demonstrated His great power by riding his chariot across the sky every day and bestowing his glory upon the crops of believers and unbelievers alike, since the Age of Creation. Why worship something you could not see? One might as well make up a god and worship it. Naturally, Lisson did not volunteer these thoughts.
“There is only one problem with the plan. The most difficult part of any plan is the waiting. And we will need lots of it.” Luwain reminded them again of the issue of time.
“Yes. And throughout that time many hidden levers have been put into place. One day, years from now we will pull them all.”
“Rest assuredly.” Said Luwain.
“We may not be the ones doing the pulling, my lord. When that day comes, we may all have reached an ancient age or we will all be dead.” Said Lisson.
“There are others who will finish the work. One day this whole land will be set ablaze. A never ending fire.” The three conspirators fell silent at this thought, each concerned with what the fire and darkness had come to mean to him. Far in the distance they heard the call for the Prayers of Night. Lord Tybbl made a disgusted sound.
“What is the matter, my lord? You do not pray any longer?” asked Luwain, grinning.
“I do. But not at the temples within the city. Too many women and common rabble. I prefer the Mountain Citadel and its temple.”
“That far, my lord?”
“Close enough for me. When it is all said and done, when the wars and fires start, the citadel will be the place the people will flock to. In fact, more move there every year. Those sympathetic to our concerns. No women are allowed within its temple and only literates and educated men can enter the temple.”
“A good thing. How it should be.” Said Luwain. “I have wondered something, my lord. They say the king's own sons hate him. Perhaps they can aid us? Perhaps we should back one of them. . .”
“Perhaps they can. W e can find some use for them in the scheme of things, maybe even lend support if they can demonstrate that they can help us but they remain the king's sons. Through them the monstrosity lives. They are of the blood. Even sons who are sympathetic to our cause must die in the end. The entire royal line must be destroyed, else they will always remain a threat to us all.” Lord Tybbl lifted up his goblet and sipped. The wine was very dry and astringent. The taste reminded him of the difficult tasks that lay ahead. He poured more wine for himself and his spies.
“Death to the king.” He said coldly. The other two toasted him, unafraid and bold, now that they were outside the city walls.
“Death to the king!”
The distant sounds of the rams' horns eventually died away.
This short story is a prequel to the upcoming Red World trilogy.
Look for the first book of the trilogy late fall, 2012.
It will be partially serialized on the blog.
You can find more work from V. A. Jeffrey at the blog:
https://www.pencilword.blogspot.com
or the website:
https://www.epistlepublishing.com
other short fiction titles by this author:
Dust and Bones
Rainfall
The Candy Shop
Fairy Tales and Fables
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