The Pursuit (5)
Erdil Cellabris leaned back on his throne, crossing his legs with a languid air. Before him, High Priest Hamses knelt in a posture of absolute stillness, waiting for the king to speak. Beside the throne, the handmaidens who had been favored by Erdil since his youth created shade with massive leaves, their exquisite beauty illuminating the space around his feet and armrests.
Though they could chatter like birds, they were forbidden from hearing anything not permitted by the king; they were flowers that had bloomed in silence, dressed in garments that reflected their status.
Amidst these flowers, Erdil’s rigid expression stood out like ice, entirely out of place in the desert and the garden.
"High Priest Hamses. Do you truly believe that is the news I wish to hear?"
"I am deeply sorry, Your Majesty."
Hamses bowed his head low in response to the king’s words.
"I can overlook the fact that you failed to notice the escape from the tomb. However, it is difficult to accept that even after deploying soldiers, you could not capture a single young boy. Are you attempting to deceive me?"
"How could I ever dare to do such a thing, my lord?"
Hamses answered, lowering his head even further. Despite the elderly High Priest’s submissive posture, Erdil did not soften his displeased expression.
A king is meant to be with the gods of the royal family. Yet, at the altar where the king and the gods were supposed to communicate directly, the gods had not responded to Erdil’s call. This fact was something that could not be spoken of lightly, not even in private, let alone in public.
"Have there been any reports from the villages along the river?"
"Not yet, Your Majesty."
Hamses added politely,
"He may have been swept away, or perhaps he is caught on the riverbed. I never imagined the Prince would jump into the river..."
Hamses trailed off. He was just as flustered as the king. Unlike the previous king, Erdil was a man who had seen the moment of the kingdom's founding—by the first king, Cellabart, known as the Conqueror—in his dreams every night.
It had been decades since he had decided to follow Erdil’s will to truly make Cellabris great.
"Even if he died an untimely death, he is of royal blood. If we offer him before the National Soul Festival ends, the gods might return. You must find him and bring him before me."
"Of course, Your Majesty. However, if I may be so bold, I have a thought regarding that very matter."
"What is it?"
"Should not the family that dared to commit such irreverence against the gods and the royal family be held responsible?"
At Hamses' words, a sharp glint appeared in Erdil’s eyes.
"Are you suggesting we send the family of the Gravekeeper?"
"I have already taken the head of the family, Hanlate Peanus, into custody."
Hamses spoke fluently, as if he had planned everything. Erdil let out a sound mixed with his breath, as if deep in thought.
"Hmm. I suppose. At this point, the Gravekeeper family is little more than an obstacle in our way. But Hanlate is old..."
Erdil’s eyes flashed.
"Are you suggesting we send his sons?"
Hanlate Peanus, the head of the Gravekeeper family, had two sons.
There was the eldest, Ondalan, who was born with a kind heart and was devoted to his family, and the younger, Arnat, who was calm and possessed a high sense of duty.
As those who performed the royal rituals, the Gravekeeper family was a traditional clan of practitioners with a long history. Among them, Arnat was such a prodigy in martial arts that he was called the incarnation of martial power in human form.
Hamses curled the right corner of his wrinkled mouth upward.
"If we offer the pardon of their father as a condition for the mission, would they not do everything in their power to complete it?"
"It is certainly a decent way to utilize things that are in the way."
Erdil made his decision.
"Go and bring the sons of the Peanus family."
"I obey your command, Your Majesty."
"This is ridiculous!"
Ondalan Peanus’s ears hurt, but he did not bother to show it or reprimand his younger brother. He felt the same way, after all.
Before them, Hanlate sat inside the iron bars, leaning against the hard wall with a weary face.
"My ears aren't deaf, boy. Keep your voice down."
Arnat lowered his voice, flustered.
"I apologize. But this is truly absurd. Treating Father like a criminal? None of the previous kings ever disrespected the authority of the Gravekeepers and the priests. This is an unreasonable act!"
"I feel the same way, Father. This time, the Sun Priestess group has crossed the line."
Despite his two sons' words, Hanlate shook his head calmly inside the prison cell.
