Page 5 of The Last Knight (The Cursed Kingdom #5)

Chapter Five

T he Torant generals of his army, Kel and Joc, stood before Gunther with reports of observations after patrolling the realm.

The older, Kel, spoke, his deep voice muffled by long incisors that grew over his bottom lip.

“The Atlandians have fortified their borders. Twice the number of sentinels keep guard.”

“The border to the north remains the same,” Joc stated, referring to the Yorian Realm, which was inhabited by beings called Yori, that resembled the Torants, except that they were not as large and had a blueish tint to their skin. They were ruled by a Yori called Indros.

There were loud bangs on the entry door and one of his guards opened it to a warrior who hurried to where Gunther sat and lowered to one knee. “Master, you have a visitor. The ruler of Yorian approaches. He will enter the courtyard any moment now.”

He hated to be called Master, but let it slide. After all, it seemed he had more pressing concerns.

“Did you know about this?” he asked the two leaders who stood before him. “How did he enter the realm without me being informed immediately?”

The Torants exchanged looks that he couldn’t decipher. Upon delving into their minds, he knew that they’d hoped to meet with the Yori before Gunther was told of their arrival.

“Our scouts had not returned by the time we came to speak to you,” Joc said, his expression blank.

Brushing past them, Gunther walked toward the castle entrance to greet the ruler.

Whatever the Yori came to speak to him about would probably not be welcome.

Although he’d never been privy to what happened when Meliot and Indros spoke, he did witness Meliot’s angry rages upon the other ruler leaving.

Gunther arrived at the entrance and stood at the top of the stairs flanked by three guards on each side, the two generals at his back.

More warriors, three men deep, lined up across the courtyard.

Centaur-like beings were poised, bows taut, arrows notched atop the courtyard walls, prepared for any suspicious movement.

The leader of the Yorian Realm rode through the gates, surrounded by guards, albeit at a disadvantage as they were an easy target for Gunther’s archers.

The Yori dismounted and, leaving his guard behind, strolled toward Gunther with the long, steady strides of a self-assured and powerful ruler, one without fear.

Gunther held the Yori’s gaze, unwavering.

Although unsure of the reason for the visit or the ruler’s intentions, he wasn’t intimidated by Indros.

Wearing an ostentatious golden breastplate over his tunic and a crown of the same metal, embedded with jewels on his head as well as a long deep red velvety cape that cascaded from his shoulders, Indros was the embodiment of a king.

The Yorian was tall and slender, but with wide shoulders. His skin was dark, the color of coffee. With silken, straight black hair that fell past his shoulders and bright amber eyes, the male was striking.

“I hear you wish to be called Gunther,” Indros greeted.

“If that is the case, you may call me Indros.” He hesitated before ascending the steps and looked around, scanning the courtyard, his gaze hesitating only slightly atop the walls.

Then, at flicking a finger, he magically caused every centaur to lower their bows.

“I do not wish to be speared by an errant arrow today.”

Indros turned to Gunther and chuckled. “They are very gullible creatures, as you may have already found.”

Gunther’s generals moved into formation beside him, their expressions grim, their annoyed grunts betraying their anger at an outsider controlling their soldiers.

Indros’ taunts were, bait, they’d failed miserably.

But Gunther remained still, unaffected. He refused to give the Yori the satisfaction of a reaction.

Instead, he flicked his gaze toward the ramparts.

As if in silent response, every archer shifted back into their precise positions, the coordinated movement sharp as a blade drawn.

Gunther’s magic threaded through their minds like steel wire, firm, focused, immune to outside influence.

Even as he descended the stone steps, his power held steady, reinforcing their discipline with every stride.

At last, the two rulers stood face to face.

Indros straightened, spine rigid, clearly trying to appear taller. But even posturing at full height, he remained shorter than Gunther. Small victories.

“Welcome to my realm,” Gunther said, his voice dry. He gestured toward the open archway with a slow, deliberate hand. “Please. Enter. I trust you remember the way to the throne room.”

Indros’ gaze swept over him, slow and assessing, as if dissecting him inch by inch. When his eyes met Gunther’s, his lip curled.

“I wasn’t aware you were human,” he said, his voice low and laced with repugnance. “How…unexpected.”

