then onto pasture.” The boy nodded. “Following, no
one rides, only me, he’ll just fuck anybody else up.”
Harris watched the boy turn with Svend, giving one
final hard slap to Svend’s rear he trotted quickly away,
taking the boy with him. Harris looked to the towering
palace in front, his smile grew, and eyes widened. “It’s
so clean,” he whispered to himself.
Making his way up the steps he was met by a small
man, his small size shocked Harris. He was clearly a
man who had seen many come and go from the
palace, his pale grey and wrinkled skin had seen a
lifetime already, dark grey hair was slick back, he was
the greeter of the Cronnin doors, there to meet
anyone new to the palace. He was hunched over as he
stepped towards Harris. Coming closer, Harris was
surprised the man had not yet tripped on his long
black robes, which seemed to trail in front of him.
“My lord,” greeted the man, “I am Balthus,
welcome to Cronnin.”
“Balthus.” Harris smiled as he came closer, “I
have an appointment with Brenin.”
Balthus seemed thrown. “We call him Sire here,
my lord.”
Harris raised his brows. “And people call me
Harris, they also call me many things, but Harris is the
least offensive…” He began removing his thick black
riding gloves. “People call Brenin many things too,”
mocked Harris, “I believe he would be happy with me
calling him by his name.”
“Yes…well…” Balthus averted, “we also ask that
weapons be left at the door.”
Harris gave a slow, unimpressed blink. “I am a
weapon, it will not be possible.” Balthus glared
towards him. Raising his brows, Harris insisted, “Stare
all you like old man, every blade, every arrow, remains
with me, I am here to see the King, not kill him, if you
refuse then very well, I’ll find another way in.” His
eyes began to examine the palace.
Balthus struggled to decide. “What is it you’re here
to see him regarding?”
“He has appointed me High Chief Commander,”
replied Harris, his eyes continued searching.
Balthus began to relax slightly. “The new
appointed title,” he looked down and nodded, “I am
aware of this, however, you must understand, we have
rules, for a reason. Your need for weapons, is
pointless…” Balthus paused, the calling of the wolves
froze him where he stood, the howling madness took
over the silence of the morning as they echoed from
the distance and came closer to them.
“My need to live, they’re with me at all times,
always have been, always will be…” His patience was
wearing thin, “look, are you going to let me in or not?”
Balthus did not want to. His internal quarrel was
worsening. “I want to let you in, but not them,” he
looked to the sword by Harris’s side.
Harris gave another slow blink; his annoyance was
growing. “Fine, inside, then I will remove them,” he
agreed. Balthus nodded.
Harris was escorted into the main hall, Balthus
took him towards the west wing with four guards and
into the small dining room. Harris began to remove
his weapons. The guards and Balthus looked on in
awe, forty-seven bent daggers, one bow, fourteen
arrows, three swords and two axes were all upon his
person. The guards, Balthus and even Harris were
staggered at the amount.
Harris looked to the guards, his eyes widened as
he warned, “They all stay here.”
Leaving the room, Harris turned to see the guards
lock the room behind them and walk back towards the
main hall. Harris made his way with Balthus to a small
guest room at the side of the dining room. A place for
Harris to sit and wait, while the palace woke. A large
white couch almost filled the room, Harris could not
resist as he collapsed into the couch, face first. His
body melted into the comfort of the soft pillows.
“This will do me fine.”
Balthus glared towards him. “I might also add,”
said Balthus as he stood in the room, holding his
hands to the front of him. Harris awkwardly turned on
the couch facing upwards, his lizard skin armour
seemed to stick to everything. “Our city has some of
the best barbers.”
Harris raised his head, looking down his body, he
glared towards Balthus. “Why would I need a
barber’s?” he asked with a disliking tone. He raised his
brows to Balthus.
“Well…” struggled Balthus, “we have a certain
standard in Cronnin.” His mouth began to draw down.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but returning soldiers often
look as though they’ve not seen a barber’s for years,
you, my lord, well, as I say,” he tried to redeem
himself and avoid Harris’s glare, “we have standards,
I’m sure you will journey out, when you see fit.” He
quickly left the room.
Harris remained glaring at the door. “Nothing
wrong with my hair,” he murmured. He laid his head
back and stared towards the ceiling, his eyes drifted
around the intricate detailing above. His eyes were
heavy, he was finally in the comfort of the Cronnin
palace, and for the first time in years, Harris could
relax with his legs crossed and resting over the arm of
the chair, he entwined his fingers to his front and
slowly let his eyes grow heavy.
