Mal had no doubt he would have been lunging towards the Chairman if it weren’t for the guards who’d finally caught up to him. Two were on each of his arms, holding him back, while another guard panted his apologies.
“Sir, he was so quick. Before we knew it he was through the outer doors—”
Mal nodded coolly. “To get through the outer doors is a serious breach, but you and your men made up for your previous error. He’s not going anywhere now, is he?” He stared into the blue eyes of his would-be assassin.
The young man stared back, full of fury.
“Relieve him of his weapon,” Mal commanded, and a guard wrenched the knife from his fist. “Now, all of you may leave, for I’d like to have a few words with our guest in private.”
“But, but . . . sir, he, he—” the head of the guard stammered.
“Is now unarmed, and knows full well that all of you will be standing outside the doors, your long knives and swords readied. Isn’t that correct?”
The young man grunted in response.
Mal waved for the guard to leave, and reluctantly they filed out.
Only once the door shut behind them did Mal speak again, quietly. “Been wondering when I might see you, Sonoforen. Figured your gold may have run out by now, and with your mother dying last season, it was just a matter of time. Interesting attempt to disguise yourself, but I must point out, it was unnecessary. You don’t look anything like him and no one would think a moment about you. Disappointing. I had hoped you would have a little more forethought than your father. Poor attempt at an execution.”
“Well, you would know all about executions, wouldn’t you, Chairman?” the young man seethed.
“Ah,” Mal said easily. “So that’s what you believe, is it? What are you calling yourself these days, anyway?”
“Batalk,” he answered shortly. “My mother’s maiden name.”
“That’s still too obvious, Sonoforen Batalk,” Mal sneered. “And that was always your mother’s name. Oren never married her.”
“He planned to!”
Mal shook his head slowly. “Doesn’t matter what he planned to do. You’re not a legal heir to his throne, even though you’re the oldest son. Neither you nor your younger brother. Where’s Dormin, anyway? Covered in vines and waiting at the grand entrance pretending he’s a tree?”
“Don’t know, don’t care.” Sonoforen clenched his fists.
Mal smiled halfway. “Ah, the bonds of brotherhood. Did he bind you first, or did you bind him?”
“I’m here to take back my throne!”
“You may have it,” Mal nodded casually. “Perhaps you noticed as you passed it on the way in, near the grand entrance? A reminder of the neglect and abuses of your ancestors. Get a few friends and haul it out of here.”
Sonoforen slammed his hands down on the desk and bellowed, “I want to be king!”
Mal nonchalantly straightened up a few piles that were disturbed by the outburst.
“I’m sure you do,” he said in a jaded tone. “Someone like you believes the world owes him something, although he’s done nothing to deserve it. Typical. So you thought killing me would let you become king? That this world which has embraced our government, rejoiced in our reforms, and sends us letters of gratitude each week would simply accept your killing me and restore you to a throne you have no right to? Hmm?” Mal shook his head slowly. “Astounding how you simply don’t realize that it’s that very lack of intelligence that destroyed your family’s claim to rule this world to begin with.”
Sonoforen breathed heavily, furiously, then, as the reality of what Mal said sank in, slower until even his shoulders sagged in defeat.
Mal sat back and evaluated him. Sonoforen had a modicum of intelligence. Not as much as his younger brother, but enough to make him a trainable mutt. “I understand your anger, boy, but I assure you—you’re fury is not with me.”
“You ordered the execution squad!”
“Is that what they told you? Oh, Sonoforen.” He sighed. “You and I both cling to a shaky existence. Our futures are only as secure as we plot them to be. Sit down, son.” He gestured to a chair near his desk.
Sonoforen considered the unexpected bone offered him. He sat down warily, never taking his eyes off the Chairman.
“Your father was betrayed not by me, his most trusted adviser,” Mal whispered, “but by someone else close to him: the High General. Sonoforen, very few men know this, but Shin was planning a violent overthrow of your father. Fortunately I heard of it. I stopped him before he not only had your father killed, but the entire mansion staff along with you, your brother, and your mother. Shin was furious after that incident at the silk shops, and was ready to begin another war over it. I spent hours reasoning with him. One of my most trusted friends, Dr. Brisack, also helped me to talk sense into the man. I argued to dispose quietly of your father in some remote village somewhere, but Shin wouldn’t hear of it. He wanted him—and all of you—dead. In the end, he agreed that your father’s death would suffice, and that he trusted only someone such as me to now lead the world. Shin gave me the list of who should be Administrators and what kinds of laws we could enact. It was the only way to prevent war, Sonoforen. Your father died nobly, son, to save the world. I’m here only to try to keep Shin from total control. Your argument is not with me, but with Relf Shin.”