Hand of the Clock

The king’s face wasn’t a pleasant sight. The face, marked with many wrinkles, seemed old beyond his human years.  But the worst wasn’t age or even the sharp jagged scar coming from his left ear to his lips. The worst was the light in his eyes, dark, almost soulless. A gaze of someone who long ago passed the border and now, every sin falls on the shoulders of others.

Raithea’s being one of them.

Now the king, playing with one of his iron rings, looked into emptiness. They were alone in the chamber, as the king didn’t trust anyone aside of his elvin adviser. Of course, spells working and right strings pulled, but to the court, it seemed that Savras was manipulated [ which all knew was impossible due to his untrusty personality ]. Nothing explained why Raithea has such a strong voice in the court and why on gods Savras genuinely trusts him.

He was an elf. Enemy which was put on his knees. Most of the court members were aware that Raithea uses the king’s grace widely and in a way that was at least frightening.

Adding to it his looks – allegedly a curse put on him by some vague – and now dead – opponent – no, people close to the throne had all reasons to suspect that Lord Rhuitaure isn’t even an elf, but some demonic being that plays with their ruler and with them.

The power shifted, the nobles fought for attention. And this cursed boy stood still, like a statue, which can’t be moved.

“He did it, even if you ordered him not to, your grace” said nonchalantly Raithea. “My kind may be broken, but such a mock can move even a mountain, if the shovel is big enough.”

The king still looked before himself, like digesting what Raithea said. His gaze slowly laid on the adviser, like it wanted to look through him, leaving debris.

“I am not intending to tolerate disobedience. But you are far from right, Rhuitaure. Your kind isn’t broken. If the shovel in the form of Lord Kesser can move them to revolution. This moron can’t even make his wife listen to him.”

Raithea rolled his eyes… in his mind. Typical human understanding of things. In elvin culture, women and men were equal. Humanity had a strange way of honoring the givers of life and an aspect of divine balance.

Seemingly, also persons which in most cases kept them under a delicate yet persistent boot, as far as he remembered from his spies’ relations. Nothing was information too small to fill his soul, mind and heart with.

“Your grace,” Raithea summoned his most charming smile. “If Lord Kesser was able to order anything to his wife, it would be time for godly descent.”

Savras looked for a moment at him, intensely, and then, laughed loudly, gutturally.

“He is  a fool, ha!” he swatted his knee with his palm. “Giving excuses for elves to raise their heads is foolish enough. His other mistake is his lack of taste.”

“Lord Kesser looks indeed amusing in elvin wedding robe, your grace” a little crooked smile.

“I wouldn’t call it amusing, Rhuitaure” , still with a wild expression on his bear-like face, Savras rolled his ring over his finger, once, twice, like he was breaking the neck. “Good. You can even announce it to him yourself. I would like that to happen! A prison sentence brought to him by my small elvin adviser!” he choked a bit from repressed laughter.

“I am sure that his face would be worthy of a portrait, to your private collection, your grace” Raithea grinned delicately. “If you lean to my other humble advice, though, his family also took part in the celebration. If they were due to offer a nice amount of gold to the treasury…”

“Good way of thinking!” laughed the king again. Raithea didn’t see him that amused in a long time. “A nice offering to the gods of gold. Coin never stinks.”

Raithea bowed slightly, with an undeciphered expression on his face. The human lord in question was openly mocking elvin slaves and to add to their suffering, was allowing human guests to wear sacred elvin robes, eat elvin food and feast on elvin celebrations. Raithea didn’t know if he is cruel or just stupid.

Probably both.

Not that Raithea’s tight grip wasn’t already gauging the metaphorical eyes of lord Kesser. He had so many occasions to blackmail him, push into submission or just kill – but he waited. Waited until a day comes, when he will be able do it with cold blood and when it will be justice, not a revenge.

Lord Kesser running through his easily visible garden after giggling human ail, belly fat and not completely concealed by his rich robes, was already dead, not even knowing about it.

“Of course execution would be pulling it too far. Let’s show elvin people that we are good lords, but without exaggeration. This fool is still more worthy that whole cave filled with slaves.”

Raithea swallowed the words with immaculate calmth.

But a small hand of his inner clock moved slightly, restlessly, into its destined direction…