Theron's joviality faded, and his voice lowered when he spoke. "I would not believe a word of what you say, but for not what I have seen with my own freezing eyes."
He leaned back and addressed not only Marcellus, but also the entire Hall. "When but a lad in my first service under mighty Mahon, we did patrol the borders against the last real clan of Jonarr. Good days, those were. Once, we encountered a band of savages in the night, or so we did think. But men they were not. They took mortal wounds and kept fighting, and did have the strength of ten Norlanders. An entire battalion of the king's hardiest warriors were slain before we found out the only way to kill them was to take their freezing heads off — no easy task for even the hardiest warrior."
His expression turned grave. "Now you say they have again returned."
Marcellus nodded. "In far more numbers than you encountered. And more organized than you could imagine. I don't have all the answers. But I do know that these akhkharu want control of our kingdoms. Glacia has always been our rival, perhaps because you are the only one of the great kingdoms as powerful as we. If Leodia falls, it is not hard to figure who will be next. I beg of you to consider that."
Theron waved away his advisors, who had crept up on either side of him like robed grasshoppers. "Your tale does be too ridiculous to be a lie, so I will consider your words. You say these harrow men are in my Hall? Prove your tale by bringing me one of your wraiths. If your story be true, you will have mighty Theron of Glacia as your ally. But if treachery is what you speak, an icy doom will await you and all who stand with you."
"As the king commands." Marcellus nodded to Nyori.
All eyes turned to her as she stepped forward. She had taken great care to prepare herself for the audience. Her golden brown hair hung loose for once, brushed until it shimmered. Her olive dress of crushed velvet with long bell sleeves was trimmed in wine red braiding, complimented by a hip belt imprinted with golden leaves. A modest contrast to the loose style of the Norland women, but the colors complimented her skin tone, and the gown gave her a regal bearing as she raised her crystalline staff. The candlelight cast the staff in shades of fire, throwing shards of color around the room and winking off the diadem across her brow.
Marcellus had never seen her more beautiful.
Her voice echoed in the hall. "You should look no further than your own company, your Majesty."
The Norlanders buzzed when the orb flared, brightening the room far more than the candlelit chandeliers could. The buzz grew to a roar when the light touched the councilors that stood on either side of the king.
Dugfuss shielded his eyes, but it was Eldgrimr who visibly altered under the revealing rays. His visage became indistinct, as though flesh became transparent and revealed the monster inside. Only a shifting phantomlike creature was visible, just like the false Evelina in Marcellus' manor. It stared at Nyori in dismayed outrage. A shriek erupted from its throat, the cry piercing and inhuman.
Pandemonium erupted as the Norlanders leaped to their feet, shouting in rage and confusion. The clamor of their outcries was deafening, but all Marcellus heard was the thunder of hooves in the darkness.
The Night Mare screamed as she came for him.
Chapter 44: Nyori
The entire hall rose with weapons drawn as Eldgrimr was exposed for the monster that he was. The enraged guards bellowed, pinning the false councilor to the wall with their heavy-tipped spears. As Eldgrimr howled, his entire appearance altered with a wavering ripple of distorted light. The hall gasped. A dark-haired young man replaced the visage of the elderly councilor. His eyes flashed as he furiously yanked at the spears that had impaled him.
Nyori stepped closer, bathed in golden light. "You cannot hide from me, akhkharu. I knew you for what you are as soon as we entered this hall. There is no face you can wear that my other Eye cannot see."
"Pitiful domestic." Blood bubbled on the false Eldgrimr's lips. "All the vision in the world cannot save you from your destruction. You could not save your own king. Nor will you save this one."
"Do you speak of your hidden conspirators? I have seen them as well." Eymunder's orb brightened further, bathing the entire chamber in its amber glow.
Voices shouted in alarm. At several tables, more disguised Norlanders' guises were exposed. The ghastly creatures that writhed in the light leaped up with wild howls at their discovery. The reaction was swift. Warriors snatched up weapons as the akhkharu attacked with wild screams. The Norlanders roared and eagerly answered in kind.
Fregeror pulled Nyori back as he looked around for a weapon. It did not take him long — blades seemed to be the only decor the Norlanders believed in.
"Behind me, Shama. I mean to let none of these monsters pass. Keep your enchanted staff alit, so that we may see whom we mean to slay."
Looking at the carnage around her, Nyori could not find the will to argue. The entire hall heaved; a mass of shifting, roaring bodies clashed against each other. Eymunder's revealing light was the only aid to tell friend from foe, and anything else she could think of would damage her newfound allies as much as their enemies.
Eldgrimr stared at Theron with bitter hatred as a smile twisted his bloodstained lips. "You have reached the end of your days as king of your petty kingdom, Theron of Norland. You die tonight."
Theron roared and swung his weapon of the moment: the heavy tankard in his hand. The akhkharu's head disintegrated in an explosion of blood and foamy ale. As flames devoured the body, Theron turned and raised the ruined goblet to the fray of battling bodies as if in salute.
Marcellus looked as if to go to Nyori, but was flung back when another false Norlander tossed the heavy table aside as if it were weightless. Dishes and chalices shattered, and the piles of food fell to the wooden floor. Theron was one of the largest men in the room, but the akhkharu easily hoisted him off his feet and slammed him against the wall. His snarl was feral as his fingers tightened around Theron's throat.
Theron gurgled. "You…wear the face of…my cousin?"
The false Norlander grinned. "Your cousin was easy prey. And what say you, mighty king? No clever jests to be your last words?"
Theron's heavy hands wrapped around the akhkharu's neck and twisted, snapping it as he would a piece of dry bread. "Not when my hands do the talking for me, eh?"
The wraith laughed in a sickly manner despite the injury, popping his neck back into place with a savage twist. His face distorted in a leering grin. "Come now 'cousin.' You can do better than that."
Theron bent and seized a heavy cleaver that jutted from a roast pig. With a brutal swing, he lopped the akhkharu's laughing head from his shoulders.
"Aye, cousin—you be correct!"
The Norlanders fought the akhkharu with almost joyful enthusiasm. The sheer press pushed against Fregeror, who swung a flanged mace at the nearest attacker. Nyori cringed as the protruding edges burst the akhkharu's head apart. The blood and brains became soot and ash by the time it spattered against the wall.
On the other side of her, Theron swung the cleaver with the enthusiasm of a mad butcher. An equally large Norlander leaped on his back. Theron stabbed awkwardly, but the akhkharu easily dodged the clumsy thrusts.
Nyori dashed forward with Eymunder flaring in her hands. The akhkharu howled when the flashing orb struck. As it scrabbled like a wounded animal, Han flowed between the shifting masses and removed the akhkharu's head with a swing of his glittering sword.