The Fugitive King

Chancellor Macian barked orders at is subordinates. It was still dark, people were rushing around frantically. Preparing a horse and cart, preparing the guard, finding food, checking maps. Zephiel stood upright in the chaos, trying to look lordly and upright. Truth was he was fighting to keep himself awake.

"My Lord." Chancellor Macian began. "This is very disturbing, I had no idea things had gotten so bad."

"Macian I was only following your advice, I don't know how to rule a kingdom! Do the people hate me so much as to assassinate me?" Zephiel replied.

"I fear so my lord." Macian said, he bowed as he spoke, his voice humbled seemingly taking care in his words. "I will order a retaliation immediatly, we will attack-"

"Attack? Our own people?" Zephiel cried. This idea sounded ridiculous to Him

"I see perhaps not. My lord we have to get you out of here, we can never be sure another strike won't come." Macian had turned from Zephiel and began waving more confused subordinates around. Turning back he began "I have prepared a-" He stopped, searching for the correct words, he grinned. "suitable guard for the task. You will leave for a while and I shall take over in your stead. Is this acceptable?"

"I trust your judgement chancellor." Zephiels dignified voice returned as he spoke. "It would be best, of course, if I leave now?"

"Of course"

"I wish to choose my own captain." Zephiel said.

"Oh my lord I believe I have found a good man for the job." He smiled faintly as he spoke, a hint of dissapointment hung over his words.

"As I said chancellor, I trust your judgement but I need one man I know and trust with me. I command it." Zephiel spoke with a humbling authority, Macian seemed to cringe at the words.

"Who do you have in mind?"

"Captain Rickard"

"I will send for him immediatly." Macian stood straight up, he was a tall man, his face looked thin and lacked charisma, his jaw pointed and his hair was black, thin and spidery.His small dark eyes sat far back in his head. He wore long red robes and carried a small dagger. He nodded to a guard and then motioned Zephiel to follow him.

Zephiel was a complete contrast to Macian, he had thick, flowing blond hair, strongly built, although not very tall. He had deep piercing blue eyes that were full of charm and, opposite to Macian, his very presence oozed charisma. He wore regal blue robes with gold markings adorning it. His short sword was ornate, the handle stylised into a roaring dragon and the blade decorated with images of flame. He stepped into his cart. It was very plain, built from oak with no markings and in front a group of horses beat there hooves and neighed restlessly.

The cart began to move slowly, the carraige door opened and a man in armour stepped inside. It was Rickard. The carraige picked up, Zephiel turned and in the distance saw the figure of Chancellor Macian, his hand raised. His thin frame gave him the aspect of a malevolent spirit. Zephiel however regarded him with absolute trust.

"My lord." Captain Rickard began. " If I may, I must speak"

The carts driver shouted and cracked his whip as the cart sped into the distance, followed by guardsmen on horseback. Zephiel looked back. He could no longer see his kingdom, it had been swallowed by the darkness of the night.

The End

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