The herald’s staff of office cracked on the stone floor twice. “Your, majesty,” the royal herald called out loudly, “I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Elle and Bran Smith of Stonekeep!”

  The herald was a portly man with a barrel chest who was chosen for his tremendous voice, not necessarily his tremendous height. He stood at the door to the audience chamber of the King of Mithram in a surcoat with the royal coat of arms on it. Most of the nobility in attendance had the decency to pause in their conversation, but there were a few whispers ongoing. Perhaps they spoke of the young man and woman being announced. Bran stood next to the herald, which made plain to the onlookers his height and strength. Bran had adopted a calm, confident pose with his hands clasped behind his back and wore a new set of very conservative clothes. In stark contrast, next to him stood Elle in a brilliant green dress fit for court. She looked beautiful in everything she wore, but this dress made the noblewomen observing her feel very self-conscious. Jealous, even. Anyone could see it in their expressions.

  The audience chamber was a great hall with a large, raised dais in the center of the far wall where the King and Queen sat with their close family and advisors standing to the sides. All along the walls stood nobles of various ranks whose status granted them entry to this chamber where the business of the realm was done. Everyone in attendance wore expensive and colorful clothing with many jewels. There were many fully plate armored guards bearing halberds stationed around the perimeter of the hall as well as four at the foot of the steps of the dais.

  King Korban V was a slim man in his late fifties or early sixties by the look of him. He wore a crown of gold on his white-haired head, but except for a jeweled brooch and his signet ring, he wore no other jewelry. Queen Limoria sat on a slightly smaller throne beside him, and she was still a beauty even though silver streaked through her brown hair. She wore all the jewels that the king deigned not to wear. It was a symbol of status in this court to have jewelry, but there was an unwritten rule that no one could wear as much jewelry as the queen did. Such things were not done, not that any of the nobles in attendance could afford such magnificent jewelry. Fortunately for the peacocks in attendance, the queen had no problem showing off her fantastic wealth.

  Elle held Bran’s arm as he escorted her into the hall. As the herald had instructed them, they advanced to a certain set of tiles on the floor, then Bran knelt as Elle performed a deep curtsy. Then they waited until the king bid them rise. This was a moment of truth. If the king was pleased to receive them, he would quickly bid them rise. If he was not happy to see them, he would keep them bowing until they merged with the floor. Thankfully, the king didn’t wait long.

  “You may rise,” King Korban said in a rich, full voice. “We remember the great service the Smith family rendered in Stonekeep those years past. You have our gratitude.”

  “Most kind of you to remember that, your majesty,” Bran said with another bow.

  “What business do you bring before Mithram?” the king asked.

  “If it pleases your majesties, we come to discuss the Temple of the Overgod,” Bran said while maintaining steady eye contact with the king. “Is there perhaps a representative of the Temple in attendance today?” Bran didn’t look around the great hall, already knowing there was no such person present.

  “There is not,” the king said, “as I suspect you know full well, Master Smith. As I believe you also know, the temple grounds have not been entered by man or beast since the day they all turned into monsters and died horribly. Another curious recent event. What specifically do you inquire about?”

  “The Temple of the Overgod was a fixture in your fair city for a long, long time, but I have it on good authority that the priests of that religion are gone, and that they will not be coming back,” Bran said with finality. “I humbly ask that my wife and I be allowed to purchase the properties.”

  “Good authority, eh?” the king said with a snort. “And what would you wish to do with said properties?” the king asked.

  “We wish to remove the old temple and build a new one, a temple dedicated to the worship of God.”

  “That’s what they said, all those years ago,” the king said. “I think we know how that turned out. They ended up being shapeshifting monsters and tried to take my place on this throne. You wouldn’t have similar aspirations, would you?”

  “No, your majesty. Certainly not,” Bran said with his head bowed.

  Elle swallowed and tried to be bold, which was something very difficult for her, especially in these circumstances. “We are motivated to restore the worship of God to the continent of Aldon,” Elle said. “Such a thing does not come at a cost, nor does it bring strife. In fact, the worship of God brings about more peaceful, morally conscious people to rule over.”

  The king was silent for a long moment. He beckoned one of the men standing close by, his son, Prince Kimorel, lord of Stonekeep. The prince bowed to his father and they had a brief, whispered conversation while all the nobles stood perfectly silently, straining to hear what was said. In the sudden hush in the hall, something small and metallic hit the polished stone floor followed by a muttered curse. Fifty pairs of eyes swiveled to that noise, making a rather mousy looking man blush beet red. He left the pin on the floor and tried his best to slowly slide behind a rotund noblewoman close by. The heads all swiveled back to the king, who cleared his throat. Prince Kimorel stood close to the throne with a benevolent expression on his face.

  “The persons responsible for freeing my mind from that cursed goblet have never come forward to claim my reward,” the king said. “We have been wanting to thank those persons, whoever they may be. You wouldn’t happen to know who they are, would you?”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Silence hung heavy in the audience chamber as everyone awaited Bran’s next words.

  “Some of those who defended your realm wish to remain anonymous in case there are any more Xerith or assassins they are likely to send,” Bran said. “I can say that Elle and I were involved in the fighting in the temple itself, and that it is only by the grace of God and the strength He lent us that we were victorious in the conflict. I admit this because I know you’re not a fool, nor do I want to keep hidden the great thing that God has done for all of you. Our Creator is merciful and just, and He wants the best for us. Part of that blessing involves a return to the grace and peace that knowledge of His ways provides. The establishment of a temple here will be a good thing for every decent citizen in your realm.”

