Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One)

by Julian Saheed

The swirling cloud of smoke filled the room with a thick spicy odour that stained the heavy furs and blankets covering most of the furniture in the room. A large table, littered with empty bottles and long forgotten parchments, stood solemnly in its centre, accompanied by a dark wooden chair that was occupied by the mansion's owner. With each puff of the pipe, the pale man sent a new stream of tobacco smoke flying into the air to mingle with the already overpowering cloud enveloping him.

  A strange sound, much like the rustling of fallen leaves in a cold wind, sounded in the room and the figure looked up to find the most powerful man in Kovi standing before him.

  "You are late," said the seated man in a coarse, sickly voice.

  Zephra lowered his gaze and stared with tight eyes at the seated man. "I arrive when I see fit, Baldoroff. Remember that I am doing you a favour by attending this meeting."

  King Afhill Baldoroff tried to cast a defiant look at Zephra, but held his comments to himself. He was in no position to show the ruler of the army at his doorstep any disrespect. Zephra moved over to a shabby chair and let out a shudder. "Why in the name of the gods do you not keep a fire lit in this place?" he snarled. "These northern wastes are too cold even for Dargonian blood."

  Baldoroff began to laugh, but soon let out a rough cough as his chest flared with pain. "Auldney may be a cold land. But it is where you will find the true men of this world."

  Zephra did not seem to take notice of Baldoroff's comment as he took a seat. He kept his eyes focused on the scarred and sickly face of the King of northern Feldom. "I see the rumours are true," he said.

  Baldoroff shifted his eyes from Zephra's piercing gaze and tapped out the tobacco from his pipe. "Yes. They say that there is something eating the inside of my chest. If I am lucky I will survive two more years. If not...the disciples say I will not see more than nine months," Baldoroff replied, suddenly slamming his fist into the table. "Nine months, Zephra. What kind of cruelty have the gods bestowed upon me?"

  "You are a heartless and egotistical oppressor," replied Zephra. "You are receiving what you deserve."

  "This from a man who is feared by all of the people on this world," spat back Baldoroff.

  "I may be feared," returned Zephra. "But I reward my loyal servants and will bring my own people to greatness. I do not throw my kin away, to rot in prison over stealing a loaf of bread."

  The hair on Baldoroff's neck began to rise in chagrin. "I rule how I see fit. Punishment will be dealt out to those that deserve it and no mercy will be shown to anyone. That is the how a true king rules."

  "A true king would have taken Feldom for himself by now," said Zephra. "Because of your weakness you now find yourself cornered by two armies. Your allies are running thin, Afhill. Will Larthstone and Polthney stand by you if Dieter Castaneda declares that Auldney is an enemy of Feldom."

  Sinking his heavy head into his hands, Baldoroff let out a long frustrated breath. He knew that Zephra was toying with him, but he was reaching the end of his endurance. There was not much more that he could do to stop his city from being torn apart.

  "Now, now. Do not give up," said Zephra in a mockingly melodic tone. "I know why you asked to see me and I may be able to help you keep your people alive."

  "What is to stop you from taking Auldney? You claimed Precedin as your own."

  Zephra folded his arms across his chest casually. "There is no doubt that I could take this city as I have the mighty city of war," he said derisively. "But what would that get me. Just another piece of land and an empty castle to add to my growing collection. There are much more useful things that Auldney could do for me. If I kept it in the hands of men who are loyal to me."

  A scraping cough left Baldoroff's dry mouth. "You wish to form an alliance then?" he muttered, with a glimmer of hope in his eye.

  "A truce is what you seek," replied Zephra through narrow eyes. "I seek to dictate your activities to ensure that your resources are used to my advantage. And once I have cleansed every inch of this world, I might just consider allowing your people live."

  The defiant character in Baldoroff urged him to retaliate against Zephra, but he knew that this was the best offer he was going to get. It was his firm belief that Feldom was living out its last days and only one side was going to win this war. "I would still have power to govern over my own people?" he asked through a demoralized voice.

  "As far as I am concerned you can send as many of your own people to their death as you wish," replied Zephra.

  "And what would I be doing for you?"

  Zephra's mouth twisted into a grin. "Oh, I will not ask much of you. Simply keep your forces locked away in your castle and away from my men. And if I ask for supplies you will send them to me with no questions asked."

  Baldoroff wiped his sticky forehead and wondered at how he was managing to sweat on one of the coldest days in months. As much as he did not want to give in to Zephra's demands, this was the only way that he could secure his dreams. "If I do this for you, you will keep your armies away from the North?"

  "Auldney, Larthstone and Polthney will be considered part of my empire," replied Zephra with a fake proud gesture.

  Baldoroff nodded reluctantly. "Very well Zephra. This deal I accept."

  "You had no choice in the matter."

  "And what should I do about Castaneda's ultimatum?" asked Baldoroff. "He has threatened to attack Auldney if I do not swear my allegiance to his bloodline."

  "How will he manage this if my army stands in his way? You will send a reply to Dieter Castaneda telling him that the creation of the nation of Durraas is inevitable. The separation of the northern cities from Feldom will be my final punishment to Dieter before I come to the City of Skiye and rip his head from his shoulders."

  Baldoroff began to cough violently, but once he had recovered he held a dark grin on his face. "Then let us shake on it."

  Zephra rose from his seat, moved up to the table and passed slowly behind Baldoroff's chair. Afhill felt a shiver crawl through his body as Zephra walked by and was frightened by the ghostly aura that emanated from the King of Dargon. He had never felt such a mind numbing sense of fear and he looked up with a face full of horror. "W...What are you?" he stuttered.

  "I am Zephra, the future ruler of this world," he replied slowly and with a wave of his hands he was gone, leaving only a cloud of black mist in his wake.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  DUATHNIN