“I'm fine, Father,” he replied dismissively. “What did you say to Sabu?”
“He's gathering the men to retrieve the fallen. Vultures are already gathering to pick at the carcasses. I want no man's body defiled by those buzzards. They will all be laid to rest appropriately—including your men,” he said.
Lucius nodded, letting his shoulders sag as he weighed the cost of the battle. They had lost more men in the past weeks since they left Aldron than anyone had anticipated. They were woefully short on skilled dragon slayers to complete their gamble in Ghadarya. And to add to the challenges, Simeon and the Uwadi also suffered losses in this battle. He wondered whether or not his father would commit anymore men to the dangerous task of killing the hatchlings in the Maguna Mountains.
"How is Dudley holding up?" Siegfried asked, interrupting Lucius' train of thought.
"Your leader is strong and unfortunately quite stubborn. One of our healers is tending to him. I'm not sure he'll be well enough to take part in any fighting soon though," Simeon said. He wheeled his horse around then turned to them a final time. "Gather up any weapons that can be salvaged from the remains. We can always use the metal and melt it down for our own weapons. I'll see you both back at the camp."
With that, his father trotted off to tend to a group of injured men nearby.
"Things aren't looking very well are they?" Siegfried said.
"No, they certainly aren't. There's only five of us now. After such a tough battle, I don't know if my father will be eager to take part in our plans," Lucius said with a sigh.
"I guess we'll be doing lots of praying these next few days," Siegfried said, forcing a smile.
"I'm already doing more than my fair share, Siegfried."
Chapter 12
Silas put down the empty tankard on the table in front of him and let out a huge sigh as he leaned back in his chair. Across the table from him, Ulric also finished his drink and slammed the tankard on the table. A massive grin broke through the dwarves unkempt beard.
"I've got to hand it to you, your Majesty. The mead in Gilead Palace is quite a lot richer than the dreck they serve in the taverns by the docks," Ulric said.
Silas frowned. "I don't know whether I should be repulsed or flattered by that compliment, Ulric. Of course, I would only serve the finest drink! Do dwarves think before they speak or just allow words to tumble out of their mouths?" Silas forced himself to stay serious. But then the dwarf let out a hearty laugh and he couldn't help but join in.
The two developed an unlikely friendship over the last few weeks. For several weeks, Silas busied himself with the political affairs of his kingdom and the mounting military campaign against Memnon. With Violet gone and many of his closest associates taking on the pressing matters of state, Silas had actually found being a monarch was a lonely affair. Bearing the burden of the crown had always put a strain on his father's life. Silas had erroneously thought that if his father simply spent time away from the throne and delegated his duties, he'd have more time for family and leisure. But now that he wore the crown and sat in the same throne, he understood what he had not as a youth. Leading Aldron and the Four Houses was not a matter one could easily neglect. Especially during wartime.
Despite the inescapable priorities of his role, Silas found it necessary to escape occasionally. And Ulric, a fellow warrior who had fought alongside him, was more than willing to humor the king’s want of a good drink to clear his head. They arranged a weekly meeting in a hidden room between the kitchens of the palace and the scullery. Horace, the palace chef, cooked and served them meals with the finest mead from Aldron's stores. Ulric always wanted to make the affair a contest of drinking which Silas adamantly refused. Dwarves had an impenetrable constitution for mead and beer. The last thing anyone wanted was an inebriated monarch wandering the halls of Gilead Palace like a village fool.
"Come on, lad! Another round and we’ll see how the King of Aldron fares against this dwarf," Ulric said, initiating the familiar challenge.
“What is it with you and trying to get me drunk? I’d like to keep control of my senses, thank you very much.”
“Because it would be hilarious to see his royal Majesty careening about in a stupor, that’s why,” Ulric admitted. “And it would be payback for keeping me cooped up in this boring castle of yours.”
“Who says I’m keeping you here? You have my blessing to leave at any time, master dwarf.”
“Oh really? Then why didn’t you let me go help your pretty maiden on that gardening expedition she’s on? Or better yet! Why didn’t I get to be in Ithileo with Lucius and the others cleaving Draknoir? Admit it, you wanted to make me miserable,” Ulric said.
