The procession cheered deafeningly, followed by the thunderous roars of the dragons.
CHAPTER 7
Hours later, Kemrin stood alone in the trophy room within Magnus Keep. It was a vast chamber with dozens of shelves. Resting on the shelves were the trophies claimed by House Magnus. The trophies ranged from armor, weapons, stones from fallen castles, tarnished banners, and skulls. A flood of memories washed over Kemrin as he looked at the trophies, memories of victories he shared with his family. It was in this chamber that Kemrin felt the most pride.
A familiar voice behind Kemrin said, “I figured I would find you here. This was always your favorite place in all the world.”
Kemrin turned to see Lyra standing in the doorway to the trophy room. Lyra was wearing her finest red gown along with silver jewelry, giving her the appearance of a rose’s spirit. Her face displayed an expression that was a mixture of both anger and admiration.
“Hello, Lyra. You look well,” Kemrin said.
“Is that all you have to say to me, Prince of Umbran?” Lyra asked coldly.
Kemrin paused before replying, “What do you want me to say?”
“How about sorry for breaking faith with me before we are even married? I know you already claimed some mistresses and seek to replace me with them. Me! A princess!”
“I didn’t ask for us to be engaged! It was all my wretched father’s planning!”
“Neither did I! We were both pawns in our fathers’ game! Even so, I would have thought you would take your responsibilities as a prince! If you started taking mistresses, sooner or later you would be tempted to marry one of them instead of me, starting a war with Umbran and Valai in the process!”
“Cut the political rubbish! I’ve been force-fed it all my life! I want a life that is mine and I want to marry someone I love! What’s the point of marriage if you cannot love who you are marrying?”
“I feel the same way! I want to marry out of love and be free from the shackles of being royalty, but you and I have no choice! Also, I will not stop preaching politics because your lack of care of either me or your responsibilities is going to get you in trouble!”
“Despite not loving me, you certainly show great concern for me. Why is that?”
Lyra hesitated briefly before answering, “I may not love you romantically, but I care for you as a friend and I don’t want your irresponsibility and recklessness get you in danger. My brother Erik is already mad at you after finding out about your mistresses. I fear he may come after you in the tournament. If I were you, I would grow eyes in the back of my head.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Kemrin paused for a long moment before asking, “How can we make this work?”
Shaking her head, Lyra sighed, “I don’t know yet, but I will ask the gods for strength.”
“I will do the same. Want to go ask them in the household Temple?”
“Of course.”
Kemrin and Lyra then left the trophy room together, leaving behind House Magnus’s greatest treasures.
______
Caelum hid himself in the castle’s library and kept his nose stuck in a copy of Medlum’s Dragon Chronicle, which was a collection of tales and legends of ancient dragons. The chamber was eerily quiet, yet Caelum held his breath as he listened to the slightest sound. In his solitude and alertness, Caelum discovered new secrets about dragons. According to the Dragon Chronicle, a dragon’s hide was impervious to castle-forged steel, yet legends told tales of dragon slayers slaying their prey with Ferruman blades, metal forged from the ore of fallen stars.
“Does this mean that Rhea is vulnerable to Ferruman? I’d better share this with her,” Caelum muttered softly.
Suddenly, someone wrapped their arms around Caelum’s shoulders and started to gently nibble on his ear. The nibble was like a kitten showing affection to one of its parents and it tickled Caelum in a pleasant way. Right away, Caelum knew who it was.
“Hello, Yarma,” Caelum sighed, blushing.
Yarma sat in the seat next to Caelum and asked in a voice as sweet as honey, “How is my favorite prince? I missed you!”
When Caelum looked upon Yarma Ganjol, he saw a princess who possessed all of the primal beauty of the sea. She wore the aqua silk with embroidery made from pearls and seashells. Her dark skin, white hair, and golden eyes all glittered in various colors against the candlelight.
Smiling sheepishly, Caelum said, “And I you. So tomorrow is the big day when we finally become husband and wife, just like we dreamed as children.”
Affectionately gripping Caelum’s hand, Yarma teased, “Aye. For the rest of our days, you will be all mine!”
