Ramson knelt before the man-made line of water that separated the aisle of the throne from the rest of the hall. Several light steps, and he was looking into the polished leather boots of the King.
“Rise,” laughed King Darias as he stepped over the water line. Ramson did. “You never disappoint me, Ramson Farrald. Two weeks it has been, and you have sent back scores of Kerlan’s spies, dug out most of his network, and found the scholar holding the legacy of his work.” His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Perhaps, now, you’ll consider joining my government officially?”
King Darias had been pressing for him to accept an official appointment within the Bregonian government—still without success. Ramson inclined his head and gestured at the new courtiers gathered throughout the hall. “You are too generous, Your Majesty. I see the People’s Elections seem to be progressing extremely well.”
King Darias nodded. “We are in the process of filling seats in the Three Courts. I took a survey of our population and divided the seats according to income and geographical region. There are magen here, as well.”
Ramson swept a gaze over the seats, half still sitting empty. For some reason, the mention of magen—the Bregonian term for Affinites—stirred a faint emotion in his chest.
Ana would have wanted to see this. Harmony between Affinites and non-Affinites, equality from the government downto its people…those were ideals she had been seeking to build since they had first met.
“I’m reforming the system to ensure accurate representation of our people,” King Darias continued, looking thoughtful as he studied his courts. “Previously, my father and his ancestors chose only those with power and money. It was impossible for those without to get anywhere in the ranks of our government…which is wrong.”
Gazing at the King, at his ink-black hair and bright eyes, Ramson couldn’t help but think of another boy. His childhood friend and sea brother, Jonah, an orphan who had been brought into the Naval Academy as a Navy recruit, had seen the same issues. The system of old had neglected the hopeless and downtrodden and, at worst, punished them to preserve itself.
Jonah had died as a result of the broken system.
Ramson pushed those thoughts away and changed the subject. “An interesting choice of construction,” he said, gesturing atthe floors and walls around them. “I’m sure it wouldn’t have been difficult to mine more searock to complete the reconstruction.”
“We are a nation of metal and stone,” King Darias remarked. “It won’t do to forget our origins…or our history. This hall shall serve to represent the scars we carry.” He paused. “Besides, I’ve ordered all remaining supplies of searock to be purchased by the Royal Treasury, and banned new mining activity.”
Ramson nodded. Searock was one of the key materials that went into constructing the siphons, and upon further study by the Bregonian scholars, it was found to possess the power to absorb the properties of magek that resided in magen.
“Not to mention,” King Darias continued, a slight frown creasing his brows, “our economy has suffered heavy damage with the war. I’ve received reports from many regions over the past two weeks that trade routes with Cyrilia seem to have collapsed.”
A tinge of cold unease trickled through Ramson. “I may have answers for you on that front, Your Majesty.”
“Oh?”
“As you know, my squad and I tracked down the scholar to a northern village of Denner. There, we found what we presume to be the hub of all Alaric Kerlan’s activity. We believe to have uncovered a massive operation of illicit trade between Cyrilia and Bregon, which Alaric Kerlan has facilitated for decades. This includes…magen trafficking networks.” Ramson motioned at Narron, who was standing at the doors. The young man clicked his heels together and hurried to Ramson’s side.
King Darias’s gaze sharpened. He held out a hand; Narron slid a tome into his fingers. The boy king flipped through several pages, his expression tightening. Ramson watched, the feeling of foreboding growing with each passing moment. These trade ledgers spanned years,decades,even, all perfectly preserved. There were sums on these pages indicating fortunes, and Ramson couldn’t help but wonder how many lives were contained within these lines, how many families destroyed to satisfy the rapacious greed of cruel men.
At last, King Darias leaned back. He drummed his fingers along the sample tomes. “This is sickening,” he muttered.
“I would concur, Your Majesty,” Ramson said.
King Darias steepled his fingers. “The Kingdom of Bregon will continue our fight against the illicit and abhorrent trade ofhuman lives, as we always have,” he said. “Kerlan’s sinister practices infiltrated our kingdom only because he had someone on the inside working for him.” His fist tightened.
Ramson inclined his head. “In whichever manner you decide to remedy this issue, my sword is yours.”
At this, the King’s eyes sharpened on Ramson. “There is something I’ve been thinking,” he said, and his tone gave Ramson pause. “Our Courts suffered heavy losses in the wake of the battle, as you know; currently, the post for Ambassador of Trade and Commerce in the Earth Court is still open.” He leaned forward. “I wish to nominate you.”
Ramson shouldn’t have been caught off-guard—the boy king had proven to have more than his share of brains and deviousness. It took Ramson a moment to gather his thoughts. “Your Majesty,” he said, clasping a fist to his chest. “Thank you. It is an honor.”
The King studied him for a moment. “But?” he asked.
Ramson licked his lips. “My work of rooting out Alaric Kerlan’s criminal network is not finished,” he said. “Especially in light of the new information we discovered. The global network of Affinite traffickers remains strong.”
“And you could work to prevent them here, in Bregon. The surest way to catch these criminals is through stringent inspection of trade ships, which the Kingdom of Bregon has upheld for centuries.”
“Bregon is not the centerpoint for these networks.” Ramsongestured at the ledgers Narron carried. “You saw from the paperwork that the trafficking organizations have their strongestfoothold in the Aseatic region.” He wasn’t even sure why he was debating this. The King had offered a wonderfulproposition—one that gave him everything he’d wanted: riches, status, and the opportunity to pursue his dream of owning his own port and trade routes. Before, he would have jumped at the chance.
But for some reason, he kept thinking back to Linn, to her frightened gaze, the way she’d looked at him like a trapped animal when he’d approached her that night in Kerlan’s Playpen. Of May, the earth Affinite Ana had rescued from her indenturement in Cyrilia, her eyes bearing a jaded wisdom that did not befit her child’s body.
King Darias waved a hand, leaning back. “No matter. We’ll table this for later. My scholars have assembled for the interrogation.” He raised his voice. “Lieutenant Ronnoc, secure the hall and summon the scholars. Captain Farrald, have your squad bring in the prisoner for questioning.”
Ramson’s attention shifted. From the side doors, beneath open-air arches, a group of scholars filed in, their white robes flashing in the sun. Scrolls of parchment and papers fluttered as they settled in a circle around the dais. Without further word, King Darias swept up to the dais and took his seat. As the Three Courts settled, Ramson’s squad marched in. They held Scholar Ardonn between them.