Silas frowned. “If I wanted to make you miserable, I would’ve assigned you to empty the chamber pots in Gilead Palace.”
“Ulfr's beard, don’t joke about that!” Ulric contorted his face in a disgusted grimace. “No, really... why’d you keep me here?”
“The truth? I’m actually almost enjoying your company, Ulric. But on a more practical level, I’m going to need your dragon slaying experience when those infernal beasts make their move on my city. So be patient, there will be enough cleaving to be done soon,” Silas said.
“That’ll be more to my liking, your Highness,” Ulric said. His voice elevated in pitch when he said the honorific title, an annoying habit he’d developed over the course of their meetings. “It’s a shame we can’t get away from the palace for a while. I could take you aboard the Dusty Mountaineer. She’s a beauty of a caravel, Silas. I reckon a seafaring adventure is on my horizon once we win this war and send those dragons to their graves.”
“Are you always so insufferably cocky? You’ve only killed a single dragon and yet you act as if you’re a master of the Drachengarde,” Silas said, shaking his head. “And besides, I don’t trust a dwarf to captain a ship more than a Draknoir could curtsy.”
Ulric glared at him. “I can captain a ship better than anyone in your sorry sod of a navy, boy. Have you seen the Sangre Isles? Or the shores of Dirkenheath? I think not. Those are not easily navigable waters, let me tell you! But this dwarf is more sea worthy than your honorable admirals.”
Silas waved a hand at him dismissively. The dwarf would go on like this for hours after a few drinks.
“If Lucius were here, he’d be happy to take me up on the offer.”
“Why? Is he ready to enter the afterlife again?” Silas joked.
Another glare from the dwarf, this time it came with an odious grunt. “Hilarious. That boy wants to see the open sea. He’s never left the continent and wants to visit that, eh, island where all you humans came from,” he said.
“Gezer?”
“Yep, that one. He’s keen on going there someday, told me so himself over the winter. I bet he’d gladly sail with a dwarf captain unlike some people.”
“Well, he’s a braver man than I,” Silas said. He lifted his tankard to get another pull than realized it was empty. Disappointed, he contemplated calling Horace for a refill, but thought better of it.
As though he somehow summoned the man from his thoughts, Horace knocked on the door and called. “My lord, are you still in there?” The muffled voice asked.
“Come in, Horace,” Silas said.
The overweight cook stepped inside and bowed clumsily to both he and Ulric. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but Duke Weifar wishes to speak with ye. He knows this is your sanctuary from yer kingly duties, but he seems eager to speak with ye.”
Silas sighed. “Send him in, Horace.”
“Yes, lord. Will ye be having any more mead?”
Silas’ eyebrows raised, and he stared into the empty mouth of the tankard. “I best not, Horace. Take both our tankards and tell Weifar he may enter.”
“Hey, I’m not done with mine yet!” Ulric protested as the cook scooped up the tankards.
“Ignore him,” Silas said to Horace.
A minute later, Weifar stepped into the room and looked crestfallen.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your leisure time, your Majesty, but both Princess Avani and Lady Violet wish to speak with you.”
"Avani and Violet are here? They've only just left a week ago," Silas said, standing from his chair. "Did they tell you why they've returned so soon? Are they hurt?"
Weifar raised an eyebrow. "Sire, I didn't interrogate them. They only said that they needed to speak with you urgently and I came to find you as soon as I could. You can pose the questions yourself, my lord.”
"I'm sorry, Weifar," Silas said, giving a placating gesture with his hand. "I'm surprised at this is all. Please, tell them to meet me in the throne room."
"As you wish, my lord." Weifar bowed and promptly left the room to follow his orders.
Silas sighed then turned to the still sitting dwarf at the table. "Well don't just sit there, Ulric. Let's go!"
