Iron of the Innocent: The Dark Judge (Vol 1)

Chapter 21: Throne of Shadows

274 I.C.
Sacren
Dark Vale
Black Shield Castle

The present...

Dalora Blacksword stood looking out of the tall, single window of her room. The glass was clear, and it did not open. It was dark, and she could not see much below her window being up so high. Her brow was drawn together in an angry scowl, and her arms were crossed.

She was wearing her long sleeve, black tunic and tight, black pants, which was the normal clothing she wore under her armor. She had no shoes. None of her armor, weapons, or personal items were anywhere in the room. The ring of her mother was gone. Her face was pale, and she was unsteady on her feet. Her eyes moved to her right arm. Someone had cut open and sown up part of her old scar. It hurt as did fading bruises on her face and the side of her head.

Dalora had been up for about an hour, crawling out of the large, soft bed with effort. She was groggy, and she could not remember much after being attacked. She had lost track of time, and what she did remember was only foggy images.

She must have been under a spell or given something medicinal to keep her subdued. She remembered waking up periodically. Each time she was starving and thirsty. There was food and a tankard on a tray by her bed, which she ate from ravenously. She remembered squatting over a freshly placed chamber pot numerous times, but other than that, she had spent her time in a hazy slumber.

Turning from the window, she surveyed the large room. The floor and walls were cold, dark stone, a large hearth burned bright with chunks of cut wood, and her bed had four posts. A side table sat by the bed, there was an empty chest, and an empty wardrobe. The only door in the room was thick, iron bound wood, and locked. The other item was the chamber pot.

Dalora sighed and rubbed her forehead, relaxing her face. Her head was barely clear, it hurt, and she wanted a hot bath. Moving carefully, she walked back to the bed and sat down. The crackling fire was the only sound in the room. Listening to it the minutes passed as her mind wandered.

The last time she had seen her brother, he was eleven. It was the day she left the castle and her parents for full time military service. Dalora had stood before her father's throne as he presented her to the Black Sword generals. She would be their commander in a short time, once she completed the advanced military academy course of study and training.

Kaedres had been dressed in his fine, multilayered, courtly robes of white and black. His dark hair had been combed, still looked damp, and he wore a thin circle of black steel befitting the prince of Black Sword. The ugly bruise on his right cheek almost matched the crown in color. He sat on his throne, and the look of sadness in his blue eyes would haunt Dalora for the rest of her life. He did not cry, nor would he do so in front of anyone. He appeared tiny to Dalora in the vast throne room and hall. His one statement to Dalora when she told him she was leaving was, "Please don't abandon me." It was the night before in his chambers.

"I'm not abandoning you," Dalora said.

He shook his head in disagreement, the look of sadness on his face. "I will be here alone," he said.

"No," Dalora replied, "mother is here. You have all your tutors and trainers. One day you will leave just like me."

Kaedres looked up at her. "Mother does not love me."

Dalora was shocked. "What?" she said startled by the statement. "How can you say that? She does love you."

The boy shook his head. "I heard her," he said. "She was standing outside my door whispering. She said she didn't love me. She said she wished I had never been born."