“You always were fond of teasing me.”
“And you were always a good sport when I teased you, which makes me love you even more.”
“Is your brother planning to join the tournament?”
“Aye. He is planning to participate in the archery contest. Out of all of the bowmen in Aemarr, he is the best. I hope you brother Vaeron will be up to the task.”
“I have no doubt that both of our brothers will perform brilliantly over the next week.”
“Will you come with me to Aemarr, or do you want me to stay here in Umbran with you?”
“I am fine with whatever choice you make. I have never been to Aemarr, but I hear it is warm and humid, as well as the wealthiest trading center in the Empire, second only to Chrysos. Did you bring any delicacies for the feasts?”
Chuckling, Yarma answered, “Oh yes! We have brought all kinds of seafood and tropical fruits. Some of the fish was given to us from trading with our mermaid neighbors.”
“I asked you this once when we were children, but your descriptions were outrageous. What are mermaids like?”
“They are pleasant beings who do not verbally speak in or out of the water. Our fishermen can only scratch the surface of what the sea has to offer, but the mermaids have access to a wider variety of prey than we do. They look almost human yet have similarities with dolphins. If you decide to live in Aemarr, I can introduce you to them. I guarantee you will like them as neighbors.”
“I am sure I will like them.”
Wrapping her arm around Caelum’s, Yarma pulled her groom to his feet and said, “We’d better get to the great hall! The rehearsal feast is about to start!”
______
In the courtyard, Vaeron and Freya sparred with one another as guests continued to pass into the castle. Some of the newcomers stopped to watch the bride and groom clash, making bets on who would win. On the other side of the bailey, Ymir was sparring with Regan Baal with quarterstaffs.
However, Vaeron kept his attention on Freya as she lashed at him with a pair of battle axes. Vaeron defended himself with a heater shield and a longsword. Still, neither Vaeron nor Freya were fighting seriously or attempting to make a killing blow. Instead, they tested one another’s techniques, offenses, and defenses. Their honed muscles flexed as fresh sweat dripped from their skin. It was an intricate dance as the sound of steel against steel rang through the air like an eerie song.
Eventually, the duel ended with Freya ripping off Vaeron’s shield and Vaeron knocking one of Freya’s axes from her grip. They stood their ground and stared one another down with their remaining weapons in hand. Both the prince and the princess panted heavily as they struggled to catch their breath. Vaeron and Freya smiled as they approached each other.
“You have improved from our last bout, Freya,” Vaeron commented.
“As did you. However, I am nowhere near as skilled as my brother. He may be an irresponsible brute most of the time, but he knows how to fight like a beast!” Freya said.
Behind the pair, a voice called out, “Do you two think you can hold your own against me?”
Vaeron and Freya turned around to see Daegar and Mya emerging from the growing crowd of spectators. Daegar brandished a shield and a flanged mace with an eager smirk on his face. Mya appeared uneasy and tried to stay at arm’s length from Daegar.
&
nbsp; Nodding in approval, Freya said, “Now this will be interesting. Do you think we can take your brother on together, Vaeron?”
Twirling his sword, Vaeron answered, “Only one way to find out. Bring it on, brother!”
His sneer broadening, Daegar walked from the crowd towards Vaeron and Freya. Mya, however, rolled her eyes and asked, “Do you really have to engage in this stupidity? The rehearsal feast is about to start.”
Daegar, Vaeron, and Freya ignored Mya and commenced their duel. Vaeron attacked high while Freya attacked low, but Daegar deftly blocked both of their attacks with either his shield or mace. Utilizing his immense bulk, Daegar pushed his opponents back and started swinging both of his weapons with feral ferocity, his blows heavy and direct. Even though Vaeron and Freya were more skilled and agile than Daegar, Daegar was physically stronger and more aggressive. Because of Daegar’s strength and fury, neither Vaeron nor Freya could counter his heavy and erratic blows. Eventually, Daegar kept hammering his brother and future sister-in-law until they both fell to their knees in exhaustion.
In unison, Vaeron and Freya held up their free hands and declared, “We yield!”
