Trilverda - Winds of the fall

Chapter 3 (Part 2)

Stones, erect from the snowy dirt below. Town's chattering couldn’t touch it. A huge pine tree covered the centre of the graveyard. Empty and dead land, down, behind the castle. The sea cried in cold. Winds howled disturbing the dead. Iron gates clanked as the wind fought against it. Only dark crows stood in the fences.

The King of Olfran, Melvis Valvor stood beside the tree. He stared at a grave and seemed to be murmuring words to himself. The stone stood there with words engraved,

Brain Valvor The High King of The Brethren Island

He stared at the grave, angry or sad, confused perhaps.

The iron gate clanked, Melvis turned around to see, as he had for a hundred times. Gill, his minister arrived, his hands inside his robes. He walked towards Melvis, concentrating, making sure not to step the dead. It was considered as bad luck to step upon a grave. Melvis stared him as he waddled towards him.

Melvis sat under the tree, resting his body against it. “What news do you bring?”

“The message is delivered” Gill replied, gasping.

He crawled towards Melvis and sat beside him, held his hand as a gesture of comfort. He took his head near Melvis's, looked him in the eye, almost with affection. Melvis kept staring at the grave, pretending nothing happened.

Gill creased Melvis's cold hand. “The coronation will stop, my love”

Melvis glanced at him, eyes full of disturbed trust. “You don’t know the old man, he is stubborn”

“His son is dead. King of Hairnipolis is dead. People will go against him for his decision. And his younger son, his heart will be broken. He will reject Kelvin”

Melvis's eyes stared at the sky, his face compressed with fear and uncertainty. “His word is the word of The High King”

“But there is no High King, my love. People will take him for a selfish old man”

“It's not about what people think of him. Will I be the new King of Hairnipolis? Will the old man agree?”

Gill rested his hands around Melvis's cheek and stirred it towards him. “By right, you are the oldest King and the only living blood brother of Kelvin the eldest, you will have the throne. Even Gods' law favour's you”

Gill lifted his head, slowly, trying to reach closer. Affection spilled from his eyes as he pulled Melvis's lips towards his. Melvis looked away, turning his head around, towards the same grave he had been staring since he came to the graveyard.

“Not here” he mumbled.

Gill got up, uneasy. “My King” he bowed asking for leave. He turned back and waddled towards the gate.

“What about the assassin? Did you buy him a house here?” Melvis asked.

“Three days before the killing, my King”

“Don’t spy on him. I don’t want you to get yourself killed”

“My King” he bowed again with his lips stretched wide. He walked out of the gate, turning back, once before he vanished from Melvis sight.

Reynor sat with his father, couldn’t believe any word that came out of his mouth. He took it as a joke, a means of passing the time.

“So ya mean … ya mean a serpent lad is comin' to kill me?” Reynor asked, trying hard not to burst in laughter.

“It’s serious, ya fool. Don’t dare you laugh at the Gods” Kelvin replied. “Alright, do whatever ya want. But if anything seems out of normal or if ya feel like you’re going to be dead, come to me”

“Of course, if ya don’t pass out before me, haha”

Reynor slid his hand inside his pocket to grab the parchment which young Erton gave him before he arrived at Kelvin's chamber. He took it out of his pocket. Upon close inspection, it carried the royal stamp of Hairnipolis, his brother's kingdom.

“Here here ol' man. You got a letter from your elder one” Reynor said.

“By Gods. What-a bloody surprise” Kelvin said, bouncing on his chair.

“I bet he doesn’t want to attend me coronation, so he sent some lies to avoid it”

“He won’t do such thing” Kelvin muttered, ignoring its absolute possibility. “Read it”

He held the parchment, thumb held the end and index finger pressed on the top. He plucked out the stamp and gently removed the purple silk ribbon, still hesitating to read the letter. The ribbon undone, he unhurriedly unrolled the parchment and started to read the message.

“What are ya doing fool? Just tell me already” Kelvin grumped.

Reynor stared the parchment, unable to breath. His eyes narrowed in disbelief. Chills ran through his skin. His face turned pale and hands trembled. He bore no wish for delivering the news to his father. The thought of his father’s well-being fiddled at the back of his mind. Anything could happen to the old man, aged and vulnerable in the heart. But courage had to be pumped out, Reynor opened his mouth and words started to crawl out.

“Father—”

“Go on” Kelvin said.

“Father. Isman is dead” his voice wobbled.

“Is he now?” Kelvin replied. His voice, all sobby. His pale eyes glistened and hands throbbed latching itself in the chair. “How?”

“The letter says he was assassinated in his chamber during sleep”

“My son. My poor son” Kelvin said, voice drowned in sorrow. Tears rolled down his wrinkled cheeks

“Father, don’t” Reynor leaped and creased his father’s shoulder.

The chamber darkened, even more, the sun falling from the sky along with Kelvin's and Reynor’s happiness and excitement for the ceremony. They embraced one another, weeping, striving to be warm, away from the bitter world.

“The prophecy” Kelvin muttered, his voice, unstable.

Rage built inside Reynor, fists closed and teeth clenched. “Yer son is dead and ya care about the fucking prophecy?”

As feeble Kelvin might be, he had a quick temper. He whacked, hard, in Reynor’s cheeks. His boney hand quieted Reynor's rage. Kelvin mopped his wet eyes and cheeks and stood, with force. Reynor sat, unable to do anything but stare at the cold floor.