Page 15 of The Last Knight (The Cursed Kingdom #5)
Chapter Eleven
The Yorian Realm
G enerals Joc and Kel urged their nervous, wooly steeds forward across the top of a narrow ridge.
In front and behind, their Torant escorts formed a single row.
There was no room for protection on their sides for fear of falling to a deep chasm, a combination of jagged rocks and swirling waters.
Steam from the water below rose, forming a hazy fog that added to the rather strange beauty of the surroundings.
This realm was nothing like from whence they came.
It was composed of what looked to be floating islands connected by bridges constructed of a white claylike substance.
Looking closer, it became evident that the land masses were inverted mountains that scaled downwards from a flat wide mass to jagged peaks that ultimately narrowed to a stem planted into whatever was far below.
The sky was a stark contrast from that of the Dark Realm.
Hues of orange, and reds filled one side of the expanse, whilst the other was made up of lateral shades of blues, from light to dark.
There were no moons or suns visible, yet light emanated from the reddish side giving the realm a surreal glow.
Their Yorian guides rode six-legged creatures that were much larger than their own huge mounts.
The creatures were obviously bred for war, with oversized fangs and a horn protruding from between their eyes.
The beasts’ muscular bodies were covered in thick black hide from the neck down to their legs. A gray hide enveloped the heads.
Attacks on the Yorians’ realm would prove very difficult as the only way to infiltrate would be crossing the bridge structures. Although an impressive array of spans, the Yorians could easily destroy them, making it impossible to reach them.
Following the Yori guides, they headed toward a large land mass in the center of the realm.
Upon it, a castle with high turrets that jutted to dizzying heights stood proud.
Much like their own ruler’s castle, Indros’ home was built to impress and intimidate.
Joc looked over his shoulder at Kel, whose expression reflected his thoughts.
There was no going back, the plan to remove the Dark Realm’s current unworthy ruler was about to be set in motion.
Upon arriving at the castle, they were greeted by the sight of hundreds of Yorian warriors, both mounted and on foot.
Joc took in the sight calculating that their armies were about equal.
The thoughts quickly vanished upon noting that, on two other land masses, just as many warriors stood watch.
If the Torants went to war against the Yorians, there was little doubt the Yori would win.
Why, then, had Indros not attacked their realm?
And, more importantly, would the Yorian ruler keep his word allowing Joc and Kel to share rulership of the Dark Realm?
After they dismounted, Kel waited for Joc to near and spoke in a soft tone. “We must convince Gunther to conjure double the warriors, if we are to stand a chance against them.”
“Yes, we must ensure to keep them from overtaking our realm,” Joc replied.
Just then, Indros emerged and stood at the entrance, not moving forward, expecting them to address him as he stood atop a flight of stairs asserting his position of power.
Together the generals fell to one knee bending their heads. That done, they ascended the stairs to begin the meeting that had been arranged during Indros’ visit.
Joc slid a look to Kel. One step at a time.
First they would overthrow Gunther. He would ensure to deliver the killing blow so that the powers would be his.
Then, he would dispense with Kel and become the ruler of the Dark Realm.
It would take careful and deliberate plans, but it was all falling into place.
His ultimate plan was to become ruler over the Yorian Realm as well. It was much more desirable than the Dark Realm.
“Welcome to Yorian,” Indros said upon them entering the throne room.
With towering ceilings and ornately decorated walls, the space exuded wealth.
The throne consisted of a high-back chair with a set of chrome wings that extended wide and high.
When the ruler sat upon the seat, it would look as if he bore wings.
Joc studied the mural behind it, which consisted of a battle scene . Interesting.
Indros wore intricately embroidered burgundy robes over loose fitting leg covers of the same color. He went to the throne and lowered himself upon it.
“Please sit,” Indros motioned Joc and Kel to a pair of chairs that had been set facing the throne behind a table that was covered with platters of food and pitchers of drink.
Without waiting for them to finished settling, Indros motioned to the female.
“This is my wife Sundi.” Sitting on the left side of the throne was a beautiful female.
