“Kings, and lords, and even heroes, they come and go. You wave your banners and tell the plebs that goodness and virtue will prevail... But you know nothing of the world. I'll tell you the truth. Overthrow a tyrant and another one will take his place. It is the natural order of things, strong leaders are meant to rule – and it is what the people want, what they crave for, despite all the fuss. Don't you understand? Even the gods mock your petty revolutions! Get on with it then, kill me, and just wait. You'll see.

-the last king of Callir, alleged final words”

* * *

Therenus

A knock on the door, followed by one of his attendants' voice. “Elder, it is time.”

“Yes,” he mumbled, “yes.” He donned his red robes and opened the door. He felt his brows knitting together despite his attempts to keep a collected appearance. The doorman noticed that too and gave an apologetic smile.

That annoyed Therenus even more. Everyone was mocking him. Even the chosen.

Summoned! She summoned me! How humiliating, to fall so low that this little girl would dare to look down on him. No, perhaps it was Phiramel's doing, after all. I already know where this is going...

A servant offered to lend his arm and help him walk, but Therenus shrugged him off. “I can walk by myself just fine, lad,” he said more harshly than he meant to. To the side, standing against the wall in his usual arrogant demeanour, was Odel the fencing master, in a staring contest with Petrus, a bloodsguard. Odel was perhaps one of the rare Vierans who hadn't deserted the temple three days ago, but no doubt it was thank to the numerous silver coins Therenus was paying him. They were friends, of course, but had it been Therenus in his shoes, he'd have expected compensation to stay in such a unfriendly place.

He wasn't sure that the foreign swordsman would protect him if things got really dangerous – but whatever Odel decided to do, Therenus wouldn't blame him – nor could he count on the bloodsguard anymore. They had left Therenus with only one knight to protect him, and even if Petrus was a distant relative of house Danalion, he couldn't possibly be trusted. Their allies had been quick to flee, and even switch sides, when they smelled all the nasty developments coming this way.

Petrus bowed, but Odel barely gave a nod as a greeting. “Everything's ready, elder,” said the Vieran.

Therenus stared at them both for a short moment, and grunted. “Let's go, then.”

They walked took the stairs and the endless corridors of the temple, following the elder's pace, but by the time they had reached the council room, he was already out of breath. Petrus knocked on the door, which opened a few seconds after. Therenus frowned yet again as soon as he glimpsed inside the room. First of all, it was that damn Feanir cutthroat who had opened the door – Bert or whatever was his name. Then, the bloodsguard. They were all here, and fully armed.

Oh, dear. He scoffed. If this isn't an attempt to intimidate me, then I don't know what it is.

“Elder,” Phiramel called out, standing behind the young mistress who was sitting at the end of the large table. Flanked by her knights. The high-priest apparently caught on Therenus' nervousness, and gave a faint chuckle. “Pardon this display of steel, elder. But you understand we are very cautious about the young mistress' safety, these days, I imagine?”

“Why, of course,” Therenus replied with a grand smile. On one side of the table were seated prominent church members. Viriane and a few other priests and priestess. Facing them were a few Callirian nobles. Lord Laurentias Feanir was sitting not far from the young mistress, his son Leon by her side, with a wooden clutch to support himself, and a slightly uncomfortable expression that betrayed the pain he felt from his wound.

Therenus barely gave a glance to Elric Danalion at the other end of the table. He was shamefully staring at his feet, and the elder immediately knew that they would have no trouble using the lord's fear to get what they wanted from him.

“Apologies for calling you here,” Rina said as she motioned for him to sit next to lord Danalion. “I know it is rude, what with your age and all that, but there are important matters to be discussed.”

Mocking me again. He sat down, glancing behind to make sure Odel and Petrus weren't too far, and eventually gave another smile. “No need to apologise, young mistress. I understand why you called this meeting.”

“Do you?” she asked innocently. “That's a relief. If the church stands united, it shall overcome this chapter of turmoil.”

Grand words from such a mindless girl. But Therenus didn't blame her, she had been dragged into this mess regardless of her wishes, acting her role as best as she could in a time of crisis.

“Shall we begin?” Phiramel said as he finally sat. “As you know, there is tension within the church, and, must I say, within all of the city-state. We managed to capture two of the attackers in the hall, and though they didn't appear to know much even after... questioning... it is clear that the cities of Viera had a hand in it.”

The elder sighed. “Spare us the lengthy exposition, Phiramel, will you? You want us to break our ties with the Vierans, I gather.”

