Mortality: The Story of Mortanius

Chapter Forty-Two

They were escorted by two guards to the throne room, to find that the place was already full of people. Servants had cleared an aisle down the center of the room, on either side of which was a tightly packed mass of people, mostly nobles and high-ranking politicians. Guards were spaced out evenly along the walls and all around the throne. Near the back of the room, they allowed local merchants and well-regarded citizens to fill in whatever empty spaces remained. The mood was positive, the attitude friendly and jovial.

“Mortanius!” a voice boomed. “Over here!”

It was Bane, the Guardian of Nature, waving his arms in the middle of the crowd. Beside him, comparatively tiny next to his tall and muscular frame, was DeJoule, the Guardian of Energy. She looked embarrassed at his outburst, but waved them over as well.

“We looked for you earlier,” she said as they walked over. “But we couldn’t find you so we came here to wait.”

Mortanius shook Bane’s hand and gave DeJoule a quick hug. “It’s a shame we missed you. We got to meet with William, for a few minutes at least.”

DeJoule looked crestfallen. “Oh, I’d like to meet him too. I guess I’ll just have to wait until his birthday next year.”

“I brought William a gift,” Moebius said. “So I’ll have to wait in line. I’ll catch up with you after I’m finished.”

“I brought something for him as well,” Bane said. “But I left it with my servants outside.”

“Then have them bring it in and get yourself a place in line,” Moebius advised with a smile. “I suspect the line will get quite long.”

“All right then,” Bane sighed. “I’ll be back here later.”

“Don’t worry,” DeJoule said. “We’ll wait for you.”

Bane left the throne room to retrieve his gift, and Moebius got into line. Due to his friendship with William, he was reserved a spot about twenty people back. Two servants stood right behind him, holding a long wooden case of dark, polished wood. The line continued behind him almost all the way out of the room. By the time Bane got back, it would be a hundred people long.

“I hope William’s not offended that I didn’t bring anything,” DeJoule said, wringing her hands.

Mortanius smiled. “Neither did I. I’m sure he feels that your presence here is enough of a gift. In fact, I suspect that some of the other powerful nobles here are jealous that William has four Guardians in attendance today. It’s rare to see so many of us in one place.”

“Well, both Bane and Moebius brought him something.”

“What did Bane bring?”

“A giant mountain elk, stuffed as a hunting trophy. It’s nine feet tall. It’s very impressive and I don’t even like that sort of thing. What about Moebius?”

“I have no idea what he brought.”

“It’s a long wooden box,” DeJoule said. “I wonder if he made another magical staff like the one he always carries.”

Mortanius shook his head and looked over to where Moebius was standing. He found it amusing that DeJoule didn’t know the origins of Moebius’s staff, or how they had used it to overthrow the vampires so long ago, but at the same time it saddened him that such things were unknown even to the other Guardians. How could she think that Moebius had made his own staff? Had he and Moebius never told her how he acquired it?

“No,” he said. “His staff is one-of-a-kind. I suspect he’s giving William a sword or something more befitting a ruler.”

“Yes, you’re probably right.”

William entered the throne room preceded by a line of trumpet players to announce his arrival in loud, bright tones. He waved to the assembled guests as they clapped and cheered for him. The advisers came in afterward and took up places behind the throne, along with more guards. William gave a quick speech thanking everyone for being there, and then they got started.

William played the part of a gracious, enthusiastic host perfectly. Each person who stepped up to the throne to hand over their gift was greeted with an authentic smile and warm words. The first few people were William’s family members and his closest friends. His younger sister gave him a lovingly-embroidered cloth with the symbol of their noble family. A member of another noble family, apparently one of William’s personal friends, gave him a golden ring with a huge blue sapphire. After each gift, people clapped in appreciation. After a few more family members, it was Moebius’s turn in line.

“Lord Moebius of the Pillars,” announced the castle chamberlain.

With a nod, Moebius motioned for the two servants to step ahead of him, and then walked slowly up to the throne, his staff tapping on the floor. Many of the people in the audience weren’t really paying attention, they chatted and murmured with each other, commenting on and comparing the quality of the gifts so far. Occasions such as these were opportunities for the noble families to show their wealth by giving the grandest and most expensive gifts possible.

