The Azimar Archives Book One- The Book of Death

Ajax

Ajax walked through the castle corridors to his new King's chambers. The hallways were unusually quiet and empty. Etritia was in mourning, and Ajax was no different. But he at least had the search for Nevina to keep his mind from dwelling on Areanath's death. The rest of Etritia was not so distracted, and the heavy silence chocking the castle was a grim reminder of Azimar's loss.

Mothlenor had refused to take up residence in the same rooms his brother had used, for which Ajax was oddly grateful. Instead, Mothlenor had decided to stay where he had resided for all of Areanath's rule. The Old Tower sat on the northeastern side of the castle, oddly dark and ominous in the shadow of the Northern Mountains.

Ajax had always ignored the whispers about Mothlenor's curious residence. Some of the older townspeople insisted that it was haunted, some going so far as to say that Mothlenor would anger ancient spirits by residing there. The less superstitious Etritians were still unnerved by the arcane arts that Mothlenor practiced in his seclusion, and did little to quiet the less absurd rumors. Thus the Old Tower had grown to be associated with the mysterious and unknown, perhaps even with things better left unsaid and unstudied. But Ajax had never been shaken by what the townspeople said. The Old Tower was strange because it was old and needed tending, much like the other older parts of the castle. And Mothlenor, while odd and often rude, was another Etritian citizen, and their king's brother.

Ajax's steps faltered on the first steps of Mothlenor's tower.

Not the King's brother.

The King.

Ajax continued his climb, a weight settling in his chest.

As Ajax ascended the winding stairs of the tower to the chamber doors, he wondered if perhaps some of the whispers about the Old Tower were correct after all. The curving stairs were drafty, and the walls bare of any decoration, much unlike the rest of the castle. The air was heavy and stale, and there was something else... something Ajax couldn't quite put words to. It felt as if the tower was alive and full of energy. As if he was an unwelcome guest, facing the scrutiny of unseen beings all around him. The sensation of being watched by unknown eyes made his skin crawl. But he continued to climb, the air growing fouler with each step, until he finally faced the door to Mothlenor's chambers.

He could hear voices on the other side of the heavy wooden door, and Ajax found himself hesitating, one hand raised to knock.

"You were seen with her! If I had wanted her to be seen, I would have paraded her through the city myself."

"Forgive me, my Lord."

The first was Mothlenor's voice, undoubtedly, but Ajax couldn't recognize the other man. His voice was smooth and rich, and there was an unsettling quality to his voice that Ajax couldn't place.

"I ought to dismiss you for your foolishness, especially after learning of your... actions, but I need your skills," Mothlenor said venomously.

"Thank you, my Lord, for your kindness, and for your forgiveness," the other man began. "But, it was not specified-"

"That you were to leave her be? You are right. I thought I might reward you with a bit of amusement. But you grossly overstepped what I might consider 'amusement'. From now on, you are forbidden from laying your hands – or any other part of your person – on her again. There are whores plenty enough in the city, perhaps you can find one that is willing to put up with your... tastes."

"Thank you, my Lord, and I-"

"Go on, do as I've asked and leave me."

There was a mumbled reply, then silence on the other side of the door. Ajax knocked sharply on the door, not sure who might be waiting just beyond. Who could Mothlenor be meeting with? And what woman were they discussing? A favored bedroom companion of his? Ajax had never known Mothlenor to visit the brothels of Etritia, but every man has his needs.