The Flames of Deception - A Horizon of Storms: Book 1

by AJ Martin

  “Well, here we are,” Thadius said.

  Matthias tapped the cobbles beneath his feet warily. “How do you keep this city from falling apart?” he asked.

  “You’re not the only ones who can work a little magic. But our wonders come from hard graft. As you can see.” Thadius nodded behind the wizard, and Matthias turned and looked up. An impressive sight had sprung up in front of him. The building that lay before him was highly theatrical, with ornamental turrets, triforia – shaped windows and decorative cornices running around its exterior. The Palace was the icing on the multi-tiered cake that was Rina, surrounded by greenery and smaller gatehouses attached by stone arches and walkways to its main bulk. Its limestone walls reflected the sunlight of the mid-morning sun. A crow - stepped gable completed the front of the symmetric building, with half a dozen gargoyles sitting atop their steps and two large windows beneath their protection glinted in the sunlight.

  “Impressive,” Matthias said, shielding his eyes to take in the architecture.

  Thadius chuckled. “Ah, you haven’t seen inside yet.”

  An Audience with the King

  112th Day of the Cycle, 495 N.E. (New Era)

  As they approached the palace, Thadius greeted two guards who were standing outside the towering main doors that gaped open before them. He walked into the vast entrance hall of the building and beckoned Matthias to follow. Matthias passed through and looked around at the grand hall. The floor was one giant, coloured mosaic. He cocked his head as he analysed the scene it depicted.

  “It’s the End of Days,” Thadius advised, noticing him looking at the floor.

  “It’s a little strange to show an image of the last battle in the world’s greatest war in your entrance hall,” Matthias commented. “It’s hardly a welcoming scene.”

  Thadius looked perturbed. “It was commissioned during the first few years into the rebuilding of Rina after the old city was destroyed,” he explained. “King Ostavar ordered the construction of a high scaffold to serve as the foundations for the new palace. This palace. He chose this scene,” he indicated to the floor “-because it was the moment when his father and Aralia’s allies overcame the Dreadlord Tanzanal. It’s the greatest moment in our history. I can’t think of any greater image to welcome visitors.”

  Matthias raised his hands defensively. “Point taken.” He gazed around. The walls were wood-panelled and gold-lined, the ceiling painted a navy blue with oval with gemstones inset into the plaster for stars. Sited in the curved corners of the ceiling were four angelic creatures garbed in white robes, their blue faces staring down at the tiled floor. Matthias lingered on them a moment, eyes wide.

  “They’re the Akari,” Thadius advised.

  Matthias nodded. “I know who they are.”

  Thadius followed his gaze to one of the four figures. “Sometimes I spend time staring up at them like you are now, admiring the workmanship. They’re brilliantly carved, fascinating to look at. Of all the mythical creatures I have read about, they are the most interesting to me.”

  Matthias looked at him in confusion. “Exactly what books have you been reading?”

  Thadius shrugged. “I’m not sure. My father gave a book to me on ancient myths and legends when I was younger. I don’t remember the author. Why?”

  Matthias shook his head. “No reason. Please, can we go to the king now?”

  Thadius nodded. “If you have finished critiquing our architecture?” he said acerbically.

  Thadius led Matthias into an adjoining corridor, where enclosed lanterns hung at regular intervals in the ceiling. The floor was carpeted with a deep red rug that stretched its entire length and at its end was a flight of stairs, which Matthias was led up to another corridor, this time bare of carpet and tangibly cold by comparison. They ascended again up a tight spiral staircase into another equally drab walkway.

  “This isn’t the way I’d normally take guests,” Thadius advised. “It’s not exactly the most glamorous way around the palace, but it is the quickest.”

  "Quick suits me very well," Matthias replied. “As you may have noticed.”

  Thadius nodded. “It’s probably just as well. You may have cast your artistic eye over more of our workmanship.”

  Matthias smiled. “I had no bad thing to say about the quality of the floor. I was merely curious about the subject matter. I fear I may have insulted you again Thadius.”

