Gauntlet of Iniquity (The Azuleah Trilogy Book 2)

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Gauntlet of Iniquity (The Azuleah Trilogy Book 2) Page 10

by Daniel Adorno


  Violet felt her face grow hot. “Okay…maybe I do like him. What of it?”

  “Violet, I do not mean to be difficult. But as someone who is used to royalty and their conniving ways, I only ask that you be careful. Silas Dermont is an honorable man, but…just be wary,” Avani said, her smile fading into a grim expression.

  Violet nodded, but said nothing.

  A sudden knock on the door startled them both. Violet shooed her friend upstairs while she walked toward the door. “Who is it?” she asked, looking up toward the loft to make sure Avani was out of sight.

  “It’s Silas,” the muffled voice on the other side stated.

  Violet’s heart leaped into her throat and she suddenly felt her hands turn clammy. She fidgeted with the doorknob before finally opening the door.

  Silas stood tall in the frame of the doorway, dressed in a white doublet with a purple silk sash across his chest to denote his position. His long blond hair was tied back with some twine, and a few hairs dangled in front of his face, but did not obstruct his eyes. Violet gazed into his eyes—blue and confident, yet warm and friendly.

  He smiled at her. “May I come in?” he said.

  “Oh right! Yes, do come in, your Highness,” she stammered.

  “You don’t need to call me that. I’m just Silas to my friends,” he said.

  “Yes, of course. Sorry. That was stupid of me,” Violet said sheepishly.

  Avani walked down the staircase to meet them, wearing her headscarf once more. It was a deep green that accentuated the matching color of her eyes and gown. “Is it time?” she asked, a tinge of nervousness in her voice.

  Silas nodded. “You will both be meeting with my father and two nobles, Lord Blaise and Lord Weifar. They will hear your testimony and judge whether or not to take action.”

  “Wait a minute, did you say Lord Weifar? Alvin Weifar?” Avani asked.

  “Yes, that’s correct,” Silas replied. “Do you know him?”

  “He visited my father two springs ago to discuss a possible trade agreement. They never came to an accord, but he’s seen my face. He’ll know who I am,” Avani said, her eyes wide.

  “That was two years past. I don’t think he’ll remember you, especially dressed in this commoner’s garb—no offense,” Silas said, putting in the last words quickly.

  Avani pursed her lips. “Yes, but you eventually recognized me, Silas. The same might happen with Weifar. I can’t meet with him. My secret must be kept safe at the moment.”

  “Avani, don’t be so paranoid. Even if he were to recognize you, what harm could possibly come from it? We are among friends here,” Violet said, tilting her head at the elf.

  “We’ve discussed this, Violet. I don’t need anyone else to know that I am here. My brothers have informants throughout the realm, and they would be more than happy to kidnap and ransom me so my father would capitulate,” she said adamantly.

  Silas cleared his throat. “What if you came along as Violet’s servant and kept your head low? It’s a common practice among servants in the presence of the king. Weifar would think nothing of it,” he said.

  “But she has to explain her role in this. The plans for the sword and the forging—” Violet stopped abruptly, and realized they were both staring at her. “Oh no. You don’t mean for me to do it?”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Silas said with a smile.

  “But I—I don’t know all the details of the prophecy or the forging,” she protested.

  “You don’t need to get technical. The finer points have already been known to you for months,” Avani said. Her eyes softened and she pressed her lips together. “Please, Violet. Will you do this for me?”

  Violet sighed and cast her gaze to the floor. The whole idea seemed overwhelming. She was barely prepared to step inside the king’s throne room, much less speak intelligently about the Ellyllei prophecy and the forging of the Requiem Sword. But then Silas placed a hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes.

  “You can do this, Violet. My father will listen to you, and if you stumble I’ll help fill in the blanks,” he said, smiling.

  She felt her heartbeat increase, and she couldn’t speak for a moment, which led to an awkward silence that Avani broke. “So it’s settled then?” she asked, turning to Violet.

  Violet broke away her gaze from Silas and turned to her friend. “Yes, I’ll…I’ll do it.”