After hearing those words, Daegar stopped his onslaught and basked in his victory. The crowd of spectators cheered for Daegar, who raised his weapons above his head and roared with triumph. Many of the spectators exchanged their winning bets with one another as Mya emerged from the mob.
To everyone present, Mya ordered, “All right, my lords and ladies, that’s enough of this nonsense! Go to the great hall for the rehearsal feast!”
Several of the spectators booed at the queen of Varland, but begrudgingly did as they were told. They all knew that it was a death sentence to disobey a queen.
Grabbing Daegar by the wrist, Mya ordered, “Come on, you imbecilic brute!”
As Mya dragged him away, Daegar looked longingly to Vaeron and Freya, mouthing, “Help me!”
Vaeron and Freya chuckled at the sight of Daegar being humbled by his future bride. Dropping their blades, Vaeron and Freya held one another’s hands and followed everyone else inside the castle.
______
After everyone in the courtyard disappeared, Ymir and Regan were alone, still clashing with their quarterstaffs. Compared to the metallic noises that had filled the bailey moments earlier, the wooden staffs made loud smacking sounds, like oversized woodpeckers. As Ymir and Regan continued to duel, the differences in their individual techniques became clear.
Regan fought with precision and finesse, while Ymir fought with fluid yet reckless aggression. Whenever Ymir tried to strike, Regan flawlessly deflected the blow before countering with attacks that Ymir was barely able to block. Eventually, Regan created a brief feint before tripping Ymir with his staff. With Ymir defenseless, Regan pointed one end of his staff inches away from her face. His face emotionless, Regan withdrew his staff before helping Ymir to her feet.
“You beat me again, Regan,” Ymir said cheerfully.
“Because you fight too recklessly. If this was a real fight, you would have been dead a dozen times over. This was me holding back. Way back,” Regan instructed.
“You don’t have to go easy on me,” Ymir scowled.
His face more melancholic, Regan countered, “You know your father would not allow that.”
“What’s the matter?”
“I heard rumors that some of the barons are plotting another uprising against your father and your father suspects me to be in on it. I cannot believe he would think that after all my years of service to him.”
“I know my father has been suspicious of any potential threat to his claim to the Umbran throne, but I never thought he would suspect you of betraying him.”
“Can you blame him? I am the son of the last Baal king. My very existence is a threat to him. At the same time, I can’t stop thinking of all those men who died trying to put me on the throne during the uprisings. They should stop making such vain sacrifices for someone who doesn’t even want to be king.”
“I am envious of my brothers. They all get married tomorrow and I am left alone. If only Father could let me marry you, Regan. That way, the barons will stop rebelling.”
“You really think that would work? I lost my royal pedigree when I was just a year old. I don’t think you would have much to gain by marrying me.”
Blushing, Ymir countered, “Of course I will have something to gain. I will gain you.”
His face still emotionless, Regan changed the subject and said, “We’d better go to the great hall. Everyone is expecting us.”
Shrugging, Ymir said, “Whatever you say, lover.”
As they walked together, Ymir affectionately gripped Regan’s arm while Regan nervously tried to escape Ymir’s embrace.
CHAPTER 8
The great hall in Magnus Keep was alive with joyous activity. Bards and minstrels played songs from all across the north, jugglers and sword swallowers entertained guests, and succulent food filled every table. Among the dishes that were being served were roasted pig with apples in their mouths, decorative peacocks with small flames sputtering from their beaks, towering meat pies powdered with sugar, and colossal platters of exotic fruits and vegetables. Along the center of the hall were dozens of large cauldrons full of mead from both Umbran and Storuuk as well barrels filled fiery wine from Varland and Valai.
All of the intoxicating aromas and exhilarating cheers made the great hall a wondrous place to be. Pewter plates and ivory cups banged against the tables as the guests chanted and belched at the same time. The vast chamber was illuminated both by torches hanging on the walls and ten hearths positioned along the far wall. Tapestries bearing the sigils of every royal House in the northern kingdoms hung from the rafters. At the lord’s table sat all five royal families of the north, watching the celebrations unfold.
