The Fires of War - Chapter Two

Chapter 2

Kyran stood in the throne room of Denipoor’s Glimmerveil Palace. The white marble floor was bespeckled in flakes of gold only interrupted by a black lane of marble tile that led to a grand dais. The walls were hewn of polished sandstone with wide openings on two sides adjacent to the throne. They led to large balconies that overlooked Denipoor. Pillars of rose-colored granite rose up to the ceiling from which dangled velvet curtains decorated with crystal gems. 

Milo gawked beside him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it,” he said.

“Don’t touch anything,” Kyran said. He, Altin, and Milo approached the throne on the other end of the room.

The Gold Oak Throne was shaped in the likeness of a small golden tree, its branches reaching up and over King Mendrican who sat wrapped in his regal garments. A rust-colored beard covered his face and he regarded Kyran with a scowl ruled by dark eyebrows. The silver circlet on his head sat atop his gray and brown hair. 

Guards lined the room armed with halberds and swords. A familiar face smiled through a black beard to Kyran. Master Eldwell, Kyran recognized. He smiled in turn and the middle-aged man in decorative steel gray armor waved him forward.

Kyran bowed with Altin just before he reached the throne. He struggled to remember Milo’s instructions on how long to bow.

“Rise,” he heard the King say. He met the King’s gaze and waited for a signal for him to speak. “Sir Eldwell is my Master at Arms. I understand that he was your mentor in Grenloch.”

“Yes, my King,” Kyran answered. “He commanded me when I served in the militia.”

“He tells me you are a good and loyal servant,” the king said. He still wore a scowl on his face. “You should thank him for obtaining an audience with me. Tell me what news you have from Grimhold.”

Kyran stepped forward and kneeled. “My liege, I’ve seen an army gathering under the Grimhold banner. They have dragons and dark magic. We travelled as fast as we could to bring this news.”

The king’s expression did not change. “Dragons and dark magic? That is a bold accusation against Grimhold.” Several of the guards chuckled at his remark. “What proof do you have for me before I ‘wage war’ against one of my most generous subjects? How do you know his army is meant for me and not brogs?”

Kyran shared a nervous glance with Altin. Should they tell him about the gods and old magic and would he believe them?

Altin bowed once more before speaking. “My liege, I am a Seeker from the College of Anidrack. My brothers and I came upon a magical artifact, a tool once used by the Children of Arden to contact the gods and summon greater magic than we are familiar with.”

Mendrican eyed Altin with skepticism but leaned forward, his ears caught by the mage’s story. “Arden of the old gods? They are gone. What threat could they be?”

“They are returning,” Altin said. “The Children of Nemoth are preparing for his return. They stole the Crimson Throne from the Vault in Anidrack. With the Pilgrim Stone and the power of the Red Moon, Lady Grimhold will give her soldiers eternal life and conquer the continent.”

King Mendrican looked from the brothers to Sir Eldwell, as if he were weighing their credibility against his own skepticism. “Garus Grimhold and Lady Zamari have been a generous contributor to the realm. What would she have to do with dark magic and dragons--”

A roar echoed through the sky and Kyran felt his bones shake. He knew that sound. Dragons, they followed us here. The guards in the throne room looked confused. The roar came a second time and they rushed to the balcony. 

Kyran joined them, Altin and Milo trailing just behind. The entire city of Denipoor lay within his sight; from the docks to the city gates, yet, his eyes were drawn to a section of the outerwall crumbled and burned. Through the curtain of smoke emerged a cavalry that poured into the city streets.

The King shoved past the guards who stood on the balcony with Kyran. “What happened?” he asked.

Kyran ignored him and surveyed the army invading Denipoor. There are hundreds of them. It won’t be long for them to overtake the palace. We may still escape yet. He looked to the sky. Where are the dragons?

“Get all swords to that gate now,” Sir Eldwell said, his voice wrestling with fear to utter the command. “Send a retinue here to protect the King. Send word to all the nearest nobles and available swords.” 

As guards scurried off the balcony to carry out the orders, Kyran kept his eye on the sky. A red dragon descended from the cloud over the harbor. Blazing pits, I don’t remember that one. Dozens of smaller dragons dove into the crowd below. Kyran watched the massive red dragon glide toward a familiar ship and a sense of dread filled his gut. “Consus,” he said. He looked to Altin over his shoulder. “That’s Consus’ boat.”

Kyran ran to exit the throne room. He didn’t know what good he would be against dragons but he had to get to the docks. A guard burst through the entrance of the throne room, a bolt sticking out of his shoulder. 

“We’ve been betrayed,” the guard said. “Those Gold Cloaks - The Swords of Serun - they’re taking the palace. They’re on their way here now.” 

Screams echoed from the hall; the clashing of steel drew closer as did the stomp of marching boots. 

“Seal the doors,” Sir Eldwell commanded. “Seal them at once! Set a barricade and protect the King.”