The Lost God

Chapter Three

999AF

Excited shouting accompanied the tirade of people spilling out of the fort onto the main road, all of them pointing into the distance. Conrad thought he could see his father, standing head and shoulders above everyone else, but was swallowed up by the crowd a moment later. He was carried relentlessly down the road, past the market square and was allowed to stop beside the gatehouse. The gates themselves were being slowly opened; the hinges had stuck in the perpetual damp and the wood had swollen so that the gates scraped reluctantly across the paved road. Conrad stood on his tiptoes to see beyond the gates but could barely make out more than ten feet until the snow obscured everything. They heard it before they saw anything; hooves clip-clopping against the stone and the occasional whuff. He felt his tunic being tugged and looked down to see two, wide blue eyes staring up at him. The toddler tugged again, demanding to be picked up and Conrad relented, swinging the young boy onto his shoulders. The boy chuckled and grabbed at Conrad's short hair, pulling some from the roots. Wincing, he tried to save his scalp from the chubby fists of the child, but only succeeded in more hair parting from his skull. Resigned to the apparently inevitable baldness the toddler seemed determined to cause, Conrad held onto the boy's legs and focused on the ghostly apparitions of horses and riders that had appeared from the depths of the snow.

There were three horses, all pure greys, their manes flowing freely in the wind. Tall, with arched necks and slim bodies, they differed completely from the short, stocky mounts of the Reach. Whiter even than the snow around them, they picked their way distastefully around loose stones and puddles. Their riders appeared to dislike the road and weather even more than their mounts; each had wrapped themselves in furs that they had evidently bought in previous towns, their mouths and noses muffled against the mountain breeze. The crowd parted to let them through, and by chance Conrad happened to be in the row next to the road. The toddler on his shoulders mumbled something that was lost in the wind, but the intonation of awe remained. As the first horse walked past, its rider fixed Conrad with a lambent green stare and he returned it stonily until they had passed. The other two riders spared the crowd no more than a second's glance, instead looking towards the stone fort in the distance. The crowd waited a few seconds before following the horses, the children old enough to hold their own racing forwards to touch the magnificent mounts. The toddler on his shoulder squirmed and Conrad set him down gently, watching as he tottered unsteadily in the general direction of the market. He rubbed his throbbing scalp ruefully and looked towards the fort. He frowned; for a moment, it seemed as though the mountains were swallowing the stone fortress. He blinked and shook his head, banishing such thoughts from his mind. The fort had stood strong for over a thousand years, protecting the Reach from Nomadic marauders; why would it crumble now? Smiling at his stupidity, he let himself be carried towards it by the crowd.

The first floor of the fort was full of Northerners and the Nomads, Airens and Orminians that made up the rest of the population, all facing the Great Hall. The roof seemed as though it would lift with the noise they were making. The riders had disappeared through the double doors some time before and the crowd would wait for hours to catch another glimpse of the strange people. Conrad tried to part the crowd gently but got caught behind a particularly stubborn pocket of Orminians, whose dark, clever faces turned ugly when he struggled to edge through them. They closed whatever miniature gap there had been between them and one woman turned to face Conrad with a smug smile. Losing his patience, he began to push past them and was followed by obscene curses in their native tongue. He looked back and saw a man shaking his fist in Conrad's general direction. Laughing a little, he nodded to the guards that stood in front of the doors and they bowed their heads, opening a door for him to step through.

The three riders stood near the table on the plinth, still swaddled in furs. They turned as one to face Conrad as the door slid shut behind him. The court had already seated themselves on the table with the exception of Adil; he was not yet old enough to attend matters of the state. He took his place besides Mina and thought he caught an indulgent smile shot in his direction from the princess. The king gestured towards the three persons and they stepped forward, unravelling the many furs they had covered themselves with. The rider with the green eyes was revealed to be woman, clad in the riding clothes of the north. Her disgruntled expression clearly showed that she was not used to dressing in such a manner, and Conrad distinctly heard Mina snort. The lady glowered at the princess in a momentary lapse of her dignified carriage; however, she quickly regained her composure. She bowed to the king, her ghostly pale hands spread. She lifted her head and auburn locks fell into her cat-like eyes, crinkled somewhat by the smirk that twisted her lips. Bjorn leant forwards, his eyes fixed upon hers like prey is fixed by a snake.