Kemrin sat between Lyra and her brother Erik and the tension between the three of them was frosty despite the merriment that was taking place before them. Even so, Kemrin did his best to enjoy his meal, which consisted of a slab of roasted pork, a cluster of figs, and a white bread roll. Next to his plate was a gold chalice filled with mead. When Kemrin sank his teeth into the pork, the meat was so juicy that it relaxed his mind and it left a smoky aftertaste in the back of his throat as he swallowed it. The figs were sweet and crunchy and exploded with flavor in his mouth as he bit into them. His bread roll was as crispy as well-done meat on the outside and as fluffy as a cloud on the inside. When Kemrin drank his mead, it possessed a fiery-sweet flavor and was heavy yet smooth. Overall, this was the best meal Kemrin had had in a while.
Erik jabbed Kemrin in the shoulder and declared, “I hear you are going to be in the jousting competition, Magnus. We will finally get to settle our score.”
“What score would that be?” Kemrin asked intently.
“When you dishonored my sister by taking not one but two mistresses. I am going to avenge her honor by pounding you into the dirt.”
Chuckling, Kemrin countered, “You first need to survive the entirety of the tournament. We both do. There is no guarantee that we will face each other out there.”
“Even if that is the case, I will make sure they make an exception so we can fight,” Erik said venomously.
After a pause, Kemrin said, “I look forward to us being brothers-in-law, Erik Rosa, Prince of Valai.”
“Aye. Whatever, Kemrin Magnus, Prince of Umbran.”
Losing interest in Erik, Kemrin turned his attention to a large collection of wedding gifts. Kemrin and Lyra received a full suit of fluted, black plate armor with gold trimming and chainmail as well as a mirror with a handle carved from a unicorn horn. Caelum and Yarma received a seax with an ivory handle and a mother-of-pearl statue of a mermaid. Daegar and Mya received a mighty battle axe and a complete set of silverware, chalices, and bowls, all forged from the finest Varland steel. Vaeron and Freya received a collection of cloaks made from furs and a collection of masterfully made bows, arrows, and hunting knives. In addition, a
ll members of House Magnus received new and comfortable saddles for their dragons that would replace the crude ones they had previously used.
At that moment, a man stood on top of a table, and Kemrin recognized him as Joe Karly, one of his father’s oldest companions and knights. Despite being an anointed knight, Joe possessed an unkempt appearance with shaggy black hair and a messy beard. His outfit consisted of a plain tunic with multiple stains on it, black trousers, and worn leather boots. In general, Joe did not have the demeanor one would expect from a knight.
Standing firm, Joe announced, “My lords and ladies, I am Sir Joe Karly! I wish to sing a song I conducted for the greatest of our kings, Numen the Slayer, to celebrate the marriage of his sons. Minstrels and bards at the ready!”
On Joe’s command, every musician warmed the strings of their lutes and harps as Joe sang, “He faced the Butcher King and brought him to his knees!”
“Numen! Numen! Numen!” everyone in the hall chanted.
Then Joe continued, “With his bold hand, he took the kingdom’s keys! He tamed the gilded dragon and turned his foes to dust! Now, my lords, their legacy is left to rust! The kingdom slept in darkness and demons ruled the night! From the ashes the gold phoenix rose and brought back the light!”
“Numen! Numen! Numen!”
Kemrin looked up at his father and saw that he was visibly pleased with Joe’s song. What disturbed Kemrin even more was the fact that it looked like Numen drank too much mead from his bronze horn cup. Numen cackled throughout the night with drops of drool and mead slithering from his mouth.
In that moment, Kemrin thought to himself, I will never understand my father. Maybe that is why I resent him so much. They say when Father was younger, he was a difficult man to read. He started out as an honorable heir to a barony, but when he got his hands on the Sword of Power, he shifted between his normal personality to that of an ambitious conqueror. Now that Numen is older, I noticed that Father is either a strictly astute politician one moment and a drunken party animal the next. Which of these men is my real father?
The War of the Gilded Beasts Page 6