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Ambassador Raick of Kalimy ran out to the corridor to greet his king then he led the royal guests to the council chamber to meet with Posadom and Swayne. The two brothers-in-law hugged and kissed, and Posadom turned to offer his nephew, Seth, the same welcome. Kelt turned to Swayne, “Dear Swyane, you had shown more faithfulness than even myself. How can I ever thank you for coming to my brother’s aid so swiftly.” Swayne answered, “Netherweld and Santurst had always been allies. The measure of help I give Posadom, is the measure of help I give myself. There is no need for you to thank me.” The palace guards brought out a high seat and placed it next to Posadom’s. Kelt smiled and shook his head. “I brought no army with me. I only come as a guest.” Swayne sensed that the remark was made by a king who felt too shamed by his own ineffective authority. She said in a hard voice, “You have placed something more important than the army of Kalimy on the parapets. Of course you shall take your seat next to Posadom, else I will be forced to sit at the council table with you.” Kelt stared with surprise at the proud face before him, for there was neither kindness nor charity in Swayne’s voice. Posadom pointed to a spot next to his chair, and the guards placed the new seat there. Then Posadom invited Swayne and Kelt to take their seat. Rubbish, logs and bloated animals plied the river, disturbed only by soft ripples coming from a solitary boat. Ten soldiers hunched low and swung paddles which they dipped into the water as silently as they could. They drifted far from the shore and appeared like a lost log in the distance. Clarence and Charles watched out for the border mark which was a large white standing stone embedded into the river. Clarence tapped on the side of the boat and they slowed. The company turned into a narrow tributary. Soon the mouth of a dark tunnel loomed above them. Though it was pitch dark, they did not light a torch. Now the company sat up, and rowed without fear of discovery. While Makil put his hand in the water to judge how fast they were moving, thus allowing him to guess how far into the tunnel they had travelled. When he felt that they had journeyed the distance of two miles, he struck a flint and lit a torch. A small jetty appeared a few feet ahead. The boat glided forward and before it struck the wooden jetty, Harbuq push one foot against the side to prevent echoes inside the enclosed cavern. The soldiers came out of the boat by turn. Clarence signalled for assistance to lift the boat up and to turn it upside-down on the broad jetty, for the unfamiliar surroundings and choppy water made him nervous. He had seen swirls when Makil lit the torch, and rivulets of water dripped from the ceiling along the cavern walls. He wondered when the tunnel was last reinforced, but he kept his concerns to himself. Makil decided to take off his metal spike shoes since he could not know if the floors in the mansion were carpeted or bare. Haim and Belwon emulated him but the others had padded soles and kept their shoes on. Charles led the way. They climbed up a flight of stairs then walked down a corridor. They turned left, and reached a secret doorway that barred their way. Charles put his finger to his lips and extinguished the torch. He pressed himself against the door. A few moments later a crack of moonlight came through. Charles stood up and opened the door wide. He waved them out and shut the secret doorway after the last person. The moon revealed a sparsely furnished room dusty from lack of use. Makil was not pleased as it meant that they would leave tracks in the dust. He nodded his head to Charles, and signalled for him to lead the way. The middle aged soldier crept forward into an empty corridor. At the end of the passage, they climbed up a flight of stairs. Charles paused at the top steps to listen then turned into a narrow service passageway that forced the group to move in single file. He recalled that at the end of the passage was an underground hall which was often used by the Baron as a council room. The muffled tones that Charles had heard became louder and angry voices began to float down the passage. The way widened abruptly and became a room where shelves filled with long wax tapers ran along the wall. Charles crossed the room and opened a small door then he crouched low and crept through. Green and brown banners hung from the balcony and unfurled down to the hall below where a large wooden mahogany table seated twenty angry men. Four servants poured wine into chalices placed around the table, closely watched by two guards who stood just inside the door. Charles could see more soldiers outside. His eyes searched the area to make sure that there had not been any new renovations. He returned, squatted down and drew invincible lines with his fingers