Kemrin continued to ponder these questions all throughout the festivities. In addition to Joe’s drunken song, other songs filled the air. The new Umbran anthem, “The Gold Phoenix Rises”, sent chills and thrills throughout the halls. Then other songs from the rest of the northern kingdoms rang through the halls. From Valai, tales of their first king and founder of House Rosa, Louis the Brave, who drove out the elf hordes from the valleys. The Aemarrans sang about Mildred the Water Mage, who made peace with the mermaids and took one as her husband. Varlandians recited stories of Graman the Smith, who discovered the finest iron in the land and forged the mightiest steel. The Storuukans sang about Marlon the Hunter, who defeated three hundred giants with ten thousand archers. Throughout the night, Kemrin was hearing legends that sounded too great to believe, and it put a smile on his face.
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Meanwhile in Chrysos, Gyran Sylva rushed to the port of the city, clad in purple and gold armor and carrying a satchel full of provisions. On his way to the water, Gyran cursed under his breath while evading the watchful eyes of the city guards.
“Father may be Emperor, but he is underestimating the threat the Magnuses and their dragons pose. If we do not destroy them, they will become hungry for conquest and destroy us. Failure on this mission is not an option. I will only get one shot and I must hit my mark,” Gyran muttered to himself as he moved through the shadows like a wraith.
Eventually, Gyran reached the edge of the port, looking out into the bay. Removing his gauntlet and drawing his dagger, Gyran sliced him palm and allowed his blood to drip into the water. As he was doing this, Gyran called upon his Druid magic with the power of his will. He could feel another consciousness creep into his mind as he channeled his energy towards the waves.
Then massive bubbles boiled on the bay’s surface as a colossal shape slowly emerged. Gyran looked up at the towering abomination, smiled, and gloated, “Time for me to bring my iron wrath to the north!”
CHAPTER 9
Kemrin and his brothers stood at a Temple altar, dressed in their finest clothes. Next to them was Sage Wil, who was holding a leather-bound tome in his hands. In front of them were hundreds of guests from all across the northern kingdoms, waiting with anticipation for the wedding to start. In all corners of the Temple were towering statues that represented the five Elemental Gods who ruled over all of creation, their visages enhanced by the light of many candles. A choir of children sang a rapturous hymn that echoed throughout the Temple.
The Temple they were in was not just any building. It was a structure that was built three leagues from Foxden Castle, where Kemrin’s father defeated King Robar and his army. When the battle was over, Numen collected all the bones of the fallen soldiers, buried them, and built a grand Temple on top of the bones. It was the largest Temple in all of Umbran meant to immortalize the Battle of Foxden. Whenever Kemrin stood in the Temple, he felt in awe of not the gods but the greatness of his father’s accomplishments.
How am I supposed to match up to the mighty Numen the Monster Slayer? Kemrin thought to himself.
As the choir changed its pitch, everyone in the Temple turned their gaze to the back and saw the four Magnus brides being walked down the aisle by members of their families. Lyra was being escorted by her father King Leroy, Yarma was being escorted by her brother Thanon, Freya was escorted by her brother Marek, and Mya was escorted by her little brother Ronald. All four brides were dressed in white dresses that glittered in the candlelight, giving them the aura of spirits of light.
After they reached the other end of the Temple, the brides went to their respective grooms and the ceremony began. As the brides and grooms stood in front of Wil hand-in-hand, Wil opened his tome and recited gospels of the Elemental Gods. Throughout the ceremony, tales both great and small were retold. They were tales of both creation and destruction, sin and damnation, and redemption and salvation. Normally, Kemrin was not a pious individual, but he found the stories of the gods fascinating.
As the ceremony came to a close, Wil closed his tome and announced, “By the power vested in me and in the name of the gods, I now pronounce you husbands and wives.”
To complete the ceremony, the brides and grooms turned to one another and kissed and the guests cheered. For Numen and Lyra, it was an awkward moment. They kissed briefly out of formality, but not for love.
