Chapter 17 #2
Richard smiled. This was what he had once dreamt of as a boy. True communion between different lands, different people. Perhaps such bonds would not last, but tonight at least, in this great hall, they held.
On the second table, Ravi fed Kaelen a grape, and Richard fought back a sneer. Some bonds certainly proved more troublesome than others.
Vikram crossed his legs and leaned back. “We have dined well, Sun King, and I have enjoyed the company, but let us come to the purpose for which you gathered us at this table.”
The table stilled, and Seola scoffed.
“Oh, enough dancing around.” She swigged from her goblet and belched. “The harpy came to my mother’s court two months past. Foul, bedraggled thing, squawking of veiled threats. Spoke of her king beyond the veil. Spoke of his intent to march on Ardenia.”
The Lumeron tingled, and Richard dug his nails into his thigh.
“My mother was already in mourning for a ship of fishermen lost to the Great Squid. Her temper burned red, and so, you cannot blame her for seizing the bird by the neck and commanding the kitchens to start a basting glaze.” Seola cackled. “The bird barely escaped through a window.”
A wave of fondness surged through Richard. He gave her a smile and turned to Vikram. “Your Majesty. I suspect the harpy visited your court as well.”
“A harpy did arrive in Naradesh, yes.” Vikram shrugged.
The evasiveness rankled, but Richard kept his face composed.
“Then I shall not waste your time with pleasantries.” He looked around the table.
“The harpy spoke the truth. King Galdran amasses an army behind a barrier that will soon fall. When it does, Galdran’s forces will pour into Ardenia. And Ardenia, alone, cannot hold.”
The music played on, interspersed with loud giggles from children.
“I need your help.” Richard clenched his jaw. “As does my realm.”
“Such terrible news you bring, Sun King,” Orric said. “I must consult with my own.” His voice gentled. “But I will be honest with you. Even if the pack agrees, we number fifty fighting wolves. One hundred if the bear-shifters also agree. In a war of thousands, it is unlikely to turn the tide.”
Myrafrond nodded, leaves rustling. “And we are dryads. Tree folk. We tend and we seed, we guard, and we grow.”
Richard chewed his lip. They were right. “Any support would prove valuable.”
He turned to Vikram and caught the Naradeshi king exchanging glances with General Lakshmi.
“Sun King.” Vikram folded his arms. “You will lose.”
Richard stifled a flinch, and Dain stormed to his feet.
“Ardenia will not bloody lose—”
“Sit, Lord Commander,” Vikram said. Though he did not raise his voice, his tone was that of a man accustomed to being obeyed.
Dain bristled, beard twitching. Under the table, Richard patted his knee, and Dain sank into his seat with a mutter.
“Your Majesty,” Richard said, “there is no reason Ardenia must lose if we stand with friends.”
Vikram circled the rim of his goblet with a finger. “The world is no simple place for fairytales, Sun King.” His eyes glinted. “That is why the Estaran king is not in attendance today.”
Richard stiffened. “Estara’s absence may be due to any number of—”
Vikram raised a hand, and Richard fell silent.
“You are not a foolish man. And because I do not think you a fool, I shall explain.”
The hall’s clamour seemed suddenly too distant, drowned out by the thunder of Richard’s pulse.
“The veil that keeps Gloamvarn in acts too as its shield. You cannot scout, sabotage, or send assassins. Until the veil falls, Galdran is untouchable.” Vikram lifted a brow at Richard. “Moreover, you have hidden an important matter from your statement.”
Richard looked away from his gaze. So Vikram knew already of the omission. How—
Of course. The damn harpy.
“Yes,” Vikram said softly. “The harpy told me. Galdran will choose the hour at which the veil collapses. You are blind to when the battle will begin. You do not know whether your allies will have reached your border in time, whether ships may cross, whether provisions shall hold, or whether your enemy will strike in winter, flood, famine, or sickness. The logistics of gathering your allies in time are impossible. And the chance of winning against the creatures of Gloamvarn, if the tales bear a shred of truth, is close to none.” He jutted his chin up.
