Secret of the Sunstones, Part 1: The Wanton Kingdom

Chapter XLVI : Transiens Veritas

Earlmorn of Primoris, Ninth Day of Autumnmoon

Józef rubbed along his neck and jawline. It was still sore from where Master Deleuze had applied his magical choke hold. His sorcerers had already healed the bruises, but a dull ache remained, somewhere deep inside the muscle tissue. They said it just needed time to heal, but it served as a constant reminder of his role in Angela’s death.

He didn’t really want to accept the blame. What happened to Angela was heartrending and tragic, but certainly nothing he could have foreseen. Still, he felt responsible. He had gone to her village, convinced her to leave, and brought her to Rungholt. And now she was dead. Many others, too, including his father and close colleagues.

He wanted to hide and mourn. If not for Konrad’s insistence, he would have already locked himself inside his chambers. But his Primary Minister was right: he was no longer just a prince. He was the Heir Apparent to his father’s throne, and he was expected to lead his people out of their current crisis. He couldn’t rely on others to do that work for him. He was needed, and many more lives were at stake.

Yet he found it difficult to maintain confidence. His insides felt listless. He never fully appreciated how much his father’s presence had given him assurance. When Henrich put his hand on his shoulder and gave him words of advice, he felt better. And, though his relationship with Angela had been brief, he missed her hugs first thing in the morn. Henrich and Angela had given him strength and security. But, now, he needed to accept they were gone.

His hand went to his ears, where he still heard that incessant ringing. After the bombing, he felt intense, head-splitting pain that went on for hours. It had since subsided, but now sounds were muffled, and he strained to hear when others spoke. He feared he might be going deaf, which would put an end to his last remaining joy, music. If he couldn’t hear the rhythms and melodies of his favorite songs, it’d be a punishment worse than death.

He thought about ending his life a few times. He knew it was a fickle and self-indulgent thought, but it lingered longer than it should have. Besides, if he was gone, life would go on without him. Hopefully, his country would find a dependable leader. Someone with the skills and experience he lacked.

Gods, his blasted neck. It hurt. He rubbed it again. Master Deleuze had been rough, but he couldn’t blame the old scholar. He deserved far worse. He had known Angela for just a short time, but Master Deleuze had raised her since birth. Józef wanted to grieve by her side in Kitezhian tradition, but her body had gone missing, earlier that morn. Master Deleuze had taken it, and he left the underground Network using his magic. Konrad suggested sending some scholars after him, but Józef declined. He wanted to put Angela’s death behind him. Besides, the man deserved to bury his own daughter.

At some point, his duties demanded that he speak with his surviving Ministry. These men and women were the last remaining pillars of Kitezhian government that kept his hidden faction from descending into chaos. He had already spent hours listening to their requests. Drained and dispirited, he subjected himself to wave after wave of mundane reports. No matter how important it was, he didn’t know how to deal with the trash problem, or how to solve the issues with rodents getting into food storage. He was equally unprepared to remedy the black molds, which caused sicknesses in some of the tunnels, or to stop Angkor from attempting to find entrances in the north quarter, or to address plummeting hygiene levels. The list went on.

His city was in crisis—that much he understood. But there wasn’t much he could do while under Angkorian occupation. Surely, his Ministries could solve some of the problems on their own, without his royal approval. He closed his eyes, overwhelmed with a responsibility that he never asked for. Even at his best, he never considered himself all that dependable.

Instead, he excused himself and requested time alone with the Gnostic Knight. Sir Morrison intrigued him, and it provided some reprieve from his duties to learn about the Knight’s exciting past. Bram was an enigma, a puzzle begging to be solved. Once, one of Angkor’s most dangerous hounds, he had defected to his homeland’s bitterest enemy. In their darkest hour, no less.

Józef yearned to understand Bram’s motivation, and he considered how he might benefit from such an ally. He arranged a private meeting in one of the nearby conference rooms. He sent his entourage away, except for Konrad, so he could speak with his guest more candidly. Now that he was king, his protectors obeyed. He would have given anything to have such power earlier in life.

