“Brave and worthy sentiments, but soon there won’t be a realm to rule over. I’ve already enlisted more men into my army than you and your father could ever hope to have, and I will crush your walls with forces you couldn’t possibly fathom.”
“Everything you own you have obtained by my father’s generosity, but you’ll eventually lose it all.”
He changed the subject, switching to one that he knew would rile him. “Have you heard from your dear sister yet?”
“Wherever she might be, she’s safe from you.”
“For now, but in time Jaron will flush her out, and I will have her.”
“If you touch a hair on her head you’ll have me to deal with, puppet or no puppet.”
“It doesn’t matter. Half of this kingdom already belongs to me. You’ll be hard pressed to win allegiance back from your own people.”
“Don’t think for a moment that we won’t stand against you. You may have the commoners wrapped around your finger out of fear, but we’ll eventually destroy everything that you have worked to obtain.”
“Your faith in your alliances will be your weakness.”
“And your overconfidence in your powers will be yours.”
Kevaan walked away from Fallon, leaving him to fume. Getting Kevaan to turn away from his duty to his province was proving most difficult. His strength was considerable, and he was not easily swayed by threats. He wondered how much he could resist if he chose to use his real powers against him, like he had already used on his father.
The old man was weak and wanted nothing more than to turn over his rule to his son, to allow himself rest in his final years. The toll of years ruling the realm, having had to take over at an extremely young age after his father died in battle, was making him weak in body and more so in soul. He saw Fallon as a shrewd businessman who could manage the daily holdings of a profitable duchy and be able to take on other endeavors as well. Handing over the account for the river tolls was just one weight off his shoulders. The burdens should be passed on to Kevaan, but Fallon’s influence on his mind kept him from seeing the truth.
He never expected it to be this easy, even trusting the guidance from the Dark One, and he smiled to himself at just how far he’d come in such a short time.
Melenthia was an obstacle that he hadn’t planned on. He knew that she was strong willed and often expressed her opinion against things, but he underestimated her resiliency and ability to take care of herself.
He wanted her, not only because she was the Chosen One, the one brought into the world to destroy him. That in itself amused him. A woman, chosen to be the savior of the kingdom. How preposterous. Women were for one use only and that was to bring pleasure to a man. Of course, a child from her and him would make his power unstoppable. A son from her would seal the pact with the Dark One.
The thought of taking her by force excited him. Her fiery red hair and smooth creamy skin would bring him immense pleasure, and having her for himself before she was spoiled by another excited him even more. She would never let him, he knew, but that would hardly tamper down his urges, in fact it made them stronger.
He looked back on the night of her birthday, when he revealed his wanting of her. He should’ve had her then, then all of this could’ve been avoided. He knew that she was ripe for the taking, and he should’ve never allowed Kevaan to step into his affairs. That was a mistake, and now they would all suffer for it. Melenthia running from him angered him at first, but he knew she could not evade him forever. Jaron was out there searching, using his mind probing power to seek the answer to his question. Soon, Fallon himself would have that power too, then he would be able to answer the question that was evading him, where was she? Kevaan was clever, he’d give him that, putting her somewhere he could not easily find, but with patience, he would figure it out.
He turned from the window now. He hated waiting. His rising urge to lay with her had been building up for some time now, and he didn’t know how long he could resist. Maybe a ride into town and a visit with a common harlot would at least satisfy him for a while longer, until he could take Melenthia for his own.
He decided that he would go for a ride and cool off. It all of a sudden seemed hot and sticky in the room. He knew it was only the thoughts of her that were whetting his appetite, but losing control within the walls of the castle with all of Randor’s staff watching was dangerous to his cause. He wanted trust and loyalty, not suspicion. Taking a chambermaid for the night would only arouse questions that he didn’t want. A ride into town for a quick, rough tumble in bed would let him get by for a while longer. If he didn’t find Melenthia soon, his urges would turn into frustration, and he couldn’t be sure of what he would do. He had to play this how his master bade him to or it would not play out in his favor. He had to trust the Dark One. Soon, there would be time to celebrate victory.
CHAPTER 17
B
rogan and his group of men traveled the main road out of Tarun toward the Danstrom Mountains. The guide he hired said the ride would be about two days to the base of the mountains, then another three up to the dwarf city of Yarden. It was not that far up, but the going was tough, steep and rugged, and getting to it wasn’t easy. Brogan had made sure that the group he hired were used to the rough terrain of the outdoors and who were in good enough shape to make the climb. There would still be some snow lingering in patches where there was no light, and it was a difficult and dangerous climb. Once getting to the city, they’d have to gain entrance inside, and that would prove just as tough. He hoped that the message Dain had given him would convince them to open the gates. The dwarves were a suspicious lot and always assumed everyone was after the treasures that were hidden deep inside the mountain.
The men packed light, just enough food and water to make the trip. They would eat only cold rations and make a fire only at night to keep them warm in the still cold nights in the high altitude. The horses would be able to make the trek up the mountain, but there were places too dangerous, and they would have to dismount and lead them up.
Brogan was lulled by the
clip-clop
of the horses hooves on the road, and he let his mind wander. He was going into unknown territory. Oh, men had been up the mountain pass many times, but no one intentionally went to Yarden. Most of the time they skirted around the city and went down the pass on the other side. The dwarves were gruff and didn’t take too kindly to unexpected visitors. And the storms that ran through in the high reaches of the mountain range were a death sentence for any man unlucky enough to get caught at the top. It was not a pleasure trip to be sure and if he didn’t feel he had a debt to pay, he wouldn’t be going either.
