Trilverda - Winds of the fall

Chapter 2 (Part 1)

Hands shivered, throat dried out. But Reynor managed to speak something, “I'll pay ya double. Anything. I am the King, I'll shower ya with gold”

“Double? Of a house in Neamora? I think I will take my chances with that” he said, determined with his bow.

“A castle in Desban, high over the hills, you could see all ov—”

“Are you promising to give me an abandoned castle?” the man grunted, bow still focused on Reynor's head.

“Yer own army, a handful. Servants and cattle and weapons”

“Hmm, I presume it is a good offer you make, King,”  he said. “But where is the honour in claiming something you don’t really deserve?”

Reynor, terrified, moved a step. “I can make ya one of the King’s protectors, greatest honour  ya will ever get in yer whole life”

The assassin hopped from the window into the great hall. He unloaded his arrow and put it back in its quiver. He stepped towards Reynor, in an elegant way. His walk reflected his pride and confidence. A good shape, relatively taller than Reynor, unwrapped his cloth mask, revealing his face. Not a scar. Green eyes, a rare colour up the northern isle. His hair lowered as he tossed his mask away.

“The name is Timmer, Timmer Rudner. I wish to hear this name at your coronation, choosing your trusted friend as your King's protector” he said.

“Of course, Timmer of –“

“Neamora”

“Timmer Rudner of Neamora it is then” Reynor smiled uncomfortably.

Timmer smiled. He turned around, ready to leave, leap from the window.

“Ya’re prettier than a lot of girls I've seen. People will not believe that you are from this continent if ya carry those green eyes around enough,” Reynor said, straight-faced. “And the way ya talk, it's too- it’s too pretty for anyone up here”

“I must be lucky then. King's soldiers don’t talk much, I assume. And a helmet will cover my face. I can not scar my face just because it is going to be presented in front of face-judging people before I put a helmet”

“Hmm, ye’r face. Ya do what ya want” Reynor muttered. “The helmet isn't like a Knight's helmet, doesn’t cover yer face. And King's protector does a lot of talking here, lad”

Timmer stood on the windowpane, staring at the beautiful city. “Better not forget about the castle”

“If ya jump from there, It won’t do any good remembering it” Reynor warned Timmer.

Even though the hall lied at the bottom storey, the castle was high above the main ground. Anyone who jumped from the window broke their limbs or even had died. A servant of the castle had committed suicide jumping from that same window. But Timmer looked confident, facing towards the city of Neamora.

“Prepare your speech, King. I wished to be welcomed warmly” he said to Reynor before skipping from the window.

Reynor rushed towards the window and looked beneath. There stood no one or lay no one. Timmer had gone before Reynor could take a glance downward.

Reynor looked away and took a deep breath. “Alright, ling, let’s go to sleep” he waddled towards the stairs that led to his chambers as night's wind howled inside the great hall.

Mid dawn. Cold skies overthrown by rays of warmth that triumphed over the sky marking the beginning of a new dawn, a new era – the era of Reynor Valvor the Second. Birds chirped hovering over the heads of people who gossiped and made the town alive. Markets on the streets, selling all sorts of food and wears, flowers, dolls and whatnot. Butchers swung meat and the smiths hammered freshly forged swords. Dogs roam around with children. Neamora, a beautiful sight to comprehend.

The rattling and grinding sound of chariot's wheel and horses' neigh covered the streets, not long after. Soldiers marched through the streets, banging their spears, swords, shields. A bald man, fat and clean shaved, walked in front of the chariot as some sort of representative. A short,  old man covered in silk, blue of colour. They reached the tower and halted right in front of its gates.

“It is my honour to bless this city with the presence of the Saviour of the Kingdom of Olfran, Melvis Valvor the first, the King of Kingdom of Olfran by conquest, father of the un-fathered” the bald man rose his hands to the sky as he spoke in a loud voice.

A soldier opened the chariot's door. Golden silk robe with silver chains dangling from his neck, the King of Olfran stepped out. His heavy iron boots clanked as he stepped on the ground, one hand holding his golden crown with red sapphire engraved in the centre. People all around stared at him. From the roads, from the balcony, even from the trees. Women’s eyes tainted with affection, men's with jealousy as the king smiled creasing his royal beard.

Kelvin came rushing alongside his son, grabbing his arm. His old wrinkled cheeks seemed to be lifted with joy. Reynor couldn’t even give a glance to the king, on the other hand. They came down the long stairway. Reynor saw the luxury of his fellow kingdom, made him shy and uncomfortable wearing a wolf's fur coat. He took lazy steps as they walked down the stairs.

“Brother” Melvis called out yelling.

“Little Melvis” Kelvin giggled as he paced towards Melvis. The guards vacated the path, only the king and his chariot stood in the middle. The bald man walked aside as Kelvin approached near.

Melvis and Kelvin stood there, eye to eye, only Kelvin was blind. Melvis grabbed his brother’s weak shoulders. Kelvin's mouth wide open, his blind eyes got wet and reflected his brother’s face.

“Me real King” Melvis muttered to his brother as he pulled him to his chest and squeezed him under his fat arms.

“Me little Melvis” Kelvin said, enjoying the warmth of a loved one.

“Look at ya. Eighty-one of age, but here, smiling. Nothing gives me more satisfaction”

“Oh no no don’t flatter this old man. Ya feel sturdy, The Conqueror of the north”

“The Conqueror only because of yer hefty brain on me side”

Kelvin dragged Reynor towards his uncle. “See, the new King of Cruston. Now all the three kingdoms are ruled by our family, good of age”

Reynor's cheek turned red, couldn’t see his uncle in the eye but gave an uncomfortable smile.

Melvis patted his arms and held on to one of them. “Nephew”

Reynor, finally able to manage his eye's stability. “Uncle Melvis”

“Proud of ya me boy, really am”

“Thank ya, uncle”

“Heard that yer people love ya like they loved yer father” he took his mouth near Reynor’s ear “make them fear ya as well. People tend to lose interest real soon”