SONG OF POWER

Chapter XXXI: Two Days Remain

SONG OF POWER
CHAPTER XXXI:  TWO DAYS REMAIN

Phrenon’s Lamp crept into the overcast sky, its first rays found their way through the lead glass that separated Cipher’s chamber from the outside world.  Sprawled around him in glorious, sleeping chaos were the attractive body parts of Ninthalsaya, Rowena, and Tyroce.  At a glance the night’s pleasures flooded his memory and Cipher sighed contentedly.  I am one lucky son of a bitch, he thought with a wry grin.

Breakfast was held in the throne room.  Since the Cyen that was no longer was, Donk had ordered that the great table from the Rosy Pucker be given a new home in the throne room.  The noble meal was attended by Cipher and his Covey; Donk and Sergiusz; the gnome cousins; Zot and Samson; and by Samuel, Pantifer, Trevor, Wisp, and their wives.  While not a part of the meal, the Knights of Cyen were present to keep the baronet and baronetessas secure.

“Please, my friends, I have been gone and what appears to be my domain has risen like Phoenix from its own ashes,” Cipher stated over hotcakes.  “Tell me what I need to know.”

“Milord—” began Trevor Heather II.

“Please! I have known you for years; when you dine with me you will call me ‘Cipher’ and dispense with the formalities,” interrupted Cipher.  “That goes for everyone who breaks bread with me this morning.  Am I clear?”

“Yes, my friend,” said Trevor sheepishly.  “The Midsummer Massacre ended with most of us fleeing the goblin horde.  Those of us that were able hid in the forest until the goblins passed on.  Somehow Donk, your father, and Samson found most of us over the following days and bid us return to rebuild Cyen.”

“Yeah, but little did we know that Gaia Herself was rebuilding your regency for you!” this from Pantifer.

“I myself was mostly unaware of this miracle,” replied Cipher truthfully, “As was I unaware of my nobility.”

“The Lostheart pedigree has been in Drakkenavia longer than the McShains,” Zot stated evenly.  “Any of you four could challenge our White King for the Drakkenavian throne.”

“I have no designs on the White Throne,” Cipher told his father, a hint of warning in his voice.

“None of us do, Father,” said Rowena.  She grinned like a schoolgirl, so overcome with joy was she to break bread with her new father-in-law.

“Pity,” was all Zot said.  Though he kept it tucked under the table, his frozen swordarm was something that the others could not ignore.

“How is it that Cyen has recovered so quickly?” asked Ninthalsaya.  She set her fork aside and propped her chin on her hands.  Her veil lay folded beside her plate, and her beauty arrested the attentions of those seated around her.  For once she did not deign to hide her Gaia-given boon.

“This is our home,” said Samson simply.  “When the horde had moved on, we returned.  Cyenites are a hearty breed of folk.”

“Travelers came, too,” added Samuel, his breast swelling with pride at his father’s words.  “People who normally pass here on their way to Draketon, local brigands hoping to start a new life under a new ruler, people curious to see what was left of Cyen after the Frostbelts had done their worst, your honor guard…and a cult,” Samuel added the last with an uneasy glance at Donk.

“A cult?” asked Cipher and Rowena in unison.

“Just so,” said Donk.  When I went to Schade to find help for Tyroce, I had to make a deal with the head of the Ethereal Cult.  They are to be allowed to practice their faith openly throughout your holdings.”