Garinor let the page guide him out as his mind reeled with everything he had heard. He couldn’t believe it, but everything fit into place, including the adamant nature in which his friends had thrown their lives against the hunters in order to protect him, saying that he mattered at all costs.
They must have been in on the secret. And Garinor had no idea.
Part of him was confused and another part was angry as well. If he was descended of a previous king, then why hadn’t he been told, even for his own safety? And what of his parents? Who were they really? If everyone knew of these events, then why had he been given up so easily when the guard had arrived at the door with a note? Shouldn’t there have been more protection?
He didn’t notice the room he was taken to or that his clothes were clean and dry on a side dresser or that there was more gold in that room than he had ever even imagined existed. His thoughts tumbled in his mind and he tried setting things aright.
He decided the man and woman who raised him loved him dearly, as he loved them. He wished he could have spent more time with his foster father, but he traveled so much as a merchant that he wasn’t often home. He should have accepted the offers of joining one of his pilgrimages looking to trade his wares, but now there was no chance for it. His life would be in jeopardy until the scepter was found and the truth could be revealed.
And what of the scepter? The king had mentioned the heir, the prince, and the one to choose between them. Hadn’t Garinor also learned on his journey that the one to bear the scepter would be chosen by the heir? He supposed that was a secondary reason the king was sending guards with him, that Garinor could choose the wielder among them.
He wished he could detour to Paligar and find Tomli to be the one to do it, for his best friend should be part of making him king.
“King,” he said to himself. “I can’t believe it.”
The weight of it all was indeed burdensome, and as the night wore on he found he wasn’t able to sleep well in the overcushioned bed. His mind tumbled and doubts crept in from all angles. He was only fourteen. It was much too early for him to be given such a task as this.
And once the scepter had revealed the truth, what guarantee would there be that the prince would cease his attacks? It wasn’t likely he would simply go elsewhere peaceably for the rest of time. Garinor wondered about that the most. What would happen to the current prince? Would he take over another country and return with a great army and overthrow Garinor? Or would Garinor be forced to slay him for treason?
None of those options comforted him.
Thus Garinor slept fitfully and he wasn’t well-rested when a squire knocked on the door and entered the room. “His majesty awaits your decision.”