chapter 25
Chapter Twenty Five
When Einar returned as the sun was going down, Alek sensed him hesitate at the opening. There was a quiet tension in the cave that could be felt as if it was a living thing, and no one spoke.
Alek heard Einar mutter, "Has it been thus the whole time I've been gone?" He heard no reply.
Alek sat with his knees drawn up and his head tipped back against the wall. Every now and then he experienced a flash of his vision, like a lamp flaring up in the darkness and then going out again. During those moments he caught glimpses of where he was, of Annaka and Nikolas. He dared to think it was a hopeful sign his vision was returning, and it helped alleviate the oppressiveness of the heavy blackness he sat in most of the time.
Einar crossed to crouch beside Alek. "How are you doing, my young friend?" he asked quietly. "What can I do for you? I have brought food and blankets. Are you hungry?"
"Thank you, no," Alek said. "There is nothing you, or anyone, can do for me. But, the moment I am able, I am going to do something for you."
"What do you mean?"
"When my sight returns, I am going to leave this place," Alek said. "It is madness for me to be near you or the Band. It is not safe nor wise for anyone who wishes to live to be near me."
"Skosh!" Einar cried. "What rot! You'll do no such foolish thing."
Alek frowned. "You saw what happened, Einar. Surely you do not think this is over between Thorvald and me! What will happen next time? I would not have you hurt, Einar. Not by me."
"For an Ostergaard, you are remarkably foolish," Einar retorted. "If you care so much for our safety, then you must realize your own safety is more important than anything. What will happen to us if you are killed? What will happen to the Earth itself?"
Alek put his head down on his knees. "It is too much. Too much." he muttered.
Einar arose and began rummaging through the packs he had brought. "What you are going to do is eat something. How long since you last did? This is no way for you to regain your strength. Then you are going to sleep. Things will look better in the morning."
Alek forced himself to eat a little cheese and bread. What choice did he have - about this or anything? Einar draped a quilt around his shoulders, and wrapping himself in it he simply lay down where he had been sitting and closed his darkened eyes. Whether or not he would be able to actually sleep was another thing.
In the morning, the first few men from the Band started to come into the area around the cave. In the meadow below, tents were set up, areas for horses created and preparations made to receive many more as the word spread. Alek heard the sounds floating up to the cave and felt his way to the mouth of the cave, waiting for his sight to flicker so he could see what the commotion was below. The Band was coming back together. He wondered if they could see him standing there. If they could, were they afraid?
He certainly didn't feel as if any unusual power was about to break loose from him at the moment. The Earth felt somehow distant, remote. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that the cave area was so rocky.
He sensed Annaka walk up beside him. She had not spoken to him since they arrived and who could blame her? He had been short with Einar and ignored the others. He was sorry, but what could he do?
"Alek, we want to help," she finally said. "You should not try to isolate yourself from those who care about you."
Alek felt an angry reply rise to his lips, but he clamped them firmly shut. He would not add being rude to a noble lady to his list of things he would reproach himself for. He thought quietly a moment.
"Actually, I have thought of something you can do to help me," he said. "If it please you, would you walk with me down off this rocky place? There is something I want to do."
Annaka glanced back at her father. Nikolas nodded. "Of course," she replied. "Just give me your arm." Alek hesitated a moment and then held out his arm for her to take.
They walked carefully down the slope, Annaka guiding their steps to grassier spots rather than slippery gravel. Alek's sight flashed twice quickly, and he saw the spot he wished to go, around the hill to the left. When they went around the base of the hill there was a thick stand of trees with a clearing just beyond.
"My lady, if you would, kindly guide me through these trees to that clearing," he said. With not too much difficulty they squeezed through, Annaka's skirts catching on branches only a couple of times.
"Here is the clearing," Annaka said.
Alek stopped, turning his face towards her. "Thank you, my lady," he said, his voice hushed. "Would you wait here a moment?"
"Of course," she said.
Alek took a few faltering steps into the clearing. His legs were still very unsteady. He felt a bush in front of him and he stepped awkwardly around it. He knelt down upon the ground, and as Annaka watched in amazement he bowed his head and began to pray. She stepped around where she could see his face.
She could not hear his words; he only whispered them, but it was clear from the look on his face that he was pleading with God. She gazed with wonder and awe at him - she had never seen anyone with such a look of intensity.
