The photo is the King's crown, but add other Celtic symbols all the way around.

The following morning, the Celtic royal dispatch was spotted making their way towards Araluen Castle. Everyone gathered together in the courtyard, in their formal attire, and prepared to greet them.

The closer they got, the more nervous Will felt. He wore his usual clothes, both he and Gilan deciding that functionality would be more important than formality, considering how strange this visit was. He and Gilan stood abreast next to Horace and Cassandra, who were both decked out in their royal finery. Several battalions of soldiers, many of the servants, and other nobles had gathered in the courtyard as well, packing the space full to the brim with bodies to welcome the King.

Alyss stood as head of the Diplomatic Service in place of Lady Pauline, who, along with Halt, was still not there yet. They had both been on what Halt called a 'vacation', but Will and Gilan called it a belated honeymoon. They knew Halt didn't take vacations, not really. But for Pauline, who felt that after his retirement they should celebrate by spending some quality time together, far away from his responsibilities as a Ranger, he couldn't say no. After being gone for a month, they had been called back early because of the arsons. Will was anxious to see him again, a lot had happened since he had been away.

But Will's anxiety was exacerbated further by the odd requests of the Celtic King. He did not know what he wanted, or why he was really coming to Araluen. Why did he not send his information in a letter and done with it? The arrival of this foreign dignitary, along with some fifty Celtic nobles, servants, and who knows who else, put Will on edge. Anything could happen, and he was already trying to think through every possibility to stop things from going wrong.

"Hey, lighten up, it's going to be alright," Gilan whispered sidelong.

Will unclenched his hands from around the hilt of his saxe and shook them to get the blood flowing. "Sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind."

"Better loosen up for your interview with the King, he might drill you."

"Don't worry, I've got that under control." He searched the crowd again, double-checking to see if Halt and Pauline had crept in without anyone noticing.

"Halt will be here, don't worry." Gilan patted his shoulder just as the lead horses from the Celtic envoy stepped onto the lowered bridge.

As more and more men streamed into the courtyard, the King was nowhere to be found. A large covered wagon-like construction came rattling down the planks of the bridge, pulled by two horses. It was swathed in rich fabrics, all a deep blue with gold stitching. Once most of the men had stopped moving, a few servants dismounted and walked behind the fabric-covered wagon, and it sounded as though they were speaking to someone.

Is there someone inside the wagon? Will glanced over at Gilan, who raised an eyebrow in response. This was getting stranger by the minute.

The wagon rocked back and forth as the servants continued... whatever it was that they were doing. Finally, another voice was heard, saying, "I'm fine, I can manage." Then the servants scattered away as the King of Celtica came around from behind the wagon.

He wore massive blue velvet robes that trailed on the floor behind him, and he sported tufts of white hair on his temples that was red across the rest of his head. Upon further inspection, it immediately became clear why he hadn't ridden on horseback to travel. He was a tiny man, shorter than Will by several feet. He probably couldn't reach the stirrups when he mounted a horse. His robes hid what were probably some very short legs, maybe even a misshapen body, but it was impossible to tell. He was old, maybe sixty, and his face was very wrinkled and pale. His crown was a leather strap tied around his forehead, with strange symbols branded into the material that Will couldn't make out clearly from so far away.

He walked very slowly towards the steps where Cassandra and Horace waited, proudly puffing his chest out. Maybe he's trying to appear bigger. Like a peacock, or a bantam rooster. Will had to smother a laugh at the memory of Erak's ridiculous word. It was truly an excellent insult and description of the King, and he was momentarily sad he couldn't tell anyone about it.

"Your Majesty, King Carr, it's an honor to make your acquaintance," Cassandra said, stepped forward with a welcoming smile. She did not react even the slightest bit to his short stature as she knelt to make eye contact, holding out her hand to shake his.

He smiled at her kind gesture and took it. "Thank you for accommodating me, Princess, under such short notice." His voice was ragged, quiet, and high pitched. It came out as more of a broken moan, like a crow cawing, but cracking every few words. "I look forward to sharing information peacefully and resolving the arsons happening between our two countries."

