Broken World Book Four - The Staff of Law by T C Southwell

sigh.
The unman pulled the covers up to her chin and turned to face his
audience. Merina shivered as his eyes slid over her, coming to rest
on the King.
    Ronos bowed
again. “I’m King Ronos. This is my son, Orland, and my daughter,
Merina.”
    The Mujar
nodded. “No harm.”
    “ Thank you.”
    “ Where is Prince Kieran?”
    “ You mean Tyrander.”
    “ No, I mean Kieran. Tyrander is dead.”
    Merina gasped
and sagged, and Orland stepped closer to take hold of her arms and
help her to a chair.
    The Mujar’s
eyes narrowed again. “You’ve harmed him?”
    “ No!” Ronos said. “He’s fine, quite all right. We... we thought
he was Tyrander. My daughter was married to Tyrander. He looks...
the same.”
    “ Identical,” the Mujar agreed.
    Ronos glanced
at his son. “Orland, fetch the Prince.”
    Orland hurried
out, and Merina fanned herself. Ronos looked confused and
embarrassed. The Mujar rose and approached the King, studying
him.
    “ You don’t hate Mujar,” he stated.
    “ No, we don’t.”
    “ One helped you.”
    Ronos nodded
as the unman walked around him. “Yes. They lived amongst us, and we
didn’t judge them. We never asked them for anything, nor did we
harm them. It was in my grandfather’s time. I can’t say we liked
them. We were indifferent. People fed them if they chose, but when
others threw them into the Pits, we didn’t.
    “ Then the mountain exploded, and a river of lava came straight
towards the town. It was little more than a village then, with no
wall. There was no time to flee, and many would have perished. My
grandfather went into the town and found a Mujar. He asked him to
help, and the Mujar agreed. He made the land rise up, stopping the
lava. That’s why there’s a cliff there now.”
    The Mujar
circumnavigated the King and stopped in front of him again. “So,
you worshipped them.”
    “ Yes, but they all left soon after they had saved us, long
before I was born. Is it wrong?”
    “ Yes, we’re not gods.”
    “ Sorry,” the King mumbled. “I just wanted to reassure
you.”
    “ I’m assured. How strange.” He went back to the bed and sat
beside Talsy. “I can walk amongst your people.”
    “ Absolutely! No one will say a bad word to you.”
     
     
    The Mujar eyed
the King, who radiated friendship and a desperate sort of yearning,
as if his life depended on convincing Chanter of his
trustworthiness. In Chanter’s experience, Lowman kings’ pride was
mostly to blame for Mujar’s downfall. Ronos’ demeanour seemed odd,
yet he detected no duplicity on the King’s part. The man was in
earnest.
    “ I am Chanter.”
    “ I shall not use your name against you, thank you for the gift
of it.”
    “ You’re well versed in the ways of Mujar.”
    “ We have prayed for another Mujar to come to our city since the
last one left, and in that hope we have all learnt your ways. Some
thought your kind left because we offended them in some way, so I’m
careful, you see.”
    “ You did offend them, but not with your manners,” Chanter said.
“You drove the Mujar away with your worship of them.”
    “ But... how is that possible? We only gave them their due, for
saving the town. What did they want of us in return?”
    “ Nothing but what you had given them before, and your
love.”
    Kieran came
trotting in, followed by Orland. He hurried over to the bed,
pausing to clap Chanter on the shoulder.
    “ Chanter! Am I glad to see you.” He bent over Talsy. “Is she
going to be all right?”
    “ Of course. They are chosen.”
    “ Who?” Kieran straightened to glare at Ronos. “This lot? They
put me in a damned dungeon!”
    “ They thought you were Tyrander. A whole city of chosen,”
Chanter marvelled.
    “ They weren’t good enough to save the race, like
Talsy.”
    “ No. They made one mistake. They worshipped us.”
    “ Too bad. People always go to extremes, don’t they?” Kieran
turned to Ronos. “I didn’t think much of your dungeons.”
    “ I didn’t think