Faeryn entered the great hall by the side door just as the man called Byerron and the doorkeeper entered by the main door.  Byerron looked considerably different, the bath and the clean clothes leaving a startling impression.  His hair, which Faeryn now saw was golden, was combed down and made his particularly brilliant blue eyes jump out of his face.  Byerron was now clad in tan clothing and a tan cloak which had been provided for him as a gift, but he kept his black boots, which kept up their constant clamor as Byerron walked.  

The doorkeeper glanced at her as he passed, but Byerron took no notice of her, intent upon what he was going to say to the king.  Faeryn found this rather peculiar, for she was used to people looking at her.  Her father had made it no secret that his daughter was fair to look at, and surely, being the only woman at the court, she would be noticed even if she had been ugly.  Added to the fact that her gowns were some of the most colorful and expensive that the kingdom had ever known, she ought to be recognized.  This man must really have something to say, to completely pass her by without noticing.

            Faeryn walked as quickly and as silently as possible to where the chancellor stood at the far end of the hall, slipping behind the pillars instead of walking in from of them so that she wouldn’t be noticed.

            “Faeryn, I’m glad you made it,” the chancellor whispered to her as she walked up next to him.  “You really have impeccable timing,” he added playfully.         

The princess smiled at him, enjoying his jest, but the voice of the herald announcing Byerron brought her to attention.

            “My Lord King, Laencastere of Orotaek, I present to you Byerron, son of Credo, formerly of the Red Forest.”

            The king spoke, “What is it you have to say, Byerron?”

            “Oh King Laencastere, sovereign ruler over Orotaek, I come bearing a warning, and counsel, if you will heed it.”

            “By all means, speak your warning and your counsel, Byerron Credo’s son.”

            Byerron hesitated a moment before answering, “Oh king, as I have walked through the land I have seen many who were suffering under the weight of the taxes you have imposed, and they are hardly able to sustain themselves because of the enormous daily sacrifices required by the priests, particularly the priests of Ryselleacar .  Oh Laencastere, I have heard the teachings of the priests of the new goddess, and all their words come out as empty lies.  I implore you to lift the taxes and restrict the sacrifices, so that the people will not starve.”

            Laencastere leaned back in his chair, a small gesture of defiance, and then spoke;

            “I see no such problem with my kingdom, oh Byerron, such as the one your eyes have imagined.  The taxes are paying for the army that keeps them safe, and the sacrifices and teachings of the priests are good for them.  They need more religion in their lives.”

            “But my lord, there is no war going on at the moment, and you have more than enough men ready to fight at a given moment.  And what of the teachings?  Don’t you even care whether they speak truth or not?”

            Laencastere reached into the bowl that sat near the throne and pulled out an orange.  As he ripped it open he spoke in a rhetorical tone;

            “Truth?  What is truth?  No one knows if the gods even exist, but we sacrifice to them in case they are.  And for simple folk such as peasants, I think a little belief in the gods is good for them.  They are superstitious folk and need something to cling to.  Come now, you don’t believe that there is anything so real and steadfast as this ‘truth’ that you are talking about?   The gods demand sacrifice and homage: that alone never changes.  There is nothing else.”

            Byerron looked at the floor for a moment, his face impassive, and Faeryn could tell he was weighing his words on the scale of his mind.  What he was about to say had a gravity greater than all he had previously said, and it was a subject very dear to him.  His fear of ridicule was getting the best of him.  Then it seemed that he made the decision in his mind to go forward, and he looked Laencastere straight in his hard brown eyes. 

            “While I was in the mountains,” he said, “a god came and spoke to me.  He said that He is the only god in heaven, on earth, and under the earth, and He said that worship of any other god is abominable to Him.  He said that if we would serve only Him, he would show us truth.  Oh Laencastere, if we would stand as an upright nation, we must follow this god.  He is the only God, and if we do not follow we risk His anger.”

            “If he is the only god, and if he even exists.  Am I right in guessing that this so-called god has appointed you to be his prophet?  How lucky that the god who speaks to only you has come to you and told you to start this new religion.  And I suppose he also wants you to preside over all matters belonging to this religion?”  Laencastere laughed, a teasing, unbelieving, mocking laugh, and said: “No, Byerron, I cannot allow this.  You have driven yourself mad, living alone in the mountains, and have begun to have hallucinations of a new god.  The old gods have been good enough for us.  Why do you think your new god will be better?”

