All the King's Men Read Online Free

began to slowly ebb. He’d risen before the sun had come up. The king
had scheduled an endless array of meetings with the Royal Council, followed by
more meetings with various leaders of alien planets, all of which had to be
carefully monitored at all times.
    By far the most tense encounter had taken place between the
king and the ruler of Aris’ closest neighbor Zuuvi, a relatively small planet
inhabited by the most war-like species Kirel had ever faced. Their leader, a
vicious blue-skinned alien named Dissu, had escalated his demands and insisted
that Aris come to the planet’s aid as it struggled to fight in the
intergalactic war it had started over a decade earlier.
    Unlike its neighbors, Aris didn’t build advanced weapons,
which left them without the means—or the inclination—to involve themselves in
such a battle. Nevertheless, Dissu insisted that King Shivar send as many of
his men as possible to fill the front battle lines.
    Kirel hadn’t put it past the creepy little alien to make an
attempt on the king’s life, so he and the other Guardians had been even more
vigilant than usual. None of them had left their posts at Shivar’s side for
more than a few seconds, and even then, remaining Guardians would close in
around Shivar, ready to protect him with their lives if it came to that.
    A couple of times it almost had.
    Glad to put the day behind him, Kirel stripped out of his
skin-tight skella and changed into a light pair of beige linen pants and
a loose brown tunic. Although Nelina’s scent had washed off them long ago, the
old garments brought him a touch of comfort in the late hours of the night. For
a short while they allowed him to wrap himself in old memories and try to
forget it was his fault that the only woman he’d ever love was dead.
    He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled.
Restlessness jolted his belly and snaked up his spine. His instincts kicked in,
warning him that something was wrong.
    Kirel shook his head to clear it. He tried to convince
himself that his agitation came from the series of ever-escalating threats from
the rest of the known universe toward a planet that could barely defend itself.
For years the Royal Council had tried to convince King Shivar to at least
consider building defensive weaponry.
    His answer was always the same. “The Tradition rules Aris.
The Tradition will protect us.” Kirel spat out the words he’d heard a million
times. The Tradition was a giant pain in the ass.
    If it cared about Aris, it would have chosen a new mate for
Shivar a long time ago. And it wouldn’t demand such heavy sacrifices from the
people it should be protecting.
    Annoyed by the direction his thoughts had taken, Kirel paced
the length of his room. He wanted to think about Nelina and lose himself in
dreams of her soft curves, her strong limbs, her sweet cunt.
    Instead, he found himself restlessly traversing his chamber
from one wall to the other. Like every other space in the castle, it was richly
decorated with colorful tapestries, plush carpets and gleaming mahogany tables.
Even his bed was gigantic. It sat against the far wall and overshadowed every
other piece of furniture. With its deep blue velvet canopies and fluted
columns, it looked as ridiculously overdone as all the other ornate decorations
that surrounded him at all hours of the day and night.
    And like everything else, the vast expanse of the luxurious
plush mattress only served to remind him of his solitude and his captivity.
    Guardians were chosen even before birth, based on their
lineage. Only the first-born sons of the king’s councilmen—his most loyal
servants—could be honored with the position of Guardian. A legend had been
passed down through generations and over time had become a favorite bedtime
story of every Arisian child. The legend told the tale of a farmer named
Gwyntham. He was a simple man who cared greatly for his wife, his three
children and his crops. One day, the first king of Aris, King