Then he did something completely unexpected. He sat back on his heels, turned his face to the sky for a moment and then lay down on the ground. He lay on his stomach with his arms and legs stretched out. Heaven and Earth! What was he doing?
He lay there several minutes, until Annaka was nearly ready to run out into the clearing to see if he was all right. Suddenly he rolled to his feet in one smooth motion and looked over at her. He smiled, and Annaka knew he could see.
Alek walked back to her, his steps firm. "Thank you, my lady," he said, brushing at the leaves and grass that clung to his clothes.
"Alek! You can see!" she cried. Her hands longed to reach out and touch him, but she stilled them by clutching handfuls of skirt.
"Yes," he replied. "I am myself again."
How very odd! Annaka's list of questions for Alek grew again. She opened her mouth, but there was something in Alek's expression that made her stop. He seemed to be healed in body, as amazing as that was, but his eyes still looked hurt, wounded.
"Alek," she finally said, looking at him in wonderment. "What did you pray for?"
"I prayed that what I was about to do would not harm you," he said. "I pray I may never do you harm."
Suddenly, Einar's voice floated down to them over the trees. "Alek! My lady!"
"Come, let us hurry," Alek said. When they reached the top of the hill, Einar was waiting for them.
"Milady, you seem to have magic of your own," he smiled broadly, when it became clear Alek could see again. "Whatever it was you did, remember it in case we may ever have need of it again."
Annaka began to protest. "I did nothing!"
Einar broke in, "Look away there, to the east," he pointed. They followed his hand and saw a large group of men moving slowly towards them, some on horseback, some on foot and a few riding in carts heavily stacked with supplies.
Alek peered at them and felt a surge of happiness at being able to see. “Who are they? Are they men from the Band?”
“Yes,” Einar replied. “And there are more. Turn this way.” Now he pointed north. Another group approached from that direction. “These men I do not recognize, however. I have asked Mikel to ride out to them and find out their intentions, but no doubt they are simply more men who wish to join us. Here Mikel is now.” A rider was dismounting at the base of the hill and began walking up.
“I called for you to return to the cave when I first saw these groups approaching and thought it a wise precaution,” Einar said, and laid a hand on Alek’s shoulder. “Now I am glad for two things - for not only is the Band coming in greater strength than it ever was, but you seem whole again.”
Alek said nothing but gave Einar a tight smile. Mikel walked up, nodding to Annaka and then turning to Einar.
“The men coming from the north do hope to join the Band,” Mikel said. “It is amazing! They have come a great distance - from all over Nordjylland.”
“Nordjylland!” Nikolas said, having joined them from the cave. “How could they have heard about the Band?”
“I do not know,” Mikel replied, “but their leader is actually from Skjagen! The news travels on wings, it seems.”
The group stood there on the lip of the hill, watching as the two groups converged on the meadow below where perhaps a hundred men already had gathered. Something drew Alek’s eye to a young man walking at the head of the Northlanders. From that distance he could not see the man well, but his senses pricked when he looked at him. Who was he? The longer Alek looked at him, the more the feeling grew that he was going to do something important.
It was as if Alek’s eyes tugged at the young man like a magnet. The young man turned, and when he lifted his face and his eyes met Alek’s, the shock and surprise were evident. They stared at each other, down the hill and across the grassy expanse.
The young man took a step towards Alek and shouted in a clear, ringing voice that carried all the way across the meadow. “Blessed Heavens! It is he! It is the king!” He pointed at Alek.
Alek stared, dumbfounded. The commotion of unpacking horses, men talking and shouting to each other, wheels creaking and the general tumult of hundreds of people suddenly died and the meadow fell oddly silent. Every eye turned and looked up to the top of the hill. The only movement was the young man, who started running towards him up the grassy slope.
No! Alek thought. This cannot be happening! Not now! Not in front of all these people! Not in front of Annaka! The men in the field stood quietly, waiting for such a shocking announcement to be either confirmed or denied.
Alek clenched his fists at his side in frustration. I am afraid, he thought. How can I do this? Yet, I cannot stand up here and deny to all these men what I know in my heart is true, however much I fear and loathe it.
The young man ran up the hill without stopping and raced to Alek’s side. Alek was so overwhelmed with shock he could only gape at him.
The young man reached down and grasped Alek’s hand, raising it high. “This be your king!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the entire valley.
“The mark has been revealed!”