  The soldier turned to look at him. “I’ve got thicker skin than you might believe, Matthias Greenwald.”

  They walked along on silence for a time, until they reached a large, closed set of doors. Two guards flanked them either side, each man holding a partisan decorated with tassels of gold fabric beneath the spearheads. On seeing Thadius one of the men reached around and opened one of the doors, allowing them through. Thadius nodded thanks to them as they entered the next room.

  Red marble pillars flanked them to either side of the long chamber, holding atop their delicately carved tops a series of golden arches, etched with blue, mottled patterns stretching from one end of the room to the other. The floor depicted another tiled scene.

  “This one may be more to your liking,” Thadius quipped.

  “I don’t recognise the setting,” Matthias commented. By the looks of it, the scene seemed to tell the tale of a gathering: a large marquis dotted with fluttering flags along its top sat in the middle of the depiction, surrounded around its perimeter and the field beyond by soldiers and nobles in their best livery. “It’s beautifully complex,” Matthias complimented and knelt down to feel the tiles with a hand. “The intricacy is stunning.” As he knelt, Matthias followed his eye line to the far side of the room. At its end a throne stood centrally atop a dark varnished, wooden dais. The intricate oak chair contained detailed carvings of ivy leaves and stems flowing around the legs and climbing the back like a real plant would have. The ivy leaves themselves were covered with gold leaf, and the backrest of the throne was a deep - red, silken material. Beside it to the right, a wood carved griffin reared up on its hind legs and on the other side a phoenix sat proudly with its wings curled around its body, inspecting the two newcomers from its jet - black, beaded eyes. In each far corner, two gilded stand - lamps stood unlit. There wasn't any need for them that early in the day, especially as the ceiling above them was made entirely of glass encased in thick lead frames, covered in more gold leaf, revealing the bright azure - coloured sky, dotted with white clouds.

  “A beautiful room, isn’t it?” a voice said from the doorway behind, and Matthias rose and turned to the owner. “You can even make out the looks on the faces of the people portrayed on the floor. It almost seems a shame to walk over them with heavy, muddied boots sometimes.”

  “Your Grace,” Thadius addressed him, kneeling.

  The king strode into the room confidently, a black and silver, fur lined overcoat wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He passed them both and walked up on to the dais, where he circled the throne and stood behind it a moment, stroking one of the Ivy stems. Thadius looked up at Matthias.

  “Are you forgetting something?” he whispered.

  Matthias caught his eye and gave him a puzzled look. Then he realised what the soldier was talking about. “Oh yes, of course!” he exclaimed with a start and lowered himself to one knee. From his crouched position, head lowered slightly in deference, he looked at the king properly. The man was tall, well above the height of an average man, and his dark brown hair, that hung to neck length, was mottled with strands of grey, giving away his not insignificant years. He had pock – marked cheeks and a square - cut beard, which masked his pale, white skin. Despite his ageing appearance, he still cut a confident and regal figure as he looked down at the pair of them, wrapped within his bulky, intimidating overcoat.

  “This is the Throne of Althern. It was made for my ancestor King Thesius some three hundred years ago. It has had to be reupholstered a few times, but otherwise, it is all the original wood and in magnificent condition. Ahem, t
hat is, until I carved my own name into its back when I was five years old.” He stared down to the back of the throne and smiled as his eyes picked out the unseen carving. “But I was only young and knew no better.” He looked up again and as if properly noticing his guests for the first time, strode forwards to the edge of the dais and looked down on them. “Gentlemen,” he addressed them.

  “Your Grace,” Thadius coughed, clearing his throat. “May I present, for want of a better word, Ambassador Matthias Greenwald from the Realm of Mahalia. Matthias Greenwald, this is His Highness King Arwell, Holy Lord and Protector of the Light of Aralia.”

  “Your Grace,” Matthias replied politely.

  “Please rise mister Greenwald,” the king commanded, gesturing upwards with a hand. Matthias smiled, uttered his thanks and rose to his feet. He was a few inches shorter that the king anyway, but he felt like a dwarf looking up at the man as he stood atop the dais

  “I am grateful for your time, Your Grace.”