Gunther didn’t flinch. Of course the Yori knew. News of his humanity had been whispered through every realm since Meliot’s fall. It was an open secret. A point of weakness? Or perhaps a reason to fear. It hadn’t been decided.

Instead of a reply, Gunther gave a slight nod, and he allowed the corners of his mouth to lift just a bit. “Indeed I am.”

They made their way back through the same corridor, this time flanked by not only Gunther’s guard team, but also Indros’.

Once inside the throne room, Indros swept his cloak around dramatically, then snapped his fingers, calling forth one of the guardsmen who removed the garment and carefully folded it over his left forearm.

When Indros looked at the guard, the soldier bowed and backed away, joining the other Yori guards, who stood in a line, still as statues.

Gunther went to stand next to one of the chairs on opposite sides of a long table. The Yori ignored him and instead walked toward the window, peering out at the dark expanse.

“Interesting outcome to Meliot’s demise. The late ruler hated humans from your realm as you may be aware.”

“I am aware,” Gunther replied. “So do most of the inhabitants of these realms.”

The Yori shrugged and turned to face him. “I have never cared for what others think. I have a mind of my own. I give others the benefit of the doubt before judging.”

Gunther wanted to shake his head at the male’s statement, but instead he lowered to sit.

Finally, Indros deemed it time to sit. Servants brought forth trays piled with food and tankards of ale as Indros continued to study both Gunther and the surroundings. “You have not changed anything. It is all as it was or should be.”

Obviously, the male was doing his best to antagonize him. If nothing else, decades as a slave had stripped him of everything, including his ability to be affected by insults. “It is not a priority. What about you? Was that the first thing you saw to upon becoming ruler? Redecoration?”

By the flare of the male’s nostrils, the barb hit home.

Gunther motioned for the generals to join them on one side of the table, whilst Indros’ men sat opposite them.

“I wish to speak to you about a matter Meliot and I had been discussing before his…untimely death.” Indros said, lifting the tankard to his mouth and drinking.

Gunther did the same, then placed his tankard down. He spoke in a calm but steady voice. “Any agreements made between you and Meliot are no longer valid.”

“It is an agreement between realms; will you not stand by it?” Indros pretended indignation.

“We can discuss it at a later date. As you have stated, I am human and therefore have a lot to learn.”

“We were to join forces, fight against Esland and overthrow Sterling. Already my forces are near their northern border,” Indros continued speaking as if Gunther had not said anything. “Surely you are aware of the riches within that realm.”

Sterling had not mentioned the threat from the Yorians.

In all possibility because the trust between them stood on shaky ground since Gunther’s ascension to rule an enemy realm.

The Eslandians were a formidable force. With huge war beasts called Aurocks and a fleet of dragons, they were pretty much invincible.

“The Yorian Realm is the largest. What difference would it make to invade Esland? Not to mention that my realm stands between yours and Esland. Which means, any attempts to oversee that realm would mean having to traverse through mine.”

Indros gave him a patronizing look, as if explaining to a child. “Meliot understood the need for our realms to protect themselves from Eslandian invasion. Sterling is power hungry. My sources have told me he has his sights set on your realm.”

It was a lie. Sterling had no interest in a realm with no redeeming qualities. Not only was the land barren, but no creatures other than Torants could ever thrive there.

Gunther kept those facts to himself and said instead, “Anyone who wars against Esland, must be thoroughly prepared. Their warriors have never been beaten in any war. A worthy opponent would have to have beasts powerful enough to battle against Aurocks, which have hides of impenetrable scales and are bred for war. Those foolish enough to attack Esland would lose a huge portion of their army to the dragons’ fiery assaults, leaving their realm vulnerable to other invasions.

An excellent opportunity to be overtaken, I will say. ”

Gunther flickered a look toward his Torant guards as he finished, noting Indros’ face hardened to stone.

Apparently, Indros had not expected Gunther to know anything about Esland.

Foolish thing to come into a discussion about war without knowing your opponent’s strengths.

It was certain, the Yori planned to take advantage of a supposed invasion and somehow unseat Gunther from his throne.

Not entirely horrible, except for the fact that Gunther would never allow anyone to enslave him again.