Avani and Violet entered the throne room and walked down the long purple carpet to the foot of the dais where Silas sat. His advisors, Lord Blaise, Duke Weifar, and now Sir Ulric stood beside the throne awaiting the two maidens. Although he wasn't a traditional royal advisor, Ulric had been appointed by Silas to his council because he was connected to the dwarf kingdom of Djoulmir. He wasn't technically in a position to hold such an office, but he was a blood relative of King Balfour and could speak to the matters concerning dwarves. Whether he was as wise and deferential as Blaise and Weifar was debatable. Still, Silas wanted the voice of a fellow warrior in his council and Ulric fit perfectly.
"I am surprised to see the both of you here." Silas said, exchanging glances with the two ladies. "Lady Violet, would you care to go first?"
"Silas — I mean, your Majesty, I'd actually prefer if Princess Avani speaks first. Her news will be of greater importance to you," Violet said then curtsied politely.
"Very well. Princess Avani?" Silas prompted.
"King Silas, there isn't any easy way to put this so I'll just be frank. We did not pursue the scouting mission to Arkadeus as you wanted," Avani said.
Silas felt his nostrils flare at the statement. Insubordination was not something he had expected from Avani or the Drachengarde he assigned to such an important mission. Though his temper was rising, he had to believe there was a reasonable explanation. "Is that so? And why did you disregard my orders?"
Avani drew herself up confidently. "It wasn't willful disobedience, Silas. We came upon Siegfried in the woods of Ithileo. He escaped Arkadeus and provided a great deal of information about what Memnon’s plans are for the city."
"Go on," Silas said, now sitting at the edge of the throne.
"I should amend my statement before I give you all the information. It wasn't Siegfried who gave us everything concerning Memnon’s plans. It was the escaped assassin, Ravenmane."
Silas felt a weight form in his stomach then anger welled up inside of him. "My father's assassin provided you with the exact details of Memnon and Kraegyn's plans to attack us? Please tell me that you have either killed or captured that spy," Silas fumed.
Avani nodded. "She surrendered herself willingly. She's been cooperative—"
"Of course she has!" Silas shouted as he stood from the throne. "Don't you see? She's feeding us lies. She only wanted to get caught so that you would bring her here to finish the job that Memnon started. Where is she?"
Both Avani and Violet looked at him aghast. Their expressions conveyed shock at his sudden outburst, but he didn't care. He needed to end this threat to Aldron by having that murderer executed before she carried out any more nefarious plots for Memnon.
"She's being held by the Royal Guard. They have her in a cell in the dungeon. I assure you she poses no threat to us," Avani said, keeping her tone even. "Silas... I know she has committed a heinous crime against your family. But there's something you need to know about her that only she can say."
Silas shook his head. "All I need is for the guards to bring her here immediately." He turned to Blaise. "Blaise, bring the prisoner here and make sure she is suitably restrained."
Blaise nodded then proceeded out of the throne room to follow his order. An awkward silence fell among them as Silas pondered what all this could mean. Did Ravenmane really plan to be caught? Could she be trusted with the information she provided to Avani? And why had she turned against the Draknoir? The questions wracked his mind for several minutes before Violet broke the silence.
"My king, while we are waiting for the prisoner, I'd like to report on the mission to Sylvania," Violet said.
Silas raised his head to look at her and upon seeing her innocent face, his turbulent mood settled. “Go ahead, Violet,” he said.
"Well, first I will say that we successfully gathered all the talo ferns needed for the antidote against crow's blight. Caldwell and Morton are distilling the ferns as we speak. With any luck, most of the infected peasantry will be fully recovered by the end of the week," Violet said, a thin smile forming on her lips.
Silas forced a smile. It was an amazing victory for Violet. She had seized the opportunity to relieve the suffering of sickened Aldronians and rose to the occasion. He was proud of her. Though much of the nobility could not care less for dying commoners, Silas knew they were the lifeblood of his kingdom. They worked the hardest and showed great loyalty to the kingdom. Without them, there would be no food or services to provide for the rest of Aldron’s citizens.
"Well done, Violet. Our prayers are with you, Caldwell, and Morton to see the end of crow’s blight in our fair city," Silas said. A nagging thought crept into his mind and he quickly voiced it. "I am a little surprised, however, that you accomplished this so quickly. Didn't we discuss that this trip would take the better part of a month?"
