Movement to both sides of the White Lady drew Cole’s attention away from the intoxicating sight. To her left, up on the dais with her, a gigantic black-skinned Sumnian stood with arms folded. To the right of the Magelord, a gangly woman of middling years cleared her throat and looked pensive.
‘Avert your eyes, maggot!’ commanded the massive warrior in an absurdly deep voice. He was head, shoulders and most of a chest taller than Cole, the biggest man the young Shard had ever set eyes on. Pink scars crisscrossed his prodigiously muscled body, which was naked from the waist up. The giant Sumnian carried a golden spear topped by a wickedly curved blade, and he pointed it at Cole before taking a single huge stride onto the first step leading down from the dais.
Cole felt very alone all of a sudden. The giant Sumnian took another step.
‘Enough, General,’ ordered the White Lady. Her voice was soft and perfectly modulated and carried effortlessly across the chamber. ‘Our guest is clearly unfamiliar with our customs.’ She turned her face to Cole and he gasped. Her eyes were a violet hue unlike any he had ever seen before.
‘In Thelassa, a man does not stare at a woman with such lust in his eyes. Not unless she welcomes the attention.’ She glanced at the massive Sumnian beside her, meeting his gaze and holding it for longer than was strictly necessary to make her point. The man’s answering smile was huge and proud. She turned back to Cole. ‘You will learn our ways in time.’
‘Heed the words of the mistress, maggot,’ the Sumnian said, gesturing again with his spear. ‘Or I will tear your eyes from their sockets.’
The White Lady lifted a perfect hand. ‘Thank you, General.’ She turned her gaze back to Cole. ‘I understand you were rescued from a Dorminian ship. What were you doing on the Swell?’
Cole took a deep breath. This was his moment. He needed to make a good impression. ‘We were sent there to mine for magic,’ he said. ‘Most of the men on board were prisoners and had no choice in the matter.’
‘You were one such prisoner?’
He nodded. ‘There were two ships. The Redemption and Red Bounty. I was on the former.’
‘My captain tells me the ships had become separated. It appears you were fleeing your captors before the Swell capsized you.’
Cole rolled his shoulders. ‘It turns out they’d bitten off more than they could chew with a few of the prisoners.’ He placed his hands together and pushed his palms outwards, giving his fingers a good crack for effect. ‘One in particular. Some men just refuse to be chained.’
The White Lady raised an eyebrow. The gesture was so ridiculously perfect that he couldn’t stop himself from ogling the Magelord with undisguised admiration. The Sumnian general scowled. ‘I warned you, maggot.’
Cole decided he’d had enough of being called a maggot.
‘My name is Davarus Cole,’ he declared. ‘I am the son of Illarius Cole, a hero of great renown. I was eight years old when I witnessed my father murdered by Salazar’s men. I swore that, one day, I would see the bastard dead. I stand before you not as an enemy — but as a friend.’
The woman to the right of the White Lady looked up suddenly. ‘Illarius Cole?’ she said. There was a strange edge to her voice, but her accent was unmistakably that of Dorminia.
The White Lady appeared not to have heard her. ‘I have three thousand Sumnian warriors under the command of brave General Zahn here. My spies in the Grey City provide all the intelligence I could possibly need. What can you offer that I don’t already have?’
Cole frowned. This wasn’t going quite as he had planned.
‘You’re probably not aware,’ he ventured, ‘but I belong to a rather important organization — a rebel group that opposes Salazar at every turn. The Shards. Your spies may have heard of us.’
The White Lady said nothing. She turned to the tall woman next to her, who whispered something and then shook her head.
‘It appears not,’ the Magelord said. Cole’s shoulders sagged.
There was a commotion behind him and suddenly Three-Finger was brought into the throne room and shoved forwards to stand beside Cole. His scabby face was covered in bruises and a stream of bloody snot dribbled from his right nostril. Clearly he had ignored the captain’s instructions not to attempt an escape.
‘And who is this?’ the White Lady asked.
‘His name’s Three-Finger,’ Cole replied quickly, before the convict had a chance to reply. ‘He’s my henchman.’
Three-Finger shot him an annoyed glance. ‘I’m not your henchman.’
Cole decided to ignore that. ‘Tell her how I saved you all, Three-Finger. Tell them about my plan.’
Three-Finger shrugged. ‘What do you want me to say? They don’t care about us, kid. Once we’re done being questioned they’ll have us both killed.’
The White Lady waved a finger and suddenly Three-Finger floated up into the air, his arms and legs pinned in place. He gasped and cursed as he rotated slowly around. The sight was almost comical.
‘You make a strange pair,’ the Magelord observed. ‘An arrogant youth and a rapist. I’ve always believed one can tell a person’s nature by the company they keep. Now, what to do with you both…’ She tapped a manicured finger against her perfect lips.
General Zahn smiled, revealing a mouth filled with golden teeth. He placed his spear on the floor. ‘Hand them each a blade,’ he pronounced as he straightened. ‘I’ll have at least one new scar to add to my collection before I put them out of their misery.’ He pointed at his massive chest, where knitted flesh formed a tapestry dedicated to countless battles won.
Cole gulped. Three-Finger was a large enough fellow, but General Zahn made even the Urich brothers look like children in comparison. He doubted whether a half-dozen trained soldiers could have overcome this huge Sumnian — with or without a weapon.
‘Wait.’
Everyone looked at the speaker. It was the scholarly woman with whom the White Lady had consulted a moment ago.
‘Forgive me, mistress, but this boy’s father was known to me. I would question him further, with your leave.’
The Magelord nodded her assent. General Zahn looked profoundly disappointed.
‘Tell me, Davarus Cole. What do you remember of your father?’ She was a remarkably plain woman, but there was a quiet strength to her that commanded respect.
‘I know that he was a great man,’ Cole replied proudly. Garrett had not spoken much of his father, probably out of shame that he had never managed to step out from his shadow. ‘He died fighting three Augmentors. Before he passed away he gave me his magical dagger, Magebane. It was his final gift. One day I shall use it to avenge his death.’
All of a sudden he remembered the green quartz crystal Garrett had presented to him when he joined the Shards. He had surrendered that particular gift himself, had hurled the crystal into a fire in a fit of anger. He regretted that now. Garrett wasn’t a great man like his father, but he had done the best he could.
He felt tears threatening. Embarrassment warred with sadness. Perhaps he had been unfair to the old merchant. He had the sudden urge to return to Dorminia and put things right between them.
‘And your mother?’ the woman continued, interrupting his moment of weakness. Get a hold of yourself, Cole thought. Heroes don’t cry.
‘She died giving birth to me.’
Sophia had been the only child of a successful shipwright. She and Cole’s father had met when they were both young. With her unfortunate death, Sophia had left her husband a considerable estate inherited from her own wealthy father. Illarius and young Davarus Cole had lived there alone but for their maid, who had helped raise him during his father’s frequent absences. He had never learned what exactly it was that his father did for a living. Not until the moment of his death.