Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3) (21 page)

“… satisfied with our choice. Let me speak no further, and instead, swear in our new chief.”

Fargus went to the other side of the platform that Ramadus stood on, still with that ugly grin that Typhos loathed. Fargus walked with some difficulty, taking each step one at a time. Ramadus said, “Take your time, chief,” in a clearly sarcastic tone, one soft enough that only the other councilors and the first row heard it, but it enraged Typhos even further, who gave thought to “accidentally” shooting a spell off.

But the firm hand of Pagus ended that possibility.

“Repeat after me. I, Ramadus Espa.”

“I, Ramadus Espa,” Ramadus said with way too much pompousness for Typhos’ ears.

“Do swear to lead, support and raise the Kastori.”

“Do swear to lead, uh, raise, uh… yeah, the Kastori.”

Typhos didn’t bother hiding his horror as he put his head in his hands. A few murmurs broke out but didn’t go much further.

“I give my life to this role.”

“I give my life to this role.”

At least he can get something right.

“And I will lead the council with justice.”

“And I will lead the council with justice.”

“For all on Anatolus.”

“For all on Anatolus,” Ramadus yelled in a pitch that drew laughter from almost everyone.
Sure knows how serious this role is. Lovely.

“Thank you. To the Kastori… I present to you, your new chief, Ramadus Espa.”

The crowd cheered wildly, and Typhos looked back. They weren’t just cheering at this point—they were going insane.
So stupid
.
Just remember, it’s good when you get to that point where you’re controlling them.

Mocking Ramadus, Typhos held his hands high and clapped sarcastically. He knew Ramadus had to have seen him, but, with the realization that most people on Anatolus bent closer to Ramadus’ beliefs than Typhos’, the boy felt no shame in mocking the new chief.
Not like I can lose anything else.

Ramadus cleared his throat and spoke.

“Hi,” he said, but his voice was far too distant. Fargus came up and put his hand on the shoulder of the new chief, and Ramadus spoke again.”Hi! Sorry, Fargus reminded me I need to project more.”

Laughter came, but to Typhos, it was yet another reminder.

I can’t be the only one who feels this way. Some of the council members have to feel this way too. Surely whoever voted against him.

“I come before you to serve you, the Kastori,” he said, with heavy emphasis on the last three words.

The crowd applauded more, leaving Typhos wondering why the Kastori focused so much on the emotion of what Ramadus said and not any of the substance.

“I know that we have suffered much tragedy in the last year. First, the loss of our long-time chief and still consultant, Adus.”

Adanus, you idiot. Really. Really. You disrespect my father’s name like that.

Typhos paused. He so disliked his father but was willing to use the mistake of Ramadus as a reason to hate the new chief. Could he have it both ways?

It’s Ramadus. Yes, yes you can.

“Recently, we found out that our chief, the one I am replacing, Aidus—”

Wow.

Typhos didn’t bother to hide his exasperation because he didn’t think anyone would hold it against him.
My parents. Even that has to overrule the love for Ramadus.

“Died. It is a tragic time. We must never forget the good that they did for all of us, and the direction that they sent us in.”

Butcher my name. I dare you.

“But, good news!”

Of course you don’t. Coward.

The crowd perked up.
What could possibly be good news about anything today?

“No longer will we have turmoil on the council. No longer will we have tragedy strike. I am young, vigorous and ready to work. I am prepared to give everything I have, and not just for a few years, but for a long time. I intend to be chief for life, and with my youth, you know what that means!”

Typhos grimaced at the applause that came. It gnawed at him like a thorn digging its way deeper and deeper into his skin.
This is getting torturous. He disrespected their names, he said he would stay on forever…

“We have much work to do, so I will keep this short. But know that I, Ramadus Espa, am here for you now and for the rest of your lives!”

Well glad that’s done with. But wow, all this applause… I never thought Anatolus would sink this low.

I never imagined anyone could so easily manipulate the Kastori.

Typhos slowly clapped, so slow it could’ve been mocking, but also at a comfortable enough pace that he could argue he was merely applauding slowly. He was sincere in one part—he was applauding that the speech had ended.

Ramadus stood behind the council members, who walked back through the crowd in the same formation. When Ramadus passed by Typhos, he offered his hand to shake it. Not wanting to cause a scene, Typhos shook it, but he shot a look at Ramadus with his steeled, cold expression that matched the intensity of the grip he gave in his handshake. It said one thing.

I will take your job. You are not for long.

But Ramadus was either too giddy or stupid to notice and immediately went to the next person. Ramadus continued down the open aisle, shaking hands with everyone he could along the aisle. When he and the council members finally reached the end, and they all teleported back to the peak of Mount Ardor, Typhos left without even saying goodbye to Pagus. He ignored the throngs of people laughing and conversing and tried his best to ignore those who sounded excited about Ramadus’ rule. He went to his favorite spot for isolation and looked up at Mount Ardor.

You had better fill that council position, Ramadus.

I will make you if you don’t.

37

One year later, Typhos’ fears had come true.

Ramadus had not filled the black magic councilor role. He didn’t even seem interested, and despite Typhos’ constant requests to Garron and even Fargus to push Ramadus to fill the role, Typhos never heard even a possibility of positive news. The constant bad news of the last two years had aged the boy drastically, who remained a teenager physically but carried the emotional and mental burden of a man more than twice his age. Ramadus seemed disinterested in advancing the Kastori, for its people never went to new worlds—at least, not to Typhos’ knowledge, who now knew almost everything there was to know. Its population never learned new magic. It remained stagnant as a race, and Typhos laid the blame squarely at the feet of the new chief.

