The Call Of Shadows

Chapter Ten

Suuk's hooves beat loudly on the thawing ground; anger burning deep within Salwein's heart and one thought and one thought only kept him going. He had been riding nonstop for six hours now, through the bleak midnight hours and into the golden sunrise. Nothing was going to get in his way. His jawline clenched unchanging as he stared ahead, three fae flanking him on either side as a precaution in case anyone tried to stop him. Kinnar's head bounced mockingly at his hip, even in death daring him to make a move against him. Although time was of the essence, he could not allow himself to take one of the Fae's dragons to meet with Me-Ree.

Custom stated all betrayals be met with steed and cold eyed stare. The head was to be presented at Noon within six days of the discovered treachery- this was to ensure that swift action would be taken one way or the other and to guarantee that punishment was not an afterthought or an oversight. Salwein was riding into his fourth day slightly ahead of schedule, but the Veiled Forests would slow them down significantly as the snow continued to melt and mud slicked the trails. Every heartbeat signaled danger, every crow screamed of coming death and he scarcely dared to breathe until the fog burned away once more. The beginning of the Veiled Forests had come hours ago, and now they had precious time to spare. There were still plenty of miles and questions to come...

Salwein sat in front of the dying embers of a fire with Caldern and their host, Queen Lucille. She had been kinder to them than he had expected and over the course of the month they spent as her guests they had grown friendly with each other. She had a wit that was sharper than any of Bagaeth's blades and sons that any mother would be proud of. He stared into the lengthening shadows and let a frown pass his lips for a few moments. "Are you certain it's safe here?" He asked worriedly. She smiled kindly, "I assure you my guards are keeping our privacy. I trust them with my life but-''she trailed off, hesitating. "What is it, your majesty?" Caldern asked, putting his hand atop hers, an old elvish custom. "I fear it may not be enough soon."

They sat in silence for a few moments, each of them digesting the news in their own fashion. "While I respect your culture and your growing friendship, I called you here for a different reason. I believe that I am at the center of something very grim, and very dangerous. My throne is on the line, and with it the peace of both of our lands." She closed her eyes, scarcely believing the words that were coming out of her own mouth. "It has come to my attention that my husband, Reginald Drogg, has been pushing your boundaries back for a few months now. He's been threatening action from his men if you insist on keeping your treaty unchanged. I have obviously forbidden it and have been keeping a very close eye on his actions, but he is not willing to listen by either reason or force."

"What are you not saying, Queen Lucille?" Salwein asked, a hint of fear coloring his normally stable voice. "What I'm not saying is that my husband has been trying to get a beast through your guards, and the more beasts your guard kills the more irrational he gets. I'm going to be assassinated, there's nothing I can do to stop it." Although her voice was emotionless and firm, her eyes betrayed the weakness she was hiding. She was scared, and neither elder could blame her. "What would you have us do?" Caldern asked quietly. The fire sizzling was the only sound in the room for several moments. A single tear slid down the queen's cheek as she replied, "Keep my youngest son safe. He is the only one of my boys that I know will do what is right when the time comes." Salwein nodded gravely as he rose to leave. Her hand shot out to stop him, the strong grip on his wrist keeping him in place. Without looking up she spoke one last word of apology. "Tell Bagaeth I'm sorry. I should have listened to him last time he came to me."

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Prince Rokan's anger burned fiercely as the white-hot iron poker descended upon Quindi's exposed chest. His muffled screams shot through the air, lungs heaving with the effort of breathing through the cloth that had been tied tightly around his face. His skin was blistered and bleeding, sores already forming on the backs of his thighs from being held in one position for so long. Zena's voice dripped with poison as she whispered into his ear, "I know you are aware of his plans..." She said, teasing his hair in her fingers. "All we want to know is which troop is striking first. Then we'll let you go. It really is that simple."