He sat at a small table, with Sir Morrison seated on the opposite side and Konrad directly to his right. The Primary Minister whispered advice from time to time, and Józef found himself benefitting from it. As much as he craved independence, he wasn’t ready to do much on his own. He needed his trusty advisor close by.

At first, the black armored Knight cast an intimidating pall upon the room, even without his fearsome helm. Yet, despite what Józef heard about these Angkorian death-dealers, the man in the chair was astonishingly humble and forthcoming. He was far from the arrogant, violent killer his Ministers warned him about.

Bram had just finished a story of how he had been ordered to obtain the sunstone from Minoa, only to have his accomplice use compulsion magic to take it in the dredges of a violent bloodbath. Later, King Richard deceived him a second time, resulting in the genocide of a tribal village—and a child as a sole survivor. Józef wasn’t sure if he should take the Knight’s words at face value, or if he should apply some skepticism. His father would have known better. Either way, Sir Morrison’s epic ballad of tragedy was quite enjoyable. Had Bram matched the tales of Gnostic Knights weaved by his fellow Kitezhians, Józef would have been disappointed.

When the Knight finished, there was one part of his story that Józef found most intriguing. “Sir Morrison, I would like to ask you about the sunstones.”

He received some whispered guidance from Konrad, which he strained to hear. “My Liege, you are king. Do not refer to this man so formally. His name is Bram. You must demand respect from the men who speak to you, not the other way around.”

Józef cleared his throat. “Yes … Bram. You say you witnessed one such sunstone grant King Richard, a layman, powers to rival even highly experienced scholars?”

Bram nodded. “That’s right, Your Majesty. Richard found a way to turn the sunstones into powerful weapons. I’ll give you an example: I’m familiar with Angkor’s munitions, and while our firebombs can crack the hulls of other airships, they’re certainly not capable of reducing a castle to rubble. My guess is that Richard enhanced his airships’ weaponry, which enabled them to take down Rungholt’s defenses far more efficiently.”

Józef thought about it for a moment. “With such power, why leave the rest of the city standing? Could Richard not destroy the whole thing?”

The question appeared to catch Bram off guard. He shook his head. “I don’t know. I thought I knew the man, but I can no longer predict what he’s capable of doing. I suppose leaving some survivors might help to fit the narratives he’s written, but other than that … forgive me, My Lord … but the sunstone grants him the power to grind his enemies to dust. He can do so if he chooses.”

Józef leaned back, feeling hopeless. Even if his forces managed to take back the city, the next round of airships would eradicate the remains.

Yet, Bram looked hopeful. “To be honest, Sire, I’m glad you believe me. I … expected some skepticism about the sunstone’s powers.”

Józef felt encouraged that the Knight was willing to let down his guard, at least conversationally. He recalled a fond memory that he wanted to share. “Long ago, my father told me bedtime stories about the sunstones. He knew all about their powers, ever since he inherited the kingdom from his father.”

Bram’s eyes widened. “Really? I thought Angkor was first to learn of their secrets.” He paused, clearly deep in thought as he calculated the new information. “Henrich knew about the sunstones’ powers and still chose not to weaponize them? Not even to defend Rungholt from ruin?”

Józef held up his hands. Clearly, Bram made some interesting points. “I must clarify. My father believed himself to be a ‘Sunstone Protector’. There are four sunstones, one in each of four countries. Hence, four protectors. Here’s what I know ….”

Józef was just warming up. He loved a good story. “Many centuries ago, a band of very capable scholars created these artifacts to contain an ancient power. Once that power was sealed, it was never to be used again. These scholars … they wanted to ensure that future generations protected it in same way, so they created an enchantment known as Transiens Veritas. The magic was cast on each of the original protectors and was designed to be passed down to future generations. Fortunately or not, I did not receive this supposed enlightenment when my father died. So … I don’t know if it’s the truth, or just a bedtime story.”

