Lores turned out to be someone who wants to be the best in whatever they do. Before now, Mo had told him that winning the contest did not hold much importance to Snowfall Palace, but Lores just felt the urge to task himself with the position of the winner.
The princes took the contest as a medium to impress the king on their quest to be the crown prince. They must put up an outstanding performance if they must leave an indentation on their mission for the throne.
Prince Berg who saw the throne as his prime concern knew how pivotal winning the contest was to him. He did not disappoint. He was the first contestant to qualify for the second tier.
Prince Karick who thought the first prince was on his side bore in mind that the latter would tolerantly allow him emerge as winner. The first huddle was almost done and dusted. He was on his way to the second tier.
Mo watched from his spot with his cheek relaxing on the dorsal side of his hand. Was Snowfall Palace really getting knocked out in just the first tier of the contest? Although Seven seemed not to be the favourite, an incredible optimism in Seven grew inside of Mo. After all, Seven was a human with a lot of surprise packages. He was a surpriser by nature.
Lores recalled what he grasped from Vicksen while learning archery from him. 'it takes mind coordination for an excellent concentration' the knight had said.
"Now Lores focus. Concentrate. Do not mind what you see."
He took another arrow, and aimed for the second shot. When he was sure that his mind was as still as water, he released the arrow. It struck the target with a tremendous volant accuracy.
Now there were thirteen people remaining, and no more than three could progress to the next round. This idea made the competition more intense. They all had beads of sweat on their forehead. After daydreaming of receiving the golden bow from the king that would eventually change their status, they seemed to be apparently letting go of this golden opportunity.
However, Lores' intention was different. Other than testing his abilities and probably not trying to bring shame to Snowfall Palace, there was no other motive with respect to his status.
He took the third arrow and went for his third shot. He could hear 'two contestants remaining!' from the sidelines. He instantly became more focused and determined. He pulled the bowstring with his might, and let go of the shaft. Mo watched his representative with anticipation. His index finger gently stroked the moonstone ring on his thumb while he watched closely. The other hand held his knee. He longed to see one of those outstanding performance from Seven again.
Lores watched his arrow drift towards the target as he galloped over the yarn rope.
"One contestant remaining!" Lores sighed. A smile of relief animated his face as held up his bow. Mo relaxed on his seat and breathed a long quiet sigh. Now Snowfall Palace was lucky enough not to be kicked out from the first tier.
When Karick noticed that Lores had scaled through, he frowned. Besides getting the golden bow, the other thing he pined for was the downfall of Snowfall Palace. He clenched his fist owing to the progress of his archrival.
Few breaths later, a lackey of the second prince on the pretext of aiming for the last spot, shot an arrow that was destined not to hit the target. The arrow flew towards a certain someone and was about to strike them.
The lieutenant governor was on alert. He stood up at once. He quickly grabbed a bow and arrow from a closeby knight. As he pulled back, energy was seen surging from him.
His arrow was embedded in a burst of energy as it flew with an insane speed through the air. It collided with the killing inclined arrow, and diverted its destination. Due to the burst of energy it came along with, the killing inclined arrow did not go unscathed. The collision saw the arrow disintegrate to pieces and beyond mending.
After a silence of astonishment, people began to mumble. As soon as the lackey realized the plan was unsuccessful, he resorted to begging for mercy. Had it been he succeeded, he would have asserted it to be an unintentional act.
Lores was amazed. At the same time, he could tell it was a conspiracy. Few seconds ago, he could've died in place of Mo before even seeing his father. The poor prince has so many enemies, he thought to himself.
Mo was startled. Berg wasn't the type who'd be so absurd to act with such brazen and unreserved attitude in front of everyone. He balled a fist upon realizing the culprit. He jaw slowly dropped and his slender brows were arced, yet he still maintained his princely demeanor. Only hilbwet who was by his side noticed his mutation of emotion.
The king was as calm as a dove. He could read the whole scene like the back of his hand. Inwardly, he was disappointed by the ridiculous move made by the culprit. On his personal quest to tame the rivalry, he never downplayed the means by which his sons tussled for the crown. He found enthusiasm in assessing the methods employed by the princes.
Meanwhile, Karick had everything planned out. He might not have resorted to such brazen approach had Mo participated in the contest himself. He knew too well that even if Lores was killed, the king and the nobles wouldn't pay much mind to it considering that the killed contestant was nobody but a mere guard from Snowfall Palace.
The lackey alighted from his horse and ran towards the distinguished area where the nobles sat. He knelt down with a remorseful mien which no one knew if it was sincere or not. He raised his voice audible enough for all to here.
"Your majesty! My lords! Do pardon my ineptness. The attempt to kill a fellow contestant was not intentional. As a punishment for my folly act, I am willing to relinquish my participation in the next contest."