“Harris…” Brenin stood in the room, watching
Harris heaped on the couch, seemingly fast asleep.
“I’m awake,” murmured Harris with his face
crushed into the couch. His body had become a
crumpled mess. “I’m resting my eyes,” he mumbled.
With a high-pitched tone and wide eyes, Harelda
turned to Brenin. “He’s resting his eyes.”
Her high-pitched tone forced Harris to shoot up
from the couch. Rubbing his face and trying his best to
wake up he quickly stood. His eyes began to widen.
“Ooh! too fast,” he sat back down frantically blinking
his eyes, “I’ve had a long journey, please forgive me,”
he begged as he looked to Harelda, his smile twisted
to the side of his mouth.
“I understand,” she said with a wide smile,
“perhaps later.” She gave a quick wink to Harris
before she quickly turned and left.
Harris again stood quickly, his eyes widened, he
shook his head and rubbed his face. Regaining focus,
he looked to Brenin, annoyed. “Why would you do
that?”
Brenin’s lip curled up. “Because it’s fun.”
“Well, not funny,” Harris replied, annoyed.
Brenin began to walk from the room. “Plus, I want my
weapons back,” he insisted as he caught up with
Brenin and walked at the side of him, “you need to
speak with your guards, and Balthus. They did well
but shouldn’t have let me in at all.”
Brenin sighed as he turned, his head lowered.
“They knew you were coming.”
“Still, no weapons, throw me in a fucking dungeon
for the night – assuming you have them?”
Brenin slowly nodded, his smile grew. “We have
them, and there’s still time,” he commented as he
walked from the small room, “I do need to ask
though, why my wolves were sent from the gates in the
small hours?” he stopped and turned to Harris.
Harris gave a sigh. “I was ambushed, in the dead of
night by a hoard of gobgee, the dire will sort them,” he
replied, seemingly unphased by the ordeal.
Brenin stopped, his mouth was gaping. “You were
unharmed?” he asked utterly shocked.
Harris turned in the hall and replied, “As I told
your doorman, I am a weapon, a few gobgee aren’t an
issue.”
Brenin was without doubt impressed, however he
was also worried. “Trouble seems to find you, Harris,
let us hope this ends now,” he warned as Harris made
his way to the dining room; the guards unlocked the
door where his weapons still lay upon the table.
Brenin held a derisive tone as he uttered, “This is
the palace of Cronnin, Harris.” He looked to the
weapons; he was in awe at the amount of them. “You
could take out an army with that lot.”
“That’s the idea,” said Harris as he began replacing
his weapons. His many daggers were held with leather
straps and sheaths. Three different belts held his
swords, he wore thick black bracers on both arms,
each had two small daggers inside, his boots also held
room for four daggers each. Finally dressed and
feeling normal again, Harris stepped from the room
with Brenin. He glared towards Balthus as he made
his way through the main hall and towards the
mezzanine.
Balthus quickly scurried towards him. “My lord,
please, you must understand, here you have no need
for them, a sword, singularly, perhaps,” he shrugged,
“but all of those?”
Harris quickly blinked. “I arrived in the early
hours of the morning, from Marrion,” he raised his
voice towards Balthus, “if ever, you’d seen war, you
would know, you can’t travel on the roads now without
something to protect you.” He turned in the hall with
his arms held out. Brenin was lost as he watched
Harris’s performance. “I don’t see an army with me!”
He glared towards Balthus. “Because I am the army, I
am my own protection, these are my protection!”
Balthus averted his eyes, he could feel Harris’s
burning rage getting worse. “Next time, don’t let me
in, no one passes those doors with so much as a file!”
Balthus looked towards Harris, his mouth curled and
gaped with confusion. Harris dropped his anger
completely as he smiled, “You did alright, old man,
next time though, just get the guards, throw them out,
no weapons, stick to your own rules.” He placed a
reassuring hand on Balthus’s shoulder which made
him jump.
The many councillors coming and going from the
halls to the dining hall watched Harris as he walked up
the stairs with Brenin, Harris was sure to look back at
them and give a wink, which seemed to fuel their hate.
Leading him towards his chambers, the guards to the
side stared at Harris.
“Eyes forward,” said Harris with a high tone and
eyes wide.
Stepping into the chambers, Harris made his way
towards Brenin’s desk. He saw a small girl sat on the
mezzanine in Brenin’s chambers.
“Good morning, Harris,” she called to him.
“Morning, small, child,” he replied, utterly
confused.
“Are you not taking lessons with Harelda today?”
asked Brenin as he looked towards Librye.
