Dawn of the Epoch

Chapter LXI - An Imperial Audience

Ghaelvord sat with perfect posture, back erect, head held high, in his colossal blackwood throne. The baroque pipe organ rose up behind the tall throne, dwarfing it. Thousands of pipes adorned it. The throne itself was covered in glyphs like a Norse runestone. The glyphs were gilded with gold. A glossy, specular reflection emanated from the polished metal.

“Do you like my home?” Ghaelvord asked innocently.

No one answered him.

Hunter sat directly in front of the throne in the main hall. A heavy, unbreakable chain bound his arms behind his back. Malacoda had cinched the chains up painfully tight. Hunter sat with both knees supporting his weight and stared up at Ghaelvord. Ghaelvord sat high above him. To Hunter’s left, Virgil sat bound in the same manner. To Hunter’s right, Tiyana sat similarly bound. On a table off to the side, Shenouda lay unconscious. Malacoda stood to the right of the throne. He had his arms crossed and his lower lip stuck out in an expression of indignation. Virgil’s caduceus staff and Hunter’s two crystal-blade swords lay directly in front of the throne. Ghaelvord had arranged them directly beneath his feet, tantalizingly close to their owners, but absolutely out of reach.

Ghaelvord smiled. Despite his shoulder injury, which he barely seemed to notice, he spoke with effervescent mirth.

Ghaelvord began, “Oh how the mighty have fallen. So, you are the wizard who confounded my armies for all of those long years. Fascinating. I will admit, when I woke up this morning, I wrapped my robes around myself just as I do every morning. I never, for a second, thought that I would have the enigmatic wizard who antagonized me for centuries sitting chained in front of me. Ha! Sometimes life skips the lemons and gives you lemonade.”

Ghaelvord slapped the armrest and shook his head in an expression of wonderment.

He went on, “Life can be filled with such charming surprises.”

Virgil felt defeated. His pride kept him from hanging his head, but he could not bear to look into Ghaelvord’s mocking sapphire eyes so he turned his head and looked sideways. He determined to endure the derision stoically.

Ghaelvord took his time looking from face to face of his captive audience.

After he allowed his words and tone to sink in, he begun again, “And you,” he looked at Tiyana, “You are an exquisite beauty. Pretty women have always been the Achilles’ Heel of great men, I suppose. Nevertheless, come on wizard, or Virgil, as I suppose I should call you now, if that is your real name. Really? After all of the antagonization that you have given me over the long years, you let one mortal life defeat you? This is one woman who will die someday soon whether you give up or not.” Ghaelvord laughed. “Am I the only one to see the irony here? You surrendered in order save the life of a mortal, who will simply die anyways, regardless of what goes on here today. What did you really accomplish?” Ghaelvord snickered.

“You’ll eat those words one day.” Hunter said the words through gritted teeth.

He stared defiantly up at the macabre throne.

Ghaelvord laughed again, “One day?” He raised his eyebrows. “That is a bold claim for an infant Dahjaat. You don’t know who I am, do you? You have been Dahjaat for how long? Two weeks? Three? Ask me how long I have been Dahjaat.” He paused. “Okay, I will tell you. Forever, well, for as long as I can recall anyways.”

At that Ghaelvord laughed good-naturedly. His tone had become subtly grittier as he talked. Abruptly, his tone changed.

It became cloying again and he said, “Excuse me. Where are my manners? You all are indisposed and I am taking advantage of it. I am not the kind of fighter who kicks a downed opponent.”