Chapter 3: The Spoiled Princess – Greed

Betrayal and greed are actions that have been around since before the beginning of time as we knew it which leads us into our next chapter set in medieval times where kingdoms fought for lands but one kingdom imploded within itself and a countries choice and a father's pain of sacrifice helped heal the wounds.

The end was near and Thomas knew it. Before the prophetess Lara had come to Lamington to preach repentance to the people, he knew it. The selfishness of men had spread like a plague. His daughter, vain and spoiled, had not been untouched by it. She was the epitome of it. If he had not lost his wife perhaps the end would have never been so. When the prophetess had warned him that the signs of destruction would come from his own house, He knew if anyone would be the author of destruction, it would be Almeria. The Council demanded her head. He had no wish to stop them in their unanimity even if he could. Almeria had pouted and he had relented. Yes, the prophetess must die, he agreed. Now, he was a full partner in man's destruction.

When the headsman's ax claimed the life of the prophetess, Thomas knew the punishment met from Heaven would be great. The Council cheered at their triumph over the prophetess, and even over the Maker himself, he was numb to it all. He could read the signs - he could see the city of men on the brink of destruction, and even he - King of Lamington - could do nothing to stop it. Crushed first by the death of his wife and then by Almeria's reckless vanity the destruction before him was more than his heart could bear. Lara's death did not stop her words from ringing in Thomas's ears. Her words were true. But he was still a father. When Almeria's tears fell, his heart could not remain unaffected.

Though his kingdom was already stretched thin and his people, were despised around the world, his weakness for his daughter could not be overcome. Had he not already spent a lifetime spoiling her? Was it not his fault she was vain and selfish? Since he had been instrumental in her creation, he could not be part of her destruction. Like Almeria, men cared little about the opinions of the other races, convinced of their superiority above them.

"It will be our downfall," the prophetess had said. "Selfishness leads to destruction. And if war does not claim these people, the Creator will. As his chosen people we have a greater call, and a greater punishment for failure."

Thomas could hear those words echoing in his mind. There was just the smallest amount of hope in his breast that they would overcome. They had overcome so many things in the past - the selfishness of one princess should not be too much. At the least, Thomas hoped that he would not live to see the destruction of his people. When his captains, Caleb, and Marco, returned to the Lamington, he felt hope. Caleb and Marco were promising young warriors with brave hearts. They hadn't the touch of vanity that Almeria had, nor the selfishness. They lived for each other - serving one another. They were such men that Thomas wished all men could be like them, with such devotion that he decided one of them would have his daughter as wife - and be made king.

Thomas had his own devices for choosing between the two, but Almeria had other plans. Knowing that her father had intended one of them for the throne, and her husband, she set about their destruction. She seduced them, slowly and separately, and set them against each other with the cunning and forethought of a diplomat. If she was the prize, she was determined that the contest must be equal to the victory. Nothing grieved Thomas so much as to know his daughter had not only set the brothers against each other but had begun a civil war when their followers fell behind each brother - sure that the victor would not only win Almeria's hand but become king of the Lamington.

Thomas could not sit idly and watch the two brothers destroy the Lamington in their private war; an end had to be put to this. A three-way battle ensued that was both costly and bloody. But try as he might to convince Almeria of her mistake, she was not disturbed that she was the creator of so much carnage. It pleased her to know that the two lords and brothers were not only so in love with her that they fought each other, but fought her father as well. Perhaps it was because she remained untouched by it all in the towers of Solace. Even as Marco was killed, it brought no sorrow to her. When Caleb and his followers were captured, she was not concerned. Not even the Council could take the life of nobility.

They would be banished to the wastelands. Caleb would live, and Almeria now knew who the superior of the two brothers was. The council, after counting the cost of a bloody war, demanded that Almeria pay a price. Princess or not, she could not go unpunished. But Thomas refused to give his daughter up, he was still her father. He could not abandon his role as protector of his child. Even as she pleaded for her father for his protection, she was planning and scheming. Only The Gods knew what was going through that beautiful head. Faithless daughter, Thomas thought.