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Later that day, Kemrin sat on top of his horse, Domino, clad in black plate armor with gold trimming. Domino was a powerful black stallion with amber eyes and draped in dark silk. In Kemrin’s left hand was a shield bearing the Magnus sigil and in his right was a black lance tipped with a gilded fist. Kemrin’s armor was so heavy that he felt like his weight had increased considerably, a sense of claustrophobia coated his mind, and it was slightly hard to breathe through his helm. Even so, Kemrin felt completely safe inside his armor as he listened to his own breath echoing inside his helmet.
Through the slit in his visor, Kemrin could see a colossal stadium with an oaken tilt barrier dividing it. Watching from the stands were hundreds of spectators, nobles and commoners alike. In the main stand were the northern royal families surrounded by guards. Above the stadium, the Magnus dragons were flying like tremendous birds of prey.
In front of Kemrin was his first challenger in the joust, Sir Gilbert the Eunuch. Sir Gilbert wore plain plate armor, his surcoat bore a white duck on a green field, and his horse was a sleek brown mare. Kemrin had heard many things about the knight who called himself the Eunuch. Based on what Kemrin had heard, Gilbert was not of noble birth yet was an ace with a lance. The origin of Gilbert’s nickname was quite disturbing. Apparently, Gilbert had visited a brothel, refused to pay the wench he slept with, and was gelded by her as punishment.
Is Father trying to insult me? My first opponent is a peasant with no balls! This is a waste of my time! I will knock him off of his horse and strip him of his belongings! Kemrin thought to himself, grinning behind his helm.
When the horn blew for the joust, Kemrin struck Domino with both spurs and charged down the tilt. In front of him, Kemrin could see Gilbert galloping towards him with his lance pointed straight. Domino was bigger and sturdier than Gilbert’s horse. Due to this, Kemrin hoped he would generate enough force to knock Gilbert off of his steed.
Then the two lances collided with the power of a giant’s fist, exploding in a burst of splinters. The impact nearly pushed the wind out of Kemrin’s lungs and jarred his joints. Kemrin caught a brief glimpse of what had happened. Gilbert struck Kemrin’s shield, throwing Kemrin’s lance off course and missing his mark.
The castrated peasant managed to strike me! Me! A Prince of Umbran! To make matters worse, I missed! He is ahead of me by one point! Kemrin thought as he growled with frustration.
Kemrin steered Domino around to face the Eunuch, who was erupting in booming laughter that echoed through his helmet. After Kemrin’s squire gave him a new lance, Kemrin gripped the lance tightly as he prepared to clash with Gilbert again.
Grinding his teeth, Kemrin cursed, “I will knock you down so hard you will never laugh again!”
The horn for the joust blew once again and Kemrin charged forward again with his lance pointed ahead. With each step Domino took, Kemrin could feel his frustration and anger growing to boiling point and his grip on his lance became so hard that his fingers started to hurt. As he closed in on his foe, Kemrin released a bellow of rage and shoved his lance forward with all of his strength.
Kemrin’s blow struck Gilbert directly in the breastplate, knocking him off of his horse. Gilbert landed on top of his head and lay flat on his back. Roaring with triumph, Kemrin raised his broken lance above his head. However, Kemrin did not hear the cheers he was expecting. Instead of all the spectators cheering for him, the majority were creating screams of horror. Turning around, Kemrin saw that Gilbert did not rise again. The knight who called himself the Eunuch was still on his back, but his head was positioned in an awkward angle. Upon seeing the state of his op
ponent, Kemrin could guess what had happened and the realization chilled him to the bone.
Gilbert’s gorget must not have been properly fastened and he broke his neck! By the gods, I killed a man! Kemrin thought, appalled.
As the physicians checked Gilbert, Kemrin threw down his weapons, tore off his helm, and vomited over his horse’s shoulder. Kemrin was accustomed to killing enemies while riding his dragon, but Razos did all of the killing for Kemrin. This was the first time Kemrin killed someone himself and it was an unsettling feeling that made Kemrin dizzy. Kemrin’s nausea was so strong that he felt the world spinning around him. He felt his head float away as he fell off of Domino’s back.