Alek stared, stunned, at his own hand which he had kept carefully concealed in a glove for so long. Sometime during the time he was blind the gloves had disappeared, and strangely enough he had forgotten about trying to hide the mark.
The huge crowd erupted into cheers. Alek looked down into their faces; the faces of common folk of all kinds. He also saw many friends from the days at the woodcutter’s cottage. Why did they not question this, the most absurd thing ever spoken in Skandia? They either knew him well - and knew he was only Alek Ostergaard, the son of a peasant farmer, or they could see his commonness plainly just by looking at him.
Alek fought down a feeling of panic. Something in his heart said that what he did in the next few seconds would be very, very important, yet his mind was a mass of confusion. What should he do? How should he act? On one hand, he knew how important it was for him to instill confidence in the people he was fated to lead. On the other, he still felt the very idea of him being destined to be king of Skandia was utterly beyond belief. He cringed when he thought of Annaka standing behind him with her father and Einar. She must think him five kinds of fool.
He looked up at his hand, still held aloft by the strange young man. The mark stared back at him, a glaring reminder of what he was and could not escape.
Alek, you must acknowledge your people, came the quiet, insistent voice he had heard only a few times since that shattering day he was shot in the forest. But how do I do that? he thought frantically. He tried to speak back to the voice with his questions, but as usual there was no direct reply. He did the only thing he could think of, and sent his awareness down into the Earth beneath his feet. Perhaps the answers were there.
***
Stefan looked at the young man beside him, still holding his hand aloft. He had found him! He had found the king! He looked exactly like the picture the forvalter had planted in his mind, but even without that there was no mistaking it. His heart burned within, confirming the truth of it. This was the man he was fated to pay honor and fealty to and to prepare the way for, although he still did not understand that task. He supposed he was doing part of it now. It had felt so very odd when he first saw Alek standing there on the cusp of the hill. The instructions had flowed into his mind with urgency and plainness. Alek had almost seemed to glow, as though the forvalter had put a mark upon him only Stefan could see, to make very sure he made no mistake. This was to be the beginning: the first time he would herald the king to his people.
Stefan saw the look of consternation on the face of the young king and he recalled the words of the forvalter. He is powerful, very powerful, although he does not know it, not yet. Suddenly Stefan realized that the young man whose hand he held aloft not only did not realize his power but scarcely knew of his true identity.
Then something new and strange began to happen - the first, but not the last time Stefan would witness it. Through Alek’s hand he felt a surge of something flow into him, something that could perhaps be described as a flush of heat. He saw then that Alek was actually glowing - this time in a way everyone could see, not just Stefan. Stefan dropped his hand and took a step back, staring.
Alek stood very still, his eyes looking upward and his arms held slightly out from his body. The light that radiated from him was soft but unmistakably marked him out from the others standing with him. Although his clothes were white he himself was whiter, with a brightness leaking out from the neck and sleeve openings of his shirt.
Stefan heard rustling sounds from the floor of the meadow, which up until now had been completely quiet. Looking away from Alek and down he saw the men beginning to kneel, in a rippling wave that swept across the crowd. Stefan marveled. The burning man had said he would herald the king - he would tell the people who he was, and he supposed he had done that, but Alek was doing something more, whether he intended to or not. Stefan turned himself toward Alek and knelt upon the stony ground.
Stefan looked up at Alek and watched the glow around him slowly fade. Then Alek seemed to come back into himself, and his pale blue eyes widened as he saw the people kneeling before him.
Alek turned to Stefan and spoke quietly. “Sir, whoever you may be, you seem to have a gift - a gift that your voice may be heard by this great crowd. Tell these people, then, I do not wish them to kneel before me. Rather, tell them to kneel before God, and pray for me.”
Stefan was filled with amazement. As he had traveled the length of the land he had wondered many times what the king would be like when he found him at last. Alek’s physical appearance might exactly resemble the image in his mind, but Stefan had anticipated something different - someone perhaps more self-assured, or even arrogant, filled with power and authority. He had not realized that the man he was destined to proclaim king was someone decidedly uncomfortable with the role. He had known from Alek’s image that he dressed plainly, even commonly, but he had not known the man was a commoner in fact, not just in dress.
Then Stefan realized he had just been spoken to for the first time by his king -who had in fact made a request of him. He jumped to his feet and repeated Alek’s words to the crowd.