There was a long silence as if the king didn't know what to say. The lackey remained on his knees with head facing the ground. He never expected the gravity of the incident to be that serious. It was just a mere guard after all!
Moments later, the king whispered to his hunching eunuch.
"Whose child is that?"
"The step son of a Lord Suzerain."
The lieutenant governor gave the king a questioning look. King Elead responded by throwing his jaw. The governor handed back the bow to the knight and placed a hand on his midriff. He stared for a while at the person below with focus. The fellow, although not looking up, could feel the uneasiness and weight of the stare. It was as if a parasite was draining every energy out of him. Later on, the lieutenant governor finally decided to speak.
"You claimed your action to be a mistake which is quite unconvincing. Listen, personal grudge shouldn't be brought into this auspicious sport. If there are people who are better than you, then you should work hard on yourself. This contest requires independence and individual performance. You should neither help nor be helped. And by the way, who are you to mete out your own punishment in front of His Majesty?"
The fellow sucked in cold air. The situation was going south beyond his expectation.
"I...I just....well, I only thought to be responsible for my action. I...I thought my heartfelt apology and willingness to accept punishment will win His Majesty's mercy."
"Win his Majesty's mercy? No, I think you're currying his Majesty's favour to heed your plea." A mellow voice interfered. All eyes were directed to the source. Prince Mo was standing graciously, a hand hidden behind, his ghastly fair skin revealing his arrogant handsomeness. It was difficult to predict his anger due to his calmness and composure. Lores could perceive that Mo was angry. Ever since he knew Mo, he had not seen him burst into a feat of rage but getting justice for Snowfall Palace was something Mo wouldn't make light of.
"What's your name?" Mo asked.
"I'm Harris Stallion from Welling." The fellow replied skittishly.
"Oh, you must be a relative of the the Lord of Welling. Harris, how dare you make a decision on your punishment. What insolence! In my opinion, I think you only asked for a punishment that wouldn't be severe to you. If it takes nothing from you then how can it be called a punishment? I will not turn a blind eye so long as Snowfall Palace is involved in this" Mo turned to the king. "Father, I ask for permission to mete out his punishment."
King Elead raised his head. After a good look at Mo, he raised his eyebrows and spoke nonchalantly.
"Does he really need to be punished? After all, he only attempted to kill a mere guard. Nothing so serious."
"The attempt to kill my guard is a slap on my face. Next, they will come after me." Mo said immediately. When King Elead saw the resolution on Mo's face, he breathed a long sigh and spoke in a lowered but clear tone.
"As you wish. But I do not have to tell you his life must not be involved." The idea of killing an aristocrat over a guard was not considered an option and could not be executed. King Elead hinted a reminder with his words, and it made sense to the nobles.
Now that an ally of the second prince was at Mo's disposal, it was a perfect chance to root out one of the former's branches. Although, Harris managed to preserve his life but his life would never be of relevance so long as the capital was concerned.
"You've been exempted from death punishment. Thanks to your aristocratic origin. Nevertheless, if I don't send warning to others like you, I'm afraid that someday anybody can come at me and end my life. Therefore, I will mete out the punishment deserving of your ill mannered act. Childe Harris I hope you understand my purpose. Harris Stallion, a relative of the Lord of Welling, in an act that bore no good intention attempted to kill the representative of Snowfall Palace and a fellow contestant, thereby, disrupting the air of expectancy and harmony created by this grand and auspicious event. As a punishment for his vile deed, he is hereby banished from the capital and sent to the northern border to guard and defend it with his life."
Horror floated across Harris' face. If there was any life at all he prayed not to live, it would be the lives of soldier who guarded the borders. They were exposed to all kind of perils, inclusive of weather, welfare and political factors. In fact, it was synonymous to spending a decade of one's life in a dungeon where they never know the bright sunny day or the cold waning moon, the warmth offered by family and good meals. Moreover, he would have to fight alongside common soldiers, some of whom he may have in someway offended.
Some of the nobles felt that the punishment levied was quite harsh on the young noble, but they dared not voice their thought as it would inadvertently or discretely expose their political stance, and probably bring them unfavourable circumstances in the future. The wise ones thought of it as a bad blood between the princes, and opted not to interlope.
Prince Karick, however, found it ridiculous and unacceptable. Seeing the way Mo gave out punishment with the power behooved of a regent in the midst of so many people was more than a enough for him to blow a fuse.
"Brother, you're being too cruel. The elites are the bedrock of the archery contest. You should at least preserve their respect."
Mo hesitated a little. As expected, Karick was going to oppose the order.
"Brother, you seem to have misplaced thoughts on this. What could be more cruel than killing an innocent person?" Mo paused, then scoffed. "Preserve their respect? What, you don't think I have that same respect that ought to be preserved? Brother, I must ask you. What is a government without justice?"