Peacefully? Does he have something to do with these fires? He seems to be implying that Celtica does. Will shifted slightly behind Cassandra, unlocking his knees, still peering down at the strange King, trying to decide how he felt about him.

After greeting Horace, the King's eyes met Will's, and he croaked, "And you must be the Ranger Will, the one who witnessed one of the fires."

How did he know it was me, and not Gilan? We're dressed almost identically. Will followed Cassandra's example and knelt, bowing his head. "Your Majesty, it's a pleasure to meet you. I wonder, how did you know it was me, and not Gilan here?" he asked, gesturing between them.

The old King's eyes seemed to burn into Will's, not in a threatening manner, but Will had to fight to keep eye contact with him. "You have that look about you, Ranger. You've seen many things, I can tell, much more than your colleague." It was like there were little flames burning in his pupils, burning into Will's head. "No one escapes a fire of Esus without being marked by it." A fire of whom? Will had no time to wonder, though. The King seized his right hand, turning it palm up. He pulled Will's finger tab off, the pad on his fingers and hand used for shooting, revealing the scar from where he had burned his hand on the door handle at the inn all those nights ago. The King pressed his thumb into the scar until Will winced slightly. He quickly pulled his hand out of the King's grip, sliding the tab back into place. Will would swear later that he could shut his eyes and still see the imprint of that old King's eyes burned into the insides of his eyelids.

His low voice, rattling like he was dying, came again. "You saw someone in the fire, did you not?"

Will, still recovering from the King's stunt with the scar, did not answer, he only stared him down. Is he crazy? He must be some sort of fortune-teller or psychic, because he somehow knew who I was without ever meeting or seeing me before. And how did he know about my scar?

Seeing that Will was uncomfortable, Cassandra tried to step in and help. "King Carr, perhaps we should gather in the Great Hall to continue - " She tried to diplomatically end the stare down and get them out of the public eye, but the King waved his hand to stop her, still focused entirely on Will. Most of the servants and guards were dispersing from the courtyard now. People bustled by, at a safe enough distance to not bother them, but they were drawing a lot of stares and strange looks that Cassandra, and Will, would have liked to avoid.

Will's eyes narrowed as he turned back to the King. If he's a psychic, being broad and not lying is probably my best course of action. "I don't know what I saw, Your Majesty."

The King nodded, as if his thoughts had been confirmed. "You will soon enough. Come," he gestured to Will, pointing to the doors to the Hall. "We must discuss."

As everyone else moved to follow them, he stopped them with another wave of his hand. "No one else, just him."

Will's eyes widened. "Your Majesty, are you sure? There are others who need to hear what you have to say - "

"I am sure. Follow me."

Will's eyes landed on Cassandra who looked properly rejected but was hiding it well, Horace who looked nonplussed but satisfied that he didn't end up having to do much, and then Gilan, who gave him a shrug and an encouraging smile, so Will turned and followed obediently.

As the King lead the way toward the doors, suddenly a loud shout was heard from the small gathering of Celtic nobles that had been dismounting and collecting their things only a few meters away. Suddenly, a man cut through the crowd, sprinting across the stones of the courtyard with a long sword in hand, screaming a battle cry. The man was on him in seconds, and Will only just barely got his two knives crossed together over his head to block the downward cut threatening to decapitate him on impact. The blades clashed together with a noisy ringing sound, and anyone who hadn't noticed the commotion whirled around, seeing Will shove the man away from him with a strong push from his crossed knives. He slid back on the heel of his boots on the worn stones underfoot and struggled to regain his balance.

As the man gathered himself, preparing to charge at Will again, he quickly resheathed his knives and whipped out his bow, notching and drawing an arrow in one movement. "Don't do it," he called calmly to the other man, who had slowed his charge. "My arrow can pierce your armor faster than anything you can do with a sword. You are outnumbered here. Stand down."

