The Easel Chronicles; The Burning Hands

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Eight

The house of Siras was a stark contrast to that of Edril. It was plainly smaller and simpler, much more like a hovel if compared with Edril's. The girls led Aravoen through to a well decorated entrance hall. The walls were lined with paintings and sculptures of mighty war heroes. Ebrithian war heroes.

The low windows were letting in the dim rays of moonlight. Torches lit up the hall and its adjacent rooms. Aravoen surveyed the hall suspiciously. From the corner of his eye he saw it's reflection. Slithbron's battle axe. The blade was peeping out of what was supposed to be its hiding place.

He is here Mindacil, Aravoen said calmly. Send word to Edril and tell him to come with whatever number of troops.

"Father might be awake," Thaylor said quietly.

"Rightly so," Breilin added, "let's go and see."

They moved through the house until they came to a set of iron doors. The doors were wide open and Aravoen could see the room they opened to. It seemed to be Siras' study. A large table of the finest wood Aravoen had seen in Mendil stood in the middle. A small jar of primroses and daisies adorned its center.

"Let me tell you dwarf," Siras was somewhere in the room, hidden from Aravoen's sight.

"Let's go," Thaylor sensed danger.

"Wait." Aravoen whispered putting on his widest smile.

"Edril will march out soon," Siras seemed to be gloating, "to a trap and he will die along with our army. The Grendels and orcs shall come and I will rule Ebrithia. Plus your friends have made work easier. Now I don't have to go to Cardamon. All I have to do is make sure those foolish halfwits die with their religion."

"Aravoen won't let it happen." Slithbron's voice was little more than a croak.

"Shame you can't climb out of that hole little man." Siras goaded the dwarf.

Unknown to the Ebrithian, Aravoen was listening to him. Thaylor realized too late Aravoen's intent gaze. She tried rushing to get a jar and smash it over Aravoen's head, but Aravoen had grabbed her sister in defense. He held his hand over her mouth so she would not scream.

Aravoen edged his way into Siras' study. He was very much aware of Thaylor following him into the room. Aravoen saw Siras bent over what seemed to be a well. Answers where Slithbron has been.

"Father," Thaylor said.

Siras turned round alarmed. As soon as he caught sight of Aravoen holding a knife to Breilin's throat, he let out an angry growl. "Let my daughter go outsider."

"Just as soon as you let my friend out," Aravoen retorted.

"Aravoen," Slithbron cried from the well. "Is that you laddie?"

"Slithbron you alright?"

"Just a pickle here," the dwarf answered from his unconventional prison cell.

"Siras let my friend out and I will let her go," Aravoen said more firmly.

"Never," Siras said.

"Thaylor don't move," Aravoen could see the elder sister edging her way slowly towards the knives on her father's wall.

"Let her go and I'll give you your friend," Siras said after some thought. He kept quiet waiting for Aravoen's answer.

"Don't trust him boy," Slithbron shouted from the well.