Trilverda - Winds of the fall

Chapter 11

The huge castle erected before them, guarded by hundreds of men. Only a half of it visible them, the walls blocked the rest of the castle. Hismal halted his men, gasped. He dismounted and walked towards Reynor, making sure his clothes are presentable. “King Reynor”

Reynor spread his chest, it would intimidate anyone but not Hismal. Raynor lightened his already lightened face. “Yes, um…?”

“Mantryl Hismal Polir, sire” he extended his hands. Reynor grabbed it the Crustonian way, tight and rough. Jubin and Timmer tossed their sights away, one unable to suppress his chuckle, another embarrassed. Hisman did not mind, he accepted it as a friendly gesture. “A King should never forget his culture” he laughed and so did Reynor.

“You have to surrender your weapons before you get inside these walls, sire” tension rose as Hismal let out his demands. Reynor faced at Jubin and Timmer, his guard stood stern, his lips pursed. Jubin nodded his head and confirmed trust. Reynor took off his sword along with its sheath. He turned and nodded facing Timmer, he rolled his pants and revealed the knife tied to his sin, took it out and handed to Hismal's men. Reynor glanced at Captain Hullier and his traders.

“We have no intention of getting inside these walls, me lord” Hullier said. “We just came here to bid ya farewell for ya're our King”

“Ya mean ya will stay here for trade?” Reynor asked. He seemed concerned for his countrymen.

“No, we will sell our goods to the local traders and our ship leaves at dusk”

Reynor nodded and turned towards Hismal, willing to go near the gates. Hismal stopped Reynor, he stared towards Timmer. “Every weapon, sire”

“Ya mean I should leave me protector outside?” Reynor grunted.

“No, your protector has not submitted his weapons fully to us”

Reynor looked at Timmer, his protector's eyes loathed Hismal for a moment. Timmer walked towards his leather pouch and untied it. He took out two glaives, each could be attached to another's end. Thick, curved and sharp blades at the top made it look vigorously lethal. He handed them to Hismal's men, unwilling. “Just a small scratch and I swear I will behead you people with this same weapon” and his eyes confirmed what he said.

“Welcome to Gornkul, King of Cruston” Hismal ordered his men to open the gates. “My the maidens protect your journey and guide your decision”

Reynor thanked him and strolled inside with Timmer and Jubin. The castle touched the sky just as his own castle but it spread wider, no one would confuse it for a tower. It stood like a castle and rose like a castle, the grand castle. The red-sand coloured castle had a bell at the top. Towers of the same height rose from every corner of the castle. Beautiful gardens with maids dancing, trees with monkeys and heavenly fountains were common around the castle. Guards roamed around, a group of ten men took turns to guard an area. The marvellous aroma of rich fragrance coated the air around. A poor human would mistake it for nirvana, for sure.

Back to the snowy homeland, Falver had the banner hung from a branch of the tree inside the castle walls. He towered from his soldiers who stood on the ground, he had stood in a small stage, little stair steps leading towards the centre. Hundreds of men had gathered around him, gossiping, their half-conscious devoted to Falver. The gathering had taken place inside a castle yard, Castle Ulfrud, just another normal looking castle with rusty walls and muddy ground. He clapped his thick hands, turning every eye and ear towards him. “It is an important notice. I ask yer full attention”

The men, their ears pointed to Falver's words, stopped their chattering at once. Falver's face had not been a pleasing sight for them, now it turned more displeasing and uncomfortable. He let out a small chough before continuing any further. “Let me tell it straight away” Falver was not the one to mince words, he could never. “As you understand that the minister of Olfran, is rotting in our dungeon for committing a hideous crime of hiring an assassin for the murder of King Isman Valvor, brother of our King. King Melvis thinks we have no right to punish him. So, he will cut the supplies of food for us. We will starve to death”