You have to suck it up.

You want to be a councilor…

You have to talk to Ramadus himself.

Typhos hated the idea. But he hated the possibility of a future with no role even further.
Working with Ramadus will suck terribly. But you’ve seen what inertia and lack of activity do to you. You need to go. Once there, kick him out. Or, why not, just kill him.

But don’t just stand there.

Go.

Even though Ramadus wouldn’t leave the council for another hour, Typhos teleported as far south as he could, not caring if he accidentally wound up in the ocean. He pleasantly surprised himself by landing about a mile outside the outpost, a positive sign for his still-growing red magic skills. He meandered casually, wanting to seem like he was there for a friendly visit. Just outside of the first tent—the gold one, Ramadus’—a young woman walked by.

“Hi,” Typhos said, trying to get her attention. She turned around, and Typhos recognized her immediately. “Reya! Long time no see!”

“Likewise!” she said excitedly, but her face soon turned to concern. “You don’t look good, Typhos, are you OK?”

“Well, you know how the last couple of years have been,” he said, trying to move past the topic quickly. “Anyways, I’m wondering if you have seen Ramadus return today, and if so, do you know where he is?”

“Well, no, he hasn’t come back yet. You could wait by the entrance—”

“No, I want to wait here,” Typhos said, referencing Ramadus’ home. “I want to make sure I get an audience with him. It’s important.”

And that he knows I’m always going to be a thorn in his side and not go anywhere.

“Oh… OK,” Reya said, a bit surprised by his audacity.

Doesn’t matter. If she’s like the rest of them, she can easily forget that when the time is right. And since she’s my age, that’s likely.

Reya continued on her errand, and Typhos sat down at the entrance to Ramadus’ tent, content to stare at the golden sky and setting sun.

His mother flashed in his mind.

“No,” he said.

Why now? You wait a year, and now—

Another image appeared. But once again, his mother didn’t look like the mother who had left him. She looked closer to Ramadus in age than she actually was.

But more disturbingly to Typhos, she was holding a child. A young boy.

He didn’t have time to make out any details of the child. But it was his half-brother.

No! Get out! I hate you! I hate you both!

“No!” he grunted to himself.

The images stopped. But the sights had told him too much.
My mother. My brother.

I hate both of you. Never come here. Never.

Or else…

He gasped as he slowly refocused on the sky up above. He wiped sweat from his brow as he tried to slow his breathing.

“Well, well, our favorite prodigious son, Typhos,” Ramadus said, his voice carrying across the plain.

I’m impressed you even know the word prodigious, Ramadus.

“Waiting for me outside my home? This must be incredibly important.”

Typhos detected subtle sarcasm in the man’s voice, but pretended to believe the chief was sincere—
don’t need more reason to be angry.

“How are you doing, bud?” Ramadus said, shaking the hand of the young boy and awkwardly embracing him. “You look just like your father. You’re a handsome young man.”

“Thanks, Ramadus,” Typhos said, trying to keep his voice neutral as he grew annoyed with the silly diplomatic statements of the chief.

“You’re going to be a great Kastori someday.”

Odd choice of words there. Not councilor? Not chief?

“That is the hope,” Typhos said, hating himself for becoming equally diplomatic in conversation.

“Now, I understand by your presence you want to speak to me. What can I do for you, Typhos?”

Typhos took a quick breath in, and reminded himself that the best way to have a chance at the position was not to politic for it directly, but to suggest making it open for anyone. Then, knowing there were no other Kastori besides Pagus who had any ambition of getting on the council—and Pagus had already said he enjoyed working for his father and would wait for Garron’s death to become a council member—Typhos would step in and claim the spot.
That’s how I see it, at least. Have to hope Pagus still has the same view.

“I just wanted to make a suggestion, sir,” Typhos said, a salutation that dug at him when he said it.
Too bad “giant moron” isn’t courteous or chief-worthy.
“The sixth council spot has been open for over a year now, and I think it would do the council good if you filled that spot. With five members, and only one black magic councilor, it feels like to some of us that the council isn’t properly represented. I am, of course, only making a suggestion, and it is your decision, but I know some people would have more faith in the council if it had that sixth member there.”

“Hmm,” Ramadus said as if he had never before considered the question.
Idiot. Even my father filled his empty vacancies eventually.
“You bring up a very good point, Typhos. A very, very good point. You are a smart man.”

It took everything in Typhos’ power not to groan loudly or mock Ramadus at that moment.
I know he’s mocking me. And I can’t do anything about it.

“To be honest, it has been nice seeing the council figure things out themselves. Since they cannot ever reach a tie, they always come to a conclusion themselves, and it makes for scintillating observation. I can watch from the sidelines and give input as needed, but they don’t need me. It’s great!”

Well, at least if he’s lazy, he’s not making decisions directly.

“Well, sir, may I?” Typhos said. “My parents would often speak about how holding that tiebreaking vote as chief of the council was an honor and something they held with tremendous respect.”

And by often speak, I mean they never spoke. But I’m sure they have before. Just not with me. They never discussed anything with me.

“They knew that six incredibly intelligent people had spoken before them and given their opinions and that their duty as chief required them to weigh the arguments on each side before ultimately making a decision.”

Typhos couldn’t believe he was about to use flattery as Ramadus did, but he had to swallow his pride.