The Cleansing (Book One: The Folara Chronicles)

056: Quildor

Covering his burned face with a scarf, Quildor entered the council chamber, one of the few rooms left in the castle without evidence of his wrath. He sat at the head of the long diamond shaped table, its inwardly curving edges bringing him closer to those in attendance than perhaps they would like. 

They were ready to fight for him, ready to give their lives. He was about to give them their opportunity.

As he placed his forearms on the table, his sleeves fell back to reveal his birthmark, the silver crescent moon that adorned his upper arm. He noted several pairs of eyes fall to that mark, recalling their loyalty. He reveled in their willingness to kill and be killed.

"War is declared." Quildor announced. "The scepter of power has been stolen from the castle and I will have it back."

"Do you know who has taken it?" Crevan's eyes were level and businesslike.

"Nimiane Etrusia of Aquaria. A witch." Quildor eyed each man there. "Why are some men missing?" He addressed his Captain, still keeping eye contact with each of the sixteen men still seated. 

"Rion Etrusia is inside the Mountain, and I have sent Jayce and Terryn to find him."

Quildor's face registered no surprise whatsoever, but inside his brain began a shimmer of annoyance. If Adara had been alive she would have been able to acquire the whereabouts of each man in this room, his leaders, his fighters. Especially Rion Etrusia. He'd kept a very close eye on this one, and for a very good reason-- this one was very like himself. Quildor drew in another sharp breath and allowed himself for one small moment to remember. The memories Nimiane had opened were painful. In his mind's eye, he viewed Nimiane's prone figure on his bed clutching the swaddled dark haired child to her breast. He felt the sudden pride and joy of dreams fulfilled. His son, his son was born!

"I need him to attend me now." Quildor said calmly, but every man in the room felt the icy chill of his anger.

Crevan nodded to two of his men, Marveille and Roche. They saluted and fast-stepped out of the chamber, stoically keeping the relief off their faces.

"The rest of you. I want searchers found and brought to me unassimilated. I need information. Bring them to me here." He pounded the table with his fist. They stood and waited for him to precede them and then as one turned to Crevan for orders.

*******

Ondrea closed the door that barred the way from the main council room in the Aerie and the safer and more private chambers she'd been allotted. Her heart was pounding, had been since she'd taken flight days ago. Being inside, and captive, away from the lives and politics of the Tri-realms and Valdemar had left her alone and impaired. The politics and people were now foreign to her. She had to be very careful not to reveal too much about herself, staying aloof and yet un-mysterious enough that the Aerie would trust her.

She put a fair hand to her forehead and turned to face the room. A voice came from the shadows.

"I'll admit, Ondrea, it is a surprise to see you alive after all this time."

Ondrea didn't start as she might have once many years ago. She crossed to the closest counter and poured herself water. She took the glass and raised it to her lips giving herself a chance to observe her cousin.  Voices had that affect on her. She reminded herself she'd been isolated.

"I agree." She flashed a weary smile.

Mathilde shrugged and patted a spot on the bed where she lifted a shapely leg covered in white material. Ondrea sat on the other side of the bed and leaned back against the pillows, pulling her bare legs up and crossing them in an effort to seem composed.