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In another section of the stadium, Daegar stood amongst a group of armored knights and men-at-arms. Daegar gripped his mace and shield with eager anticipation as he waited for the signal that would start the melee. It was a brutal game that Daegar knew all too well. A group of combatants would fight one another until only one was left standing. Due to the fact that it was the first day of the tournament, Daegar chuckled giddily of playing this game for the rest of the week.
I trained mercilessly for this moment! Let the weaklings and vermin feel my wrath! Daegar thought to himself as he psyched himself up.
When the horn blew, the grueling contest of the melee began. Daegar released a roar of rage as he ran at the nearest opponent, instantly striking him down with his mace. Once his first foe was down, Daegar slammed his shield against another warrior before striking him in the gut with his mace. The intensity of the brawl was such that the ground became increasingly muddy, causing multiple fighters to trip over one another before grappling each other.
Adrenaline surging through his veins, Daegar thought, This is what I’m talking about! The blood! The rush of battle! The satisfaction of winning! This is what I live for!
Daegar tackled two knights and threw them against the grimy ground before bodyslamming them. Standing back up, Daegar resumed his onslaught, blindly attacking anyone he came across, laughing the entire time. Every now and then, Daegar felt one of his adversaries strike him, but it did little to slow his progress. He was no longer fighting like a disciplined warrior, but like a mad berserker.
I’ll be sure to include some of their armor and weapons in the trophy room! Daegar thought to himself as he plowed through foe after foe.
After what seemed like a blissful eternity, the melee was over and Daegar found himself alone on the field. He panted heavily and his veins were filled with so much adrenaline that they felt like they were about to burst.
Throwing his weapons and helm to the ground, Daegar loudly complained, “Is that all? Is there no one else who can satisfy me? Come on! Give me another challenge!” Pointing to a random guard, Daegar shouted, “You!”
Surprised, the guard asked, “Me, my prince?”
“Aye! Come and fight me!” Daegar ordered, ripping off his gauntlets and storming towards the frightened guard.
Before Daegar could get close to the guard, a voice commanded, “Enough, Daegar! You won!”
Daegar looked to the source of the voice and saw his father glaring at him in disapproval from the main stand. Upon seeing Numen’s unhappiness, Daegar relented before allowing himself to fall to the ground in exhaustion.
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In another section of the arena, Vaeron stood in a row with other archers. They were each presented with a target that took the form of a circle made of straw with a red spot in the middle. Throughout the afternoon, Vaeron and his fellow contestants fired arrows at their targets with frightening speed and precision.
The competition is fiercer than I expected. I am making good shots, but I am clearly not the best. How am I supposed to impress Father if I can’t win against such formidable company? Vaeron thought to himself as he drew another arrow from his quiver.
Vaeron took a quick look at his opponents and spotted Sir Tristan Ballows and his son Ervin. Tristan was one of Numen’s companions when he took over Umbran, earning lands and a knighthood in the process. Tristan married another of Numen’s companions, Lucille. Their son Ervin possessed his father’s appearance, but had his mother’s sandy blonde hair. So far, Tristan and Ervin were in first and second place respectively in the archery contest. Their superior skill with their bows made Vaeron flustered.
Returning his attention to his target, Vaeron drew his bow and thought, I will do something big enough to impress my family even if it kills me!
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In the final section of the arena, Caelum was riding his silver mare, Winter, in multiple circles alongside dozens of other riders. The adrenaline in Caelum’s veins was neither intoxicating nor mild. Instead it was enough for him to enjoy the ride and keep his mind focused. All around him, Caelum could see his fellow riders striking their mounts with their spurs in an attempt to overtake him.
As he tightly gripped Winter’s reins, Caelum thought, I love Winter as a loyal horse, but she is nothing compared to my dragon Rhea. Riding a horse is all well and good, but it is nothing when it comes to flying amongst the clouds.
