Chapter Forty-One
An explosion of heat and wood and metal erupts over my head.
Splinters of arrow, set alight, rain down on me in a shower of fire.
No arrowhead meets my flesh. With my entire body trembling, I release my arm from its position of protection, my breath hot and shaking as my eyes adjust, and find the air arrowless, and patches of the sand ablaze at my feet.
There’s no way, I couldn’t possibly have...
Eliaz.
I scan the beach for him, terrified of how I might find him. Mauled. Bloody. Dead.
He is in the same position I last saw him in, only this time, the granphids sit obediently either side of him, emitting a strange vibrating purr. One lazily rubs its giant head on him, the gentle nudge enough to almost knock him over.
The rest of us forget the blood, the horror, the flames. We look on at him with pure awe, unsure what to make of the scene. Those beasts were out to kill him, and now sit subdued by his side, almost sedated. Inebriated.
That’s just it. The crow that came crashing into my bedchambers wasn’t a trained messenger. It was under the control of the Umbrian king. Until now, I haven’t given much thought to Eliaz using his power on anything other than a person.
But there he is, back to us, with a hand rested on a killer, venomous beast's head. The biggest display of power I have ever seen. The arrow fire has ceased, meaning those shooting them at us are as caught off guard at the sight as we are.
Dozens of men emerge from their hiding in the trees, bows lowered, jaws loose.
They are all dressed, in the same simple brown linen shirt and matching shorts.
Only one man wears beige, and if not for his clothing, his height alone is enough to make him stand out amongst the rest of them, standing at least two heads taller.
The dark-haired giant moves forward a step, eyes stern, but the movement wary, he seems to regard Eliaz with awestruck caution, the part of him that wishes to stand his ground battling through in the tightness of his jaw.
Oh, I bet Eliaz is enjoying every minute of this.
He scratches the chin of the granphid to his right, and the beast trills with enjoyment. ‘You will take us to your emperor,’ he calls out to the man in beige. ‘We wish for peace.’
‘Our emperor demands that our coasts remain clear of thoroughfare. You are in breach of the law.’ The man’s voice is full and deep, with a crisp edge to it, indicating that he is not speaking his mother tongue.
Eliaz throws his hands up as if to say, ‘so what?’ before shouting back at him. ‘Then take us to the emperor and allow us to plead our case.’ And when the man takes a moment to reply he adds, ‘these guys are venomous right?’
The man’s features darken, Eliaz’s subtle threat irking him greatly. ‘The emperor does not take visitors, traveller.’
The Umbrian king shakes his head at the resistance of the men, then gestures both hands forward in a scooping motion, and the granphids rise to their feet and begin to stalk forward.
They growl at their own people, nine tails combined that jerk upwards.
The men exchange fearful glances, but the man in beige gestures them to calm.
‘I see no threat. Why? Do you?’ Eliaz jokes, laughing to himself.
‘We will not be swayed!’ the man shouts, his voice cracking with his anger.
‘You will take us to your emperor,’ Eliaz says calmly. The granphids are mere feet from the men now, snarling and snapping at them, sending a few falling backwards into the shrubbery.
‘Eliaz, that’s enough,’ Cole warns.
‘Take us to your emperor,’ Eliaz shouts, and one granphid lunges at the man in beige, slashing its paw, barely missing the man’s leg.
Eliaz throws a look backward to us, forehead creasing with his widened eyes, as an idea strikes, smugness exploding into his face.
He turns back to them, and I can tell from the shape of his words that he is smirking as he says them.
‘Tell him his son is here.’