the medallion before
Hubert’s fading eyes so that he could see the wolf’s head engraved on its
surface for a final time. “I relieve you of your rule.”
Then the guards
dragged his body from the room, squeezing his pudgy legs through the door and
closing it shut behind them. The fear they left behind was so potent that
Crevan thought he might have smelled it from the other side of the castle. He
could hear the question that swarmed in the heads of the other four:
Had everyone’s drink been poisoned, or only
Hubert’s?
Let them wonder.
Let them steep in their expendability.
“Well, good
riddance to the lazy cod,” Reginald finally said. He turned to Crevan. “What
the Unforgivable Mountains need is a firm hand. If Your Majesty wishes, I’d be
happy to take charge of the territory myself.”
His offer set
off another squabble amongst the Five. Why should Reginald get more territory
than anyone else? How did he expect to tame the mountains? Who got murdered and
made him the best man for the job?
Their cawing and
squawking drove Crevan to grind his teeth. He slammed his fist down, toppling
his goblet onto the floor. It clattered loudly as the room went quiet.
“If I wanted
another herd of fat, greedy-eyed merchants roaming my Kingdom, I would gladly
put the region in your hands,” Crevan said to Reginald. “But I have a different
vision for the mountains. A much more … aggressive, vision.”
Almost on cue,
the door to the throne room swung open. A man clad in full armor marched up to
Crevan. His coarse hair fell nearly to his shoulders and a wolfish grin peeked
out through his tangled beard. He bowed before he sat in Hubert’s empty chair.
Crevan smiled at
the stunned looks on the others’ faces. “You all remember Titus, my warlord.”
It wasn’t a
question. Titus lounged in his chair, sizing the other four up with predator’s
eyes, and they stiffened under his gaze.
“I agree with
you on one point, Reginald. The Unforgivable Mountains do need a firm hand. And I believe Titus will give its citizens the
discipline they lack,” Crevan said.
Titus took the
gold medallion from him and slid it over his head. He grinned at the other four
— and soaked up their scornful looks like sunshine.
Crevan stood and
the Five scrambled to their feet. “I trust you will all work a little harder to
capture the Dragongirl, now that you’ve seen the fate of failure.” He nodded to
Titus. “You’ll find her in Tinnark. Go quickly — and remind those
mountain rats of their King.”
Chapter 5
Bow-Breaker
Kael’s meeting
with the elders didn’t go well.
He’d never been
in the Hall when it wasn’t packed full of people. As he walked down the endless
line of empty tables and chairs, he kept his eyes firmly on the crisscrossing
pattern of scratches on the back of Roland’s jerkin. Though he knew the chairs
were empty, he swore he could feel the weight of eyes upon him.
Perhaps his
ancestors were there, shaking their ghostly heads as he shamed them.
When Roland
stepped aside, he saw the elders fanned out around their table. They leaned
forward, squinting hard with failing eyes and combing their hands pensively
through their beards. Brock was even making the effort to stand, though he
leaned heavily on the table for support.
Kael’s face
burned hotter with every second they made him wait. He stared pointedly at the
many paper-thin wrinkles between Brock’s eyes and tried not to betray his
emotions.
“It has long
been our belief that you were most doomed of us all. And now it seems we’ve
been proven correct,” Brock said, though he didn’t seem particularly upset
about it. In fact, he sounded rather smug.
“Tell the boy
his fate,” Roland growled.
Brock actually
smirked at him. “It is fortunate that you have so many protectors,” he said to
Kael. “A man who runs away can hardly deserve them.”
“I didn’t run.”
His fists shook as he thought about how badly
Hubert’s fading eyes so that he could see the wolf’s head engraved on its
surface for a final time. “I relieve you of your rule.”
Then the guards
dragged his body from the room, squeezing his pudgy legs through the door and
closing it shut behind them. The fear they left behind was so potent that
Crevan thought he might have smelled it from the other side of the castle. He
could hear the question that swarmed in the heads of the other four:
Had everyone’s drink been poisoned, or only
Hubert’s?
Let them wonder.
Let them steep in their expendability.
“Well, good
riddance to the lazy cod,” Reginald finally said. He turned to Crevan. “What
the Unforgivable Mountains need is a firm hand. If Your Majesty wishes, I’d be
happy to take charge of the territory myself.”
His offer set
off another squabble amongst the Five. Why should Reginald get more territory
than anyone else? How did he expect to tame the mountains? Who got murdered and
made him the best man for the job?
Their cawing and
squawking drove Crevan to grind his teeth. He slammed his fist down, toppling
his goblet onto the floor. It clattered loudly as the room went quiet.
“If I wanted
another herd of fat, greedy-eyed merchants roaming my Kingdom, I would gladly
put the region in your hands,” Crevan said to Reginald. “But I have a different
vision for the mountains. A much more … aggressive, vision.”
Almost on cue,
the door to the throne room swung open. A man clad in full armor marched up to
Crevan. His coarse hair fell nearly to his shoulders and a wolfish grin peeked
out through his tangled beard. He bowed before he sat in Hubert’s empty chair.
Crevan smiled at
the stunned looks on the others’ faces. “You all remember Titus, my warlord.”
It wasn’t a
question. Titus lounged in his chair, sizing the other four up with predator’s
eyes, and they stiffened under his gaze.
“I agree with
you on one point, Reginald. The Unforgivable Mountains do need a firm hand. And I believe Titus will give its citizens the
discipline they lack,” Crevan said.
Titus took the
gold medallion from him and slid it over his head. He grinned at the other four
— and soaked up their scornful looks like sunshine.
Crevan stood and
the Five scrambled to their feet. “I trust you will all work a little harder to
capture the Dragongirl, now that you’ve seen the fate of failure.” He nodded to
Titus. “You’ll find her in Tinnark. Go quickly — and remind those
mountain rats of their King.”
Chapter 5
Bow-Breaker
Kael’s meeting
with the elders didn’t go well.
He’d never been
in the Hall when it wasn’t packed full of people. As he walked down the endless
line of empty tables and chairs, he kept his eyes firmly on the crisscrossing
pattern of scratches on the back of Roland’s jerkin. Though he knew the chairs
were empty, he swore he could feel the weight of eyes upon him.
Perhaps his
ancestors were there, shaking their ghostly heads as he shamed them.
When Roland
stepped aside, he saw the elders fanned out around their table. They leaned
forward, squinting hard with failing eyes and combing their hands pensively
through their beards. Brock was even making the effort to stand, though he
leaned heavily on the table for support.
Kael’s face
burned hotter with every second they made him wait. He stared pointedly at the
many paper-thin wrinkles between Brock’s eyes and tried not to betray his
emotions.
“It has long
been our belief that you were most doomed of us all. And now it seems we’ve
been proven correct,” Brock said, though he didn’t seem particularly upset
about it. In fact, he sounded rather smug.
“Tell the boy
his fate,” Roland growled.
Brock actually
smirked at him. “It is fortunate that you have so many protectors,” he said to
Kael. “A man who runs away can hardly deserve them.”
“I didn’t run.”
His fists shook as he thought about how badly
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