When Einar returned as the sun was going down, Alek sensed him hesitate at the opening. There was a quiet tension in the cave that could be felt as if it was a living thing, and no one spoke.
Alek heard Einar mutter, "Has it been thus the whole time I've been gone?" He heard no reply.
Alek sat with his knees drawn up and his head tipped back against the wall. Every now and then he experienced a flash of his vision, like a lamp flaring up in the darkness and then going out again. During those moments he caught glimpses of where he was, of Annaka and Nikolas. He dared to think it was a hopeful sign his vision was returning, and it helped alleviate the oppressiveness of the heavy blackness he sat in most of the time.
Einar crossed to crouch beside Alek. "How are you doing, my young friend?" he asked quietly. "What can I do for you? I have brought food and blankets. Are you hungry?"
"Thank you, no," Alek said. "There is nothing you, or anyone, can do for me. But, the moment I am able, I am going to do something for you."
"What do you mean?"
"When my sight returns, I am going to leave this place," Alek said. "It is madness for me to be near you or the Band. It is not safe nor wise for anyone who wishes to live to be near me."
"Skosh!" Einar cried. "What rot! You'll do no such foolish thing."
Alek frowned. "You saw what happened, Einar. Surely you do not think this is over between Thorvald and me! What will happen next time? I would not have you hurt, Einar. Not by me."
"For an Ostergaard, you are remarkably foolish," Einar retorted. "If you care so much for our safety, then you must realize your own safety is more important than anything. What will happen to us if you are killed? What will happen to the Earth itself?"
Alek put his head down on his knees. "It is too much. Too much." he muttered.
Einar arose and began rummaging through the packs he had brought. "What you are going to do is eat something. How long since you last did? This is no way for you to regain your strength. Then you are going to sleep. Things will look better in the morning."
Alek forced himself to eat a little cheese and bread. What choice did he have - about this or anything? Einar draped a quilt around his shoulders, and wrapping himself in it he simply lay down where he had been sitting and closed his darkened eyes. Whether or not he would be able to actually sleep was another thing.
In the morning, the first few men from the Band started to come into the area around the cave. In the meadow below, tents were set up, areas for horses created and preparations made to receive many more as the word spread. Alek heard the sounds floating up to the cave and felt his way to the mouth of the cave, waiting for his sight to flicker so he could see what the commotion was below. The Band was coming back together. He wondered if they could see him standing there. If they could, were they afraid?
He certainly didn't feel as if any unusual power was about to break loose from him at the moment. The Earth felt somehow distant, remote. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that the cave area was so rocky.
He sensed Annaka walk up beside him. She had not spoken to him since they arrived and who could blame her? He had been short with Einar and ignored the others. He was sorry, but what could he do?
"Alek, we want to help," she finally said. "You should not try to isolate yourself from those who care about you."
Alek felt an angry reply rise to his lips, but he clamped them firmly shut. He would not add being rude to a noble lady to his list of things he would reproach himself for. He thought quietly a moment.
"Actually, I have thought of something you can do to help me," he said. "If it please you, would you walk with me down off this rocky place? There is something I want to do."
Annaka glanced back at her father. Nikolas nodded. "Of course," she replied. "Just give me your arm." Alek hesitated a moment and then held out his arm for her to take.
They walked carefully down the slope, Annaka guiding their steps to grassier spots rather than slippery gravel. Alek's sight flashed twice quickly, and he saw the spot he wished to go, around the hill to the left. When they went around the base of the hill there was a thick stand of trees with a clearing just beyond.
"My lady, if you would, kindly guide me through these trees to that clearing," he said. With not too much difficulty they squeezed through, Annaka's skirts catching on branches only a couple of times.
"Here is the clearing," Annaka said.
Alek stopped, turning his face towards her. "Thank you, my lady," he said, his voice hushed. "Would you wait here a moment?"
"Of course," she said.
Alek took a few faltering steps into the clearing. His legs were still very unsteady. He felt a bush in front of him and he stepped awkwardly around it. He knelt down upon the ground, and as Annaka watched in amazement he bowed his head and began to pray. She stepped around where she could see his face.
She could not hear his words; he only whispered them, but it was clear from the look on his face that he was pleading with God. She gazed with wonder and awe at him - she had never seen anyone with such a look of intensity.