“Are you fool enough to tell me otherwise?”
Richard swallowed hard. Not a word Vikram had uttered was false.
“Help us, Your Majesty!” Malgrin lurched to his feet. “If you, great king, see the odds so clearly, please help us alter them. Naradesh’s armies, its ships, its tacticians—surely such strength might turn the tide.”
Richard gaped at Malgrin. In all his years beneath the man’s sharp tongue and sharper judgement, he had never seen the old fox plead.
And yet, there he bowed, arms trembling, almost prostrated across the table.
Vikram regarded Malgrin with a lazy sigh. “Lord Chancellor, I will not spill Naradeshi blood for a war with a predestined end.”
Seola slammed her palm on the table, rattling the goblets.
“Well, I say otherwise! No man, woman or beast knows where the cave leads until they follow it through! Frostheim has long stood with Ardenia, and we shall not stop now.” She cracked her knuckles.
“Let Gloamvarn choke on Frostheim steel. I have not had a worthy fight since the giants took my helmsman last winter, and I am hungry.”
Richard’s shoulders sagged. One. Ardenia held one ally on the battlefield, at least. “Frostheim’s loyalty has never been in doubt, old friend, and nor shall it ever be forgotten.”
She waved it aside. “Send word. My mother will fill the sea with longboats, and I shall stand at the prow of the first.”
“My lady,” Ragnar groaned. “Try, if you please, to sound somewhat reluctant to meet slaughter.”
“Never.”
Richard licked his dry lips, steadying himself. There was more to say.
“There is another complication.” Richard’s temples throbbed.
“One that concerns all the Seven Realms, not only Ardenia. Rot is spreading, my friends, from beyond the veil. Already, it has tainted our western borderlands. It sickens the Threads far below our feet. Left unchecked, it will spread through all seven realms.”
Ignoring the looks of fear and surprise dawning on the foreign dignitaries, Richard pressed on.
“Rot has blighted the First Tree, the origin of all magic, which resides in Gloamvarn. Now, Rot spreads through the roots of the First Tree—what we call Threads. Only one thing will halt the spread—the hearts of the First Creatures. They must be returned to the First Tree, or else Rot will continue past borders, and people, beasts, crops, rivers—all it touches will warp to terror.”
Orric’s brow furrowed. “Near Gloamvarn’s edge, I have heard recently of foul stories. A deer born with too many eyes that feasted on its herd. Streams that turned brackish overnight.” He patted a horrified-looking Myrafrond’s hand. “I had not guessed it was this.”
Vikram appeared calm. “And these First Creatures?”
Richard summarised the Queen of Nightbourne’s account—of the Tree, the hearts and the known creatures.
“Galdran has a unicorn,” he explained. “We know of an eight-legged siren on an island near Estara. A naga within the seas of Naradesh. A phoenix, I believe, is trapped in Gloamvarn. And two others we are blind yet as to.”
“The naga,” General Lakshmi said briskly. “Naradesh will investigate it. I shall see to it myself.”
Seola glanced at Ragnar. “The Great Squid. The beast that drags ships to the depths and devours fishermen whole. Could it be a First Creature?”
Ragnar hummed. “The sagas do call it a creature older than the first frost-clan. An ancient thing from before the world had shores.” He blew out a noisy exhale. “We will deliberate with the Queen and the Olden Council. If there is a heart to be claimed from the deep, Frostheim will claim it.”
Richard massaged his right temple, willing the pounding to ease. “Thank you. All of you.”
The gratitude was the truth. Though Galdran remained Ardenia’s biggest threat, Rot—this corruption that left such devastation, that warped a faceless man, that made a babe claw out of its mother—had to be entirely destroyed. Even if Ardenia was to be conquered, Rot had to be—
With a trembling hand, Richard reached for his goblet and downed it. The wine tasted stale, and staler still as he glimpsed his knight’s brilliant smile at another man.