  *

  The late afternoon light spilled through the windows of Alfryd’s throne hall, filling the large room in an aura of orange hues cast by the setting sun. Seated on his dais, Alfryd stroked his gray beard, pondering deeply. Silas stood beside him and watched his father expectantly, waiting for his response to Violet’s carefully constructed speech concerning the Requiem Sword. He had watched the king from the corner of his eye throughout Violet’s explanation of the parchment that listed all of the various materials needed for the sword’s construction. Without pause, she had detailed the elvish prophecy of the Ellyllei and his role as the champion who would deal the final blow to Kraegyn’s second coming. Curiously, she had not revealed that Lucius was the Ellyllei, but only told the king that he held the mithas powder they needed for the forging. Each time Silas had watched his father, he saw little emotion or reaction concerning this monumental revelation of the Requiem Sword’s power. He couldn’t tell if his father was indifferent about the matter or keeping his feelings guarded for some other reason.

  Silas was taught at an early age that it was in the best interests of royalty never to show too much emotion for fear that commoners or fellow noblemen might think he lacked poise or self-control. Unfortunately, Silas was neither poised nor stoic like his father. His temper had often gotten the better of him in tense situations and caused his family embarrassment in political settings. He had gotten better with age, but his mother’s passion for being honest in an unabashed way had passed on to him. Now as he watched his father, he wondered if the elder man had any feelings about Violet’s speech or just wished to be done with this entire proceeding.

  “So, let me understand this correctly,” Alfryd began, “you require camel leather and this…mithas powder to forge the sword?”

  “That is correct, your Majesty,” Violet answered. She glanced quickly at Silas and he nodded at her. Behind her, Avani stood with head bowed and hands clasped in front of her, the established position of supplication for servants. They had both played their parts perfectly, and Silas was proud of their little stint. He hoped that after this matter was completed he and Violet could finally have a moment alone together. Since their short reunion at her guest room, Silas felt the connection between them growing stronger, but priorities had kept them apart.

  “We do have camel leather that may be used for the forging, of course, but your friends will be the only means of acquiring that magical powder you mentioned,” Alfryd continued.

  “Mithas, my lord,” Blaise interjected.

  Alfryd shot him an annoyed glance. “Thank you, Blaise,” he said sardonically.

  “That is correct, your Majesty. Lucius and Siegfried were tasked with retrieving the powder and meeting me here,” Violet repeated.

  “And do you expect them soon then?” the king asked.

  Violet shifted her feet uncertainly. “Well, they planned to travel north to the Grey Swamps to acquire the mithas from the dwarves. I would judge that such a journey would take them at least two months to reach here, your Highness.”

  “I see,” Alfryd said, stroking his beard once more. He seemed to reach a decision and stood from his throne. Everyone in the room straightened except for Avani, who lowered her head in mock deference. “It seems to me that forging the Requiem Sword is a high priority for this kingdom. Not only is it an historic heirloom of the Nostra house, but it is also a powerful weapon that can be used to defeat the threat that is growing in both Nasgothar and Ghadarya. Our enemies know that blade well, and it would be to our advantage to brandish it once more.

  “As f
or this Ellyllei, I know not who he is or whether we can find him. But as King, I will gladly take up the sword of my forbearers to protect this land.” Alfryd paused a moment and glanced at Silas briefly. “There is another powerful weapon we must address when the Four Houses meet here, Silas. Perhaps Miss Violet here should address the other members of the council as well.”

  Silas nodded in agreement. “I think that would be wise, Father. They must be appraised of both the Requiem Sword and…the other artifact,” he said, hesitating to reveal too much in the present company.

  The other powerful weapon was the gauntlet in Neroterra, currently in the possession of the orcs. He witnessed the immense power of the gauntlet firsthand the previous winter on a retrieval mission for Banupal, the half-orc leader of Neroterra. To his dismay, a treaty between Aldron and Neroterra prevented him from securing the gauntlet, but he knew at some point they would need to go back and take it from the orcs, forcibly if needed.

