A king never truly rests.

Rather than sleep, he stays awake at night fretting about the good of his people. When he is at leisure he fears the assassin lurking around the corner. Even when he is at play he must be ready for his sport to come to an abrupt end so that he may deal with matters of state.

It had been far too short a time since Azazel’s triumphant return from Godsmouth, and now he was off to battle again, to destroy the Jidra Garden and bring Demon King Malkira to justice.

The Knight of Thorns had arranged for the blacksmiths to forge a new suit of armor for Azazel, one made of the finest steel, but plated with copper and inlaid with adonium. When King Ozz rode before his subjects, the light off his new armor made it look like he was a ray of light from the sun itself.

Behind him rode a vast army, knights and soldiers from every major noble house in Tir Shazelle. When Azazel looked back, he saw a multitude of banners, each with a different coat of arms. Every shield told in pictures the story of its wielder’s family.

A small part of Azazel wished he could be so proud of his own family’s history, but he never knew his mother or father. Professional mentors raised all angels from the moment they hatched. “Some are good for breeding children, others for raising them,” as Nakir always said.

And now Azazel was to be mentor to a nation. When he looked back over his shoulder at the young warriors who’d made their way toward the front ranks, he saw countless young, human, men and women with adoration on their faces. And then he beheld their companions without faces. Golems whose bodies were made from clay or stone. Automatons larger than most men, who wielded pick-axes and belts of dynamite. Then the truly strange among them; those who appeared to be part tree and part human. He marveled at them for a moment, but did his best to avert his gaze. As far as these people knew, he was a wise king, but if they knew he’d never seen one of their kind before he’d appear the fool.

Azazel gave them a friendly smile, and they all swelled as if with pride before bowing their heads to him.

The Knight of Thorns rode up beside Azazel, though his condor remained just two steps back from the front. Proper protocol, as always. “I understand you may have a plan, your majesty, but may I offer some advice?”

Azazel nodded. “A good king always listens to wise counsel.”

The Knight’s helmet nodded. “Forgive me if I’m telling you things you already know, but have you been to war before? I know you’ve fought battles, but have you been in a real war?”

“I haven’t,” said Azazel, all his insecurities suddenly taking hold of his heart.

“Worry not,” said the Knight of Thorns. “I have fought in many a war.”

Azazel snickered. “Really? I had no idea the famous Knight of Thorns had been to war.”

A brief silence between the two of them, with those dark holes in the visor’s helmet staring Azazel down.

“Amusing,” said the Knight of Thorns. “I would advise that we halt our army before we are in view of the Jidra Garden. According to the map, there is a mountain we can hide our force behind while scouts go forth to assess what forces guard the garden. Once the scouts return with their report, we can strategize our attack.”

Azazel scratched his chin and considered the Knight of Thorns’ advice. “You want me to stop the force behind a mountain so that scouts can better judge what lays ahead. Roughly how long would it take for a scout to travel from the camp to the Jidra Garden and then return with news?”

“That depends on the scouts we send,” said the Knight of Thorns. “But, assuming normal circumstances, about four hours.”

The angel king twisted his reins in his gauntleted hands. “And, once we have the report, about how long before the army arrives at the Garden?”

“About six hours.”

Azazel groaned and rolled his head back. “See, I know that’s the wise thing to do. Delay the attack until we have a better idea of what we’re getting into, but you just told me that once we arrive at that spot behind the mountains it will be 10 hours before we can attack the Garden.” The angel turned and stared through the eye-holes in the knight’s visor. “How many people do you think the Demon King will kill in that time?”

Pop!

Bang!

Azazel snapped his head back to see where the gunfire was coming from. But upon turning his head he saw an automaton in the crowd spewing sparks and black smoke through the exhaust pipes rising up from his back.. A mechanical bird with rusty feathers grinding against each other flew just overhead.

“I understand your concern,” said the Knight of Thorns, drawing Azazel’s attention back. “Believe me, I too want to save as many people as possible. That’s why we can’t just charge in there without sending scouts first. Otherwise we could suffer massive casualties and, in the end, fail to save anyone.”

King Ozz peered out over the horizon, to the black mountains in the distance. “What if… what if the scout could fly? How much does that cut down on the time it takes?”

“Your majesty...” the Knight of Thorns began, his voice, for the first time, sounding nervous, “...if I am understanding you correctly, you wish to handle the scouting yourself?”

“Not on my own.” Azazel gave a sheepish grin. “I was actually hoping you and your riding bird might accompany me. I’d invite one of those avian automatons too, but I fear they’d make too much noise.”

“You flatter me, sire,” said the Knight of Thorns. “But even if I go with you I cannot promise your safety. If the force at the Garden is too great, and if we are spotted, they could slay you with ease.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take for my people,” Azazel said flatly.

“Think twice, sire!” The Knight of Thorns raised his index finger, as if scolding Azazel. “Think twice before you make such rash decisions! Your life is not just yours to risk or even to give away anymore. You are the King of Tir Shazelle, the symbol that unites the noble houses together and gives hope to the people. If you are slain the people will lose heart, and the nobles will fight among themselves over who shall rule next.”

“You don’t think my martyrdom will inspire and unite them?” said Azazel.

“No,” said the Knight of Thorns. “At least, not until you have an heir.”

“An heir…” Azazel sighed. Once again he was reminded that the fate of Tir Shazelle rested on his ability to produce offspring, something which was exceptionally rare among angels. “Let my heir be whoever will do my will.” He waved a dismissing hand. “Why must it be that my heir is of my blood?”

“The theory--” said the Knight of Thorns, “--is that when you sit upon the throne, knowing that you shall have to pass on your kingdom to your child, whom you love, that you will do everything in your power to ensure that the kingdom is in a good state when you pass it on. Even a king who fails to love his people will love his own children.”

Azazel scoffed. “I’ve seen many a father do terrible things to his children.” For just a moment, he debated telling the knight that he was suspicious of the gods’ love for mortals too, but he held his tongue, not sure if he could trust his friend with such thoughts.

“Maybe so,” said the Knight of Thorns, “But for those men who do such harm to their children there is no hope. If they cannot even love their own they clearly cannot love anyone. Counting on people to do well for their sons and daughters is still the best way we have to motivate people, flawed as it is.”

“Fair enough,” said Azazel. “So, what do we do?”

“Well, you should marry Lady Calimei as soon as we return. And then, on the wedding night--”

“Not that!” Azazel interrupted and rolled his eyes. “No, I mean… about scouting out the enemy army. I want to save as much time as possible so we can rescue more people.”

“Oh... I will be the scout.” The Knight of Thorns ran his fingers between his condor’s feathers. “Strix and I will fly high enough that neither bow nor musket can reach us. From there I will have a good view of the Garden.”

“Strix is…?”

“My condor.”

“Right,” said Azazel. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“If it prevents my king from doing something rash, most certainly.”