Chapter #5Call the guards. by: Joy   I Tyrl Keravin, the king, who has been made king by the last will and testament of the last king who was slain, has been subject to slander, a frame-up, a downright lie. The more I thought about it, the more I felt the power of the manteau on my shoulders. How dare they!
My pride was hurt although I knew any pride to self-delusion. While I was a red fish passively observing life from the inside of a fishbowl, how ironic was that, the timid person, a mama's boy, to be exact, would crack the the glass and be lured out into the freedom of a wide, wild ocean, to be made a king to it. I felt like Poseidon now, and not the shabby-looking ineffectual character.
And Poseidon I was when I called for the guards. Forstrone, the chief of the guards, rushed in wirh two armor-clad knights following him. I held the note to his note. “Who put this on my table? Weren’t you around watching this room?” I roared.
“Only who was allowed, Your Majesty,” he replied. “You know we have a list of people drawn by the old king, May his soul rest in peace, and we only let them in here.”
“Bring me a copy of that list and alert the head investigator. I want this person, who wrote this note and put it here under my nose, brought to me so I can deal with him with the proper justice that he deserves.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Forstrone bowed and walked backwards to exit the throne room with the two knights at his heels.
After he left, I sunk to deep thought. This character who was out to get me through his lies and sneaky trappings evoked my curiosity. Why would anyone partake, through such a serious nature of lies, in such a personal intrusion to my welfare or rather the welfare of the kingdom?
It had to be someone close to the deceased king who had his very eyes on this throne on which I was sitting. The throne wasn’t even a comfortable one. With all the gilded fancy work adorning it, the workers had omitted the seat. No wonder the old king had a faulty gait. Once I would solve the puzzle of the note, I decided to do something about this seat. After all, no king should feel resentment against his throne.
“Your Majesty, Chief Guard Forstrone requests your counsel,” the guard at the door announced.
“Send him in!”
When Forstrone appeared I crooked my finger for him to approach.
Forstrone walked in front of me and bowed. Then he handed me a scroll.
“The list you asked for, Your Majesty,” he said.
“All right,” I said calmly. “You are entitled to five gold pieces for your promptness. Now, tell me, who do you think on this list wanted the throne after the old king?”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Forstrone, with an embarrassed chuckle. “I think everyone on that list did. All of them are suspect.” And then with a note of appreciation in his voice, he added, “Only you, Your Majesty, were seen fit above and beyond those in the list. I have heard the deceased king refer to Your Majesty as a first-rate person, and I am always faithful to my kings, as I now pledge my loyalty to you, Sir, that I will do my utmost to bring the culprit to justice.”
Me? A first-rate person? Never underestimate the value of a few gold piece to buy loyalty, but I knew what I was doing.
“Thank you, Forstrone,” I said. “You may go, now, and do the best you can for this matter. Please!”
Forstrone backed up as he bowed. I barely heard him remark at the door, “A king who says please…”
Then I glanced at the list.
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