Józef expected Bram might lose interest in the topic, but if anything, the Knight was even more intrigued. “What else can you tell me about Transiens Veritas? You say the rulers of other kingdoms have it, too? What other knowledge does it pass on?”

Józef was happy to elaborate. Even if just fiction, it was a brief escape from his other duties. “Supposedly, each of the Sunstone Protectors receives complete knowledge, as well as a compulsion to protect the sunstones and never to use their powers. But, Transiens Veritas is only one safeguard.”

Bram seemed hooked on every syllable, so Józef continued. “The second safeguard involves the temples of Gaia, built to house each sunstone. We had one as well, inside our castle, though it now lies in ruin. At the heart of each temple, a room of glass prevents scholars from using magic to unleash the sunstone’s power, or to steal it.”

Mentioning this seemed to trigger something in Bram. “I’m aware of these, Your Majesty. The temple in Minoa had something just like it. It creates an AMF, a field that prevents magic from being used, just like you said. But, please, finish your story. What are the other safeguards?”

Józef didn’t know much about magic or fields, but he wondered if there was something to his father’s stories, after all. “The third safeguard is a lock, which was placed on each of the sunstones to seals its power and prevent anyone from using them.”

“What can you tell me about this lock?” Bram asked. “Did your father mention how to remove it?”

Józef shook his head. “He couldn’t, even if he wished. Sunstone Protectors are compelled to keep knowledge about the sunstones secret.”

Bram shared his experience in the Minoan temple, including certain instructions given to him by the rogue wizard, Virgil Garvey.

Józef couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re serious? You thought of a lock and key, the sunstone glowed, and … that’s it?” It seemed too simple. Too puerile.

Bram chuckled, too. “I hoped it might ring a bell. It does seem odd, doesn’t it?”

It did, but there were no more words to describe it. “Why you? Why did Virgil not unlock the sunstone himself, if it was that easy?”

Bram shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t asked myself the same question. I don’t know the nuances of magic, but there’s nothing special about me, other than my skills as a Gnostic.”

He paused, looking pensive, but then changed subjects. “Were there any other safeguards?”

Józef returned to his story. “Yes, one final safeguard, though it was not intended by the original scholars. Even so, it has become the most effective. Think about the fact that most people are ignorant of sunstones’ powers. They believe they are merely religious relics, junk with no value and no reason to steal. Only the Sunstone Protectors know better, and Transiens Veritas compels them not to reveal the truth.”

Józef recalled one more thing. “Ah, yes. Also, the sunstones must never be brought together. If one were to gather all four, the enchantment supposedly ends, and the ancient power is released.”

Bram looked somber. “What then?”

The young king lifted his shoulders. “Who’s to say? Supposedly, calamity. Chaos. Destruction. My father never said. But, eh … doesn’t matter, right? Just a bedtime story.”

Józef used to be excited to receive Transiens Veritas, but now it seemed unlikely. It was probably just a tall tale all along, something more suitable to one of his ballads. Although, the Gnostic Knight gave it credence. He believed the sunstone had the power to crush Kitezh’s armies. Then again, Angkor’s technology had always been better. Perhaps King Richard had enhanced his weaponry some other way.

Konrad leaned close and whispered more advice. This time, Józef couldn’t hear it on account of his hearing loss. He hadn’t yet told his advisor about his malady and didn’t want the knowledge to become public. So he played it off, as if the problem was with the speaker.

“Konrad, please. Don’t mumble.”

His minister tried again, closer this time. “I suggest a new topic, My Lord. The Knight can reveal information about Angkor’s military strength and weak points. We must think of Rungholt, and our people’s liberation.”

Perhaps he meant the advice as an opportunity for Józef to gain some hands-on experience, but the heir was neither adept nor interested. Besides, he had no idea where to start. He was just a young boy during the last war, and his father often shielded him from talk of battle tactics. It was a foreign concept, and he didn’t want to show his ignorance in front of Bram or Konrad.