"You favour a guard over an elite. I think you're the one undermining your respect. As we all know, the archery contest is a distinguishable event. Your act of ceasing to participate already shows your lack of reverence for it. You've thrown the dignity of the elites to the dust with your frivolous course of upholding justice. With this folly act of yours, not only have you equated the aristocratic and non-elite families, you are also inciting them to rebel. I doubt if you'll be able to handle the consequences."
When Karick was done speaking, Mo scoffed again.
"Dignity? What do you know of dignity? It is you who have thrown away your dignity by your underhanded conspiracy!" He bellowed, his anger manifesting a furious countenance. "This same people you mistreat are the ones who build your houses, sew your raiments and plant the crops you eat..."
"Enough!" King Elead chimed vehemently. To see Mo make supportive utterances of commoners was quite judgemental to the sovereign. What's more, the public exchange of words virtually made known the strife of the royal family. After a moment of absolute silence, The king breathed a sigh.
"The both of you have uncommendable temperaments. What a shame! The life of a guard will not disrupt this auspicious event. Having said that, the punishment meted out by the third prince still stands, and the contest is adjourned for an hour."
Harris sat helplessly on the prairie. His political dreams had been shattered. All he did was just make one silly mistake, and everything crumbled like the chaff of a summer threshing-floor.
Lores developed a soft spot for Mo in his heart after witnessing how the prince stood for the average citizens. It wasn't something he thought Mo would do giving his lack of concern for the orlay of others. And from the way Mo opposed his brother, he was seemingly very pained that he could no longer withhold his anger.
Lores sensed the bad blood Mo had with his relatives. He couldn't help but but shake his head and scoffed. Then he muttered to himself.
"They claim that a prospective disaster will emanate from the east. It will be a thing of no surprise if they end up bringing the said disaster upon themselves."
-
After witnessing the melodrama between the princes, everyone had retired to their tents for the short break. Hilbwet stood watch outside Prince Mo's tent. Perceiving that the prince could be in a likely danger at any time, he took no chances doing the needful. He stood upright like a bottle, a hand holding his hilt.
Lores approached the tent but was held up by Hilbwet. Before now, the prince had ordered that he needed to be alone to settle his nerves. Meanwhile, Lores had things to talk to Mo about. He moved to the left and right to face the same situation of being intercepted by Hilbwet. Afterwards, he met a stern expression of the guard; an obvious warning that he was exceeding his boundary.
When Lores saw the adamancy of Hilbwet, he had no other option but to voice his thought.
"Agent Seven seeks an audience with the prince." Half a beat later, a voice came from inside the tent.
"Let him in." Hilbwet lowered his guard and Lores stepped in. Mo and his maids were the only ones inside. After Lores entered, Mo who had been standing left for his seat at the other end, and sat behind his desk.
"Why are you here?" Lores scrupled for a while.
"I couldn't have been more startled than you. I could've been hit by that arrow."
"It's good you're well and sound. Considering that you recently recovered from a grave injury, it wouldn't be good to be bedridden again."
Lores sighed quietly before finishing his thought. "If how far you've come is for the interest of others then you have my....full support." Lores didn't know why but he was suppose to utilize his fidelity to Mo as a scope to get every vital information and not swayed by an act of generosity. After noticing Mo's innate difference from his relatives, only then did he grasp the innate nature of the prince. Mo wasn't arrogant. He was just a lonely sadist. The fact that he was friendlier to nature than humans proved Lores' perception.
Of course Mo failed to assimilate the hidden meaning. He stared at Lores with a hint of perplexity.
"Oh, so before now you weren't giving your full support?" Lores started.
"No...not that. I didn't mean that, my prince. I just thought that if the Lizians see hope in you, if you have their hearts, then you're not far from success. It's natural to feel elevated when you know how important you are to someone, how they are ready to fight for or with you. Nobody wants to die for nothing because they know they live for a course. They want to live to see what they've accomplished." Lores couldn't recall if he'd ever spoken with such sincerity when dialoguing with Mo.
In an era of dominion, full-fledged aristocracy, slavery, an era when people's lives were measured by virtue of their societal status, it was really precious to see someone who still knew the meaning of a life.
Mo mused for a while. No one had ever shown any desire to share his burden. He looked meaningfully at Lores. He may not have known the type of life his escort guard lived previously, but he could tell the scene that occurred during the contest meant a lot to him. He wasn't good at associating with people, and he'd thought he was well off with his wealth without having to need anything from anybody. His individualism suddenly made him cold towards people, such that anyone could misconstrue his personality.
"You think the Lizians will have a reason to live because of a mere hope?" Mo asked softly, out of sentiment. Now his title as a protector posed a more deeper meaning to him.
"Hope is not mere. It is a dream that has been awakened. Envision the kind of future you want for the people." Mo shot Lores a discerning gaze.
"Seven, are you lecturing me?" Lores raised a brow. He exhaled deeply and folded his arms. The pride of prince Mo has pride.