She had flawless dark brown skin, amber eyes and long black silken tresses that were wrapped in golden threads.
The female, dressed in flowing soft robing, studied them without expression.
The ruler motioned to a male on his right who remained standing in front of his chair.
“He is my brother Rondo.” The male was dressed similarly to Indros, only his clothes were not embroidered.
He stood in front of his seat, arms crossed.
He had the same coloring as Indros and Sundi, except his eyes were gray.
The brother’s eyes narrowed. He turned to look at Indros. “Why are we hosting Torants?”
“Because we have a mutual interest at the moment,” Indros replied patiently. “Sit, brother, so we can commence with discussions.”
Rondo looked each of the generals in the eyes. It was not hard to read what he thought in regard to their presence. The male would gladly spear them without a second thought.
Sundi rang a bell and immediately three pairs of servants rushed over holding trays, which they held in front of the trio.
Indros plucked something from his tray and ate it.
Only then did the two flanking him begin to eat and drink.
The servants remained still, allowing them to eat from the trays they held.
A second set of servants brought food and placed it on the table in front of the generals. By the looks of disgust, even the servants did not care for their presence.
As it would be insulting not to eat, Joc and Kel ate from the offerings, which were not the Torant’s usual fare that consisted mainly of meat and root bulbs.
The fare before them was elaborately constructed from greens and brightly colored floral dishes.
The only meat was sliced so thinly, it was hard to identify.
As was their custom, Joc and Kel ignoring the eating utensils and ate with their hands, not caring about the curious study of the Yorian rulers and others who stood around the room.
“I can easily guess why you came seeking my counsel. What I do not understand is why you would feel compelled to,” Indros stated.
Joc swallowed the food in his mouth, wiping it with the back of his hand. “You proposed a joining of the realms upon your visit to our ruler. With that in mind, we come to offer something along the lines of an alliance if you assist us in trouncing the unworthy male who sits upon our throne.”
“What type of assistance?” Rondo asked. “Why would we help you?” Something akin to disgust dripped from the statement.
Kel huffed. “We are here as a result of your brother’s visit. Gunther has no plans for any kind of a pact between our realms.” He turned his attention to Indros. “Is part of your plan to eventually overtake both realms?”
The direct question seemed to take Indros by surprise as he hesitated, a goblet halfway to his mouth.
He gave a one shouldered shrug, drank from the cup and placed it back on the tray.
“The thought has crossed my mind. Although I must admit noticing how very dreary and dank the realm is. I am not sure there is anything to gain from the Dark Realm.”
But on the land beyond there was much to gain.
The lighter realms beyond were rich with minerals, jewels and lush lands.
It was those realms that Indros sought to take over.
Other than to add Torants into his army, the Dark Realm would provide the bridge between the Yorian and the more desirable realms.
The thought of Indros taking over the army made Joc hesitate.
If he was to do this right, he would have to ensure to keep power over the Dark Realm and the forces within.
Killing Gunther would mean the dominant dark powers would fill him and, with that, he could easily defend the realm.
The darkness was powerful and stronger than any other magic in the lands.
What an idiot Gunther was not to allow it free rein.
And yet, it was that reluctance that would be his downfall and prove fortunate for Joc.
Indros waved the servants with trays away. “Send in the scribe,” he said to a nearby guard. “Where is she by the way?”
The guard looked to Sundi, who shrugged. “She died.”
Indros laughed and spoke to the generals.
“My wife is quite possessive. I do have to spend long private times with a scribe.” He turned to Sundi.
“I will indulge you this once, but no more. Having a scribe for a longer period ensures proper records are kept. As it is, no one wishes for the post. Whether male or female, you have found ways to…er remove them.”
Sundi didn’t seem at all bothered by the chastisement, instead, she looked toward the entrance as an older male was ushered in.
The male didn’t seem intimidated. He walked directly to the throne, bowed first to Indros, then secondly to Sundi. “I am called Basdin, your highness,” he stated in a clear voice.