He used his hand to hide his lips, so the Knight wouldn’t see him speak. And he kept his voice low. “You speak to him. I will observe.”

Józef hoped that by sitting on the side lines, he might learn a few of the basics. Konrad nodded hesitantly. He started with a few simple questions about how Angkor’s military was organized, how well they were armed, and how many soldiers they left in the city. It slowly grew more complex to include military strategy and game theory. Bram was surprisingly forthcoming and painted a vivid picture of what he had seen of the city before Konrad’s forces discovered him in the Altestadt. He included many details about the soldiers he encountered along the way.

After an hour of back and forth, Konrad signaled to Józef that he was finished.

Naturally, the young king wanted to know what the Gnostic wanted in return. But he barely had a chance to discuss reciprocity before Bram beat him to it.

“Your Majesty, I thank you for the hospitality, especially under these terrible circumstances. However, I have an urgent request, and my time is short.”

Józef was happy to hear him out. “You have proven your worth, Bram. How can I return the favor?”

The Knight looked relieved. “I traveled to Rungholt along with several companions. Among them, a veteran of Kitezh named Géorg Töller, who brought us on his sandskipper; the child I rescued from Richard’s attack on her village; and finally, a woman named Rosa, who’s very dear to me.”

He paused, as if overcome with emotion. “Rosa is ill, Your Majesty. She’s been cursed by the rogue wizard, Virgil Garvey. With Matthias’s help, we managed to slow its effects, but I worry she won’t survive long without special care. She needs healers and a special facility that can remove the illness completely. We were hoping to find something in the city, but now ….”

Józef considered the complications. “As you are no doubt aware, our medical centers were destroyed along with the castle. And, many of our sorcerers are dead or missing. Our tunnels extend into countryside, so I can help you escape Angkor’s defenses and make it out of the city. Unfortunately, we are days away from any large scale medical facility.”

Bram winced, but he looked like he expected bad news to hit. Józef hated to see his hopes dashed, especially when the life of someone dear was on the line. The young king wondered if there was anything else that could save the woman’s life.

He thought of something. The plan was raw, but workable. In fact, it was brilliant. Not just for the woman, but potentially for his entire kingdom!

“I have an idea!”

Bram perked up. So did Konrad, though the Primary Minister looked more skeptical than hopeful.

“In the marshes of Kitezh, we have a natural cure found nowhere else in the world.”

Konrad’s eyes widened. “Your Grace, I don’t think it’s wise—"

Józef held up his hand, demanding silence. “This is what Bram is looking for, Konrad. And we will also request a favor in return.”

The Knight looked eager. “Whatever it is, tell me? I’ll go above and beyond, if it means saving Rosa.”

Józef smiled, encouraged by his newfound skill of negotiation. “Favor first, then cure.”

Bram nodded, so he continued. “Our forces in Rungholt won’t last long against Angkor. We are wounded and underequipped. However, we know what Angkor wants and where they will strike next. I believe we can use this information to gain a new ally in the fight.”

Bram caught on quickly. “I understand. You intend to send an emissary to Koba, help them to defend against Angkor’s next attack, and bring back reinforcements. I think it’s a wise move, Your Majesty. What do you need from me?”

“I want to be that emissary, Bram. And I ask that you escort me there, provide guidance, and protect me on my journey.”

Konrad’s jaw almost hit the ground. “My Lord, you can’t be serious! We’ve already lost your father. We can’t afford to lose you, too!”

“Your Majesty.” Bram stepped in. “Your minister speaks the truth. It would be extremely dangerous to go yourself, and Rungholt cannot survive without some kind of leadership here. Nevertheless, if you tell me about this cure, I will be your emissary. I intended to go to Koba, anyway, since I’m committed to stopping Richard from gaining the other sunstones. You may send whomever you want along with me, but I give you my word that I’ll make it there quickly, before Angkor has a chance to strike again.”