“Not today, I do have plans though,” she made her
way from the mezzanine, Librye walked directly
towards Harris and Brenin. Brenin began to sit at his
desk, Harris took the chair opposite. He saw the
enchanting girl make her way, confidently towards
another chair at the back of Brenin’s desk.
Harris turned to Brenin with his mouth gaping, he
asked, “Are you going to introduce me?”
Brenin glanced towards Librye and back to Harris.
“Apologies,” said Brenin as he gave a smile towards
Harris, “this is Librye, she is my ward.” Brenin began
sifting through the papers on his desk, “as good as my
daughter.”
Harris looked to Librye, her questioning look
intrigued him, he remembered being a child in a
palace himself, although where he grew up, the
extravagance was not as visible.
“Good morning, Librye,” he greeted. Librye
nodded slightly. “I must say, your name intrigues me,”
Harris looked towards her as he narrowed his eyes,
“the name, Librye, saved for the best of the best, your
parents must have thought highly of you.”
“I didn’t know them,” said Librye.
The usual sorrow he would see from orphaned
children seemed absent in Librye, her friendly face
and bright wide eyes spoke to Harris of a hidden truth.
He knew extraordinarily little about Librye, but his
interest was sparked, as she sat and listened.
“I apologise, it’s awful to hear that,” replied Harris.
“Don’t be,” said Librye, “I cannot mourn for those
I didn’t know, I’m sure I will someday, but for today, I
would rather live, learn, love and laugh.”
Harris quickly blinked; his mouth was gaping.
“Molgron,” he remembered the book, he had heard
those words before, “if I remember rightly,” he placed
his fingers to his chin, he looked towards the window
behind Brenin’s desk, his eyes held a look of
reflexion. “Today is the day we live, learn, love and
laugh, we mourn with those we leave behind, a day
spent in mourning, is a day more, that the gods rejoice
in the loss of your love, for they are the virtuous, the
ones who hold their hands and their hearts, until you
rejoice once more, in the arms of those you love. A
wonderful work,” he commented. He looked to
Librye with a twisted smile, he placed his hands on his
lap.
Librye was overjoyed, she sat forward in her chair.
“You know Molgron?”
“Of course,” said Harris as he leant towards her,
“he was once a commander too, but he was never
involved with war, I believe he was given the title, by a
king,” Harris leant back in his chair, “who loved his
poetry so much, he couldn’t help but name him as a
commander of the heart.” Harris clearly held more
knowledge than Brenin gave credit. Brenin sat
shocked in his chair. Harris could see the look of awe
Brenin held as he turned, Harris widened his eyes. “I
am educated, however, Librye, I apologise, we have
work to d
o,” he insisted as he glared towards Brenin.
“Work,” mumbled Brenin. He continued
rummaging around the papers on his desk, he could
not seem to find what he was looking for, scrolls began
rolling onto the floor.
Librye stood, she rushed towards Brenin’s desk.
Taking several scrolls, she passed certain ones to
Harris. He took the scrolls from her tiny hands. His
smile widened and eyes lit, the girl was a child, with
the manner of a young lady.
“Here, these are the kingdoms, the losses are
mapped on these. I am sure that one day, Brenin will
find a way to organise,” she looked towards Brenin
with a slow blink and tight lips.
Brenin shook his head. “I don’t know what I
would do without you,” said Brenin as he smiled
towards her.
“We would lose you to paperwork, you’ve also
received word from King Iorn, the new prince has
been born in Volnot, I believe they’ve named him
Igor, I have already arranged for a gift to be sent.” Her
manner was staggering to Harris, she was an absolute
enigma.
As she turned to sit back in her chair, councillor
Connor walked directly into the chambers, he did not
seem to give any notice to the meeting that was already
happening, Librye could not help herself.
“Were you never taught to knock?” asked Librye
with disapproval. Harris could not help but snigger as
he tried to sit silently.
Connor continued his way towards the desk, giving
a scornful look towards Librye as he did. “Sire, we
need to hold council, your absence is very
disagreeable,” slated Connor.
Brenin looked to Connor from under his brow. “I
am sure you’re capable of going on without me for
today, I have important matters to tend to.”
Connor stepped closer; he held his hands out for
Brenin to listen. “But, Sire, you have been absent for
far too long.”
With a stern voice, Harris insisted, “He said no,
Councillor,” he twisted from his seat as he stood, “the
council are capable; we have important matters to tend
to. Matters which may ease your duty.” He stepped
closer to Connor, his broad frame was overpowering
to Connors slender and elderly self.
Connor could not find the strength to argue. His
mind was filled with knowledge of the Commander
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