Horace's sword was drawn as he stepped down the stairs, positioning himself behind the man, so that he was boxed in from two sides, his free hand spread wide in a placating gesture. "Sir, you have drawn a blade and threatened a member of the Araluen Rangers in the presence of the Princess Regent. Lower your sword, or you will be arrested."

The man's sword dipped as he realized his predicament, his grip faltering. His eyes were small and beady, flitting back and forth between the two armed men now sandwiching him. He cried out, "I will not let you go with him! You will not be alone with the King, you are not trusted!" He was fixed on the gleaming tip of Will's arrow, still pulled back at full draw, milliseconds away from punching into his chest. Horace advanced from behind, finally stopping as the tip of his own sword touched the man's back.

"Athol! Put your sword away, you fool! Do you want to get killed today?" King Carr stepped in front of Will, his hands outstretched towards the man. In a moment of strange humor, Will noticed that the King was so short that if he fired an arrow straight ahead, without adjusting for elevation or wind, just a flat straight shot, it would sail cleanly over his head.

Athol's sword dropped to his side and dropped his glare to the King advancing on him. Will lowered his bow immediately, but did not put away his arrow. He watched as the King walked straight up to the man and had a soft, but furious conversation with him. Will couldn't hear exactly what was said, but Athol finally put his sword away and stepped back from everyone, his hands raised in surrender. But his eyes still glared at Will. "If you hurt him, I will kill you," he hissed.

Gilan finally intervened. "Sir, if I were you, I'd be very careful when uttering a death threat to a Ranger, especially Will, here." Gilan sauntered up to him, his dangerous words contrasting with his easy-going tone. "I don't know how much you know about Rangers, but we aren't the sort that enjoys being threatened with death. As you can see, we are well armed and we know how to use them. You are not a threat to us so much as we are a threat to you," he said as he stroked the tip of his own bow lightly. He managed to be relaxed and menacing at the same time, something that visibly threw the other man off-balance.

But somehow, Athol maintained his bravado. "I don't care who you are, or what you do. Just don't hurt him or you'll pay for it with your life."

Will had had enough. "I'm not going to hurt your King, but after threatening me and my Commandant like that, I can't make any promises about what I'll do to you."

"Athol! Enough." They were the first words the King had spoken all day that were loud enough to be heard across the courtyard. It was quite comical, the tiny man telling off the big man with the sword. "Go settle into your room, and don't bother anyone else. I will speak to you about this later." He snatched the sword off Athol's belt and handed it to a nearby Celtic guardsman for safekeeping. Athol turned and stormed off, being escorted by some extra guardsmen that Horace sent after him. He and Will exchanged glances, and he mouthed, So he doesn't come after you later.

Will nodded his thanks, and faced the King. "Your Majesty, are you still certain you want to have a private discussion?" Will asked, giving him one last chance to invite Cassandra or Horace, at the very least. It was almost rude of the King to exclude everyone but him, no matter how dire the circumstances were.

The King, however, did not accept the olive branch. His eyes burned into Will's once again. "I trust you not to hurt me, Ranger Will. We will converse alone."

The King turned away and entered the Great Hall, not waiting for Will to follow him. Will raised his eyebrows at everyone watching over his shoulder, giving apologetic looks. "The King and I will join you when we've finished," he said, putting up the pretense of a 'secret' discussion. He nodded slightly to Cassandra, Horace, and Gilan, and they knew what he meant. I'll tell you exactly what he says. This meeting won't stay secret for long.

As he turned to follow the King, his eyes met Alyss's in the back of the group. He mouthed, see you soon.

She only smiled, and gestured for him to get going.

Then Will finally disappeared into the Hall, alone with the King of Celtica. 

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A/N The king is a 'little person', or a dwarf, whatever you call them. I imagine him as a tiny walking blueberry with a train. Get ready for the real mystery to unfold, things are about to get spooky. Halt is coming in two chapters, so hold on to your horses and be patient with me! Leave me a comment if you're enjoying this story so far, I need some motivation to keep grinding out more words for this story. 

7/21/2020 Edit: name mistake, his name is corrected to Athol.