and the soldiers memorized the layout of the service balcony he drew. Makil pointed to each soldier by turn and showed them where they were to take position. Belwon and Merlana would stand in the center of the whole length of the balcony to get a good view of the room. Ruthil would cover Bulgarth and Haim as they brace themselves against the two paneled door, which had no lock or bolt on the inside. Makil, Tila and Harbuq would run down into the hall with their swords and hew down as many as they could. Charles and Clarence were to remain in the room because they were there to guide the survivors back to safety. Once everyone nodded to show that they understood their roles, Makil put out his right arm and his company placed their hands one next to the other, starting with Bulgarth who gripped his wrist and ending with Charles whose hand fitted on his shoulder. Makil squeezed his hand in front of Harbuq’s because he was going down before his friend. They trailed out, crouching behind the covered railings. Bulgarth and Haim crept towards the steep staircase. Ruthil squeeze herself against a column facing the stairs and the door. The two bow-handlers slipped out and sneaked to their positions. Makil, Harbuq and Tila unsheathed their swords and squatted behind the two strong men. Merlana eyed Palmeon, while Belwon’s eyes fell on Raul. Charles stood guard at the single entrance to the service room, in case a sentry or a servant should chance by. A man with rough brown hair and beard slammed his fist on the table and stood up, “Is this some game that you are leading us into? If it is, then should there not be more honour in winning?” Brocod pointed an accusing finger at the man, “You dare throw your incompetence at us? It was you who led the army down the wrong road.” The man shouted his response, “The instruction you sent was only partially reliable and that may be as good as not reliable at all.” Pluit, one of Palmeon’s trusted men argued, “Our instructions were reliable enough when you made your way to Sillander. How you manage to lost yourself when you reached here is beyond my comprehension. Even a child knows which road to take to the palace.” Palmeon raised a weary hand, “Please, friends, we have been arguing about this since last night. We are here to decide on what to do next.” The brown bearded man sneered in return, “Of course you would like to talk about something else. What better way to forget the incompetence of your people.” Raul chuckled and said, “Do not be bothered over that march, Mica. I believe that Palmeon has something in the making now. Something that will turn the tide in our favor.” Brocod nodded towards his prince, yes, the assassin had been contacted. Palmeon turned to Raul, “It shall be as you say. I will not fail.” Raul laughed and raised his glass for a toast. The servants exited and the guards closed the doors, leaving the council alone in the hall. Makil gave the signal. Bulgarth and Haim pummelled down the stairs. Palmeon looked up with annoyance. Bulgarth jumped clear of the last three steps and threw himself on the door. A Merlk officer brandished his sword but Ruthil shot him down with an arrow to his side. Haim took his position next to Bulgarth and they braced themselves against the oak door. The officers in the hall had attained their positions with praises and not talents, hence not one could protect the King of Merlk when he needed the skill the most. Tila cut down Mica easily, for his strokes were slow and unsure. Then she turned and sliced another man in brown uniform with her sharp rapier. Pluit and Brocod tried to run, but Harbuq cut them down with a double stroke each, as neither his left nor his right hand showed mercy. Belwon’s thick arrow swished over his head and cracked the skull of a man with a sword raised in mid-stroke. Then he pulled another arrow and aimed it at Raul who received a fatal wound right in his throat. Merlana missed because her target had thrown himself on the floor but her second arrow caught Palmeon right in the heart before he could take cover behind a column. Makil swung his sword like a sickle against four men who charged him, striking them down by spilling the contents of their black hearts on to the floor. After surveying with his eyes that there were none left alive, Makil gave the shout signal for his company to retreat. They were there to kill only a handful of people, not fight a whole army and Makil although young, knew that even a strong person has physical limits. A hard crash bounced against the door. Haim and Bulgarth pressed themselves harder against the door, and timed the swing of the battering ram. After the last sword bearer had reached the stairs, they sprang from the door as they felt the wood heaved back for the next swing. The door flung wide open at the next crash and brown shapes sprawled all over the floor. Three guards broke