Sundi’s smile reached her eyes. “Basdin! I have not seen you in years. How clever they are to appoint you as scribe.” She clapped and beamed at Indros. “Basdin is my cousin and childhood confidant.”
Basdin looked much older than Sundi, so Joc surmised the female had used magic to retain her youthful appearance.
The new scribe went to stand at a chair behind a small table and waited to be instructed to sit.
Indros indicated for the male to sit and then turned his attention back to the generals. “The Torants are here on behalf of the Dark Realm. They request our assistance in overthrowing their ruler and becoming the rulers themselves.” Indros hesitated, studying both Joc and Kel.
“Although I suspect one will kill the other to gain ultimate control.”
Joc’s heart hammered in his chest. Of course, why had he not guarded his thoughts? Indros could read minds. Instead of reacting he shook his head as if thinking the claim ridiculous and looked to Kel. “Do you plan to kill me then?”
At Kel’s flat gaze, he wasn’t sure what to think.
Instead, he spoke to Indros. “There is no reason why Kel and I cannot share overseeing the Dark Realm. Of course, whomever delivers the killing blow will absorb Gunther’s powers.
But then the other will assume the role of chief council. Absolute power over the army.”
“As you say,” Indros replied and returned his attention to the scribe. “Add General Joc’s comments to the scroll.”
The ruler rose from the throne, his robes flowing behind him as he paced across the room like a wolf circling prey. “Let’s hear it. I have my own designs, but I’m curious what sort of treachery you’d suggest first.”
“We need you as a distraction,” came Joc’s cold reply.
“Gunther still expects your return. His attention, and his power, will be fixed on you and your guards. That gives one of us the perfect opportunity to strike. Once he’s dead, we honor the agreement of a safe passage through the Dark Realm to wherever it is you truly want to go.
But not our realm, that will remain ours. ”
Indros gave a slow, deliberate shake of his head, the barest hint of a sneer curling his lip. “We have no interest in your cursed realm. It’s Esland we want. The nether border has proven…inconvenient. You lot can keep your shadows and rotting soil.”
Kel narrowed his eyes, heat sparking behind them. The insult wasn’t subtle. “No one breaks through Esland’s defenses. Not even with your large number of warriors, and certainly not with your lumbering beasts.”
A flicker of amusement crossed Indros’ face. “Yes, yes. The mighty dragons of Esland. Breathing fire and noble nonsense. Spare me your opinions. I only need a crack in the wall; something your realm’s endless mists have thus far denied me.”
Joc leaned forward, his voice low and hard. “Even if we permit you through our borders, the mists bordering Esland devour anyone who enters. Magic fails. Men vanish. You wouldn’t last a suns rise.”
Indros waved a hand dismissively, as if already bored with the discussion. “There’s another way. A less…sanctioned path, which cuts through a sliver of the Sisters’ realm. But that’s my concern, not yours,” he said referring to Atlandia.
He met both Kel and Joc’s eyes head-on, his voice laced with mockery. “Just play your part, generals. Be a martyr, or a victor, whichever suits you best. I don’t care, as long as Gunther dies.”
Prince Stirling’s sisters Esmeralda and Rubiana ruled over the largest realm, Atlandia, an area that was as beautiful as it was deadly.
During the cold season, a storm called ‘the icing’ struck daily across most of it.
Only wolf sentinels and shifters native to the realm could survive the onslaught of the cutting ice that fell from the skies and the frigid temperatures.
Both Joc and Kel expected that Indros was not interested in their realm because of the icing, Yorian warriors could not survive it.
In a way, Atlandia could be considered a wasteland, if not for the fact that every day the land thrived, as the icing did not kill native flora or animals.
To Torants, the Dark Realm was filled with treasures of magic, of creatures and landscapes that existed nowhere else. It was the homeland of their species and although not beautiful it was where all Torants were born and hoped to die.
“I will visit at the passing of the allotted time. Whether your plan is successful or not is to be seen.” Indros walked toward a set of windows, his back to them.
Joc and Kel stood, at the signaling the meeting had come to an end.