“It should be fascinating seeing the home of the great wizard of Lothion,” commented King Nicholas as we stepped away from the teleportation circle. For a moment I suspected him of sarcasm, but after a second’s pause, I realized he was speaking in sincerity. He must have seen the pensive look on my face though, for he followed his remark with a preemptive apology, “Please, do not look for hidden meanings in my words. I feel terrible for my foolish words at the feast. Yet again I am in debt to you and your valiant wife.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, “She really is something isn’t she?”
He smiled, “I have never met her equal.”
I laughed, “You may well be correct, but then you’ve never seen our Queen Genevieve when she gets really cross either.”
“If all of the women of Lothion are as frightful in battle, your nation will never need fear another invader,” he added.
My lady wife, the Countess di’Cameron, made her appearance at that moment, greeting us as we stepped out of the building that housed my teleportation circles. “You honor us with your presence, Your Majesty,” she said with a formal curtsey.
“Raise your head Countess!” he responded immediately, while stepping forward to take her hand and lift her. He held onto her hand long enough to lean forward and kiss the back of it. Meanwhile, Sir Barnabas went to one knee beside him, facing her.
“I owe you my life Countess,” said Nicholas. “It is I who should be showing deference.”
I could tell Penny was profoundly uncomfortable receiving such attention from a king, but she covered her surprise well. “Please, Your Majesty, you do me too much honor. Call me Penelope; there is no need to address me with titles here.”
“Then you too must address me as Nicholas, for otherwise I will feel ill at ease with your hospitality,” he answered. I noted he still held her hand. He was perhaps a bit too forward with Penny for my comfort.
She withdrew her hand carefully, without making a show of it, though to my eyes it seemed that the King of Gododdin let his fingers linger too long upon hers. Surely the man isn’t trying to woo my wife right in front of me? I supposed I shouldn’t underestimate the boldness of royalty. If the man were a womanizer, he might be used to husbands turning a blind eye to his indiscretions. Perhaps I was overthinking it though… it was impossible to guess.
“I will gladly call you thus, Nicholas, but only if you tell me what mention you just made of invaders in Lothion, but a moment past,” Penny replied.
With that the conversation returned to lighter banter and I found myself admiring Penny’s skillful handling of the overly friendly king. My thoughts were interrupted before we reached the entrance to the main keep. A man in grey wool stood before the door. His stance was unremarkable, but his positioning was not, for he blocked our path. Every man, woman and child in the keep knew better than to interrupt me with our royal visitor, yet this man… a stranger I noted quickly, stood plainly in our way.
We stopped and the two guards flanking us moved forward to stand between us and the bold outsider. At the same time the two door guards came toward us and took positions behind the man, warily encircling him. Dorian had been very thorough in his security preparations. I also noted that two of the four guards were actually Knights of Stone, Sir Daniel and Sir Jeffery.
The stranger was the first to speak, throwing back his hood and staring at us with wild eyes. “I come bearing a warning for the dark wizard, Mordecai Illeniel.”
I had already extended my shield to cover Penelope and King Nicholas when the latter spoke in return, “Cheeky devil! How dare you address the rightful lord of this place in such a tone?!”
It was rather amusing, considering I had the King of Gododdin addressing the challenger as though he were my chamberlain. Setting my hand upon his arm I spoke quickly, “Please, Nicholas let me deal with this.”
He nodded quickly, “Very well, this is your house,” and then stepped back.
“You do well to listen to your master, puppet-king of Gododdin,” the stranger taunted him. Nicholas’ face turned a new shade of red, while Sir Barnabas surged forward, intent on punishing the man for the affront to his king. I kept the boundary of my shield fixed, and he fell back when he struck it, surprised at finding an invisible wall in front of him.
“Offend my guests again, and your god will need to send a new messenger,” I said to the stranger, while ignoring Barnabas as he rose from where he had fallen.
The messenger smirked before replying, “What makes you think I need messengers, Mordecai?”
The words, combined with a flare of power around the man, signaled his complete possession by whichever of the gods he served. I nodded to Sir Daniel, and he and Sir Jeffery moved with lightning speed and precision. Their swords came out more quickly than eyes could follow, and I saw little more than a flash of light from the enchanted steel before the stranger’s body fell apart in a shocking display of violence. His head tumbled away in one direction, while his torso and two dismembered legs collapsed where he had been standing. Blood was everywhere.
The suddenness of his death appeared to unnerve even the already enraged Sir Barnabas, but his eyes grew wider still, when the disembodied head’s eyes focused on me again and words issued from its lips, “That was rather rude.” The eyes then moved to gaze at King Nicholas, “Perhaps you see now why I referred to him as the ‘dark’ wizard.”
I glared at the impudent face, “Finish your message before we discover whether you can function with nothing more than ash to carry out your will.” I illustrated my point by waving a hand at the rest of the now dismembered body while softly vocalizing, “Pyrren.” Flames rapidly consumed the flesh in a flash of intense heat that left nothing behind but a foul smoke and white ash.
“It matters not to me what you do with this vessel. As you are aware, we no longer need your kind to serve as our conduits here. This is merely a courtesy call,” the bodiless head told me.
“You haven’t the faintest idea what courtesy is. For your kind, it is nothing more than another empty word to be used in manipulating your cattle. You’ll also have to pardon me, for since you didn’t bother introducing yourself, I have not the faintest idea which of the remaining petty gods you are,” I responded acridly.
The eyes narrowed as the still animated head stared upward at me. “Mellicenth was right; there is no bargaining with you. I am Karenth, called the Just, and I am here to offer you one chance: release Celior, and we will ignore your past insults. Otherwise, we will wipe the earth clean of you and all your kith and kin. Nothing will remain when we are done, and not one soul will be left that remembers your name, even if we must purge all of Lothion to accomplish the task.”
I laughed, “You are the worst beggar I have ever met. You’re desperate or you’d never deign to make such an offer. I will be happy to show you my brand of courtesy if you decide to come here personally and make good upon your threat. You would make an excellent addition to my collection, Karenth.” I was goading him deliberately, for I couldn’t afford to show any weakness. The only thing that might give them pause was the fear that I might be able to do the same to them that I had done to Celior.
Rage lit his eyes. “I will not come alone. I do not understand how you defeated my brother, but I will not make his mistake. When we come, there will be no place for you to hide and no hope for anything but a slow death… after you have watched us torture your worthless spawn.”
In my younger days such a threat might have overwhelmed my better sense, but I knew the game Karenth was playing. I could also tell he had not the faintest clue about the subtleties of the human mind. I paused for a moment before answering thoughtfully, “You may have a point, but I am not yet ready to concede. I will consider your offer. How long will you give me to think before you make good upon your threat?”