Józef understood the practicality of Bram’s argument as well as Konrad’s objection, but he had another reason to insist on going. He wanted to be far from the confines of Rungholt’s tunnels, not to mention the mundane activities expected from his Ministry. Not that he wanted to dodge his responsibilities as king, but he was sure his presence in Rungholt wouldn’t make a difference. Any one of his advisors could do a better job.

He just needed to flex his new regal muscles. “My decision is final. I will help Bram find the cure for Rosa; and in return, Bram will accompany me to Koba. We’ll travel to their capital, Loulan, and I’ll speak with Emperor Zhao Peng. I am, after all, best suited for this role. No one else will get an audience so easily.”

Bram nodded. “Very well, Your Majesty. We’ll take a route through the mountains. Anything else along the southern plains would make us vulnerable to airships. If Angkor finds us, we can’t outrun them. I know of such a route over Mount Abakai.”

Konrad reached out, pleadingly. “Your Majesty, please! Spend a night to think it over. There’s too much at stake.”

Józef shook his head. “We have no time to spare, Konrad. Each day, there is greater chance of famine, disease, or attack from Angkor! My duty is to protect Kitezh, and I’ll do it by reuniting Kitezh with Koba, just as my father did during the Ten Years War.”

Konrad looked uncertain, but his hesitance gave Bram an opportunity to step in. “I accept. Tell me about the cure you promised.”

Konrad looked displeased, but Józef was ready to close the deal. “The cure comes from an ancient tree, older than any other on Gaia. It’s located in Kitezh’s eastern marshes, and we call it Prometheus. Supposedly, the tree started as a clump of hair from the Goddess, Herself. We’ll collect the tree’s sap and give it to Rosa. Supposedly, there is no illness—magical or otherwise—which cannot be remedied.”

Bram paused, falling deeply silent. “I’ve heard the eastern marshes are quite dangerous. Are you sure you know how to navigate through safely?”

Józef laughed. “Konrad can tell you: Papa took me to the marshes every year for hunting. We took soldiers for protection, yes, but I promise you: we’ll find the tree by nightfall.”

Bram nodded. “Very well. I accept your terms.”

“Excellent.” Józef almost wanted to clasp his hands together, but he didn’t want to appear too eager. Meanwhile, Konrad looked like he was going to be sick.

Nevertheless, the meeting was over, and Józef had a plan to save his kingdom. All he needed was to convince his Ministry. They were sure to debate it, but he was prepared once again to insist. As king, his word was law. Such power made it easy to get things done.

He strutted down the torchlit corridors feeling quite accomplished, when he ran into a man in a high-ranking uniform. It was Hans Unruh, his Minister of Security. The man had thick black hair, strands of gray, bushy eyebrows, and a thick mustache. He stood tall and had a commanding presence. He was known for being a hawkish strategist, and due to recent casualties in the military chain of command, he gained a very promising promotion. He was now the highest ranking military officer in the city.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted with a subtle bow. “A word, please.”

“What is it, Minister Unruh?” Józef wondered. “You need something?”

The minister stood tall. “Yes, My Lord. I wanted to report that our men managed to discover the location of the scholar known as Matthias, the Ambisanguinous. We believe we can capture him alive.”

Józef’s heart sank. He had just put Angela out of his mind, but now the trauma came flooding back. He should have been euphoric over his victory deal with Bram, but thinking of Matthias left him feeling empty and anxious.

He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. “Leave him be. I do not wish to prosecute.”

Hans looked shocked. “Is Your Majesty certain he wants a rogue scholar on the loose? What’s more, he knows about our Network. Letting him roam free is a threat to national security. I believe our scholars can bring him to justice. I just need you to give the command.”

Józef shook his head vehemently. His advisors needed to stop assuming they knew what was best for him. “I said no. Leave him to bury his daughter. It’s his right.”

The captain grunted. “Theft of the girl’s body is not his only crime. He’s also guilty of violence against our military and to the royal family. Or have you forgotten?” He pointed and made a slitting motion across Józef’s neck.

Konrad stepped forward, his brow furrowed. “Minister! You’d do well not to mock the king.”