"Regardless of the process, it is an undeniable fact that a problem occurred during the National Soul Festival, which is under our jurisdiction. The High Priest had sufficient justification."
Hanlate sighed and added,
"How is your mother?"
"She was so shocked she skipped lunch. I barely managed to calm her down when she said she was coming here."
"Well done. Tell her I’m sorry for making her worry for nothing. And tell her I’ll be out soon."
Ondalan and Arnat said, brightening up.
"Really?"
"Do you think so?"
The two sons, who had been shining with expectation, looked at Hanlate with bewildered eyes.
"We thought you had something you were relying on..."
"You fools. Do you think there’s such a thing? Honestly, even I am flustered that the situation has come to this."
Arnat bit his lower lip and said,
"Who could have expected this? Even Urnil could not have known that someone would survive and escape the National Soul Festival."
At his second son’s grumbling, Hanlate sighed and said,
"Regardless, it is a terrible thing for the Prince. The gods are heartless. How could they bestow such a life, like that of a moth to a flame, upon that child?"
At Hanlate’s words, the expressions of the two sons changed strangely.
"The Prince? What are you talking about, Father?"
Ondalan asked in a flustered tone. Hanlate was even more flustered by this.
"What? You two. Didn't you know?"
"We were so busy searching our home and everywhere else because you didn't return that we only heard the news and rushed here. But what is that supposed to mean? The Prince, you say."
"It is Prince Akasa who woke up and disappeared from the National Soul Festival."
At Hanlate’s words, the two sons groaned.
Usually, the throne is inherited by the monarch’s direct descendant, but Cellabris has a slightly different structure. This law of succession, known as 'succession by kinship rank,' dictates that if the king has a younger brother and descendants, the one with the higher rank—that is, the king’s younger brother—inherits the throne.
Therefore, originally, when Hartras was buried alive, Akasa was 'scheduled to be buried' with him.
"Wait a minute, Father. Prince Akasa was not the target of this National Soul Festival, was he? Although he entered the tomb, I understood that the cause of death was suffocation from a piece of fruit he was eating while sleeping."
At Arnat’s words, Hanlate nodded.
"I thought so at first, too. But as I kept ruminating on it, it seems there is a connection."
"Yes?"
"This is just my speculation. I haven't been able to sleep since tonight, so I’ve been thinking about it..."
The two sons exchanged glances and sat cross-legged in front of the iron bars. Their knees ached a little, but for practitioners like them, it wasn't enough to be concerned about.
"The Prince, who should have died long ago, or who was already dead, came back to life. Then, simply put, wouldn't there have been an existence that saved the Prince?"
The two brothers nodded.
"Let’s organize the process. First, a problem occurred at the National Soul Festival. The gods did not respond to the King’s call, and the Prince’s body disappeared. As a result, Hamses and I had an unintended power struggle, and I ended up in prison. In conclusion, the current situation is this. So I thought about it like this: 'Perhaps, did they hide the Prince’s body and plan to oust our family?'"
"That sounds plausible."
Arnat replied, nodding his head.
"Right? But there is one premise that shatters all this logic."
"Yes?"
"As I said. The gods did not respond to the King."
"Ah...!"
Watching his sons let out a faint gasp, Hanlate blinked his weary eyes.
"So I had no choice but to think differently. Hamses was just very lucky that his intimidation of me worked."
"Lucky?"
"Yes."
This time, it was Ondalan’s question. Hanlate looked at the eldest son of the family and answered,
"Originally, the National Soul Festival is a ritual that converts the remaining life force of the living into essence and offers it to the gods. However, this time, as a truly exceptional case, Prince Akasa, the son of the late King, died first and was laid to rest in the tomb. Are there any precedents you know of for when someone who is already dead intervenes in the ritual?"
Arnat quietly turned his gaze away, and Ondalan answered,
"There are none."
"That is the answer. It is an unprecedented event. Even in the long history of the Gravekeeper family, there has never been such a case. So I added two forces to it. And then it made some sense."
"Forces?"
"Yes. The late King truly cherished the Prince. You remember, don't you?"
Unlike Arnat, who showed a lukewarm reaction, Ondalan nodded clearly.
"We certainly did."