  The king smiled thinly. “Something tells me that I had no choice in the matter of giving a wizard my time, hmm?” He waved the comment away with a hand. “It is no matter anyway. You are fortunate enough to have caught me on a slow day. I am told you come hear bearing important news for my ears alone?”

  Matthias nodded. “The news I bring is private, Your Grace.” Then he paused and looked from the king to Thadius. “However I now believe it would be of benefit for Thadius to hear what I have to tell you as well.”

  “Oh you do, do you?” the king snorted.

  “Your Grace, please accept my apologies for this young man!” Thadius spluttered. “That is of course your decision to make!”

  “It is alright Thadius,” the king replied. “If that is the case ambassador, then why would you not tell Thadius of your reasons for visiting me before?”

  “Because I had no reason to trust him before, in the guardhouse,” Matthias replied.

  The king paced the dais slowly. “And your swift journey up to the palace has convinced you otherwise?” he asked.

  Matthias nodded. “Our climb together has shown me his honourable nature. I feel able to speak openly in your presence with him by your side.”

  “Ambassador, I have known people under my reign for decades and still have yet to judge whether they are honourable or not. You cannot know someone’s true nature in less than a morning,” the king advised.

  “You’re right,” Matthias responded. “But my gut hasn’t proven me wrong before. I see no reason to question it now.”

  The king studied Matthias a moment, and then smiled, exhaling out of his nose and chuckling under his breath. He nodded. “Very well then. But might I suggest we relocate to a more suitable place to speak. This room may be beautiful, but it grows so cold in the morning. Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Actually, now you mention it, I am a little, Your Grace,” Matthias said, smiling. As if suddenly awakened by the thought of food, his stomach rumbled. When had he last eaten? It must have been a day or two, aside from an apple he had munched on this morning.

  The king nodded. “Good. Then we will adjourn to the parlour where we can continue our conversation. Thadius will join us. You could do with some more meat on your bones soldier,” he chuckled.

  “Thank you, Your Grace. Though I think there is more than enough fat on this figure already!” Thadius smiled and patted his stomach.

  The king led them through the palace, issuing orders to servants as they passed to ready breakfast. They scattered before him to work.

  “You are quite lucky ambassador,” the king said, “I have usually eaten by now, despite the time, and would be off for a morning hunt. However today I was taken to sleeping in a little longer than usual.”

  “Fortunate for my stomach, Your Grace,” Matthias quipped.

  “You are also fortunate that I know so much about the legends surrounding that pendant of yours and that it proves validity of your identity. Had it been down to Thadius alone you would have never made it this far.”

  “I knew you would be aware of its meaning,” Matthias said, “Having held relations with my people for so long.”

  “Relations,” the king mused. “Is that what you would call it?” There was an edge to his tone. Then he continued regardless of the lack of an answer. “I know that the pendant binds to a wizard like a part of the body and to remove it from its owner for a length of time is akin to losing a heart.”

  Matthias nodded, and seeing the curious look on Thadius’s face, elaborated. “We receive our pendant when we graduate to become a full wizard. It’s irreplaceable.”

  Thadius shook his head. “It doesn’t look irreplaceable,” he commented. “It is a lovely looking piece, but it’s just metal and a jewel suspended on a chain.”

  “It’s not just a ruby. Inside the gemstone, deep within its core is a captured moment,” Matthias advised.

  “What’s that?” Thadius asked.

  “It’s a memory of the moment when we ascend to become a wizard. It’s not only precious, but irreplaceable, and no wizard would ever let it come to harm.”

  “How do you capture a moment?” Thadius asked.

  “With great difficulty,” Matthias smiled back.

  They walked around the maze of corridors, up sets of stairs and crossing through extravagantly decorated chambers, until they emerged into a room with a semi-circular bay window overlooking the plains of Rina. The expansive grasslands and fields of flowers stretched out beneath them, waving in a breeze, and sunlight shone through the window onto the dining table just behind it.

