Chapter 12

The chamber of the Royal Council of Twelve is in an uproar of fiery proportions. Its members shout and gesture at each other, shaking fists and pointing, faces red with anger and rising blood pressures.

To one side, with a fist hiding his mouth, Lord Dalu smiles slyly, well aware of the cause for their discord. After all, it was one of his own Black Gloves flying under cover of night who has sown the seeds of war.

He steps up and shouts, rage bleeding from his eyes.

“My lords! My ladies! Please. Take your seats.”

Lady Nols is disturbed and doubtful. Where are her mother and father? “Why are not our king and queen present?” she says. “Should they not be here?”

Royal daughter and first handmaiden to Queen Dal, Lady Nols brooks no deceptions where the bloods are concerned. Her queen most highly approves.

“Our king is indisposed at the moment,” Lord Dalu says. “A weakness. The queen is in attendance.”

“I was not aware of any failing in my king,” Lady Nols says.

Ignoring her, Lord Dalu speaks, “As the royal regent, I will counsel the members as I….”

“…tell me this, your royal regentness…” White knuckles gripping table’s edge Lord Qox interrupts. Highly agitated, his face blackens.

“…How are we to carry out repairs to our atmosphere if our royal heroes are being shot down by forces unknown?”

Patience at end, Lord Dalu snaps at his king’s royal younger sibling. “These traitors will be uncovered, Lord Qox! And consigned to the Cocoon of Infinity.”

In no mood to be placated, Lord Qox demands, “Answer my question, my lord! Two good heroes have been willfully killed. How many more? Before we are forced to take a blood-oath revenge!”

Stepping down off the dais, Lord Dalu walks slowly around the giant table and stands behind his uncle. Hovering, breathing, hot and intimidating.

Lord Dalu’s voice is ice-cold. “And you, my loving uncle, where does your fealty lie? To whom would you pledge this oath of blood?”

He leans in, whispering in Lord Qox’s ear, twisting the words. “Our queen mother, perhaps?”

Shaking, Lord Qox stands in a rage and his chair clatters over backwards. His eyes slash at his nephew. “I will thoroughly enjoy your death, regency! And Lord Xib will take his rightful place in the royal order.”

Lord Dalu grinds his teeth, then shrieks. “Lord Xib will taste the blue fires of a steel mist before he ever rules our bloods. My lord!”

Grimly satisfied and glaring, Lord Dalu spins and leaves the chaos of the chamber. Old wounds are reopened, new-old enemies are identified and branded, and battle lines are being drawn.

***

Talking among themselves, the other council members retake their seats when Lady Nols steps up on the dais and motions for quiet.

“My brother it seems, is overcharged with the breadth of his own head.”

Sitting on one side of the platform, with his arms draped across his knees, Lord Xib turns and looks up at her.

“His state of mind, his entire life. W ould he had a wheelbarrow with which to ease the weight off our shoulders.”

Leaning to one side in his chair, Lord Qox dabs at the creases in his brow with a yellow silk scarf. His face is shading to its normal brown. “The question remains, my lords and ladies. Our possible answers are two, only one of which is realistic.”

Lady Nols studies his face, searching out his thoughts. “How reasons my Lord?”

Standing to address the council, Lord Qox pulls at his beard. “We can capitulate to the oppression of the Black Gloves and relinquish our strongholds. Or we can arm for combat. Are we not all of an intelligence sufficient to know from which direction the wind blows?”

Lord Xib’s son, EnTsebin exclaims loudly, “Here, here! Courage comes calling, my grand-uncle!”

Lady Nols frowns and holds up a hand in delay. “My lords! Only blood-thirsty fools rush to the blue steel mists.”

Put off by her conciliation, Lord Qox glances side-long at her. “So too, only cowards shrink from honors taken with those same blades.”

He moves up onto the dais and turns to face the council. “Just as it is the blood oath of the Heroes to shield royals from dangers, so too is it the bond of blood royals to protect their Heroes, by any means possible.”

Lady Nols twists her hair nervously. She, more than any of the royals, knows her uncle’s words cleave straight to the heart of the issue.

As Chief Officer of the Royal Manifest, no military requisition is approved without her signet. Not one troop stands to; not one meal ration is allotted; not one weapon flourished.

Slowly shaking her head, Lady Nols yields. She knows she can’t assent to any one of these, and refuse her royal endorsement for the others.

Her decision made, Lady Nols turns to Lord Qox. “My Lord, uncle. Are you then of a mind to retake your position as Royal Annunaki Guard Major General?”

“That I am, my lady. Of course, I will require the king’s seal to manifest.”

“I will see to it, lord.

Lady Nols faces the council and shouts, chopping repeatedly from the elbow for order, “Members of the council! Please be silent!”

She waits for a few moments for the members to settle. “By thumbs-up or e-rod down, yes or no. Hereby give notice!”

She scans the chamber. Eight yeas, one nay.

“By my king’s-blood authority then, we are at war!”

The chamber breaks down in chaos. Some celebrate, others are resigned. One alone stands watching the arms of compassion dwindle away before his very eyes.