their fingers. Charles ran back into the passage ahead of the group. Belwon was the last person out of the balcony, right after his bow had struck down two pursuers with a single thick arrow. He whooped, surprised at his own strength, then rushed after his companions. Voices surged towards them from the direction they faced, so Charles made a right turn into a dark corridor. He turned left and down another dusty passage. Makil prayed that the pursuers had no sense to look down at the floor, for he could feel the dirt clinging onto the bottom of his feet. The company barely saw one another in the dark but nobody overtook anyone else. When the person in front stopped, everyone stopped, when he crouched everyone crouched. When he held his breath the person directly behind him did likewise, and the person behind this other person would also hold her breath. They were ten, but they moved as one body. Charles crept on, straining his ears for any unfamiliar sounds. The mission had gone better than expected. He saw the wound inflicted on the enemy and knew that neither Raul nor Palmeon could have survived. Now he had to make sure that the group returns safely to the underground jetty. Then it would be Clarence’s turn to lead them down the river. Belwon felt a new presence, he put his hand on Haim’s shoulder and this fellow likewise put his hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. The whole company stopped to listen. Nothing. After a while they resumed their pace. Makil broke into a sweat. Belwon is not an imaginative person, and he could not have created the presence he felt. Yet an enemy would have shouted to alert their pursuers. Distant voices drifted towards them, though it was difficult to tell how far they were because the echoes in the empty corridor was disorientating. Albert recognized Charles, although the older features surprised him. The boy-man watched the group until they turned into another passage. Then he bent down and moved the ragged feather duster in his hand in wide arches on the part of the floor that showed their tracks. He moved backwards as he swept dust from the side onto the fresh tracks. No one must know that Bubba’s friends had come in secret. His father had always taught him that nobody must know Bubba had secret friends. So he came here every night, to make sure that no one would find out. He missed his father and he missed Bubba, but that did not mean that he should forget what was important to them. In the second corridor Albert stopped, the voices were louder. He ran into an unused room, hiding his tracks as he did so, then he climbed up the cupboard and out a ventilation window. He crept through the garden back to his shack. The trackers moved purposefully in front of a group of sixty men. They stopped and an argument broke out. A few went into the nearest room, but saw nobody. One soldier climbed up to peek through the ventilation window. Another called out, “Don’t be a fool. That window is too small even for you to crawl out of.” “Well then, maybe you can explain how they manage to just disappear like that. What they suddenly sprouted wings maybe?” “Climb through then and look for them. I will look down the other corridors maybe we will find those tracks again.” Charles heaved a sigh of relief when they reached the secret door. He turned a flower motif on the wall upside-down and the doorway opened. He counted the company as they filed pass, they had lost no one and none seemed to be hurt. Then he led them back to the jetty in the darkness. The noise of water falling like rain surprised Charles. He had used that way before to visit Bubba but the water had never been that noisome. Clarence hissed, “Moved, the tunnel is caving in. Haim, Bulgarth, help me put the boat back in the river.” Makil stepped back into the tunnel and lit an extra torch, for they needed the light to get into the boat. The prince jumped in last and, instantly, the torch was doused by falling water. Clarence perched himself at the fore and to the right, with a long rod in his hand to test the way ahead. Tila squatted next to him and used a paddle to evade rocks or walls to their left. The others rowed frantically, with Clarence's warning ringing in their ears. After what seemed an eternity, the cavern opening revealed a clear and starry night sky. Merlana fixed her eyes on a single bright star. Though her arm screamed for relief, she could not stop. A loud crash howled behind them. The boat rose and Clarence shouted, “Brace yourselves!!” Charles gripped his side of the boat as hard as he could. The roof of the cavern mouth filled his vision, he ducked, expecting at any moment to feel a crushing blow but instead felt himself floating. Charles closed his eyes. Then he felt himself falling and he opened his eyes again to find himself looking straight down at the river from a height he could not ascertain. Soldiers