Keeping the Peace, Part I
A bauble near his bed woke Kurgm up well before the sun came up. He stumbled through his room to the washroom, tapping the panel to illuminate the room. After cleaning himself up, he got dressed in clean clothes, grabbed his belt and checked the pouches, then slung his pack over his shoulder and left his room.
The door to his room brought him to the base of the north tower. Few people, much less apprentices, woke up as early as he did, so the corridors weren’t full of people yet. His walk down to the kitchens for an early morning snack was quiet. The kitchen staff was already preparing breakfast, but many of them smiled and greeted him on their way past where he sat.
When he was finished, he left the kitchens and headed for the east wing. More people were awake and moving, but it wasn’t until he reached the door to the temple did he hear noise.
He walked through the door and out of the castle, into the main chamber of the Temple of the Rising Sun. Already people were gathering before the statue of the Goddess Olmgra, laying out mats on which they could kneel without resting on the stone floor. People came in from the castle and the city alike. The windows near the roof already let the first rays of light into the chamber.
Kurgm found an empty spot on the floor and laid out his own mat. He kneeled and looked into the kind eyes of Olmgra. She wore a robe and hood, with wide, welcoming arms and a loving smile.
Bells tolled for the start of the Sun Welcoming Ceremony, and the noise stopped. People found their places as a priest wearing blue and white robes walked into the chamber, carrying a wooden staff. Strips of wood were woven together, branching out at the end to represent life’s infinite possibilities. Behind her walked two younger priests, apprentices by the look of them, although Kurgm never got a chance to talk to any of them. All three of them had their hoods over their heads.
The three priests took places in front of the statue, facing the gathered people. Without speaking, they knelt down and bowed their heads. One of the apprentices held chimes that jingled softly. They grew louder, and as they did, people began to rise. Light slowly flooded the chamber as the sun rose. All other light had been dimmed in preparation, putting the night in the past to welcome the day.
When they stood tall, everyone lifted their heads to the sky.
“Nira!”
All voices joined together to welcome the sun, calling its name in the arcane language. The call echoed through the stone chamber, now filled with the light of day.
“May you all bear the hope of a new day,” the priest said. She raised the staff. “And may Olmgra smile down upon you.”
The priests had their hoods lowered, giving Kurgm a good look at their faces. One of the apprentices was new. Not only that, but something about her was familiar. Kurgm rolled up his mat, not having time to talk.
After the ceremony, Kurgm returned to his room to grab his gear for the day. He attached his sword to his belt, then added light armor to his clothes. When he left his room, he found the reason he could never stay and talk to people at the temple waiting for him.
Master Ekla tossed him two pouches, one with rations, another with water.
“What’s this?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Breakfast.” She motioned for him to follow her. “We’re on patrol today.”
“What’s going on?”
“Protests.”
When they stepped outside of the castle, Kurgm slid gloves over his hands. His breath turned to mist in the air, but the cold didn’t slow Master Ekla’s pace at all. She strode into the city, forcing him to trot to keep up with her.
“How was the Sun Welcoming Ceremony?” she asked.
“The same as always. Later, because it’s the cold season. Since when do you ask?”
“I’m your master, I’m supposed to take an interest in your life.”
She’d been his master for over a year, and in that time, she’d made it clear that she didn’t care for any of the deities.
They didn’t need to walk far for him to hear the chanting. Master Ekla led him through the city, where he saw other knights posted to keep an eye on things. Eventually they reached their place.
“We stand here,” she said. “We don’t respond, no matter how much they taunt us. We don’t attack, we defend.”
“I don’t understand,” he said. “Why are they protesting?”
Master Ekla eyed him, then nodded toward the protesters.
“Can’t you read their signs?”
Kurgm squinted, but couldn’t make out the words from their post.
“You need glasses.”
It wasn’t a question. Kurgm knew it, but he couldn’t imagine needing them.
“Your father always wore them too,” Ekla said. “We’ll take you to Our Lord High Artisan when we get back.” She nodded at the signs again. “The dragon attack last week. It wiped out a farm just outside the city limits. Without it, there’s no food.”
