Kingdoms of Caelum; Autumn of the War Queen

Chapter 5

The next few weeks felt blurred and empty to Katla. She found herself avoiding her father, her sister and even Piat. He had heard the news that the betrothal was going ahead, and so had the entire Kingdom. The whispers ran riot that the Chief of Clans daughter would be wed outside of a Roskilde Clan, to the Prince of Thurlstone, and with those whispers came the common knowledge that she was brutally against it. She felt eyes burning into her back wherever she went, and nothing, other than the arrival of her uncle back from his dealings with Fortis, stopped the idle gossip. In a way, despite how much she disliked Ragan, she was glad of his return and the distraction he provided. The horns blew and the banners were raised as he arrived with a small army of men on exhausted horses. She watched the formal greeting from the rooftops, hearing her father embrace a man he disliked and distrusted with loving zest.

"Welcome back to my brother Ragan, Chief of Justice, advisor to the Kingdom!" The gathered crowd hooted and yelled back in chorus.

"A great feast will be held in his honour tonight, and for my people: I offer every family a lamb!"

The hoots and yells descended ten fold as a barrage of livestock was let free and came running through the streets. Katla watched her father hug Ragan by the shoulders and laugh as they made their way up to the castle. She felt anger rise at the false display, and she glanced away to the gatehouse wall. Piat stood on his sentry duty, he had been watching her and he gave a solemn wave, but she did not return the gesture. Katla's mood was black and lonely. She crawled down discreetly from the thatched roof and into the heart of the crowd. Tonight she would be forced to attend the charade of the feast and celebrations; mixing with the men who had decided her destiny, and it filled her with bitterness.

"Every journey begins with the first steps!" Borag Asta, Head of Clan Briareus, the Mountain, slurred animatedly across the table. He was drunk. They all were. Singing, laughing and dancing like buffoons. Amya sat by Katla's side and giggled as the drum and flute beat increased, and the men took their ladies hands to dance. Borag was a serious man with a shaven head and toned physique. He was the Master of the Dragon Riders. Katla loved the Dragon Riders. They rode and trained the last remaining Wyvern colony that lived deep within the core of the Kingdom. They were small, white shy creatures, and as tame as horses due to Borag and his riders. But despite Borag's usual flawless and commanding nature, after a few ales he was like the rest of them: drunk and intolerable.

"You shouldn't be so angry with your father. And wear a dress more bloody often!" He laughed before slumping off his seat, leaving Katla blushing. Amya had heard his last words and stood from her seat in a beautiful blue silken gown to match Katla's.

"You do look pretty!"

Katla threw her a warning look.

"You only say that because you made the dresses!"

Amya giggled, did a twirl and cheeky bow before running into the arms of their father, who was mopping his brow after the last dance. It was only then she realised she was the last one sat at the feasting table; her and several dogs that dared to pick at the leftovers. She threw a chicken leg down and it was scrapped over briefly before the bigger, shaggier dog claimed its prize and ran from the Great Hall. When Katla looked back up towards the merriment, her stomach sank as she noticed her uncle make his way past the sweating, dancing bodies straight to her. She had always felt uneasy around Ragan; thin and tall, he looked nothing like her father, more like a creeping skeleton. Uncle Black Bones was what she and Amya called him; clean shaven and always dressed in black. Her earliest memories of him were always associated with death and suffering, and the screaming of the people he banished to the Rakshasha. Then there was his smile, dark and dangerous.

"Katla. I have come to congratulate you on your betrothal. Hal tells me the match with Thornic is well suited!"

Katla stood from her chair and gave him the correct respect a lady should give; but she did not smile or speak. Ragan took her hand in his, and brushed his lips over the surface.