Kingdoms of Caelum; Autumn of the War Queen

Chapter 3

Ragan stood from his chair in the over-crowded tavern, spotting his advocate. He had chosen the place purposefully, making sure it was a night full with the scum of the realms. Slavers, murderers, thieves and many undesirables floated through the kingdom of Fortis. Mostly they worked in the mines during the day, and drank idly in the vast number of taverns the Kingdom provided during the night. Ragan looked around; despite the taverns bulging volume, they had less chance of being recognized in here, and that was good. The tavern did its job. Dalbet acknowledged Ragan and pushed passed the shoulders of the many dirty, big men who wore the stink of the underground as a second skin. One of them, so tall he almost touched the low beams of the tavern; compared to Dalbet he looked practically giant like. Dalbet mumbled high born apologies as he weaved past, and kept his eyes on Ragan. They briefly shook hands and both sat at the small circular table.

"Fine establishment", Dalbet mocked, flicking a mass of blonde mid length hair back. Dalbet Harn, cousin of the King of Thurlstone, was more accustom to thin men in breeches and graceful garments, than the ruffians he had just encountered. Even Ragan's attire, in his thick feathered coat and black leather, seemed rather primitive to him. He shook Ragan's hand daintily, almost cursing out loud when he noticed grime had smudged his own, tender white glove.

"Shall we begin?" Ragan asked, black eyes burning into Dalbet's. Dalbet shifted uncomfortably. He could see why they called him the Iron Heart. Ragan had sent many, many men to their death as Roskilde's Chief Justice; the name fit his demeanour well.

"As you wish", Dalbet said, "but this had better be good."

Ragan ran his fingers through his hair and smiled.

"This is good Dalbet," and he laughed, somewhat hysterically, as Dalbet shuffled awkwardly in the seat, "This is really good."

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