“Why are they protesting? What are they protesting? Do they think we did this?”
“In a way, yes. A few years ago, His Majesty and the officers created a truce with the dragons. The intention was to stop this from happening, but it doesn’t work unless everyone sticks to the agreement.”
“And?”
“And a dragon didn’t stick to the agreement. We’re working on getting to the bottom of it.”
“Don’t they know what’s going on?”
“Of course they do. We tell them within seven days of finding out there’s a problem, at most. This time, it was the same day. We have to be honest with the people if we want them to trust us.”
Kurgm nodded. He’d heard the same thing before, probably from the same person that had told it to Master Ekla.
“Just because they understand, doesn’t mean they’re okay with it. It’s easy enough to understand someone taking your money because they need it for their starving family, but it doesn’t mean you’re not upset that they took it.”
Kurgm turned back to the protesters. He wondered if there was anything he could do to help, beyond standing and watching. He wasn’t paid as an apprentice; they were provided food, shelter, and clothes, but their families had to pay for anything else they needed.
“Is there anything we can do?”
“We’re doing it now. It’s our job to make sure everyone stays safe. Knights are posted all over the city to ensure this protest stays peaceful.”
“But that doesn’t change things for them.”
Ekla shook her head. “It doesn’t, but His Majesty will fix this. He always does. There are procedures in place for this. In a few days, things will improve, and in another few, the protests will die down.”
Kurgm couldn’t remember a time when the city dissolved into chaos, so he was sure His Majesty would fix it this time too.
Why hasn’t he fixed it already?
Kurgm dismissed the thought. Everything would be fine. He focused on the protests. People were yelling, angry, upset, but they didn’t get too close.
“Do these often turn violent?” he asked.
“Not often, but everyone else feels better when we’re here,” Ekla replied. “Some people use protests as a cover to loot some of the shops in the area.”
The people slowly stopped marching, and all turned to face a few people in particular. One of them held what looked like a cup to their mouth.
“Good people of Skwyr,” the woman said, her voice amplified by the object in her hand. “Last week, we lost friends to a dragon attack. An attack the castle promised would never happen again! Because of their lies, we’ve lost people and food. The cold season is upon us! Without that food, what will happen to the rest of us? Will we perish too? Or will the castle do something about it?”
Cheers went up through the crowd.
“We will not be ignored! It isn’t for His Majesty to handle in his own time! We demand action! We demand that our children are fed and protected! What did we get out of this so-called treaty His Majesty formed with the dragons? What’s to stop them from burning all of our homes down? From killing more of our people?”
Amid more cheers, Kurgm frowned and shook his head. His Majesty must’ve thought of that when he formed the treaty. A few years back, Kurgm remembered hearing about it in the castle. It was a wonderful thing, safety from the dragons, enforced by the friendly ones. He’d had the same question a week ago when he’d heard about the attack before: What had happened to the treaty?
“We demand that His Majesty comes out here and answers for himself! We demand justice!”
“They’re wrong.”
“Sh!” Ekla hissed. “Don’t say anything. Sit, listen, watch. That’s all we need to do. Anything else will make it worse.”
“His Majesty is too far above us to care! What are we to him? His loyal subjects? Or his willing slaves?”
Ekla’s hand shot out and grabbed Kurgm’s arm before he could take a step. He could barely think straight. How could they talk about His Majesty that way? He was one of the kindest people Kurgm had met. Kurgm was sure His Majesty would starve long before he let anyone else do so.
“They don’t know him,” she said, keeping her voice down. “To them, he’s any other king. They haven’t met him like we have, and he can’t come out in person to quell every uprising. Our job is to make sure news of this gets back to him. For now, we listen and watch.”
Kurgm did just that for the next few hours. He listened to them talk about the king like he was a tyrant. More people spoke, saying much the same as the first. They all told stories of hungry families, of food shortages, of fear. How bad was this?
“Worse than we thought,” Ekla said when he asked. What worried him most was how concerned she was. She watched the protests with a furrowed brow. It was worse than she’d realized, and that was worse than anything the protesters could say or do.
Kurgm kept himself calm, but the question had taken root.
Why isn’t His Majesty fixing this?