Hans was quick to change his tone. “You misunderstand, Minister Rommel. I’m merely performing my duties. It’s my job to advise the Heir Apparent of any potential security risks.”

Józef picked up on the minister’s terminology. The only difference between Heir Apparent and fully King was the Oath, which he had not yet taken. But that was just a technicality.

Nevertheless, Józef wanted to stay neutral. “I understand his point, Konrad, and he is right to be concerned.”

He addressed Hans more confidently. “However, Minister, you should have cleared the mission with me, first. Matthias is not rogue. He’s a good father, who grieves for his child. I’ll hold myself accountable, if he reveals any secrets about our Network. However, I am confident that he will not.”

The security minister looked displeased, but he would simply need to get used to it.

Józef turned to face Bram. “By the way, we have been rude to our guest. Bram, allow me to introduce Captain Hans Unruh, Minister of Security.”

Hans looked Bram up and down, sneering at his Gnostic armor. He greeted him coldly. “Sir Knight.”

Bram did not appear to take offense. He nodded politely.

Jozef couldn’t wait to announce his new deal. “Bram and I will soon depart for Loulan. I’ve decided to send myself as emissary to warn Emperor Zhao Peng of Angkor’s aggression. I will enlist their aid and return with reinforcements to liberate our city.”

Captain Unruh kept a stone cold façade. “My Lord, perhaps you should have consulted with your Ministry, first? We are, after all, Kitezh’s top strategists. And we owe our advice to you.”

It was clear the captain framed his words more carefully this time. Józef didn’t mind the criticism. He still believed in his decision. He stood tall and confident. “These so-called expert strategists are also slowest to arrive at consensus. We need decisive action, and I’m convinced Koba’s aid is the best course.”

Hans cleared his throat. “No offense to present company, My Lord, but are you sure you can trust this … this Gnostic?”

It sounded exceptionally bitter, coming from the captain’s lips. Hans was a veteran of The War and had certainly witnessed some of the Knights’ atrocities firsthand.

Even so, Józef was ready to stand in Bram’s defense. “He’s no longer in Angkor’s service, Minister. He and I spoke extensively. He is trustworthy.”

Hans sighed. His face was composed but stone cold. “Your Lordship appears to have made up his mind. I will of course support your decision, but I ask you follow protocols regarding the chain of command. For you to leave the country in its time of crisis, we’ll need to appoint a new leader to defend our Network. We must be prepared, if the enemy attacks in your absence.”

Józef was already familiar with the chain of command. “Konrad is Primary Minister and second to the king. He shall rule while I’m away.”

Konrad didn’t seem to like the idea. “My Lord, please. I must accompany you personally, at least to base of Mount Abakai. I must have confidence that you made it that far.”

Hans rolled his eyes. “Your Majesty, if you wish for Minister Rommel to accompany you, at least choose another to rule while he’s away. Our government is fragile enough without uncertainty over who can make decisions!”

“I won’t be gone more than a few days, Captain,” Konrad promised. “Surely you can ensure the safety of the Network until then. I have faith in our security protocols, as well as our ministries.”

“Konrad is right,” Józef confirmed. “We have a sandskipper, and the round trip is three days. Moreover, the Network has supplies to last for weeks. Now, unless you require something else, I need to prepare.”

Hans’ face darkened, but he covered it up with a bow. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

Józef added a final request. “Minister, please see that I receive some of your best men for my journey.”

Hans tightened his lips, and his cheeks turned bright red. “Anything else, My Lord?”

Józef shook his head. Hans bowed a final time, turned on his heel, and stormed off.

Once he was out of earshot, Józef exhaled a stale breath. “Thanks for standing up for me, Konrad. I have much to learn when it comes to commanding my ministers.”

Konrad sighed. “No. Your Majesty merely deserves better ministers.”

Józef thought of something he hoped his father would have said. “I am fortunate to have such loyal men in my service. Now come. We must explain our plans to the rest of our Ministry. There is still much to prepare.”