King of Kings- Book 4 The Council of the Light Series.

Part 7

When the High King decided to go into his city he didn't do it with a thirty guard strong shadow. He went with one man- Ohlo. Ohlo Innisman- Grendal's personal servant/ guard/ henchman- was now the one person Clarence actually trusted to watch his back. Ironic, due to the fact that the scaring across it was largely down to Ohlo- and Grendal's- sport of him as a child.

To Clarence, Ohlo had been a nightmare haunting his dreams for longer than he cared to admit. The reason he woke in the night shivering after he had run from the court at the age of fifteen. Ohlo was his abuser- his tormentor- and now the one man he trusted to keep him safe.

It would have been laughable if the threats to Clarence's life were not so real.

"Are you sure you know where you are going?" Ohlo asked him for the fifth time. His Scandinavian accent had never dimmed- even though he had been away from his native continent on the world Innis for so long. "You are taking such a long time to get there." Ohlo rested his plate sized fists onto the hilts of his twin swords as he walked. His beard reached his shoulder-blades- once it had been longer. Eyes so blue they seemed to glow with dark humour scanned the path ahead of them. "If I didn't know better, Majesty, I'd think you were lost."

"Maybe I'm enjoying the night air."

Ohlo snorted in response. It was a nice night for Everment City on the world of Morningdew. The rain had passed, the steep cobblestone streets that wound from mountain down to dock were highlighted with moonshine. The air had the heady scent of pine-forests and autumn leaves. But Ohlo was right. Clarence didn't have a clue where he was.

"It's this way," Ohlo pointed with his thumb back the way they came. "Why are you personally finding Fraggle of Northdale when you could have the castle guards drag him back to his bed?"

"Because Silvan's ranting is a horrible way to learn your brother is dead and I've not been able to see him since." Clarence was not surprised he had to spell it out to Ohlo, he wasn't sure the man had feelings beyond his own self-gratification and a singular loyalty to Grendal. "Having him dragged home by guards is insulting." He rounded on Ohlo, his green eyes catching the moonlight as he did. So much so that Ohlo put his hands up in mock surrender.

But Clarence was the one who surrendered to Ohlo's directions as they turned west, down towards a district known as Bridge Street.

Clarence wasn't dressed as a king tonight, but he wasn't dressed poorly either, and Ohlo- who never actually seemed to change out of his leathers looked every bit his bodyguard. Never mind that Clarence alone could take on most men and win- Ohlo was a soldier in his own league. From the way his eyes creased as he took in the tavern on Bridge Street, he had already decided that they wouldn't face any true threat inside- other than their own sloppy drunkenness if they chose that path.

"We are here to collect Fraggle of Northdale to his bed," Clarence said to the door man, who looked them both up and down then turned his eyes away into the night- ignoring them completely.

Ohlo cleared his throat and peeled back a fold in his jacket to reveal the royal broach. The doorman paled, and banged on the iron and wood coach door- the servants entrance. A moment later a man greeted them with a bow. "Servants to the High Crown, we welcome you," he simpered.

"Fraggle of Northdale," Clarence said again. He didn't feel much like repeating himself, though he was enjoying the fact that nobody knew who he was.

"Was here good sirs' but is no longer."

Clarence sniffed with impatience. "You will let us in to look for him," he said. Wondering if Fraggle had told the staff to keep the Castle Guards away.