"Heart of the Crown" Chapter 105 Happy Thanksgiving!

[seymoure]

Chapter 105

Takis

They stood on the steps of the palace. There were monks and soldiers all about them.

Slip gave Sandor the bundle that contained the young king.

The company walked into the palace past dozens of people in different aspects of dress, but who all appeared to be some kind of court members.

Sandor walked into what was obviously the throne room. In the center of the wall directly across from them was a large golden throne.

The last member of his family carried the child to the throne and gently laid the bundle in the seat.

Applause broke out from all the Takins in the room.

The monk who had given the burden to the travelers in the first place walked to them.

“We have watched your progress, and your characters are beyond heroic,” he said. “But you are the star in this sky.”

He spoke to Sandor, who did not know exactly how to take what he was saying.

“The Heart of the Crown has nothing to do with birth. No royal blood line started with some cosmic bestowal. It is won, and only retained by the brave and the compassionate. But most of all, the Heart of the Crown is the heart that cares more for others than for himself. You, my son, are that heart.”

Sandor looked at his friends for an explanation that none of their eyes could communicate.

The monk picked up the bundle, and unfastened the clasps. He then grasped the cover cloth and unrolled it with an energetic flip of the wrist. The cloth opened out to reveal . . . nothing. The child had vanished.

“The King!” Sandor shouted in horror.

“The King stands before me,” the monk said. “You are the most worthy; you have the heart and the soul that we would allow to rule us, for within you is the soul of nothing less than a hero. A hero may not want to lead, but knows that when he is needed, he must take on the role and do with it the best he can do. More than that, none can ask.

“You can choose your own advisors, but I think that those roles are predestined.”

Sandor stood stunned.

“Hail King Sandor!” the monk said.

“Hail King Sandor!” a hundred voices repeated.

The cheer rolled back in from even more voices outside the palace.

“You must choose a Sorcerer to advise you in magical and spiritual matters,” the monk stated.

Sandor looked at Cela of Tar and she smiled, bowed and took his hand. She gave it a strong squeezed and he smiled back at her.

“You will need a minister of Peace and War, a man who knows enough about war to value peace.”

Sandor extended his other hand to Hawk, who thumped his fist to his chest and then bowed.

There was a quiet moment. Sandor looked at his diminutive comrade.

Slip was showing just a bit of his glum face.

“I will need someone to run the treasury, won’t I?” he asked the monk.

“Absolutely, my liege!” came the answer.

“Slip, could you be in charge of all the money?” he asked with a smirk.

“You would test my honesty, wouldn’t you?” the little man said. The two of them smiled and shook hands.

“Your Majesty, our court physician has news,” a man in purple silk robes announced.

“What?” Sandor said.

“Your dragon,” he said hesitantly.

“What?”

“She is with child!”

Sandor began laughing, and was soon joined by all his friends. A moment later everyone in the throne room was laughing.

And thus began 300 years of peace and prosperity in the Kingdom of Takis.

Thus it always is with a realm that is based on the truest heart of the crown.

THE END

© 2008 C. Wayne Owens