“That is indeed the point of this meeting,” Rina said, nodding. “This is for your own good, elder. House Danalion is already under pressure from the rest of the nobility to do so. The citizens will find ways to show their displeasure, one way or another. If anyone here knows what the angry people is capable of, it is you indeed, wouldn't you agree?”

A subtle way of reminding me that after helping me to remove the king's head forty years ago, they now want to remove mine.

But things were different nowadays. Contrarily to what happened with the last monarch, right now the citizens' anger wasn't exactly justified. Therenus glanced at Elric, but it seemed the man himself wouldn't even dare to defend his own interests.

“Young mistress, I know this is an unpopular opinion right now, but...” Therenus paused and frowned as he saw Phiramel snicker silently. “Our trade with cities such as Ocia or Sar has brought back what had been lost through decades of incompetent rule – prosperity. The Callirians were more than happy to see the sails of our ships returning via the river, knowing they were loaded with all sorts of food, gifts, and-”

“Assassins,” Leon Feanir interrupted. “Your cursed ships also brought assassins. Or have you forgotten already?” The elder glared at Leon, but said no word that could worsen his current situation. Know your place, kid. Wherever assassins come from, it is your duty to deal with it. Instead you bloody brats get stabbed in the leg like farm-boys, or even killed by a woman.

Viriane cleared her throat. “The point is, elder, that whether or not the people were thankful for your commerce with foreigners, they surely aren't at the moment.” Therenus tried his best not to show it, but he was baffled. It was rare for the sibyl to give her input in non-religious matters. Rarer still for her not to mention the gods or her divination when she was arguing about something.

I see you too have chosen your side, he concluded bitterly. Someone knocked on the door, and Therenus found himself clenching the armrest with his fingers. Startled by a damn door. He glanced at the tardy newcomer – Rina's brother. Or was it Leon's squire, nowadays? A lackey of Phiramel and the Feanir house, that at least he was sure of. Therenus wondered for a second if the kid would also add some reproach on top of the pile everyone had put together...

But he simply walked across the room and gave a nod to his sister as if he meant for them not to let him interrupt the meeting.

“Well,” the young mistress said, putting both her hands against the table. “There's no need for this council to be so tense. We are all friends here, after all.” She glanced over the people present in the room with eyes that were somewhat unbefitting of her usual self.

Therenus' instincts told him something was amiss, but he played along nonetheless. “Indeed. I don't see why anyone would think otherwise.” He sighed. “Very well... I won't let the Vierans get in the way of our friendship.”

He meant it as a way to acknowledge her request and her victory, but hearing that, Rina's stare intensified rather than softening. Perhaps she felt insulted because she expected him to admit his defeat explicitly.

“Good. And what would friends do, in such a situation?” At last, she swapped her judging stare for a bright smile. “They toast and drink. Elder, would you be so kind as to fetch that jug of wine over here, and a couple of cups while you're at it? Let us toast to our friendship, and renew our vows of unity.”

He gritted his teeth but knew he had to bear the humiliation. He had no choice, because the mere hint of uncooperativeness could serve as a pretext for these wolves to destroy him. The worst of it was that they were using the young mistress to taunt him. Therenus guessed that Phiramel was the one who put her up to it – only that wicked man would come up with such ways to shame his rival.

He neared the sideboard and brought a tray with silver cups on it. He walked slowly, hearing the cups shaking and banging against each other in the most atrocious silence, as everyone either watched him or found a sudden, deep interest in the ceiling's cracks. Once he had placed the tray on the table, he went back and grabbed the jug of wine.

Rina observed him all along, and when he paused after putting the jug on the table, she gave another smile, a forced one. Therenus understood, and cursed silently as he poured wine in the cups and went around the table to give one to the young mistress. Another one for Phiramel, one for lord Feanir, then for lord Danalion, and finally one for himself.

They raised their cups and drank. Therenus managed to calm his clenched hands as he wordlessly sipped the wine. I can always get everything back, he told himself. I've acquired the city once, I can do it again. The people love me, they just got tricked by misguided hatred and anger.

Phiramel's wine was apparently not nearly enough to wash away the smirk he was wearing. I'll tear it off your face soon enough. Laurentias drank it all in one go, while Elric took shy, timid sips from his cup. How pathetic it was, for this usually proud and imposing man, to be reduced to such a sad position. And Therenus was no better right now. The young mistress gazed at her wine for a moment, eyes lost in the blood-coloured liquid, and eventually took a big gulp.