experienced in many dangers shriek like children. Suddenly, the boat lurched upward and plunked rudely back on the water, making some loose their grip. The last of the high waves exited the tunnel, and pushed them farther. They were shock to find themselves still in the boat. Clarence broke the stunned silence, “That was a ride I will never want to repeat.” Makil started laughing and between breaths he said, “I lost my shoes.” Haim looked down at his own bare feet and snickered. Very soon everyone was holding onto their sides and chortling. Belwon dangled his feet from the side and they all guffawed because the pair of appendages was long and gangly enough to dip into the water. The river current drifted them towards the inner city. They had lost their paddles and nobody could agree on how had happened. Kordin and Brent looked out for their brave soldiers anxiously on the parapets. Both were glad to see them but neither was pleased to hear the racket they were making. Then they saw their heroes and heroines leaned over the side and paddled with their hands towards the pier. Stern eyes awaited them at the pier. Keldina ran up to Makil and hugged him the moment he got off the boat and he returned the embrace gladly. Kordin asked, “What happened? Was the mission successful? And why are you without your shoes your highness?” His last question drew another laugh from the company. Makil recounted everything as they walked back to the carriages, unconscious that he was holding onto Keldina's hand. She climbed into the same carriage with him, Charles and the generals. Brent thought that he had never seen a happier young princess in his whole life but then his heart became heavy. Brent cleared his throat, “Princess Keldina, have news reached you that your father and brother are both in Sillander?” Keldina was elated. “Oh, that is wonderful news.” She turned to look at her beloved, “You must meet Seth, my brother. You will like him.” A passing lamplight cast its glow on Kordin’s face. Makil saw the expression there and understood. Much as he wished to spend his life with this woman, his first duty was to his people and the maintenance of peace between Santurst and Kalimy. Palace guards held the carriage door open as the generals and their companions alighted. Keldina again grabbed Makil’s hand and rushed up the steps with him to the top of the stairs where three monarchs stood waiting. So, Swayne thought to herself, we can no longer postpone this to a later date. Keldina has shown her choice in public. Makil bowed before them, and Kordin almost fainted from happiness. Posadom praised the virtues of the Prince of Santurst as he said, “You and your company had done excellently Makil. A guard ran up from the pier to bring us this news. What do you propose we do next?” Makil was caught off guard, but managed to say, “We slew twenty, four were men of Netherweld. Another sixteen were the king of Merlk and his high officers. They were in the midst of planning their next strategy.” Swayned asked, “The two are down then.” Makil answered, “Yes, mother. Belwon struck down Raul, and we could see that the arrow had pinned him down to the chair he had sat on.” Then he turned to Posadom, his voice sad, “I am sorry your majesty, Prince Palmeon also received a fatal wound, but as you requested, the wound was inflicted by a Netherweld citizen who acted as your representative.” He continued, “The army of Merlk is now in the city, they are without food and without leader. We can ask them to surrender and guarantee a safe passage back to Merlk for them or we can send an army to fight with their fragmented ones. Whichever choice your majesty chooses, Santurst will be supportive.” Posadom thoughtfully stroke his beard, a moment later he indicated for them to follow him back into the palace. Makil kissed his princess’s hands before releasing her. There would be no rest for him that night. She reached for another hand, her brother’s. Kelt fumed to see them together. Santurst was a harsh land. Her borders are constantly attacked by marauders from Merlk. He could not allow his daughter to marry Makil, even if he were a jewel amongst princes. Swayne understood the look on Kelt’s face. There would be no union between her Makil and his Keldina. She had suspected as much. Ahead of them, Posadom had his arms around Makil’s shoulder. She decided to talk to Kelt and to give him a chance to air his feelings. A small old woman, who bore a small bundle in one hand, limped down the corridor towards them. She moved to the right side of the corridor and bowed respectfully, waiting for her king to pass. Makil thought it strange that he had never seen her in that part of the palace before. There were few old people in Santurst and seeing them always filled him with awe and reverence, so he tended to remember every single old person he met. Kelt called his