausen's Watch” from a story now long forgotten, and it overlooked the Silver road which plied a steep and switch-backed coarse up a long slope to the Fortress from the verdant Dehali valley below. In person, cowled in a fine velvet cloak,the King seemed smaller, yet no less regal. Polena mused that in his youth he must have been taught posture and expression in the same way others were taught how to ride or farm; he seemed a man to whom greatness is a profession. The King had one of the Knights of the Nine Hours Watch by his side, a different one of whom guarded him each hour of the day, and also a great ogre of a man called Delhey the Whale. What his rank or purpose there was, was not explained to Polena yet he seemed at least as important as the Knight. The King was careful, and direct, he seemed not to speak unless he had thought of the word in their entirety. Soon though, he asked her a simple seeming question.

“Is there proof that the Djaught Mehethe can give me of the Poet Djasho?”

“No,” was Polena's answer.

“Is there a body? I have heard that in the oldest days some tribes burned their dead, as the Dol Qwai still do now. Yet, Mehethe promised me a tomb. Can he deliver one?”

Polena took a breath before answering so as to hide any emotion from her voice. The People of the Alliance also burned their dead and to think of that made her think of Coralm. She hoped that his murderer had smothered him first, or at least drugged him so heavily that he did not feel the flames. She would never know.

“If there was someone that could be called Djasho, and if that person was of Westa's tribe, and if that tribe held the same traditions as Fiedjan did in the Classical Period, and if the tomb has not been looted, and if also time has not covered or ruined the place. Then yes. There is a body. Then, as now, Fiedjan believed the blood to carry a person's soul. The blood would be trained, lest the soul return and become trapped in the body, and the body itself would be stuffed with ceder and put in a coffin of clay or stone sealed away forever. Such mummies can last forever.”

“Then we do have to worry.”

“Only if you think that all the “ifs” I gave you are true.”

“Such is the life I lead, Luminary. No phantom or trick-of-light must be ignored by me. If you would deny this Djaught's claim, I would need you as well to deny it's source. Can you offer proof against this tomb he claims to have?”

“Yes,” Polena said before considering whether she could or not. The King nodded.

“It makes me glad. I shall take leave then, but not before giving you over to Delhey here.” the great man smiled, his stained teeth missing or cracked in several places. Her was shaved bald, scared, his arms hairy and a proud, thick mustache above his intimidating grin. Surprised at how little the King wished to ask her Polena turned to the massive man.

“And what does, um, what do you do Delhey?” she asked.

“Why my'lady,” Delhey answered in a voice rough from pipe smoke, “There has not been a problem as acute as yours in the Fortress for some years. Political infighting; yes, Power plays; to be expected, assassinations or attempts; you would be foolish to think they don't happen. But what has happened to you and dear Knight Luminary Coralm? May the Crow Woman hold his soul gently, but it was an awful death for him. Something so brazen as these attacks is a serious problem for our appearance of security. And I, Luminary, I fix problems.”

Polena could not help but feel that she was gaining an ally but in the process she was losing some freedom of movement. And as the King in Thrones will tell you, no mater which version of the game you play, freedom of movement is everything.

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