Therenus sunk into his chair, elbow on the armrest and jaw resting against his fist, while his other hand played with the cup. I have friends in Tehen and Ebion, they can help me... He glanced at lord Danalion, but if the man had no intention to save himself, Therenus wouldn't bother to do it either. The elder would have enough trouble restoring his own honour, even though he was the symbol of freedom and whatnot. At this point, being friends with the disgraced nobility would be too much of a burden.

His eyes fell into his empty drink. A few red droplets swirled and glided along the silver cup as he made it swing between his fingers. The issue is that Ebion and Tehen are allies with the Summer Princes... They weren't kings per-se, but princes were princes. It wouldn't sit well with the Callirians if I was to seek help from monarchists and whatnot...

He had a crazy idea about giving rise to a revolution or two, and spread his name once more. I already overthrew a king, I could surely do it again... Then the Callirians would accept me and praise me just like they used to do. But grim logic followed immediately. Therenus wouldn't have enough time for that. He knew that he hadn't much left to live. Travelling was something he hadn't considered in years, and for a good reason. He'd probably die of old age, before he could achieve a single spark of political unrest, if he somehow survived the ships and the travels.

And regardless, too little was known about the Dominion of the Summer Princes. If the people there really believed in witchcraft and sorcery, there was no guarantee they had enough common sense to take part in revolutionary ventures...

“Is something wrong?” a voice broke out in the silence and Therenus snapped out of his thoughts. Everyone was looking in the same direction – the young mistress. She was breathing heavily, her hands trembling, the muscles of her neck twitching.

“I-...I'm fine...” she muttered, and reached for her cup of wine. As she bent forward, she fell from her chair.

“Young mistress!” People got to their feet, while some stayed on their chair, looks of confusion on their faces. But Therenus knew what was happening. There was no way the assassins would have given up after only one attempt. “Call the doctors!” someone yelled. The elder got up from his seat, too, and slowly walked around the table. Astrael neared his sister, and pushed away a panicked Leon Feanir and a couple of priests and servants.

“Move,” he commanded before kneeling next to her. Leon apparently got his act together and also ordered that everyone made room for the brother. Rina was whimpering and shivering, and her hazy eyes glancing around were the only thing hinting at her lucidity. After a moment, Astrael voiced the dreaded conclusion. “It's poisoning. Strychnine seeds, I'd say.” He motioned for a servant to come and help while he gave her instructions. “She'll survive,” he eventually said. “I think the amount wasn't enough to be lethal.”

How would you know? Therenus meant to ask. Are you a doctor or something?

“Don't simply stand here!” Leon Feanir bellowed to the others. “Search the temple for the culprit!”

The elder looked around the room, and his gaze stopped on the young mistress' cup. Then, he saw Phiramel, not far from the table. He slowly approached the cup, studied it, lifted his stare and faced Therenus. Their eyes met, and they observed each other for what felt like a minute but probably was a mere second – and Therenus knew what the high-priest was thinking.

But before the elder could do anything, Phiramel pointed a mean finger and a hateful glare toward him. “There's no need to search the whole temple,” he muttered. “The man who served the wine and gave the young mistress her cup is still in the room...”

Leon Feanir pierced Therenus with mad eyes, and soon enough everyone looked at him with a suspicious expression. Even Elric Danalion. He had to do something, anything.

“I can't believe it... Isn't that a bit too convenient? I was the last to arrive, almost anyone here could have put poison in the young mistress' cup before I came.”

Leon scoffed. “And how would it be possible to know beforehand which cup the young mistress would be drinking from?”

“In the first place, why are we assuming we would have had wine no matter what?” lord Feanir pitched in. “This,” he pointed to the cup, “isn't something one could do with mere planning, unless there was a way to predict the young mistress would want to drink.” The lord's accusatory tone was enough to let Therenus know he was his target.

“That's it,” Phiramel said, fists against the table. “I know you better than anyone else, elder. I thought you gave up way too easily on your precious ties with the cities of Viera.” He looked over the people present in the room. “Isn't it strange, when you think about it? Why would you give up without a fight?”

“This is insane,” the elder muttered. He was about to turn around and get out, but that mercenary with greasy hair blocked his way. “Step aside, you Feanir dog,” Therenus snapped.

Bert put a hand on his shoulder. “M'afraid I can't do that,” he slurred in an almost sorry tone. Odel gripped the guard of his sword, but was obviously hesitant to act. Petrus wasn't even near them, and he looked to nervous to be of any use.