Then he did something completely unexpected. He sat back on his heels, turned his face to the sky for a moment and then lay down on the ground. He lay on his stomach with his arms and legs stretched out. Heaven and Earth! What was he doing?
He lay there several minutes, until Annaka was nearly ready to run out into the clearing to see if he was all right. Suddenly he rolled to his feet in one smooth motion and looked over at her. He smiled, and Annaka knew he could see.
Alek walked back to her, his steps firm. "Thank you, my lady," he said, brushing at the leaves and grass that clung to his clothes.
"Alek! You can see!" she cried. Her hands longed to reach out and touch him, but she stilled them by clutching handfuls of skirt.
"Yes," he replied. "I am myself again."
How very odd! Annaka's list of questions for Alek grew again. She opened her mouth, but there was something in Alek's expression that made her stop. He seemed to be healed in body, as amazing as that was, but his eyes still looked hurt, wounded.
"Alek," she finally said, looking at him in wonderment. "What did you pray for?"
"I prayed that what I was about to do would not harm you," he said. "I pray I may never do you harm."
Suddenly, Einar's voice floated down to them over the trees. "Alek! My lady!"
"Come, let us hurry," Alek said. When they reached the top of the hill, Einar was waiting for them.
"Milady, you seem to have magic of your own," he smiled broadly, when it became clear Alek could see again. "Whatever it was you did, remember it in case we may ever have need of it again."
Annaka began to protest. "I did nothing!"
Einar broke in, "Look away there, to the east," he pointed. They followed his hand and saw a large group of men moving slowly towards them, some on horseback, some on foot and a few riding in carts heavily stacked with supplies.
Alek peered at them and felt a surge of happiness at being able to see. “Who are they? Are they men from the Band?”
“Yes,” Einar replied. “And there are more. Turn this way.” Now he pointed north. Another group approached from that direction. “These men I do not recognize, however. I have asked Mikel to ride out to them and find out their intentions, but no doubt they are simply more men who wish to join us. Here Mikel is now.” A rider was dismounting at the base of the hill and began walking up.
“I called for you to return to the cave when I first saw these groups approaching and thought it a wise precaution,” Einar said, and laid a hand on Alek’s shoulder. “Now I am glad for two things - for not only is the Band coming in greater strength than it ever was, but you seem whole again.”
Alek said nothing but gave Einar a tight smile. Mikel walked up, nodding to Annaka and then turning to Einar.
“The men coming from the north do hope to join the Band,” Mikel said. “It is amazing! They have come a great distance - from all over Nordjylland.”
“Nordjylland!” Nikolas said, having joined them from the cave. “How could they have heard about the Band?”
“I do not know,” Mikel replied, “but their leader is actually from Skjagen! The news travels on wings, it seems.”
The group stood there on the lip of the hill, watching as the two groups converged on the meadow below where perhaps a hundred men already had gathered. Something drew Alek’s eye to a young man walking at the head of the Northlanders. From that distance he could not see the man well, but his senses pricked when he looked at him. Who was he? The longer Alek looked at him, the more the feeling grew that he was going to do something important.
It was as if Alek’s eyes tugged at the young man like a magnet. The young man turned, and when he lifted his face and his eyes met Alek’s, the shock and surprise were evident. They stared at each other, down the hill and across the grassy expanse.
The young man took a step towards Alek and shouted in a clear, ringing voice that carried all the way across the meadow. “Blessed Heavens! It is he! It is the king!” He pointed at Alek.
Alek stared, dumbfounded. The commotion of unpacking horses, men talking and shouting to each other, wheels creaking and the general tumult of hundreds of people suddenly died and the meadow fell oddly silent. Every eye turned and looked up to the top of the hill. The only movement was the young man, who started running towards him up the grassy slope.
No! Alek thought. This cannot be happening! Not now! Not in front of all these people! Not in front of Annaka! The men in the field stood quietly, waiting for such a shocking announcement to be either confirmed or denied.
Alek clenched his fists at his side in frustration. I am afraid, he thought. How can I do this? Yet, I cannot stand up here and deny to all these men what I know in my heart is true, however much I fear and loathe it.
The young man ran up the hill without stopping and raced to Alek’s side. Alek was so overwhelmed with shock he could only gape at him.
The young man reached down and grasped Alek’s hand, raising it high. “This be your king!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the entire valley.
“The mark has been revealed!”