name and he turned, at that instant he saw the woman sprang towards Posadom. Without thinking, Makil threw himself against her. A fatal habit, for he was without his breastplate. A sharp pain pierced his chest then his body went numb. Hands pulled him back and he crumpled to the floor. He tried to get up but he could not. He had so much strength, yet now he could call on none. His mother shouted his name and he choked a reply. He tried to focus his eyes but her face blurred in his vision. Then he heard screams and crying, slowly everything went dark. The usually efficient royal physician was at a loss when guards carried Makil to the tents. Juna told him that in her land healers sew wounds of internal organs with needle and thread. They boiled knives and Fenbach washed his hands with spirit then Juna partitioned off a section of the tent and together with a three other volunteers, wiped the wooden table with more spirit. In that closed off section Fenbach, assisted by two healers, cut open the prince’s chest a little wider. Then he raised ribs and muscle to reach the heart. Although the knife had grazed but not cut into it, blood oozes out with each throbbing. He grasped the shallow wound, stitched it close and thereafter the chest. There was so much blood on the floor, on his hands and on his robe. The physician sat back and waited for his patient to die. A chamber in the palace, just across from the healer’s tent was cleared out and a bed placed in it. Four men moved the prince there for the remainder of the night. Kelt stood by the side of the sick bed, where his daughter had cried herself to sleep. Makil had taken a fatal wound for Posadom and now she was suffering. A victory was scored against Merlk but the armies and the people were silent, as though it was them who had lost the war. The sorrow was more than he could bear. He turned his eyes away, and returned to the throne room. As he stood next to Swayne, to offer her silent company, the advisors of Santurst marched in and bowed before them. Swayne asked, “You have made a decision? Who have you chosen?” His voice quaking with emotion, Kordin said, “We named Harbuq, the son of Ambassador Branduil as your successor my queen.” A hue and cry rose from the nobles and officials of Netherweld and Kalimy. What is going on, what had just happened. Swayne raised her hand, her face harsh and emotionless. “My people need a new monarch. If the line of my husband should end, Santurst at least will have a new king.” The throne room hushed, because nobody knew what to say. Swayne was already preparing for her son’s funeral even while he still lived. But the healers had shown little hope, and Fenbach did not believe that he would last until dawn. Kelt went to a window and turned his grieving eyes outside. The pain was unbearable and he knew that if the prince die that night, his daughter would bear that sorrow for the rest of her life. He looked out to the courtyard and watched the subdued activities. There was no joyful shout, no victorious singing. Guards had carried Makil to the healer’s tents, the soldier they had come to idolize as a hero and a champion. Kelt watched a soldier giving food to an old man sitting in the courtyard. The soldier sat down next to him and a few others came to join them. He smiled, for life was still right with the rest of the world. He looked up and beheld the stars. Suddenly a strange conviction rose in his being. It was so strong it felt like a living breathing mass in his belly. At that moment he prayed and begged Providence to spare the life of the boy, for he was still so young that anywhere else he would still be a boy. Then he looked down and he swore that if Providence should spare Makil’s life then he, Kelt would shave his head and become a beggar-teacher. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw the face of his son Seth and a father’s pride filled his heart. His strong and wise son would make a better king than him, Kelt thought to himself. For now that Raul was gone, the nations need new kings and new wisdoms . He walked with his son back to their chambers. Keldina had not returned. Kelt went down for breakfast at the unofficial dining hall and saw Swayne looking less haggard. It made his heart glad as he asked, “All looks well with you Swayne.” She smiled back. “Yes, Makil survived through the night. His breathing is stronger although he has not opened his eyes yet.” The overjoyed look on Kelt’s face touched Swayne. People streamed in and were happy to hear that Makil had survived through the night. Hence for the next few days Fenbach became the most harassed man in the palace. He had to deal with noblepersons who never had their wishes denied but his patient needed to rest. In the end he managed to chase everyone out and allowed only Keldina and Swayne to be in the room. Five days later, Makil opened his eyes and saw