“What I think, elder,” Phiramel kept on while Therenus still had his back to him, “is that you brought poison with you and saw the cups and the wine when you entered the room. Perhaps you thought that the young mistress would want to celebrate an easy victory. Perhaps you thought you could take advantage of her noble desire to unite the church.”

“How cruel,” he heard someone whisper.

“And so you gave her what she wanted and didn't even protest when asked to pour her wine.” Phiramel snorted. “You didn't hesitate to drink wine yourself since you knew that only the hero would be poisoned. My guess would be that she only survived because in your anxiety and hurry, you misjudged the amount of poison you put in her wine.”

“Men,” Leon said to the bloodsguard, “On behalf of the church, I order you to arrest elder Therenus.”

Phiramel rubbed his chin and frowned. “Now, I wonder if you had anything to do with the first assassination attempt. Perhaps you thought you had to take matters in your own hands after the first failure...”

The knights exchanged glances and hesitantly approached. The elder clenched his fists so hard that his fingernails bit into his flesh. “Absurd,” he mumbled, before raising his voice. “...I have never heard an accusation so twisted and convoluted before. Are you all such a bunch of idiots that you allow this man's venomous tongue to fool you? Can't you see that I'm being framed? Why in earth could I possibly wish to harm the chosen! I freed Callir from a tyrant, I brought happiness to the poor, and now you think I would collude with foreigners to assassinate a saviour sent by Xito! H-have...” he stuttered, “have you all lost your bloody mind!?”

“Please calm down, elder,” Laurentias Feanir said in a low, collected voice, that contrasted with Therenus' increasing panic and anger. He himself was aware that this was unbecoming of him. These last few days had strained him so much that he wasn't able to keep his composure in this dangerous situation. The lord turned his head and faced Rina's brother. “Astrael, you are knowledgable about poisons. What do you think? Do you believe the elder could have done it?”

What? Why are you asking the brat for evidence?

“It is difficult to say,” Astrael said after a while, staring at Therenus with cold eyes. “You can search him, but he probably won't have anything left on him. Perhaps you'd find it wise to look in his chambers for strychnine seeds or powder made from it... And anything that could be used to prepare such a poisonous substance, really.”

Leon stepped forward. “You heard him, go inspect the his private apartments. Meanwhile, we'll make sure elder Therenus doesn't leave the room.”

A handful of knights hurriedly obeyed the captain's command and went to the last floor. Fools, Therenus thought, fools. What are they expecting to find? Then the realisation hit him, like a stone thrown from a catapult.

He closed his eyes and swallowed his saliva. They would most definitely find something. Phiramel wanted his head, that much was obvious. He would have made sure that there was something to find.

That fucking mongrel. Therenus opened his eyes, only to cast the single most hateful glare he had ever given, toward Phiramel.

It didn't take long for the knights to come back with the evidence. They had found strychnine seeds, but also nightshade, hemlock, and all sorts of venoms. To hint as his alleged determination to have the young mistress killed, surely. As if one type of poison wasn't enough...

Therenus knew that Phiramel had never been so pleased, even though the high-priest hid his enjoyment behind a mask of sadness and anger.

“You filthy criminal, how low have you fallen?” Phiramel growled. “Lock him up. Watch the door, and make sure nobody approaches his room without my consent. We shall hold a trial tomorrow in the main plaza.”

A trial... You mean a public humiliation. It would be a joke, but it was a trial nonetheless. Phiramel had to maintain appearances, and he was probably already gloating at the idea of sentencing Therenus to exile or death, but... The elder would have the opportunity to speak, too.

Bert and a couple of knights stepped forward, surrounding him and dragging him by the arms. Odel, who had been silent and discreet all along, gave Therenus a sorry glance, and probably made the wisest decision in his life by moving aside and keeping his mouth shut. The Vieran was more or less respected, being one of the young mistress' teachers, and he would probably be allowed to return to his country if he didn't make a fuss. Regardless, Therenus couldn't afford to care for others anymore, so if Odel somehow still got into trouble, there was nothing else to be done.

They made him climb down a few flights of stairs, pushing him when he wasn't fast enough. But he endured it. They brought him in some cold, dark room with a pitiful bed, where he was sure to sleep uncomfortably even though he needed a clear mind to prepare for the trial. Still, he would endure it.

Phiramel had played his hand. And now Therenus had only one night to prepare his, but it would be enough. He knew all there was to know about the high-priest's faction, and since there was little hope left to escape whatever sentence Phiramel would decide on, all that remained was to fight until the end.

I will see to it that you don't come out of this unscathed.