  “Yet you freely admit this, knowing that you could be targeted for assassination for your part in the battle?” the king asked.

  Bran was calm. “Let them try. God is sovereign over His creation, and because He directs our steps, we will fear no evil. I will die only when allows it, and not a moment before.”

  “We can see the truth in what you say, Master Smith. But what of the Mordonian Sorcerer who joined you in the temple?” the king asked, leaning forward in his throne.

  “They’re a good and decent person who has helped us overcome many threats, some of which you know about,” Bran said. “I can assure you that they don’t want to take over the world or some such nonsense as that.”

  “You’re sure of this?” the king asked.

  “Of course, your majesty. You know I bear the holy sword Vengeance, and that no one but a true paladin can wield such a weapon.” As Bran said this, the small sword under the skin of his forehead began to glow with a golden light. “A true paladin would not tell any kind of falsehood. I know there is no evil in that person because I can sense the good and evil in beings. They do not want to rule over people, but only to help. This was the way of things at the time of the Breaking, you know. The High Magi found ways of helping people magically, while the priesthood found ways to care for people’s spiritual and bodily needs. The Mordonians were maligned by the Xerith as a means of stamping out resistance to their corrupt influence. I say again, the sorcerer only wants to help people.”

  “You say this, but what cause do we have to trust the sorcerers?” the king asked.

  At this, Elle spoke up. “I have learned, your majesty, that when you want to know what‘s really in a person’s heart, you have to look for the fruit.”

  “The fruit?” the king asked. He was genuinely perplexed.

  “Yes, your majesty. You can’t always listen to what people say. If you want to know the truth of a person, you have to look for the effects of the things they do. The results of those things show what’s in a person’s heart,” Elle said.

  “So, in the sorcerer’s case, for example,” Bran said, “you can see that they freed you from an evil, cursed goblet that would have made you destroy your family. They smashed the Xerith responsible right in front of you. They also saved Stonekeep from certain destruction at the hands of an ogrish army those years ago. They arranged for the restoration of Stonekeep’s fields by druidic magic before the people of the city starved. They also almost single handedly destroyed the hive of Xerith that was pretending to be a church in Aerie. They have rooted the Xerith out of every major and most of the minor cities in the world, and they’ve done all this without asking for a single word of thanks, much less for political power.”

  “We would like to believe you, Mr. Smith,” King Korban said. “And we’re powerfully persuaded by the mark you bear, but we’d like to see the sword with our own eyes. The wielder of Vengeance was someone of importance to us in years past.”

  Elle released Bran’s arm and drew back slightly. Bran mentally activated the mithril bracelet Jeron made for him, and in an obscuring glow of golden light, Bran was suddenly garbed for war. The nobles all gasped at the sight. He was wearing his adamantine plate armor with a shield on his arm, and drew Vengeance slowly and purposefully, holding the sword vertically before him in salute. Vengeance glowed brightly with a golden light.

  The king nodded. “Seeing is believing. You are indeed a paladin, and as such, you are above reproach, or you wouldn’t be a paladin. We’ve been waiting to hear a concise explanation of these things for some time now, which is something our spies were not able to give us. We’ve all had our guesses, but I’d say it’s good to hear this directly from the source.” The king had another thought. “You are a loyal subject of Stonekeep are you not?”

  “I am,” Bran said.

  “And you owe us your fealty, do you not?” the king asked.

  “As a citizen of your kingdom, indeed I do,” Bran said. “But please be mindful, your majesty, and I mean no disrespect here, but my calling as a paladin is a higher calling. I’ll do the will of God for the protection of His people and church first, and my civic duty second. It is the same for my wife, a true priestess, and the sorcerer has a similar view.”

  “Disappointing, but necessary, I suppose,” the king said. He thought about things for a minute or two as Bran and Elle stood calmly before him. Bran sheathed Vengeance while he awaited the king’s words. “A few centuries ago, my ancestor accepted payment of ten thousand gold coins from the Church of the Overgod for the land and rights to build a temple here in Mithram. We are pleased to revoke this right from that organization because of their base treachery and grant you this same right for the sum of one copper coin.”

  Bran smiled, and Elle positively beamed at this verdict. Bran invoked the mithril bracelet, changing instantly back into his court clothes. He reached to his belt pouch and withdrew a copper coin, which he held out to the closest guard. The guard brought it to the king, then retook his place at the bottom of the dais.

  “You won’t regret this, your majesty,” Elle said. “Thank you.”

  “You are most welcome here,” the king said kindly, smiling back. “There is one more thing I would like to address before adjourning. Herald, make it known throughout the realm that the death sentence on Mordonian Sorcerers is hereby abolished, providing they make themselves known to us. Any who are found to be a sorcerer are afforded the same rights, privileges, and duties as any other loyal subject and shall be treated as their actions warrant. Let it be written.”

  The herald rapped his staff on the polished floor twice. “So let it be written!”

  The king stood, then held out a hand to his wife, and the queen delicately took it and allowed him to help her rise. Bran and Elle bowed low along with the assembled nobility as the king and queen stood from their thrones and exited the hall. Bran could feel the eyes on them, but he wasn’t bothered. When the royal couple exited the hall with their advisors going deeper into the palace, Bran offered his arm to Elle and left the hall the way they came in.

  “That went a lot better than I thought it would,” Bran said. His forehead slowly stopped glowing as Elle looked up to him.

  “I told you it would work out well,” Elle said.

  “You did. I shouldn’t have worried,” Bran said.

  “You’ll learn someday,” Elle said, smiling. She held his arm closely as they walked.