***
Phane sauntered casually into the council chamber of the Reishi Army Regency on Karth. His voyage had taken a day longer than he’d wanted but that didn’t matter. He was here now. He looked each man in the eye as he moved closer to the table with each languid step.
The men at the table regarded him with a mixture of suspicion, fear, and anger. He shouldn’t have been able to walk into their council chamber unchallenged and unannounced. Yet here he was and his demeanor was anything but expected.
They were all wearing armor adorned with an ornately stylized letter R emblazoned in gold on their polished steel breastplates. All nine of them were slightly overweight but each had clearly served his time in the field. Some bore scars. Others simply wore the grizzled look of a man who’d seen his share of death.
Phane flashed his best boyish smile at them, knowing that it would only chafe them further. He wore no armor, carried no weapon, and showed no respect. He regarded them casually for a brief moment before he reached across the table and took the wine goblet from the man in the center chair and hopped up on the table, sitting sideways so he could look over his shoulder at the man sitting in the seat of power, the center seat of the council table.
These men were the General Council of the Reishi Army Regency. They ruled half the island of Karth, with the House of Karth ruling the other half. They had been at war with each other, off and on, for the better part of the last two thousand years.
At the end of the Reishi War, a significant force of the Reishi Army had been trapped on Karth when the Reishi fell. Since the House of Karth had sided with the rebel forces against the Reishi, they were natural enemies. The war never really ended for the people of Karth. The island was governed by tyranny on both sides and the people bore the brunt of the burden.
Phane took a long drink from the goblet, draining it completely, then casually tossed it on the floor. When he flashed another of his boyish smiles at the man in the center seat, one of the other Generals stood and drew his sword.
“How dare you? Guards!” he bellowed. When none came rushing in he frowned slightly and lunged at Phane, who simply slipped off the table and danced out of the way of the blade. He stopped just out of sword range and stood pointing at the man and laughing in mockery.
The man’s face turned red and his mouth opened and closed in rage. Phane took another step backward and motioned with both hands to come for him, while wearing a big dopey grin and snickering at the grizzled old soldier.
The other men all wore masks of stone-cold anger but each held his seat at the table, staring at the intruder with a mixture of caution and disbelief. The man with the sword vaulted over the table but before he could hit the ground, while he was at the apex of his vault, Phane’s smile contorted into a look of murderous glee. He thrust his hand out toward the man.
With one hand on the table and still in midair, the man simply burst apart as if a force of tremendous energy had struck him square in the chest hard enough to turn his body to pulp and splatter his parts around the room. The bulk of his mass smashed into the wall behind the table with such force that it liquefied on impact, squirting gore in every direction. One arm thudded onto the table as it came free of his torso at the shoulder. One of his legs spun end over end through the air and hit the edge of the table, leaving a lurid red splotch before flipping off onto the ground and settling in a pile of gore framed by a slowly expanding puddle of blood. His head skittered into the corner of the room and spun slowly to a stop, leaving a red circle painted on the floor around it.
The remaining eight men sat in stunned fear, splattered with the pulverized flesh, bone, blood, and guts of a man who only moments before had sat at their table. Phane giggled for a moment before his face took on the look of another murder waiting to happen. He drew himself up and deliberately cleared his throat.
“Gentlemen, I am Prince Phane Reishi.” Their faces went white behind masks of splattered blood. “I am here to assume command of the Reishi Army Regency and deliver you victory over the traitorous House of Karth.”
The blood-soaked men all looked back and forth at each other, little bits of viscera and bone falling from their hair when they moved their heads. The man in the center chair stood slowly and bowed stiffly, dripping blood on the table.
“Prince Phane, we are at your service.” There was a slight tremor to his voice.
Phane flashed his most boyish smile. “Of course you are, General. You and your men can get cleaned up now, and do something with this mess.” He gestured around at the table with a look of exaggerated disgust. “Then I would like to inspect my army.” He turned and sauntered off, talking over his shoulder as he left the scene of carnage, “In the meantime, I’ll make myself at home.”
Thinblade (Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book One) Page 35