He looked at the men around him. Most of them were grizzled, tough sailors and retired warriors who had seen a lot in their lives. Some of them had volunteered for the money, a few of them just longed for another adventure. Any adventure. Brogan had only agreed because he owed Dain for saving his meager life, but maybe somewhere deep he felt things stirring that he couldn’t explain. Preparing the entire kingdom for what might be coming was a bold move, and he would support the king in any way he could. Going to bring a message to the dwarves was only the beginning of his loyalty. Dain was a good king, although perhaps a bit immature still, but the qualities were there and Brogan knew that when the time came Dain would prove himself. He knew that ages from now, people would remember King Dainard Llewelyn Grayson as a king for the people, a king for all ages.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by a voice behind him. He shifted his weight and turned sideways in the saddle to look where the men were pointing. There was a dark cloud heading toward them, but it wasn’t an ordinary cloud; like rain or snow, it was low to the ground, almost like fog, but darker. You couldn’t see through it. He didn’t think it was from the many horses and riders of an army, but looking again, the way it moved gave him pause that perhaps he was wrong. The horses started to stamp and neigh, and Brogan fought to keep his horse from bolting. Whatever was coming was spooking them, too.
Brogan finally got control of his steed and rode toward the back of the group, pulling in next to the rear guard. The guard had stopped and had his horse pointed to where they had just come.
“Something is moving this way. If we’re here when it reaches us, we’ll be in the middle of it, whatever it is.”
Brogan nodded. He rode forward again, to the very front of the train, and pulled his mount in beside the leader. “Something is coming our way, and fast. What does it look like to you, Bort?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s an army, at least not an army of men. The cloud is too big and too dark to be made by horses.”
“Giants?”
“Could be. What would they be doing this far east? Are there any giants living in the Danstroms?”
“Not that I recall. It could be a blood mission. If they’ve been enlisted into service and are on a mission, then something big is happening, and right under the king’s nose.”
“Well whatever the reason, I think now would be a good time to pick up the pace.”
“Can we outrun them?”
“If we don’t stop we can make it into the cave that’s just at the base of the mountain range. It’ll keep us hidden until they pass.”
“Let’s be on our way then.”
Bort rode toward the back and yelled out to the men as he passed. The whole party picked up the pace and continued on toward the peaks that were looming ahead. Brogan certainly hoped they could keep up the speed and stay ahead of the approaching mass.
When they reached the cave, they barely had time to get all the horses and men into the safety of the darkness. They went in deeper and hunkered down trying to keep the horses calm. They waited for over an hour for the group to pass. Brogan had been right. Giants. There were about fifty of them, and they were definitely on a mission. They did not sway from their path or seem to notice the men who were not doing all that well keeping the scared mounts quiet. They passed the group and Bort looked back to Brogan.
“Now would be a good time to send word to Dain, I think. Tell him what we know at this moment. The giants are on the move, and this far from the Indriahs mean they have a purpose. He needs to know.”
“What way do you think they’re headed?”
“Can’t be sure without following them, but it seems to me they may be headed for the coast. That does not bode well for the coastal city. If they’re looking for ocean passage somewhere, the city will not be equipped enough to handle a load such as that.”
Brogan frowned but nodded. He crept over to the younger man at the back of the group. He gave him a message and sent him back the way they had come, back to Drydon Keep. They watched as the man made his way silently through the cave and back onto the road when he was sure it was clear. They watched as he rode hard away from them. Brogan returned to the front of the train again and nodded to Bort.
“Let’s move. We need to be at the cliff flat before nightfall. There’s no way I’m going to try and ride the mounts up that hill in the dark.”
“I’m with you. Let’s go.”
***
Dain and Melenthia rode side by side, Taran and Malak behind them a ways to give them some space and freedom to talk. They rode in silence for awhile, Dain gazing over at her every now and then, looking away when she noticed.
She was wearing brown riding pants, gathered at the ankles in order for the black boots to fit snugly over them. Her shirt was long sleeved and button down, with feminine ruffles down the front. They did not hide her figure as her original clothes had done, and getting her to put them on, while difficult, brought him a bit of satisfaction. She was dressed for a day in the countryside, but she still remained an exotic feminine beauty. He felt a sense of pride riding next to her, almost as if he wanted to show her off, like a prize that he’d won. He really didn’t think of her that way, but something in his ego caused him to sit straighter in the saddle nevertheless.
After almost a league of silence, she looked over at him and smiled. He noticed and smiled back, then said, “What?”
“I was just wondering what you were thinking.”
He smiled at her again, larger now, and she swore he almost blushed. He didn’t answer right away so she persisted.
“Are you trying to guess what I might be thinking?”
He cleared his throat and shifted in his saddle uncomfortably. He knew what he was thinking, and he did want to ask her if she had the same feelings of attraction as he did, but thought better of it. “Maybe,” he said instead. “I guess I’m just having a difficult time figuring you out.”
“Why?”
“Well, you are a mystery to me and to everyone else as well, I’m sure. I assume you like it that way.”
“Most of the time, but occasionally I will reveal my secrets.” She glanced at him under long red lashes, then asked, “Is there something you’d like to know, Dain?”
He was pleased that she had stopped referring to him as your majesty. He wanted her to feel as if they could be friends. He wanted her to trust him. “Many actually.”
“Ask then, I have nothing to hide.”
He raised his eyebrows at her and smiled again, this time very boyishly. “Really, anything?”