A Facet for the Gem by C. L. Murray Read Free Book Online Page B

yet.”
    “Guards!” the king yelled, voice brittle with fright, and Felkoth put a hand over his mouth, holding him as he trembled.
    “Shhh,” Felkoth whispered gently. “Your friends aren’t coming, Father,” he assured, kissing the old man’s wrinkled, sweat-drenched brow while gazing past the balcony ahead. “Only mine.”
     
    Morlen’s innards churned for a long while after being so close to Prince Felkoth, who undoubtedly went to claim the king’s endorsement as successor. The rippling of a cloak in his periphery alerted him to Nottleforf’s approach from the castle entrance, and the wizard’s unsettled look only confirmed his suspicions.
    “What’s happening in there?” he asked, but before the wizard answered, one of Felkoth’s soldiers rushed to the citadel, tethering his horse so loosely in the courtyard it seemed he intended to be in and out quickly.
    “Felkoth is in the castle,” Nottleforf said heavily. “Today King Feldon has decided to deny him succession to the throne.”
    At this, Morlen wondered what misdeed could have poisoned the king against recognizing Felkoth, even after the army’s victory. “But the king is dying, isn’t he?” he asked. “Who inherits the throne if not his son?”
    Nottleforf glanced over at the Talking Tree, showing great reservation. “The king wishes to claim the Goldshard, though I strongly advised against doing so, to heal himself with its power so that he may hold death at bay while he reigns over Korindelf. That is why I’ve come. He sent me to obtain it for him.”
    With that said, Nottleforf reluctantly reached up into its boughs, and Morlen grieved when the wizard’s ancient fingers wrapped around the elevated treasure, concealing its sheen. Many over the years had tried to pry the relic free, only to be near-deafened by the tree’s unrelenting bellow as its grip tightened. Nottleforf, however, met no such resistance. “It was seen as a great triumph when the kings of old persevered through hardship without taking this for themselves, going to their graves with honor while still it remained for those who followed. This king means to use it to keep him from his own.”
    “But…” Morlen stumbled over the words, trying to stall him. “Are you certain you can do this? I thought only the king himself could…”
    “The king has given his blessing and trusted me to obtain it strictly for him, and thus it shall be permitted.” He plucked the Goldshard delicately from the gnarled grasp, and a forceful tremor shook the ground beneath them. Morlen’s heart plummeted when the tree immediately withered and retracted back into the soil that had sprouted it, never to be seen or heard again.
    But his focus was lured to the soldier who had entered the castle moments before, now hurrying to ride off toward the nearing battalions. The vicinity shook as dozens of horsemen joined with him, and some splintered off throughout other parts of the city. Stationed at the courtyard’s edge, the warriors sat staring up at the castle in expectation.
    Morlen absorbed his loss of the only thing that had ever brought hope while realizing how truly lacking he was. Any chance of a fresh start now felt utterly gone.
    “Nottleforf,” he said, as though holding down his own bile, “I have nothing. I’ve been nothing, my whole life.”
    The wizard, taken aback and remaining silent, lifted his regard away from the soldiers and slowly looked down, feeling Morlen’s pain as if it were his own. And, he finally began to speak the words he’d tried to withhold for so long. “Morlen,” he said, “you… you are—”
    But suddenly, he was cut off by a scream of terror from the citadel’s peak. All nearby looked up to see that the king had been hurled from his balcony overlooking Korindelf, flailing downward before he hit the stone base with a nauseating crash. Dreadful cries erupted on all sides, and Felkoth’s soldiers, recognizing their signal, stampeded through the