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Gowen stared up to Falicor who sat on the dais above him. At least he has me sitting… not standing like some subservient lug.

 

“So, Gowen, let me see if I understand what you are telling me.” Falicor put his hand to his mouth and looked up at the ceiling. “You abandoned Dumas, to whom Jaakol assigned you to serve, and came all the way from Oditial to tell me what I was, weeks ago, told by the Dark Master himself. There is an heir who lives.”

 

“Falicor, how could I have known that the Quiet Hand would boast that the heir had helped turn RaKon from the city? How could I have known that Marshal Gretchen would be sent there behind him to win the people with kindness by undoing what RaKon did?”

 

Falicor laughed. “And how could you have known that the heir was named Edwin, when our scholars where, themselves, vexed to find the name of the lost heir… no, heirs. Teresa and Melinda are thought to live, as well.” 

 

“Yes, of course. I could not have known.”

 

Falicor stared into Gowen’s eyes and pounded his fist into his palm. “You make your excuses, but the truth is that you had the heir in your hands on the docks of Oditial and mistook a river man as King Darmond, II.”

 

Gowen nodded, but did not look away. I should have been provided more information, and had I been, I wouldn’t have made that mistake.

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Copyright 2018, 2019, 2020  —  Bill Snodgrass