* * *
Thibalt greeted the two armoured guardians standing at each side of the arched entrance. He followed General Harrinus inside. The throne room was alive with angry voices. They marched past the banners hanging down in between the massive columns, each representing one of the greater and smaller dukedoms of Feldom. Hanlit pointed at the large group circled around the King's throne. The three of them pushed through the onlookers to approach the King. There in the centre stood Errollan, bearing an expression that they all knew too well.
"This is beyond madness!" roared Errollan, raising his fist in the air angrily. "I have waited and watched for longer than I should have. You have brought me to this decision through your own insane actions!"
Perephine, looming menacingly behind the King's throne, clenched his hands together so tightly that they turned deathly pale. "Errollan Dune, You are in the presence of royalty," he hissed in a voice that carried to the darkest corners of the Citadel. "Have you forgotten that?"
"I am in the presence of one who I thought could rule this nation. I now see that I have been blind and misplaced in my beliefs. Feldom will crumble under the influence of this weak monarchy."
Thibalt heard Harrinus's gasp and understood what he was witnessing. Errollan and Perephine had finally reached the limits of their patience and the final battle for control was being carried out.
"I have never seen such disregard in my own court!" spat Dieter. "How dare you come into my chambers and accuse me like this!"
"You give me no choice," replied Errollan. "You have wasted weeks upon weeks brooding about Baldoroff and his treachery, whilst Zephra has found no resistance in his campaign to rid the world of the Feldonian race. I wonder now whether we are worth saving."
"Heresy!" screamed Perephine and within seconds the crowd was screaming and arguing amongst themselves. Thibalt watched as the people around him became bitter enemies.
"Will you declare a state of war?" questioned Errollan one final time.
Dieter puffed out is chest and opened his mouth to speak, but Perephine cut in quickly. "How many times must we answer that question? We are the King's advisors and we have decided that there are more pressing matters to deal with."
"Elephtheria, Lisha, Tal and Garret," called out Errollan to the remaining King's advisors. "Are these words true? Have you decided that at this point in time the threat of the nation of Durraas is greater than that of Zephra's move against the Alliance."
The advisors shuffled around nervously then Tal de Frien spoke, "Baldoroff risks open war with his own kin and as such we must deal with him swiftly and decisively."
Errollan waited to see if the other advisors had anything to say. He knew that Tal was Perephine's right hand in the council and held few opinions of his own, but he expected more from Elephtheria and Garret. He gazed into Elephtheria's eyes and saw distress. "Thee, have you nothing to say?" he asked softly.
She seemed to struggle to bring herself to speak, but finally she turned and replied, "So has the council decided."
Errollan clearly understood the meaning behind Elephtheria's words and let out a sigh.
"My choice is final," yelled Errollan over the angry crowd. "As of this day I am relinquishing your control over the armies of Feldom. The Maloreichar will assume the duties that were rightfully yours and see to it that the people of Feldom are protected."
A silence so profound that Thibalt could hear his own heart pounding nervously in his chest filled the chamber. Perephine and the other advisors stood with ghastly white faces and the King sat stiffly in his heavy chair with disbelief etched into his features.
"King Dieter Castaneda, I Errollan Dune, protector of Feldom, hereby declare that emergency authority has been given to the Honour Guard."
There was no reply.
No one could dispute Errollan's claim and those who would have raised their voices were too shocked to speak. "You need not worry yourself with the war anymore. I will see to it that your humble Citadel is kept safe."
Errollan turned and marched away from the throne, his steps echoing amongst the now silent chamber.
Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One) Page 122
