"I recognise this face," commented Duke Poleus, as Thibalt bowed before the elderly man's throne.
Thibalt stood up, noticing that the Duke had not changed since he had arrived here with Reinar and Christill many months ago. The room unsettled Thibalt and brought back memories of that day when they had last seen Reinar. He peered around him to the empty rows of seats that had then been lined with robed figures and felt a shiver run through his spine. It did not please him at all to be back in this room.
"Thibalt Steelfist if I am not mistaken," continued Duke Poleus. "And it seems as though you have become a captain in the Feldonian army." The Duke rubbed his thin beard as he so often did when in thought. "How interesting."
"I bring a message from Errollan Dune, my lord," announced Thibalt. He stepped forward and handed the folded parchment to the Duke.
Thibalt waited and watched Andre's eyes scroll through the message. As he progressed through the long text, his eyes grew dark and Thibalt watched as the Duke's form slumped in his chair. He placed the parchment on his lap and blew out a long breath.
Thibalt did not move from the spot, waiting for Errollan's message to sink in.
"Tell me, Captain Steelfist," said Andre finally. "Did you see the banner of war hanging from the top of the Citadel?"
"No, my lord," answered Thibalt honestly. "I left before General Harrinus and Lord Dune had raised the banner from the Citadel."
"I only ever saw it once," said Andre, staring with an absent look through one of the few windows of the room. "It was a long time ago, but not upon the Citadel's peak. It was hanging on display in a decrepit hall, for those who wished to gaze upon old relics. I never thought that I would see the day it would be flown from the Citadel itself."
Thibalt did not see the great importance of a simple banner, but did not reply. He did however take note that the Duke's voice had become resigned. It was not the same authoritative and powerful voice that had set him and his brother free.
"Do you know what is in this letter?" asked the Duke, waving the dispatch in the air.
"I have not read it, but I think I know what it says," answered Thibalt.
The Duke placed the letter back down. "It was inevitable. We all knew that sooner or later the West would be asked to send their forces into battle. It has happened in every great campaign that Dargon has launched."
"This is different," replied Thibalt. "I have been to the East and have seen with my own eyes the power that has been unleashed against Feldom's faltering forces. It must be stopped now, and it seems that no matter how many times we say it, you Westerners do not understand how grave the situation is." Thibalt suddenly bit his lip. He could not believe that he had just said that. Not so long ago he had been a Westerner.
The Duke laughed, easing Thibalt's damaged conscience somewhat. "I like the fact that you speak your mind, Captain. It is most likely a repercussion of your Miirvkin upbringing, but none the less a good attribute. I also agree with what you are saying. Errollan has, after much debate, sounded the call to arms and asks for the united army of Feldom to marshal at the City of Skiye. It will be the first time in centuries that the soldiers of Feldom will march under one banner to fight against the hated Dargonians."
"It is the only way to ensure victory," remarked Thibalt, in the voice of a true soldier.
"Yes, and we will show them that Feldom is not as weak as they think," Duke Poleus replied passionately. Thibalt watched as Andre Poleus once again transformed, his sullen mood replaced by a fiery eagerness. "We will march back up to the walls of Precedin under one mighty banner and then Zephra will rue the day that he brought the West into this war."
Thibalt prayed that the Duke's words would hold true. He had finally found a measure of peace in Feldom and was ready to do anything to preserve that. Would Feldom's forces be able to stop the charge of Zephra's armies or would he lose those that he loved. So many had already lost friends and family in Precedin.
He had to hope.
Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One) Page 137