  Alfryd cleared his throat. “So I think for the time being we will wait for the leaders of the Four Houses to convene in the coming days and hope that your friends arrive soon as well. Once we have a unanimous decision, we will proceed with the forging of the sword. But until that time, you will be housed here in the palace. I trust your lodgings are adequate, Miss Violet?”

  “They are indeed, my lord. Thank you,” Violet replied with a smile.

  She felt a slight nudge from behind and realized it was Avani.

  The nudge was a reminder to ask the king to allow them to leave the city once the mithas and camel leather were acquired. The two had argued over this particular issue for weeks. Avani insisted that the Requiem Sword needed to be forged in Numa, the place where it was originally made. Elven forges had a mystical power, and Avani was convinced any other forge would be inadequate for the task of constructing an elven blade. But such a request would be too ambitious after the hospitality they had received from the king. Many Aldronians equated the Requiem Sword with the legendary Cervantes, a hero in this city. No one would approve of the blade being forged in a foreign elf city.

  Violet felt another nudge and gritted her teeth.

  “All right, well I will allow you and your servant to retire to your quarters. You will receive a summons once the nobles from the other houses have arrived—”

  “I’m sorry, your Majesty, but I have a request concerning the forging,” Violet interrupted.

  Silas raised his eyebrows, and he noticed his father mimicked the expression. It was a breach of protocol for a subject to interrupt the king so casually. Silas saw Weifar and Blaise exchange looks, shocked at Violet’s interruption. But Alfryd’s surprised look quickly faded and he gestured for Violet to go on.

  “Well, it pertains to where the sword will be forged. I assume you expect it to be here in one of Aldron’s forges?”

  “Yes, your assumption is correct,” Alfryd said.

  “Well, the issue is that originally the sword was forged in Numa. The elven forges have a magical element to them that is necessary for such a powerful weapon to be effective. Once the materials were acquired, we planned—that is, I planned—to make the weapon in Numa,” Violet said.

  Silas, unaware of this piece of information, turned to his father and saw befuddlement evident on his face. He knew Avani had likely put this request upon Violet, and now it had created an uncomfortable situation for the king. The last time he visited Numa was a debacle. King Sikahr had called the meeting under the false pretense of a trade agreement. Trade with Numa had long been sought, but it was an elusive aim. Sikahr only wanted Alfryd’s help in putting down dissenters within his inner circle, which only made the King of Aldron furious.

  Alfryd sighed. “I am sorry, Violet, but I cannot agree to such a plan. The Requiem Sword is a weapon of Aldron, and I do not entrust it to go to Numa. That land is currently in much turmoil and there is no guarantee that the sword will be delivered back here safely,” he explained in a gentle tone.

  Violet nodded, but Silas noticed that Avani nudged her once more. The young woman bit her lip, then said, “Your Majesty, please reconsider. The power of the sword comes from the Numan forges, and choosing to create it in an Aldronian forge would weaken the sword—”

  “My dear, I am losing patience on this matter. I have rendered my decision and we needn’t continue,” Alfryd said firmly.

  “Father, perhaps there is some validity on this we should consider,” Silas said, making a final appeal to his father. It was a poor choice. Alfryd scowled at him. Silas knew undermining the king’s authority while he entertained an audience was offensive to his royal office.

  “The sword will be forged in Aldron, and that is final,” the king said.

  “I must dispute that decision, your Majesty,” Avani replied, stepping out from behind Violet.

  Alfryd, Blaise, and Weifar all stared at the disguised elf in shock. It was as though she’d declared war on the kingdom. “You dare to challenge the king’s authority in his own hall? You, a mere servant of a titleless commoner?” Blaise said with scorn seething on his face.

  “I am no mere servant,” Avani said, drawing back her headscarf. Her long black hair spilled out, and her elf ears were now clearly visible. “I am Avani Rubiwind, princess of Numa and steward of the Requiem Sword. And I request—no, I demand—that the sword be forged in Numa with accordance with our history and the prophecy.”

  The room was deathly quiet now save for the king’s deep intake of breath at this unexpected turn of events. Even Silas hadn’t counted on Avani’s impulsive proclamation.

