Kallan

“Is that an Aeducan signet ring?” Gorim asked, noticing the crest on the ring Kallan had picked up. “I guess that's how they got in here.”

“It's Trian’s,” Kallan said tonelessly.

“The ring is Trian’s? That means he...” Gorim trailed off, unsure of where his realization was leading, and unsure if he liked it.

“Trian set us up?” Ivo asked.

“It would have been a major victory to get the shield first,” Gorim agreed. “But he showed his hand and failed. The first way we can hurt him is to find that shield ourselves,” he said confidently. Gorim wasn't a political creature by nature, but he felt certain of his deduction.

“No...” Kallan said. “Trian may be sloppy, but he has too much honor. He would never stoop to this--not to mercenaries, I mean,” he clarified. “I have no doubt that he aims to kill me. But this...? This reeks of Bhelen.”

“Bhelen? But why—” Ivo started, but Kallan cut him off.

“Oh, come off it, Ivo.” Kallan said distainfully. “We nobles have ambition like anyone else. More so, probably. I won't deny that I aim to be king. But so does Trian... and Bhelen. Trian is unlikely to have the votes in the assembly to be crowned. But I? I have enough votes. Bhelen knows that. He also knows that those votes could be his, if it weren't for the pesky little fact that I am older, and rather more well-known and liked.” The middle Aeducan didn't bother with the guise of modesty; in this company, it was unnecessary.

“So Bhelen wanted to have you killed…” Gorim mused.

“No. That was not his goal here,” Kallan shot down the assumptions of his second once again. “He wanted to have Trian framed for this, but why? Think, think...”

There was almost a minute of silence in the cave, as the rest of the expidition was unprepared to interrupt a lord’s political scheming. “Ivo!”Kallan shouted suddenly, turning to the young warrior. “You know something about this. What is Bhelen planning?”

“What, m--my lord?” Ivo stuttered under Kallan’s full scrutiny.

“Don't insult me, Ivo. I know you're Bhelen's man. That's your choice and your honor; you lose no respect in my eyes until you start lying to me here. Why is Bhelen trying to get Trian out of the picture, and not me?”

“I--I don't--I don't—”

“No...” Kallan whispered in sudden realization. “This is about me. He wants me to go against Trian, so he can paint his little narrative about my ambition, and how I would kill my own brother to gain power, so that he can move the assembly against me. But he knows I...”

“Oh...” Kallan whistled. “He's clever. But not clever enough. Trian's already out of the picture, isn't he? Bhelen plans to frame me for his murder, using you as a witness. Both of you?” he asked, turning to the scout who had been watching silently this entire time. The scout did not respond, and looked away from the prince. Kallan nodded in confirmation. “Both of you. And Gorim's word would be discounted, as it is common knowledge that he is my man. I would be put to death, exiled, what have you,” he waved his hand casually, “and Bhelen would be the only Aeducan heir. No more brothers to challenge him.”

“That's horrific!” Gorim exclaimed. “Framing you for the murder of your own brother? And to think that Bhelen would have Trian killed!”

Kallan shrugged. “Politics is a messy thing, Gorim. I try to keep out of the bloodshed--too many uncertainties. Still, you have to admire Bhelen's skill at the game. He would have won, if his opponent had been Trian and not myself. He nearly won, regardless. But he will never be a match for me.”

“What do we do now?” asked Gorim.

“Now that is where this gets tricky,” Kallan drummed his fingers along his own shield. “I may have figured out his plan, but that doesn't mean that the others will believe me--I assume Bhelen is bringing a host of his men into the Deep Roads with father this very minute, looking for us. First things first...” He threw something at Ivo. Trian's signet ring.

Ivo flailed slightly, but caught it. “My l-lord?” he asked.

“I'm not going to have that found on me, and it would be just as incriminating on Gorim. You are known as an honest man, Ivo. Time to prove that. Besides, if you stick to the story Bhelen fed you, you will look complicit in the crime if you are found carrying that ring. That was it's true purpose: not to frame Trian, but to frame me. I would hold on to it with the intent to prove my brother's guilt, but it would instead support my guilt when I was found carrying Trian's signet ring.”

“Should we not leave the ring here, then, my lord?” Gorim suggested.

“What?” Kallan asked, distracted out of his thoughts. “No, no. That would be just as bad--I dropped it, where we were looking, in a pathetic attempt to hide my guilt. No, we know nothing of my brother's fate--indeed, we don't know for sure if my guesses are accurate or not. This is all conjecture. But assuming I am correct, as I likely am, Trian’s body... Gorim, time for a test. Of the places we passed on our way in here, which do you think would be best for an ambush?”

“Hmm,” Gorim thought it over briefly, retracing their path in his mind. “The crossroads, my lord.”

“I agree. That is where Trian's body will have been placed, to make it look as if I ambushed him. Thus, we will not head back that way. We will wait here for Bhelen and his men--and father, presumably. Bhelen will fill him with stories on the way here, no doubt. But his story will be weakened if we have not begun back that way. And with both of you to vouch for my innocence, and that we have not traveled back yet, Bhelen will look the fool for jumping to conclusions.”

“But—”

Kallan turned back to Ivo as the warrior began to protest. “I'm sure Bhelen promised your titles and riches, or threatened you. Or both, of course. That is his specialty--the man can make an invitation to dinner sound like a curse against your house. I will do neither. I have no greater threat to give than your own conscious will provide, and I will grant you no riches or titles that you do not first earn. The damn aristocracy has worked on favors and alliances for too long. It's time that the nobles had a bit of a shake-up, and Ivo, I think you may be an asset to me in that regard. You have talent; my match against you yesterday was the hardest I've had in a long time. The choice, as always, will come down to you in the final moment, with Bhelen breathing down your neck. Only remember that my brother can do nothing openly against me, and if I have shown my favor for you--which I already have done, by the way, Gorim can vouch that I made several remarks about your prowess in the proving to a variety of people last night--then Bhelen can do nothing to you that you do not condone, or he will have to answer to me.”

Gorim thought Kallan was laying it on a little thick, but Ivo seemed to be eating it up. Once again, Gorim thanked the stone he didn't have to deal directly in politics. “What shall we do in the meantime, my lord?” he asked.

“Explore these ruins, of course,” Kallan replied, a sudden cheerfulness overtaking his mood. “I am sure the shield is not the only treasure to be found here. We have only just begun to search this area; I have no doubt that we will not have finished by the time Bhelen and my father find us.”