CHAPTER 20

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Grantook sat on the balcony rubbing his temple methodically as the door creaked behind him and the newly appointed captain of the guard entered. Two lieutenants flanked him. Both looked eerily similar, and it took him a moment to realize they were twins. Captain Ra knelt, sweeping his emerald-green cloak wide and touching his clenched fist to the ouroboros symbol at his breast. "His Ascendency approaches, Chief."

     "Very well, how long?"

     "An hour, Chief, perhaps sooner."

     Grantook stopped rubbing his temple and gripped the arms of his chair. "And how many with him?"

     The newly appointed captain looked over his shoulder and then leaned in. His brow furrowed, and his green eyes narrowed. "Two thousand light infantry, sire. A company of royal guard and several dozen scouts."

     Grantook grinned before grunting, doing his best to swallow the niggle of guilt and excitement in his throat. He knew his decision to contact the mystics would draw a response. Knew he'd basically handed His Majesty a reason to depose him on a platter. By daring to consort with the enemy, he had effectively forfeited his lands, his title as Chieftain of the Reach, and quite possibly his life.

     He met the young soldier's eyes, remembering a time when he too had been young and fiercely obedient. When he would have done anything to gain the respect and admiration of his betters. He found himself wishing his dear friend Alaric were here. He regretted the thought as soon as it popped into his head. He'd known the man all his life. Knew he wouldn't understand. "Are the men ready?"

     The young captain stood taller. "Aye, Chief, awaiting the signal."

     "Very good, Captain. You have your orders. I shall meet His— Highness at our gates. Please see that they are open."

     The young captain grinned as he turned on his heels and whistled to the identical set of lieutenants.

     His chief scientific advisor jumped slightly as the high arching doors slammed behind the captain and his men. He scurried about, fussing with gadgets and gizmos Grantook barely understood. "NO! Not like that, Brennan, like this!" Cook reached over and turned what looked to be a glass lens around and shook his head at the now apologetic apprentice. "Bahh!" he bellowed as he shooed the man away and slid another piece of glass into the measuring device.

     Grantook took as deep a breath as he could manage as he watched these "men of science" fumble about. It would have been a nice late spring day, if not for the wind. It gusted south, sending a torrent of ash straight off the raging infernos in the north and causing the sun's light to refract and take on a murky, amber tone. To make matters worse, the fetid air reeked of sulfur and stung at the edges of his lungs.

     "What news, Cook?" His voice almost barked from the mix of ash and growing anticipation. The short, squat man reeled, fumbling with a glass vile, and wiped sweat and ash from his brow. Grantook regretted his harsh tone immediately. He had not meant to startle the man, but he knew that if he simply sat idle, Cook's relentlessly inquisitive nature would lead to long hours of questions, followed by unending observation.

     "The flames have breached the southern cliffs, Chief." Cook blinked hard and began inspecting the stone at his chief's feet like it held answers. "My measurements seem to suggest the fire line will do little to slow the conflagration's advance." Cook backed away and began lowering himself.

     Grantook again tried to take a deep breath and failed. "How long?"

     Cook jumped at the question. "Given the current—and with all the latest batches of tests, I theorize—"

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