"And so? Are you too big to receive lectures?" Lores contorted a whimsy frown. Mo chortled, pointing at Lores.
"Most painfully so, that's so not a lie." Lores smiled and sat on a little stool at the side of the tent. He lifted his head rapidly upon remembering something.
"My prince, that man who shot the arrow...who was he?" Seeing another mage in the capital aroused the curiosity of Lores. That man was undoubtedly stronger than him beyond measure. Given that he had yet to reach the stage of such magic prowess, he better not in anyway, cross paths with that man if he was bent on accomplishing his mission. In addition, he still had the archmage to be wary of.
Mo answered for the purpose of offering knowledge.
"Ah, the lieutenant governor. He is the second-in-command to the king. His words are the words of the king. He is a powerful and complicated man. You must have been bewildered to see a mage in the archery contest. Actually, he's the student of the archmage, the only fourth tier mage in the world. With the presence of the governor and the archmage, our enemies dare not make any rash decision."
"Oh, then he must've been so strong to be able to obtain this level of respect."
"I heard he was pivotal to the fall of the Eastern Province." Mo said gently. Lores' eyes sharpened.
"Eastern Province? Of course Solice was an Eastern Province. Mo could probably be hinting on the fall of my kingdom. Since he brought it up himself, I should ask him some questions."
Lores cleared his throat, a finger scraping his jaw. He wouldn't just ask questions but diplomatic questions.
"Fall of the Eastern Province? That is indeed a great contribution on the side of the kingdom of Liz. I'd love to hear more of his accomplishment with regards to that. My prince, this humble one is asking to expand his knowledge."
"I don't know much of the details. I was only little when it all happened." Mo casually said, leaving his guard to sigh in disappointment. Lores placed his hand on his forehead. "Of course you don't know. What, were you still sucking when it all happened? Is there anything else you know?"
"Speaking of which, I heard he was responsible for capturing the crown prince of Solice. Being one of father's most trusted aides, he was promoted to a lieutenant governor owing to his contribution. That's all I know." Mo added. Lores turned swiftly, his expression zoning faraway.
"That son of a bitch! It is as Vicksen had said. Having known that, he must be aware of father's whereabouts. It's settled. I will use Mo to get information from him."
"Seven, you seem lost. What's on your mind?" The prince enquired after observing Lores. The latter jolted out of his train of thoughts, then laughed like an ignorant fool.
"Ah, I was wondering how familiar you are with the concept of magery. You seem able to evaluate the agility of that man." Lores spoke capriciously. Prince Mo thought in confusion for a while. He wondered where the puzzling question was coming from.
"Do I need to know the concept of magery to be able to evaluate the agility of someone?" He thought but he answered all the same.
"I'm not fit to be a practitioner, so my knowledge of magery is shallow. It doesn't stop me from knowing how strong a person can be."
Karick's tent
"What was that suppose to mean? That was a reckless act. I told you we were not suppose to make rash decisions. The Lord Suzerain is a member of the privy council. Now what have you gained from it? Losing an ally? What now? The Stallion family will either stay neutral or switch sides." Bergwain squabbled. A leisurely seated Karick laughed as two ladies attended to his needs. One massaged while the other fanned him gently.
"Brother, it's alright. Don't make a fuss. He's just a Lord Suzerain after all. When next father administers and distributes the lands and the lords scramble for it, he may not even be able to retain his title." He took a red grape from a bowl, and stretched it towards berg. "Hey, it was brought from the suburbs by my subordinates. The grapes in the capital are not as tasty as these ones. You should try it. If you like it, I can give you the seeds to plant in your fief."
Berg stared hesitantly at Karick before taking it. "Even so, we cannot easily discard our allies. We have to tread meticulously and with caution. We don't have to risk losing any ally as they can be handy at any point in time. You should know that some allies are reserved for expediency." Karick sighed dramatically before speaking.
"I know. What is the purpose of having so many allies if not for expediency. Brother, you're in such a haste to point out my shortcoming, but you fail to see how miserable third brother is right now." He paused to laugh scornfully. "His behaviour today puts him in a tight spot. Commending the commoners was judgemental to the king, and threatened the authority of the nobles. It's no-brainer to deduce the dissatisfaction of the nobles. From the outset, the nobles have ruled without contention. Who'd want a king that would not be able to secure the authority of the aristocrats. Speaking of the Stallions, they wouldn't want to cahoot with someone who sent a relative of theirs to the northern border. Oh, what has my dear brother done to himself?" He simpered, a look of mockery colouring his face while he jittered his head.
Berg smirked.
"Brother is truly far-sighted. Maybe I was being too rigorous." He threw the grape between his teeth and crushed it.
"Mmm it has a mellow taste that comes with a soothing feeling. It would be a shame not to cultivate this magical fruit."