            Oh, stop it!  Faeryn thought.  Let him speak!  Does he look like a crazed man?  He speaks from his heart, do not crush him so!

            Byerron did not take his eyes off the king, although his shoulders sagged a little, having received the answer he had feared.  In a low voice, he said plainly, “Laencastere, for once in all your years as king you are wrong.  You are making an unwise decision.  If I am right,” he paused, as if uncertain.  “If I am right, destruction will not come from without, but from within.”

Faeryn saw her father’s face harden dangerously, and his eyes seemed as though they would shoot poisoned arrows into Byerron.  Did the man not know the peril he was putting himself in by angering the king?  Surely Byerron must stop his accusing, now that he was risking his freedom by tempting the wrath of her father!

            But Byerron did not stop.  It seemed then that he couldn’t stop speaking, even if he had wanted to, until his task was done.  “My lord king, I beg you to listen.  Do what is best for the people.  Lift the burden of these taxes and let them live free.  Let them learn of the truth instead of walking in blindness.”    

Laencastere leapt up, charged with fury, rising to his full height of six-foot-seven and lifting his head in defiance of all that Byerron had said.  The orange fell from his hand and rolled forgotten on the floor.  “How dare you,” he said, starting quietly but growing louder with every syllable, “How dare you think that you know what is best for my kingdom!  It is I who guide the kingdom, I who make the decisions!  Do you really think that you, who are barely into manhood, can have anything to say in the matter?  The people are not overburdened.  They are not harmed by learning of the gods.  You shall not come in and say they are without reason.  I, with my wisdom, have decided what is best.  You are nothing but a confused beggar!”

Byerron said nothing.  Looking back years from then, Faeryn was struck by the irony of the situation.  The king was accusing Byerron cruelly, and he simply stood there in silence.

“I name you,” the king said, his voice booming and ringing over the hall, “a disturber of the peace.  You have come only to incite trouble and instigate a rebellion.  You are a treasonous dog.  Guards, arrest him – “ Two guards came, almost before they were called, and grabbed Byerron.  “ – and throw him in the dungeon.”

Faeryn gasped.  This shouldn’t be happening.  No one was arrested in Orotaek for this reason.

Byerron looked at the king one last time, not with anger so much as with sadness, before the guards forcefully dragged him across the Great Hall.

Watching Byerron being removed from her father’s presence, Faeryn could be silent no longer.

            “My Lord King, please do not do this!  This man has done nothing wrong!  Why have you imprisoned him?”

            The king looked at her with a lazy impatience that made Faeryn feel that she was only three inches tall.  “Faeryn, he spoke treason,” he said slowly, as if explaining things to a very small child.  “All those who speak treason are imprisoned.”

            You don’t need to explain it to me like I am a child, Faeryn thought.  I’m almost a woman, and I know the proper sentences to be given for every crime known to man.  “My Lord, if that is treason, than half the beggars that come to you at Mid-Moon should be locked away.  They spoke much the same words as Byerron, although they didn’t do it nearly so well.”

            The king was no longer so unconcerned about what she said, as if suddenly realizing that she might have made a well-reasoned point against his decision.  His voice had more of an edge to it as he replied, “I am the king, and in this land the word of the king is law.  I see this Byerron as a threat to Orotaek, so I am removing the threat.”

            “But what of justice, my father?  He was only trying to help the people!”

            Laencastere never answered her question, but only said, in a voice that was calm yet amplified so that everyone in the hall could hear, “Faeryn, I believe you are worn out from the day’s work and are not able to make a sound judgment.  I suggest that you return to your quarters and rest.”

            Faeryn could have screamed in frustration, but what could she do?  The word of the king was law, and she had to go.  She turned without a sound and left the hall.  It wasn’t until she got to her room that she ran to her bed and sobbed into her pillow.

**Note: As my story is still in the making, all names, places, and events may be subject to change.** Copyright 2008 Cherise A. Do not reproduce at all without my express permission. If you like what I do, you can link to me instead.