  “My quarters are above this room. I consider it to be the finest view anywhere in the world. The beautiful fields of green and the mountains, far in the distance..." He waved his hand across to emphasise his point.

  Matthias stared at it longingly. “It’s very beautiful, Your Grace,” he said.

  A trio of liveried servants entered the room and brought in three bowls of steaming soup, placing them on the table before leaving the room again. Thadius and Matthias sat opposite each other, and the king sat at the head of the table. The servants returned again and brought in a carafe of red wine. They filled three glasses. Matthias stared at his a moment.

  “Is there a problem?” Thadius asked him.

  Matthias shook his head. “No, not at all. I’m just not accustomed to drinking wine at breakfast.”

  Thadius nodded. “It is a luxury to have wine instead of ale at the dinner table.”

  Matthias smiled, and then shook his head again. “Actually, that’s not what I meant. I tend to drink tea,” he advised.

  Thadius’ face screwed up. “Tea? That’s that drink the Tekritians import from the Far World, isn’t it?”

  Matthias nodded. “Not so far for me. It comes from my homeland.”

  “I have sampled tea several times,” the king said, interjecting. “Interesting flavour, and a curiosity to have a drink boiled, but I am afraid it’s not my bag. Too spicy for my tastes,” he sniffed, and raised his glass. “To good health,” he toasted, and supped at the red liquid. Matthias and Thadius joined him and then as they tucked into their soup, they carried on with their conversation.

  “All the way from the realm of wizards,” the king said as he supped his soup. “It’s been a fair time since your people have felt the need to grace me with their presence. It used to be that your people would check in every six months, remain for a few weeks, and then return to Mahalia. But the last time I had a visit would be nearly five years ago. I thought we had been let off for good behaviour,” he scoffed.

  Matthias nodded. “I believe that there hasn’t been any need to visit you for quite a while.”

  “And now?” The king questioned.

  “Now I’m here,” Matthias replied.

  Arwell studied Matthias a while over his full soup - spoon, hovering over his bowl, then took another slurp. “I usually see another wizard. Lord Fenzar is his name. He has been coming here for decades. He’s much older than you a
re, with bushy eyebrows and a face like a dried up old fig. There’s more lines on that man’s face than on an old oak tree!”

  Matthias grinned, picturing the man in his head. “I’ve always thought he more resembled a walnut. Though I’m sure you know better Your Grace.”

  “Where is he now? He’s not dead is he? Are you his replacement? I really have known oak trees less old and gnarled than Fenzar is. It must be well past time he was put out to pasture.” The king chuckled.

  “No, he’s not dead,” Matthias said. “I suspect he’ll outlive us all.”

  Thadius joined in the conversation. “He normally comes through the gates with an attachment of dignitaries, heads straight through the main street to the palace making one hell of a din. He loves a procession.”

  Matthias nodded. “He is an… interesting man, to say the least. In any case, I’m not his replacement. But he is indisposed.”

  The king nodded. “I see. Well you may be new and lacking experience with my kingdom, but I wonder if you might explain to me the reason you snuck into the city alone through some unknown entrance, like a viper in a bird’s nest?”

  “I’ve never been one for making a fuss, Your Majesty,” Matthias rebuffed.

  “Mmmm.” The king mumbled, raising an eyebrow. He opened his mouth as if to say something further, but before he could, there was a knock at the door. A liveried man strode into the room and, head raised high, spoke loudly and formally.

  “Your Majesty. The Princess of Aralia wishes to enter, with your permission?”

  The king stood abruptly, and looked to Matthias. His brow furrowed and Matthias resisted the urge to shrink back at the burning gaze he gave him.

  “Tell her that I am busy entertaining,” the king said tersely.

  “I did, Your Grace, but she is most insistent. She wishes to meet your guest."

  The king took a deep breath and nodded. “Very well,” he said and turned to Matthias. “Ambassador, it seems you will be meeting my only daughter!”