"But King Erdil was different from the late King. He was fascinated by the history of the Conqueror in his youth. He even went so far as to make the absurd claim that he would abolish the National Soul Festival and enjoy his natural lifespan as king. Of course, he had been quiet for a long time after being scolded severely by the late King once."
"We know nothing about that story."
"It happened about 50 years ago, so it’s natural you don't know. Anyway, since King Erdil is that kind of person, I thought perhaps the late King made that decision to save the Prince. If the National Soul Festival were to disappear anyway, there would officially be no reason for his son to die after the event."
"...That is a breathtaking method."
Both Ondalan, who answered, and Arnat had expressions of utter amazement. To die first in order to avoid a certain death. Who could come up with such a line of thinking? Even those who presided over the death were completely deceived.
Not only that, the influence of what the late King had done was shaking even the royal family that followed.
"Whatever method he used, it means he was so desperate that he even cut off the connection between the royal family and the gods. Of course—"
"You mean this is a hypothesis."
Hanlate, who smiled at Arnat’s words, nodded, waved his hand, and said,
"That is so. Now, off you go. I need to rest. I will leave the thinking to you two."
Hanlate, lying on the cold floor with his legs crossed, thought as he breathed evenly after only a few seconds.
'The National Soul Festival was ultimately created because Bayarat gave up the kingdom's prosperity for the sake of the world. If King Erdil truly intends to make the Conqueror’s legacy his royal path and abolish the National Soul Festival, then the kinship rank succession, the hereditary system created in relation to it, will also lose its effect. Then, naturally, Prince Akasa will be able to claim his throne.'
Hanlate slowly finished his thoughts as his consciousness sank.
'King Hartras. This friend is too old to solve the homework. So I want to pass it on to my sons and see what results your will achieves. Ah, I’m not a king anymore, so can I speak informally?'
Thinking thoughts that would be a capital offense if anyone heard them, Hanlate fell into a deep sleep.
Ondalan and Arnat carefully slipped out of the prison.
"What do you think?"
At Ondalan’s words, Arnat slowly shook his head.
"I feel sorry for the Prince. But in the end, this is a case of a member of the royal family failing to fulfill his duty. Because of that, our father is trapped in that cold prison."
"That is true."
Arnat looked at Ondalan. Arnat’s voice was sharp, having sensed an unwelcome feeling in his answer.
"What is it, brother? Don't tell me... you're sympathizing with the Prince?"
"He may be a Prince, but he is still a child. Arnat. Prince Akasa was only 11 years old."
"I feel sorry for him, but I won't take his side. You may have been close to the Prince, brother, but I have no connection to him whatsoever. To me, he is just someone who got my father imprisoned and abandoned his royal duty."
"Arnat. You..."
"We are a family that has fulfilled our duty for thousands of years. Brother. Honestly speaking, I feel a sense of betrayal, though I apologize to the late King."
Ondalan was startled and looked around. Fortunately, there was no one passing by.
"Even if the guards were bribed in the prison, please be careful when you speak outside. It’s not as if the crime of irreverence doesn't apply to us."
"Wait."
Just then, Arnat suddenly raised his hand to block their path. Ondalan, who looked in the direction Arnat was glaring at with a puzzled expression, could see what had made Arnat frown.
A group of people dressed in priestly robes were approaching on camels.
"The Sun Priestess group."
Arnat muttered in a voice filled with emotion. Of course, that emotion was directed entirely at High Priest Hamses, who was desperate to devour their father, but the party that appeared before them did not look favorable either.
The person who appeared to be the representative of the priests dismounted, bowed, and opened his mouth.
"I greet the members of the Gravekeeper family."
Ondalan stepped forward a step ahead of Arnat to receive the greeting.
"I greet the members of the Sun Priestess group. What brings you to find us? I have rarely seen you riding camels like this."
"His Majesty has issued an order to bring you two."
"His Majesty?"
When Ondalan asked back with slightly surprised eyes, the priest said,
"Yes. We were only told by High Priest Hamses to deliver this, so we do not know the details. But he commanded that you proceed to the palace immediately without delay."
Arnat and Ondalan’s gazes crossed.
"Understood. We will go right away."
It was an answer that required no thought.