a month, having swallowed entire villages of the Nahmaut, Sumerian and Sabarian tribes over the decades.
He is ready to ascend to the throne. His hands, in smart plate, steel gloves, with mosaic, colored inserts on the outside, are trying to pull out the fasteners on the back of his head, holding this eerie stone mask. Shiny fingers, with pointed humps on each phalanx, cannot find the shutter mechanism. The same carriage stopped at the same place, in front of the steps of the main palace. Only, this time, she was met by the entire royal delegation. Having failed to press the latch, he tore out a thin, iron pin from his skull and threw off this helmet-shackles, which is an obligatory attribute of the governors leaving for foreign lands. With a low bow, the doors were opened for him, and he went out into the square surrounded by people. To the music of the singing choir, the leaders and elders left his path in trepidation. As he climbed the steps, his long, cloak of thin, interconnected, differently shaped gold plates slowly developed in the wind. A tall man, with curly black hair combed back, stopped in front of the entrance and turned around. His face was as pale as a toadstool, and his blue veins were shining through. Brown eyes and a neat flat nose. Today Aprod Rift is awaited as a savior. And he arrived at the last moment, with serious intentions.
– Fimirel’s army is approaching, – the disappointed king Ormon approached him. – Our defense will not withstand the attack of even a handful of sabars. Hurry, my friend. Now, the fate of fifty thousand people is in your hands.
– You have fifty thousand people, and there is no one to fight? – Aprod was surprised.
«They are not warriors. Neither I nor the council of elders will allow you to engage civilians in this battle. We have two thousand soldiers led by General Beleba. We must commit a heroic deed, hold out until the arrival of seventeen detachments of the southern army, about twice as many as us. They will just attack from the rear. «This means that we will have six thousand soldiers at our disposal. It’s not all that bad, «Rift smiled. «Fimirel’s army is not that large, but it is more capable. When will the southern army arrive?
«In about five hours, not earlier.
– This is great. So they are already on the way. Don’t worry, five hours, we’ll definitely hold out. Maktum’s ambassadors are already in the city. They will let you know when he arrives. But, in which case, get ready for hot negotiations. If you play along well with me and improvise a lot, bloodshed may be avoided. It’s a pity that you ruined everything with your trip to Rohvem. «He turned towards the square, admiring the artificial waterfall of a fluttering bird from afar.
– What have I ruined? – the old man stood in front of him, blocking the beautiful views. «What a grief, now they hate us even more?» – With irony he waved his right hand. «According to you, before that, they were going to cruelly kill us.
– Now, they will want to take you into slavery. And, it’s not even the queen. It’s a matter of principle. Ah, the madness of Hamhharaf will soon come to an end. Maktum forgives her too much. She apparently pays well for his silence. But, the valley is full of other powerful priests. Soon, their patience will run out, and they will nail the body of this witch to her throne with spears, and plant her head on the top of the Fimirel tower.
– It would be nice. What about council members? They demand full participation in the negotiations.
«They are not in a position to demand. They can ask, politely, but not demand. Let them be content with at least four being attracted. Two people from each council. – Putting his hands behind his back, Aprod entered the central building of the palace, not wanting to hear Ormon anymore. Less than half an hour later, the doors to the throne room were thrown open with a strong blow. Entering the room, the enraged ambassadors from Rohvem, surrounded by their armed guards, looked around with wild eyes. Their attitude showed with all its kind that they did not need any negotiations, even on their terms. All they need is blood.
«What are you doing here, Rift? – with an incredulous look, asked one of them. – He sat quietly on the royal throne, drinking red wine from a crystal glass.
– I, like, like here for the king, – he grabbed a slice of peeled pineapple, from the tray of a passing servant and, crossing his legs, dementedly leaned on the back of the chair. – How do you like my new royal outfit?
– Yes, he mocks us. Bring the real king here. I will gut his soul, and then I will dance on the bones of his people. «Raising his blade in front of him, he grinned viciously.
– How cruel. It may shock you, but the king resigned.
– Officially? Show me the papers! – he went up to the throne itself, from time to time swinging boorishly, sword on the sides, cutting through the air.
– Of course, officially. «Come here, Your Grace. Let the Ambassadors of Fimirel make sure that I am not holding you hostage. – The old man slowly creeps out of the next room, watching before from the side. – And here he is. Safe and sound. On a voluntary basis, he delegated all his powers to me. You know, it just happened just now, and the papers are now on the signature of the council of the wisest. The old man has become very weak, and he is afraid that in the council, a terrible massacre will unfold for his place. The people do not need these unnecessary intrigues at the top. They hit the economy.
– Yes, – the king supported him. – We need someone who will judge everyone in fairness. One who is not mixed up in anything. – The ambassador with a dull look, silently, blinks his eyes.
«It seems like I’m explaining this to you in vain,» the governor of Shelber covered his face with his hand. – So, what, Maktum, is not ready to talk to me? – the ambassador was silent again, but smiling, nodded his head. Aprod climbed the mighty wall of the city, just before the gates. On the other side of the fortress, there was a powerful army, ready to rush into the attack at any second. – Where are you, High Priest of Rohvem!? He shouts, peering into the crowd of their leader. – Who is in charge of this rabble?
«If you once again call my army a rabble, this wall will fall with you, the governor of Shelber,» came the angry cry of Maktum standing in the front row.
– Oh, where are you! Sorry, I didn’t notice. You’re standing too far away.
– Well, hello, my brother by blood, and the enemy in everything else. They say you tried on the Osiris crown? – in a long, wondrous sheepskin coat, he left the ranks of his soldiers and advisers. His dress gleamed blue to his toes. It was sunny outside, but it was still noticeable. Like square screens, separated by yellow metal stripes, and girded with a wide red silk towel. It looks like a bunch of purple egg-shaped bulbs sticking out of his head. This strange hat is called Occuma (religious headdress), something like a crown.
«You were not deceived.» Leaning down, Aprod leaned his elbows against the wall with both hands. – From that day on, I became the new king of this wonderful, prosperous, huge state. If you want to dispute the property, or share the resources that are located behind these magnificent walls, contact the governor Daligen. I am doing his will, just as you are doing the will of Hamhharaf.
– Will of Daligen, nothing to me. The same as for everyone in this ranks. I submit only to the Nahmaut kings. And, your king, if you please recall, by right, it is still considered Shadakh, according to rumors, perished during the seizure of another tribal state in central Africa. Until confirmation of his death is found, according to Shelber’s laws, it is forbidden to elect a new king. In fact, the supreme governors who remained after his departure simply do not want to arrange a power struggle. Admit it, they deliberately made the royal throne an untouchable holy relic. Well, you don’t need a king, your business. You are our brothers, you deserve to determine your own destiny, which I cannot say about these Pithecanthropus. These primates, who call themselves Osiris, allow themselves too much. Piracy, smuggling, fraud, falsehood. Blatant copying of everything that we have. This whole city is sheer falsehood and plagiarism. Independently, these aborigines are not able to put a stone