Violet bit her lower lip. "Well, yes we did. There was a bit of a... snag in our original plans. We ran into King Klik and his fairies. They have taken up residence in my old cottage."
"What?" Avani said, raising an eyebrow.
"Apparently, the banshees of the Southern Passage took control of Gwyltref. So Klik and his people created a refugee province in the cottage. But that isn't the strangest part of this tale, I'm afraid."
"Oh?" Silas said, eager to hear how much stranger the story could get.
"We came upon a druid named Alistair who was accompanied by King Balfour from the kingdom of the dwarves. He dispelled all the banshees in the area who were threatening us—"
"Wait, wait a minute," Silas interrupted, holding a hand up. "You came across banshees? Was anybody hurt?"
Violet shook her head several times. "Not at all. The druid released some kind of magic from his staff that destroyed them immediately."
"And you mentioned my cousin Balfour was with this druid?" Ulric spoke up.
"Yes, Alistair convinced the dwarf king and his subjects to participate in the fighting against Arkadeus," Violet said.
Silas raised an eyebrow at that. "The dwarves are attacking Arkadeus? This is excellent news."
"Indeed it is, your Majesty. I thought the dwarves were completely unconcerned with the affairs of men," Duke Weifar said. Then he turned to look at Ulric beside him. "Well, most of them anyway."
"Aye. The druid must've cast a spell on old Balfour. You think I'm stubborn and obnoxious? Wait till you meet him," Ulric said.
Silas paced the space in front of his throne, weighing the significance of this news. He had received word from a merchant vessel to the south that the Sangree reinforcements were two weeks from arriving. They had no idea when Memnon would launch a strike against Aldron, but he reasoned it would likely be within the next week. Having the aid of the hearty dwarven warriors would increase their chances of success for a siege on Arkadeus. But there was still the matter of defending Aldron. If he mobilized all of his forces to Arkadeus, the garrison in the palace and the city would be woefully outnumbered by any incursion.
"Do you know how many dwarves Balfour's commanding?" Silas asked, turning to Violet.
His fiancée shrugged. "I don't know the exact number. But it was conservatively
in the hundreds. Many of them are camped in the woods near the cottage so I didn't get a good idea on how many there were," Violet said apologetically.
Silas waved a hand dismissively. "That's quite all right. I didn't send you to Sylvania to assess troop numbers."
"If I had to guess, your Majesty. I'd say my cousin has rallied at least five hundred dwarves to this war. That would leave several hundred more defending the mines of Djoulmir. He definitely wants to keep the gold and treasures stored there safe," Ulric reasoned. Then he added, "and the dwarf people of course. But ask any dwarf and they'll tell you that gold often comes before family."
Silas and the rest of them looked at the dwarf with mortified expressions.
Ulric frowned. "It's a joke. You Aldronians have no sense of humor."
The doors of the throne room suddenly swung open as the guards let in Lord Blaise. Behind him, two Royal Guardsmen brought Ravenmane inside, shackled by chains on each wrist that both guards held on either side. The assassin followed Blaise inside with a blank expression. Her hair suited her namesake, dark as a raven feathers and her eyes were similarly dark spheres that looked up to meet Silas’ malicious stare. The woman had a bloodstained bandage wrapped around her thigh and limped slightly as she stopped before the throne.
Avani and Violet parted to let her through to stand under the perilous gaze of the King of Aldron. No words were exchanged for a moment. Silas sat down on his throne, ready to pass judgment on this murderous villain who robbed him of his father.
"My lord, here is the assassin you summoned for," Lord Blaise finally spoke. He stepped onto the dais and took his place beside Weifar to support the king.
Ravenmane straightened her back and met Silas' eyes, seemingly resigned to whatever fate he had planned for her. Something about the woman's quiet confidence impressed Silas. As he looked down at her, he even felt as though he knew her somehow. Not just as the skulking killer who disrupted the rule of his kingdom, but as someone else he might've recognized from a life long ago. He pushed the thought aside and focused his mind on the business at hand.
Keep of Dragons (The Azuleah Trilogy Book 3) Page 16