Alek stared, stunned, at his own hand which he had kept carefully concealed in a glove for so long. Sometime during the time he was blind the gloves had disappeared, and strangely enough he had forgotten about trying to hide the mark.
The huge crowd erupted into cheers. Alek looked down into their faces; the faces of common folk of all kinds. He also saw many friends from the days at the woodcutter’s cottage. Why did they not question this, the most absurd thing ever spoken in Skandia? They either knew him well - and knew he was only Alek Ostergaard, the son of a peasant farmer, or they could see his commonness plainly just by looking at him.
Alek fought down a feeling of panic. Something in his heart said that what he did in the next few seconds would be very, very important, yet his mind was a mass of confusion. What should he do? How should he act? On one hand, he knew how important it was for him to instill confidence in the people he was fated to lead. On the other, he still felt the very idea of him being destined to be king of Skandia was utterly beyond belief. He cringed when he thought of Annaka standing behind him with her father and Einar. She must think him five kinds of fool.
He looked up at his hand, still held aloft by the strange young man. The mark stared back at him, a glaring reminder of what he was and could not escape.
Alek, you must acknowledge your people, came the quiet, insistent voice he had heard only a few times since that shattering day he was shot in the forest. But how do I do that? he thought frantically. He tried to speak back to the voice with his questions, but as usual there was no direct reply. He did the only thing he could think of, and sent his awareness down into the Earth beneath his feet. Perhaps the answers were there.
***
Stefan looked at the young man beside him, still holding his hand aloft. He had found him! He had found the king! He looked exactly like the picture the forvalter had planted in his mind, but even without that there was no mistaking it. His heart burned within, confirming the truth of it. This was the man he was fated to pay honor and fealty to and to prepare the way for, although he still did not understand that task. He supposed he was doing part of it now. It had felt so very odd when he first saw Alek standing there on the cusp of the hill. The instructions had flowed into his mind with urgency and plainness. Alek had almost seemed to glow, as though the forvalter had put a mark upon him only Stefan could see, to make very sure he made no mistake. This was to be the beginning: the first time he would herald the king to his people.
Stefan saw the look of consternation on the face of the young king and he recalled the words of the forvalter. He is powerful, very powerful, although he does not know it, not yet. Suddenly Stefan realized that the young man whose hand he held aloft not only did not realize his power but scarcely knew of his true identity.
Then something new and strange began to happen - the first, but not the last time Stefan would witness it. Through Alek’s hand he felt a surge of something flow into him, something that could perhaps be described as a flush of heat. He saw then that Alek was actually glowing - this time in a way everyone could see, not just Stefan. Stefan dropped his hand and took a step back, staring.
Alek stood very still, his eyes looking upward and his arms held slightly out from his body. The light that radiated from him was soft but unmistakably marked him out from the others standing with him. Although his clothes were white he himself was whiter, with a brightness leaking out from the neck and sleeve openings of his shirt.
Stefan heard rustling sounds from the floor of the meadow, which up until now had been completely quiet. Looking away from Alek and down he saw the men beginning to kneel, in a rippling wave that swept across the crowd. Stefan marveled. The burning man had said he would herald the king - he would tell the people who he was, and he supposed he had done that, but Alek was doing something more, whether he intended to or not. Stefan turned himself toward Alek and knelt upon the stony ground.
Stefan looked up at Alek and watched the glow around him slowly fade. Then Alek seemed to come back into himself, and his pale blue eyes widened as he saw the people kneeling before him.
Alek turned to Stefan and spoke quietly. “Sir, whoever you may be, you seem to have a gift - a gift that your voice may be heard by this great crowd. Tell these people, then, I do not wish them to kneel before me. Rather, tell them to kneel before God, and pray for me.”
Stefan was filled with amazement. As he had traveled the length of the land he had wondered many times what the king would be like when he found him at last. Alek’s physical appearance might exactly resemble the image in his mind, but Stefan had anticipated something different - someone perhaps more self-assured, or even arrogant, filled with power and authority. He had not realized that the man he was destined to proclaim king was someone decidedly uncomfortable with the role. He had known from Alek’s image that he dressed plainly, even commonly, but he had not known the man was a commoner in fact, not just in dress.
Then Stefan realized he had just been spoken to for the first time by his king -who had in fact made a request of him. He jumped to his feet and repeated Alek’s words to the crowd.