“I received many wounds on that day,” Seavig continued after a long pause, “some of which I am reminded of every time I bend my knee. But that’s not what I remember most of all—nor is it the fact that we killed them all. What I remember most are your words. And my surprise at seeing you unafraid. On the contrary, I never saw you happier than at that moment. Your courage gave me strength. That was the day I vowed to become a great warrior.”

Duncan pondered his friend’s words deeply, memories rushing back, as they rode in silence for a long time. Duncan hardly believed so many years had passed. Where had his youth gone?

“The kingship should be yours,” Seavig said, after a long silence, his voice hard, his words rolling on the fog.

Duncan was startled by his words; the kingship was not something he aspired to, and his friend’s voice felt like his darker conscious egging him on.

Duncan shook his head.

“The old King was my friend,” he replied. “I have always aspired only to serve.”

“He betrayed the kingship,” Seavig countered. “He surrendered Escalon. He does not deserve to be King. I, for one, will never serve him again, if Escalon should ever be free—and neither will the others. We have no king—don’t you see that? And what will a free Escalon be without a king?”

“That may be so,” Duncan said, “and yet still he is our King, worthy or not. Surrendering a land does not forfeit a kingship.”

“Doesn’t it?” Seavig replied. “If not that, then what? What is a King who does not defend his land?”

Duncan sighed, knowing his friend was right. He had thought this through many times himself. Speaking to his friend was like arguing with himself; he was unsure what to say.

“Even if we had a new king,” Duncan replied, “why should it be me? There are many worthy men out there.”

“We all respect you,” Seavig replied. “All the warlords. All the great warriors who remain, scattered across Escalon. You represent what is best in all of us. When the Tarnis surrendered the land, we all expected you to assume the kingship. But you did not. Your silence spoke louder than all. It was your silence, my friend, your sticking by the old King’s side, that enabled Pandesia to take our land.”

The words struck Duncan deep, like a dagger in his heart, as he wondered if his friend were right. He had never considered it that way.

“I wanted only to be loyal,” Duncan replied. “Loyal to my land, loyal to my people, and loyal to my king.”

Seavig shook his head.

“Loyalty can be the greatest danger of all, when it is blind, when it is misplaced.”

Duncan thought about that. Had he been blinded by loyalty for the sake of loyalty?