  His father pursed his lips, then straightened. “Well, Princess Avani. You and I have much to discuss.”

  CHAPTER 10

  THE FOUR HOUSES

  The streets of Aldron were bustling with activity as people went about their morning routines with an increased measure of haste. Lucius dodged several wagons and riders who nearly ran him over while rushing to their destinations. The previous night, he and Siegfried lodged at an inn near the docks and bought new clothes to better fit in with the local townsfolk. Lucius wore a tanned leather jerkin with wool trousers and a gray overcoat that was a size too big for him. Siegfried, of course, still stood out on account of being an elf, but his leather doublet and the felt hat on his head did obscure his pointed ears somewhat. People stared at the tall elf whenever they noticed his peculiar features, but it did not seem to bother Siegfried.

  Turning on Noble Street, Lucius noticed that the crowds had gotten denser as they progressed closer to Gilead Palace. He struggled to follow Siegfried through throngs of people gathered for some unknown event.

  “I’ve never seen so many people in my life,” Lucius said, glancing around at the multitude.

  “That’s because the Four Houses have convened for a special council,” Siegfried replied.

  “The Four Houses?” Lucius asked.

  Siegfried rolled his eyes. “Lucius, you really must pay more attention when father tutors you on history and politics. The Four Houses of Aldron are the most powerful families in the kingdom of Joppa. They consist of the royal family of Aldron, the Duke of Allesmeade, the Baron and Baroness of Sangre, and the Governor of Tarshish,” he explained.

  “Oh. I think I remember now that you mention it. Don’t they meet once a year?” Lucius asked uncertainly.

  “Yes, for the Springtide Festival. Mostly to discuss the usual boring matters of state. But this is different. While you were sleeping soundly last night at the inn, I learned from some patrons at the tavern that the king has called a special session. Likely to discuss a united military offensive against Nasgothar and the dragons,” Siegfried said. He pushed through a line of people standing on the street, watching expectantly the palace gates which were a hundred feet away.

  Lucius followed, wedging himself through the same group of people who shot him annoyed stares. “Do you think they might also be meeting because of…the sword?” he asked, lowering his voice to a whisper.

  “I wouldn’t do
ubt it. If Violet and Naomi managed to get here safely, I’m positive they’re inside waiting for this council to begin,” Siegfried said, glancing over the heads of the hundreds of people lined up near the gates.

  Lucius followed his gaze and saw that a long wooden barricade blocked the crowds from accessing the far side of the street. Aldron’s Royal Guards were mounted on large war horses, patrolling the street and keeping the people off the lane leading to the gate.

  A raucous bout of cheering erupted further down the street. Lucius turned and saw a cavalcade approaching the palace. Six knights in ceremonial armor rode their steeds ahead of an ornately decorated carriage with a crest emblazoned on the doors. The crest was a shield with twin swords crossed over each other. Above the swords was a small bird with its wings outstretched. Looking closer, Lucius realized the bird was a Lander’s Osprey, native to the Sangre Isles, and he guessed the occupants of the carriage were the delegation from that fiefdom.

  “That’s the carriage of Baron Demeter and Baroness Georgine of the Sangre Islands,” Siegfried said.

  Behind the cavalcade of Sangre, more horses trotted onto the lane with another set of nobles in tow. One man was elegantly dressed in a silk doublet with a complex brocade pattern. He rode a bay stallion and sat straighter than a wood plank fixed to the ground. The man’s long braided hair swished from side to side as he rode, almost comically in rhythm with the horse’s tail. He waved at the crowd, grinning broadly. Lucius heard a plethora of women cheering and swooning at the handsome man, who curiously did not carry a sword like the other knights. Instead a large war club with more than a dozen spikes hung from a loop on his saddle.

  To the man’s left, Lucius noticed another nobleman with a much seedier disposition. He wore a black cape that matched what remained of the dark hair on his head. He was an older man and appeared quite disinterested in the crowd gathered around him.

  “And who are those two?” Lucius asked, turning to Siegfried.

 

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