Chapter Eight - Feeble Lies, Deadly Truths

Roman stared into the empty cell that once held Karina Cembirsdotter. Treason was a crime never followed by mercy, the highest crime in the land, perhaps the highest crime in any land. It was a crime satisfied only by the death of the perpetrator, and he was guilty of it. But would anyone know that? Satisfied that no evidence of his treachery was left in the cell, he left it and walked to the cabinet at the end of the hall. The hall was dark and damp. The floor was made of flagstone, as were the walls, causing every footfall to echo and ping loudly. He walked past three other cells identical to the one that had once held Karina and decided the cabinet would raise questions. It was too perfect, too neat. It had clearly been disturbed by someone who knew where to look for what they wanted.

Roman grabbed the doors by their handles and tore them open with great force, as though he were searching for something in great haste. He threw its contents wildly about the room, smashing a couple drawers as he went. When he was finished, he took a step back and admired his work. Thinking it looked much more believable in its state of utter disarray, he nodded for his own benefit and then left the corridor. Thinking if he sounded more winded that he would be more believable, he vaulted the stairs up to the main level two at a time, and then ran through the main hall across the sapphire blue rug, being sure to make as much noise as was possible. He past the two customary chamber guards which stood on either side of the doorway. They saluted him as he passed by, and he ignored them as always. When he turned into the main chamber, it wasn’t lost on him that Seevus and Rogha were huddled around a table of charts and maps while he had been charged with checking on the prisoner. He burst through the door as wildly as he could without overdoing it.

“My lord!” He gasped for air. Vaulting the stairs had done the trick. “My lord, she’s gone,” he said in surprise, hoping he sounded convincing. King Seevus and Rogha stared at Roman in confusion.

“She’s what?” Seevus snapped, in a voice that plainly said he understood what Roman had said but that it had better not be true.

“Kar… the girl, she’s gone,” he said. He hadn’t wanted to use her name. Somehow it seemed incriminating.

“What do you mean she’s gone? How could she be gone?”

“I – I don’t know,” Roman fumbled genuinely this time. Why hadn’t he thought of a cover? “She, I…” He saw Rogha smile in what was unmistakably satisfied amusement. It distracted him further.

“He let her out,” he said softly, in a tone that dripped with pleasure. “The fool set her free,” he said again.

“Roman?” King Seevus asked.

“She must have tricked the dinner guard. I don’t know what else could have…” He fell short again. How had Rogha picked up on the lie so quickly? Oh, how he hated Rogha, The Wraith King, he thought to himself with venomous sarcasm.

“Roman, this is one of those times where you need to be very clear with what you have to say,” Seevus said, calmly.

“My lord, I would never, you know I would never just let her out. That would be treason!” He said, acting astounded.

“Indeed, yes, it would be treason.” Seevus said dangerously as Rogha chuckled softly under his breath.

“And no doubt that would just make your day,” Roman said to Rogha who stood as though watching a sporting match with his arms crossed.

“Yes,” His deep voice rasped quietly. Coming from him, the brutal honesty was staggering. What little confidence Roman had mustered to say this to Rogha was immediately snuffed out.

“Get out of it, Rogha,” Seevus said. “This little competition between the two of you is getting old.”

“I see no competition against him,” Rogha replied.

“You…”

“I said get out of it!” Seevus silenced Roman as he started to reply. Why was he always on the losing side of their quarrels? He was the commander after all. “Rogha, we’re done, there’s nothing more to say on the matter of Lorlea, now be gone!”

“Of course,” he said without argument. Rogha walked slowly from the room. As he approached the doorway, he turned to Seevus and said,

“He’s lying to you. I always know when someone is lying. He’s a treasonous rat,”

“Be gone!” Seevus shouted.

“As you wish,” Rogha said, and then finally, he left the chamber. Roman trembled. He stood their trembling in his own boots, not because Rogha had said the words, but because he knew Rogha was right. The two guards which stood on the outside of the double doors leading from the main chamber shut the doors behind Rogha sealing Roman and Seevus inside, alone together. As they did, Seevus turned back to Roman.

“You’re a traitor, Roman. Don’t deny it.”

“No, I’m not,” Roman said, unconvincingly. Seevus backhanded Roman across the face. Roman didn’t move, except to turn his head. He reached up, wiped the blood from his lip, and said nothing. He looked into Seevus’ cold eyes.

“You’re a traitor,” Seevus said again. “What would you have me do, Roman?”

“If you can’t be convinced, I’d say your duty is clear,” Roman replied. Somehow, the king’s conviction had given him strength, or perhaps that was just because Rogha had left the room.

“What was she to you?” Seevus asked him. Roman said nothing. “What did you hope to accomplish?”

“I am not a traitor,” Roman repeated. Seevus looked him in the eye and shook his head in disbelief.

“No,” he whispered menacingly, “No, Rogha was right about you. You can’t be trusted.”

“My lord, please, please believe me.”

“Do you not understand? What am I supposed to do with you? I can’t trust you, but I can’t strip you from your rank,” Seevus said, starting to pace. Roman looked at him, confused. “Without you, Rogha takes over. You’re the ballast on the other side of the scale, Roman. You keep everything in check! What happens when you’re removed from the picture?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Roman said.

“Without you, Rogha becomes my only other wielder of magic. Do you have any idea what that means?”

“No, I…”

“Rogha cannot be allowed access to that staff!” Seevus shouted, pointing to Heartsbane slung around Roman’s back. “Do you have any idea what he would do with it? Do you have any idea what his powers can do?” Clearly Roman did not. “Rogha is loyal to me only because he needs me. With you out of the picture, that link dissolves, and as delicate as that loyalty is, it is at least more than I can say for you!” Seevus shouted. “Forget it, I don’t know why I even bother,” he said, calming down. “How can I expect you to grasp these intricate layers of governing?” Roman, longing to earn back some of what he had lost said,

“My lord, my loyalty is to Rhodhinia. You have given me great power. I can use it to build this empire back to what it once was,” Roman pleaded with Seevus. But Seevus was unconvinced. He looked up at Roman and shook his head.

“Those are clever words, Roman. I used to call you my faithful one. Now I find that there is nothing you can say that will restore may faith in you. You are lost to me. Now be gone from my sight. I have work to do.” Roman looked at his king dejectedly.

“Please, my lord,”

“No, Roman. I am done. Go.” Seevus pointed to the door and turned back to his table where he had been sitting with Rogha as Roman had walked in. Roman watched him walk back to the table for a moment, and then turned and left the main chamber. The guards on the other side of the door looked at him as he walked through. He glared at them, and they snapped back to attention. The only good thing in his heart was the thought that it seemed he still commanded the respect of someone, even if only the door keepers.