The thought of riding his dragon filled Caelum with a sense of bliss. Not only was it wonderful to ride such a magnificent beast through the heavens, but it was even more wondrous to share a deep, emotional bond with a creature that was as old as the world itself. Through this bond, Caelum and Rhea knew one another better than they knew themselves, which gave their relationship more synergy.
After glancing the riders on either side of him, Caelum muttered, “If I was another run-of-the-mill weakling, they could easily overtake me, but I have spent my life riding both horse and dragon. Compared to that, riding only a horse is nothing!”
With the finish line approaching fast, Caelum rode harder than before. Winter displayed signs of exhaustion, with foam dripping from her mouth and her tongue flapping in the wind. In moments, the race was over as Caelum and Winter crossed the finish line. The crowd roared as the Prince of Umbran emerged victorious. However, as Caelum halted Winter, he knew this was only the first round of the horse racing competition. Caelum’s heart broke when he realized that Winter would have to be pushed this hard for six more days.
Gently patting the panting horse on the side of the neck, Caelum cooed, “You did good, Winter. Get lots of rest tonight. Tomorrow, we will beat them again.”
CHAPTER 10
That evening, Kemrin stood alone in the trophy room, staring at the armor and weapons of the late Gilbert the Eunuch. He did not know why he was looking at the belongings of a man he had killed, but it filled him with a dark sense of accomplishment as well as shame.
Was this how my father felt when he defeated King Robar? Kemrin thought chillingly.
Then a familiar voice asked, “Why are you so sad, my son?”
Kemrin turned and saw Numen standing in the trophy room’s doorway with a stern expression on his face. Numen’s Ferruman crown glittered white in the candle light while his red eyes glittered like embers.
“You killed men with your dragon during the uprisings, so why would you be sad about killing some whelp in a jousting accident?” Numen asked coldly.
At first, Kemrin did not know how to answer his father’s question. After he collected his thoughts, Kemrin answered, “During the uprisings, it was Razos who was doing the killing. When I killed the Eunuch with my own hand, it did not feel the same. Is this how you felt when you killed King Robar and the Graega?”
His crimson eyes like daggers, Numen explained, “You want to know how I felt? I liked it! I trained to fight my whole life under your grandfather Viktor’s tutelage. During hunts, I killed beasts with my own hands since I was eight! When I killed Robar and the Graega, I just imagined them as animals I was gutting after a good hunt. They were both monsters and I treated them as such. A little word of advice, in combat, do not think of your opponents as humans. Think of them as animals you hunt. Kill or be killed. What happened to Sir Gilbert may have been an accident, but you still slew him i
n single combat. There will be many more men you will have to kill when you become king. Besides, Razos may have been doing the killing during the uprisings, but it was you gave him the order. That makes you just as guilty as your dragon.”
Kemrin processed his father’s counsel but found it hard to swallow. Numen’s words were cynical yet had a sickening logic to them. After much thought, Kemrin asked, “Are you saying that everyone else is a sheep and I will have to become a wolf to rule them?”
Smirking, Numen nodded in approval and replied, “Aye. The sheep never rebel against the wolf. If they do, the wolf feeds on them to put them back in their place. All of our vassals in Umbran are sheep and as their sovereigns, we are wolves. Every one of the other royal families are packs of wolves, and their vassals are their own collections of sheep. Wolves do only two things with one another, they can join forces to create a larger pack or they can kill one another. That is why we need these marriage alliances with the northern kingdoms in order to create a larger wolf pack to rule a larger collection of sheep. Do you understand?”
Sighing, Kemrin murmured, “I understand, Father. I will do what I can to be the heir you want me to be.”
Displaying a pleasant smile, Numen said, “Excellent! Now let’s hurry to the great hall! The first reception feast is about to begin!”
Licking his lips, Kemrin commented, “I did hear that there will be over seventy courses with all of the delicacies the northern kingdoms have to offer. I can’t wait!”
The War of the Gilded Beasts Page 7