Keldina’s tear stained face. In a weak voice he said, “I am not dead yet, I am only thirsty.” She laughed and filled a mug with water for him then a healer’s assistant taught her how to give drink to a sick man. He closed his eyes and as he drifted off to sleep, he felt her lips on his cheek. He stayed awake longer that night and managed to finish a bowl of broth. The next morning saw him stronger. Harbuq came and hugged him like a brother. It made his skin crawl to think that he almost became an heir to the throne of Santurst. Much as he loved Swayne his queen, he did not relish the thought of being trained under her. Another three days saw Makil up and about, against Fenbach’s advice. The royal physician marvelled at his speed of recovery, yet he did not claim that the prince was healed by his skill, for he knew that the wound Makil had sustained was beyond any knowledge he knew on healing. Kelt watched all the happenings with happy eyes and they softened when he gazed upon his children. He had a quiet talk with Swayne and accepted the offer of marriage from Santurst on his daughter’s behalf then he said goodbye to her. Swayne asked, “Will you not talk to your children first?” Kelt shook his head, “No, they will try to stop me. I have made a promise to Providence and I will keep it.” “Life will be harsh, but I will try whatever I can to make it easier for you.” Kelt gave a soft laugh, “No, Swayne, you are wrong. Life would have been harder if your son had died. Keldina is a passionate child and his death would have broken her. This is the easier path. I will be free and I will travel the lands.” “Take everything you need with you.” “I have need of only a robe and a sandal. I will take them.” “No, that is not what I meant. Take a horse at least for your journey.” “Whoever heard of a beggar riding a horse?” he chuckled, “I am going tonight. Promise me you will tell no one. I have left a letter to my son and daughter. They will not understand but this way is best.” He turned and walked away and Swayne watched him until the ice in her harsh eyes melted. The army of Merlk surrendered and received a safe passage home. For many years to come the tribal chiefs of that nation warred against each other because they could not agree on any single leader, and Merlk broke into a land of many small nations. Posadom continued to rule for another fifteen years and he became the first king of Netherweld to put a crown on his heir’s head though he never revealed Palmeon’s origin to the public. Bulgarth and Juna returned to Dew Valley and the king awarded Hallskein to them. The first act of the new lord was to free the slaves and an ex-slave called Roth became his advisor. Though the law implementors scoured the country, Hamina and Hamlin was no where to be found. Frad and Sarah received the office of overseeing to the welfare of the poor in Sillander and the king allowed him to keep the name Frad of Dew Valley. His ideas amazed the city dwellers, for in a few short years the river became clean enough for a fisherman to make a good living. Clarence, who loved the river, went back to his father’s occupation, much to the disappointment of the old man. Merlana chose to serve under Casperlane and on his retirement she became the security captain. She never married though like Baron Kwanbie, her home was filled with her friend’s children. Hymae received an office in the Central House of Law and some years later he became the High Law Implementer, the wisest and fairest the land had ever known. He became acquainted with a notary named Ailin, who pestered him endlessly about the issue on the mistreatment of children. She annoyed him as much as a mosquito on a balmy day, yet he fell in love as her passion to put things right matched his. Charles received the position of Office Elector and he inherited the Kwanbie Mansion. After he moved into the mansion, he found out that it was Albert who had covered their tracks that night for the boy-man had waved a dirty, ragged duster to welcome him and told him what he did with it. Albert continued to keep secrets for his baron, and slept in one of the many rooms to keep guard. Branduil found grey, who had broken his right wing. A troop patrolling the woods close to Fort Greenwaters saw the red paint on his crown feathers and rushed him back to the fort. Though earlier than Frisk, he had arrived half a day later than Milk. As Branduil promised they found a warm valley in Santurst, a day’s ride from Wildaq the capital city. Makil shaved his head in honour of Kelt and he spent many long hours with the beggar teachers and learned much from them. He became a king not only mighty in sword but also in wisdom. His heir and descendents followed the tradition he started and they all shaved their heads before putting on the golden crown of Santurst. Makil’s line came to an end at the fifth generation from him when