He knew the Council would find a way to take her from him. Perhaps it was his concession to their will that he did not post extra guards at Almeria's door. He knew when he bid her goodnight; he would not see her again. As he put the lights out in his room, he would block out the next events to take place. A warrior came to the princess the same night, convinced her that he was a messenger from Caleb, and was to take her to a place where they could meet and speak one final time. Almeria was pleased by the request, and excited at the adventure of sneaking out of the one place where she would be safe.

When the warrior took her to the Old Magi's grounds - she thought nothing of it except that it was the perfect meeting spot. No magic could be worked on the grounds but that which had been sealed by twelve members of the Council. She was led to the center which lay exposed to the elements.

"Almeria, daughter of Thomas," someone said from the shadows beyond.

"Caleb?" Almeria asked. As the warrior slips away back into the darkness.

Almeria watched as one by one, twelve lanterns were lit. She looked on in confusion as she recognized the faces that circled her. It was the Council.

"For your part in this war," High Councilman Barabbas addressed the princess, "you must be punished."

"Where is my father?" she demanded.

"The council does not need the approval of the King when their decision is unanimous. The charges against you are conspiring to set two lords against one another thus setting the nation at war. Do you deny these charges?"

"Why should I deny it?" she asked. "Do not lions fight to gain their mate? Am I not better than a lioness that I should find which of my suitors is better?"

"If you do not deny the charges," Barabbas continued ignoring her words. "We will now carry out punishment."

"You cannot touch me!" she replied haughtily. "I am a Princess of the Lamington! There is no heir without me!"

They said nothing, as the grand Magi walked into the center of the circle raising his hands to the Gods and chanting.

"Wait!" Almeria demanded, but it was too late, she felt the magic being worked within the circle.

"Almeria princess of Lamington," the head councilor spoke as magic swirled about the sky, "for your part in the destruction of a noble family, for the death and destruction of many men, and for ripping our nation in two - we sentence you to a life befitting your crime. So that you may see what bloodshed is, what men do in anger, passion, and fear your punishment shall be to spend your life as an instrument of war, banished from your people until you find compassion from one who wields you. May the Gods forgive you for the lives you have destroyed so casually?"

The power swirled about like misty blue clouds in a whirlpool, building and growing thicker until they were one solid vapor resting above the princess. Unable to move caught in the spell of the Magi, Almeria could only watch as it descended upon her. The beautiful Princess watched as her hands began to disappear. She looked at her feet, they were slowly disappearing into the blue mist, and then, she could see nothing, couldn't breathe or move - couldn't feel, but she knew she was still alive. She felt someone holding her, but it was strange, otherworldly. She heard a sound and felt herself being scraped by metal. When she was free, she could see around her. The Magi was still there; the council still surrounded her. She could see it all - as if she had eyes all about her body. Still, she could not move, held by a hand below her.

"You will only be able to see while wielded by the hand of your master," Barabbas said. "In your sheath, you will see nothing."

"Sheath?" she asked, though she could not feel her mouth or lips. She struggled to move, to feel, to breathe, but she couldn't.

The hand lowered her and she could see the warrior that had led her here. He was holding the handle of a sword. As she tried to look at the blade, the warrior changed his grip on the handle. She felt it. She felt his hand move about her body as he offered the sword palms up to the Council. She was the sword! Thomas wept when he discovered what had been done. But he also had hope. Hopefully, this was what the prophetess saw and what was to be as he sent out his warrior to deliver the sword to Caleb whose pain and anger consumed him after killing his brother this gift Thomas thought might be a way for him to repent his sins. As the warrior handed Caleb the sword he unsheathed holding it up the sword spoke. "Caleb." "Almeria." Said Caleb; in a stuttering voice. Caleb looked at the warrior puzzled then was handed Caleb a note that read:

Caleb,

To make amends for all your vile destruction which I know deep down you and Marco would have never created without the help of my daughter I give her to you in hopes you can learn from her and she from you and you will grow together and one day return anew to take over the kingdom and take your rightful place on my throne. There will be eyes upon your every move.

With hopeful thoughts,

King Thomas of Lamington