“Greetings, Lord William,” Moebius said, “and a joyous birthday to you. I have brought this small token of my friendship and loyalty. I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will,” William said. “Bring it here and let me see.”

The two servants stood at either end of the long rectangular box while Moebius reached over it and lifted the brass latch to raise the lid. The smile on William’s face faded as he looked down with a dumbfounded expression, his mouth nearly hanging open. The other people near the throne, including Lord Delvinius and a few other high-ranking advisers, stared at the contents of the box in amazement, huddling closer around it to get a closer look.

“Oh, my,” William breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Take it, my Lord,” Moebius said, “so everyone can see.”

William held out his hand hesitantly, as if afraid that the object in the box would burn him. Mortanius leaned forward in his seat, suddenly very curious. Conversation in the hall seemed to fade away as everyone’s attention was drawn by the scene.

As Mortanius suspected, the box contained a sword, but it was not just any sword. William gripped the handle and pulled out a long serpentine blade of gleaming steel, shimmering with the light pouring in from the large windows. The crossguard was decorated with a huge skull. Despite the sword’s length and apparent weight, William raised it almost effortlessly above his head, so that even the people in the back of the room could see it.

“It’s … it’s amazing,” William said. “Wherever did you get a sword like this? I know of no weaponsmith who could forge such a blade.”

Moebius beamed, looking at William like a proud parent. “The sword in your hands is an ancient artifact, my Lord, lost for many centuries and only recently rediscovered. It’s origins are sadly lost to history, but it was forged by the ancient race of vampires that once ruled Nosgoth. It was wielded by the very last of those vampires, the creature known as Janos, who terrorized the city of Uschtenheim for hundreds of years before he was finally slain by the legendary Sarafan Knights.”

Mortanius could hardly believe his own eyes. The sword had been lost, that much was true, but Moebius had left out a few significant details. It was lost on the very night that Vorador committed the Slaughter of the Circle. Mortanius always assumed it was still in Vorador’s possession. How in the world did Moebius come to find it after so long?

“An artifact of the ancient vampires?” William asked, his eyes running up and down the wavy, swerving blade. “This is incredible. Moebius, I am not worthy of such a gift. This belongs in a museum, or ...”

“My Lord, a sword like that belongs in the hand of a great ruler, and I can think of no one in Nosgoth who fits that description better than you.”

William looked at Moebius and then nodded slightly. Perhaps a more humble man would have politely disagreed with Moebius’s assessment, but William knew that this was no place for humility. He turned the blade over, letting the light reflect down the curving edge of the blade. “Does this magnificent sword have a name?”

“None that I know of,” Moebius said. “Maybe the vampires had a name for it, but I don’t know what it might have been.”

With that, Moebius gave a small bow and stepped away from the throne, leaving William and his advisers to marvel over the beautiful weapon in his grasp. The man in line behind Moebius, some local nobleman with connections to William’s family, gave Moebius a harsh glare and then looked disapprovingly at the rare book in his hands and sighed.

Mortanius slid past a confused DeJoule and hurried to the edge of the crowd, to cut Moebius off before he could get too far away.

“Why didn’t you tell me you found the sword?” he snapped, trying unsuccessfully to keep his voice low. “Where did you find it?”

Moebius chuckled and put his hand on Mortanius’s shoulder. “Calm down, calm down. I meant to tell you, but I was busy with other things. And you’ve been working with Azimuth. I guess I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“How did you get it?” Mortanius asked again.

“We found it a few years ago. Or rather, some boys swimming in the Southern Lake found it. It was half-buried in the mud, about a hundred feet from the shore. They gave it to their local village elder and it eventually found its way to Malek.”

“It was in the lake?”

“Yes,” Moebius nodded. “Vorador must have hurled it into the water after … after the massacre. Why, I don’t know. Maybe he was trying to hide it in case we managed to track him down. Maybe he felt that he didn’t deserve the sword any more than we did.”

“That’s unbelievable,” Mortanius said. “All this time, we thought Vorador had it.”

“Apparently, it’s been in the lake ever since. And there wasn’t a spot of corrosion or rust on it. I don’t understand what method the vampires used to forge the blade, but it’s far more advanced than anything we’re capable of. The sword is flawless.”

“You’ve examined it closely? Is the sword magical?”