the crown prince passed his authority back to the people and walked out of the palace in the dead of night as his ancestor once did. An old man lay in a thicket by the roadside. He could not move. The warm air swarmed with flies, yet coldness had crept into his body. A clamour of hoofs and mail approached and soon he could make out horses with riders bearing the red and black banners of Santurst. Leading the procession was a bald man with a golden crown. Kelt then saw himself as a boy of nine riding next to the king. He closed his eyes, his breathing shallow. He recalled leaving the last of his parchments in the library of Wildaq the previous week. The boy saw the old man behind the thicket and stopped. He dismounted and went to him. “Father look, a beggar.” Makil strode to his son's side. He gazed down upon the decrepit old man who looked as though he had lain there for many days. The king took off his cloak and wrapped the beggar in it then he placed him in a wagon gently. The company continued their journey back to the royal palace in Wildaq. The old man was weak but still alive when they reached the city so King Makil ordered for him to be placed in the healing house. That afternoon Kelt opened his eyes and saw his own face looking down at him. He smiled. “Why are you here young one?” He asked in a weak voice. He forced his whole being to concentrate on staying awake. “I wish to stay with you grandfather.” Kelt’s old heart grew warm. “Would you like to hear a story?” The boy nodded shyly. Kelt smiled, a child still in many ways. “There was once a little puppy running around all by himself. Then he found an old dog, all alone lying in the sun. Dust was floating in the air and some covered his furs. He looked like he had lain there for many days. The puppy stopped playing and kept him company. The puppy was not doing anything, he just lay there next to the old dog. But the old dog was happy for the company. Rabbits had come up to him during the night and went off, foxes sniffed him but did not say hello. But that morning a beautiful special puppy kept him company. And he was happy. Yes, he was happy, as dusts continued to swirl and swirl in the sun about him.” Then he closed his eyes and breathed his last. Makil came with the pall bearers on receiving news of the beggar’s demise. He and his son led the way towards the family mausoleum. They placed the old man in a stone coffin and covered it with a slab. A workman carefully smoothed wet plaster over one part of the slab. Makil picked up a nail, but his son stopped him, “Let me do it father.” Makil passed him the nail and the boy wrote, Here lies my grandfather, who loved me before I was born and who gave up his life for my father. Written on the 68th day of Summer of the second year of Makil’s reign by his son, Kelt. The beggar never told them his name, so Kelt did not add it to the slab. His father smiled proudly as they made their way out. Rows upon rows of stone coffins lined the floor, each of which bore in Makil's hand the words, “Here lies my father, who gave up his life for me.” Three years later, Makil found Kelt’s parchment in Wildaq. Yet when he inquired, nobody had seen the old beggar for as many years. They all presumed that he had died. Those who knew him remembered a quiet old man who only talked to young children, telling them stories of valour with animal and plant characters. Most thought him mad, but none bore any grudge against him. The king held in his hand a story about a big puppy, a Great Dane that looked as big as any normal adult dog. He was playing with his friend a chick, when a snake came up and tried to eat her. The puppy saved his friend’s life but the poisonous snake bit his hind leg. The mother hen saw what had happened and cluck-cluck her anguish. Many more chickens came and made a great commotion. The farmer ran out, saw the trouble and sucked the poison out of him. Then he cleaned the wound and kept the dog warm. The puppy survived because the chickens that did not know what to do had called for someone who did. The writer had put down his name as Seth. Makil ordered for the scribes to copy down everything written by the beggar-teacher Seth and to send it to him in Wildaq. Keldina agreed that those were her father’s writings for some of the events in them were only known to him. The last unwritten story was locked in Kelt's heart, and he only realized that it was a gift from his grandfather after he had grown into a man. He never told his old parents because he reasoned that his grandfather would have told them who he was if he wanted to. Stars shone bright in Santurst as children grew unharmed into adulthood and adults lived to a great old age. The nation drew strength from a monument of hope built next to the royal palace, a mausoleum dedicated to the king of a foreign land.
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