Valadel

Chapter VIII

Gallador had been summoned to the King's chambers, though what the king wished to discuss could go either way. He was to be punished, or Joras needed to discuss business. He hoped for the latter, always working hard to avoid the kings wrath, as has been the case since their years of adolescence. He walked down the long, narrow hallway leading to the King's Refuge, the name jokingly given to the King's private chambers, where he could discuss and ponder war tactics, write laws, or even read a good book. Gallador met with the small double doors at the end of the golden red carpet and knocked on the sturdy wood. Each panel chiseled into the dark mahogany detailed a king at his finest moment; Jorik crafting Elvenbane, Rorden taking his oath as the first ranger, and Joras challenging Ragnar for the throne, among others. A panel for Ragnar was missing however.

The panel's are for those with the heart of a lion, not those of a snake.

The doors pulled inside as Joras greeted Gallador. Gallador entered the room and sat in a chair across from the kings. In front of him on the square shaped table was the standard map of Jorden, with a hand drawn circle of the coast of Red River Bay. He assumed it to be the kingdom.

They exchanged pleasantries, but the King skipped small talk. "Gallador...I have no idea in all The Abyss as to what the castle is...or to whom it belongs. Or belonged, should I say. The sea is it's rightful owner now. My Queen says to let it be, my brother says to send it back to the depths..."

"What do you wish for your grace?"

Joras sat there in thought. "I want to know where it came from. And why now. How comes your team?"

"Well, your grace. I have selected the four rangers I wish to accompany me. They are the best of the best, and I have no doubt each of them will prove their mettle." Gallador placed down the piece of parchment with the names and information of the rangers. Joras examined it closely.

"You're taking the Stormwell boy? The lads done well to prove himself, but are you sure you want someone as green as he is out there with you?"

"We must make men out of boys somehow, your Grace."

Joras smirked. "As long as you make them into men and not fools." He waved his hand. "Take young Danticus and make him a man, if you so wish. Gods know we could use more of his kind." He turned his attention back to the list.

"I expected to see his name on there...no doubt Nolan sent word for you to do so."

Gallador nodded. "Aye...Siegfried Whitelocke shall join us on the journey."

Joras shook his head. "Nolan's still trying to make his boy something he's not...pity. Curse that man."

"My liege, you understand you are the king, yes? You don't have to give in to his demands."

Joras shook his head. "I don't give in to anyone's commands. There's a certain place a king must remember in this world. It is best to appease your enemies than to make war with them. While of course I doubt the Shadow King would have the crown declare war on Jorden if I had you remove his son from the Order, he is not without his benefits. Without his money, much of Jorden would just become an empty, ghost town-"

"As would the brothels, should Nolan ever decide for Seigfried to return home to Farrennhelm," Gallador quipped.

Joras chuckled. "Aye, that's just...the way of things." He lurched forward to take a sip of his wine, set his goblet down as he swallowed and resumed their conversation.

"That, and silver runs in my blood. My mother was Nolan's aunt...I do miss that dear woman."

Gallador nodded. "She was a fine Queen and a finer mother, your Grace."