“Yes, although the nature of its enchantment is a mystery to me. The whole sword carries a latent magical aura, but like all the vampire artifacts, I’m not sure how it works.”

At the throne, William was accepting a gift from another high-ranking nobleman. The sword had been returned to its box and placed on a long table in the back of the room. A few guards stood nearby, keeping an eye on the sword and the other gifts that rested on the table. Mortanius wanted to walk over and inspect the sword himself, but he didn’t think they would appreciate it. Later, once the gift-giving was complete, he intended to ask William for a closer look.

“William was right,” he said. “You should have given the sword to a museum.”

“Well, I chose to give it to William instead.”

“It wasn’t yours to give. That sword is a priceless artifact.”

Moebius shrugged dismissively. Such concerns had never meant much to him. Mortanius wished he could just accept what Moebius had done, but the truth was that he was angry and frustrated that his old friend had taken it upon himself to give such an item away as a present without the consent of the rest of the Circle.

“Just look at him,” Moebius said. “Has Nosgoth ever known such a noble ruler?”

“I suppose not,” Mortanius admitted.

“Do you recognize him?”

“What do you mean? I only just met him today.”

“I know, but I described him to you once.” Moebius smiled as he watched William speak with the dignitary standing before him. The man had brought a small chest of sparkling gemstones as his gift.

Mortanius could not hide his confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s okay if you don’t remember,” Moebius said. “It was very long ago, I’m not even sure how long. Several hundred years, at least. But I told you about a tall, handsome man with long blonde hair, standing in a huge throne room such as this, wielding a ...”

“... wielding a giant curved sword,” Mortanius said, finishing the sentence. He turned and looked at William and realized that Moebius had indeed once described this very scene to him. He remembered, but like Moebius, he couldn’t recall exactly when their conversation had taken place. Moebius had been talking about his visions of the future, and he described what Mortanius was watching with his own eyes right now, half a millennium later.

“You said he was the first King of Nosgoth.”

Moebius gave a lopsided smile. “Well, maybe that was a mere assumption. He’s not the King of Nosgoth right now, that’s true. But look at him, Mortanius. He’s just the ruler of a small northern province like Winterheim, but see how many people have come here to see him? Do you doubt for even one second that he could unite all of Nosgoth if he chose to?”

Mortanius crossed his arms and watched the ceremony with new eyes. It was hard to really imagine that Moebius had a vision of this very moment hundreds of years before. Mortanius was actually living out something that Moebius had foreseen long ago. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“Well, he’s very charismatic, I’ll give him that. And he’s clearly beloved by his people. But it will take more than that for the other rulers to bend their knee to him. Do you think that Valmar from Willendorf, just for one example, will submit to anyone else’s authority?”

“Probably not,” Moebius conceded. “But the people of Willendorf might have something to say about it.”

“William seems like a good person,” Mortanius said. “But he’s still practically a child. And don’t fool yourself into thinking that being a good person can win you a kingdom. If William wants a crown, he’ll have to win it on the battlefield. That means war.”

“I thought you believed Nosgoth was heading toward war anyway. Or have you changed your mind about that?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Then if war is a certainty, shouldn’t a good man be the one to lead it? Eventually, someone will try to make themselves King. William is a far better choice than Valmar, that’s for sure.”

Mortanius looked at William again. He did have to admit that William was everything a good ruler should aspire to be. He was handsome and strong, intelligent and approachable, courteous and generous. Ever after only knowing him for a short while, Mortanius believed that William would make a very fine King indeed.

“Come on,” Moebius said. “Let’s watch the rest of the ceremony. Then we can find somewhere to talk some more.”

By the time the gift ceremony was over, more than two hours later, William had an overflowing pile of riches and a hundred people surrounding him, vying for his attention. Rather than add to the commotion, Mortanius and the other Guardians departed the throne room and made their way out of the castle.

They had supper together at a nearby tavern, where Moebius told DeJoule and Bane the complete story of the sword and its importance in the history of the Circle. Both of them agreed with Mortanius that the sword should have been placed in a museum, but it was useless to argue that point anymore. Perhaps in time, Mortanius could persuade William to hand the sword over, but for now, he decided to leave it where it was. It was as safe in William’s possession as it would be anywhere else. He didn’t get a chance to examine it more closely like he had wanted, but he was sure he’d eventually have an opportunity to study the sword in detail.

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