Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One)
Page 144
Novokai moved through the Guardhouse of Oril, distaste in his expression. He stopped at several points to admire a tapestry or sculpture that had survived the destruction, then moved further into the building.
Things had not gone well for the ancient disciple. After losing Queen Triel and Christill to the Thaldun Blades he had worked hard to avoid Zephra's punishment. A few months ago Zephra's threats would have caused only mild concern, but something had changed in the arrogant King of Dargon. There was a new power lurking behind his features that frightened Novokai, and he was not about to test Zephra's patience.
In order to avoid Zephra's wrath he had volunteered to oversee the campaign against the Alliance from the front line. Novokai had reasoned that there was no safer place for him at this point in time than the very border of the warring nations.
He pushed his way past a group of Dargonian soldiers and entered the amphitheatre in the centre of the building. He looked down to the floor of the room to see Zephra's monstrous General standing over a Feldonian prisoner who was tied to a bloodstained chair. The map which made up the amphitheatre floor was now stained with human remains and the sight of Azbaar's next victim brought Novokai's last meal back to his mouth. Even for the wicked disciple of Gushkall this was too much.
He waited a moment whilst Azbaar used a jagged knife to finally end the soldiers torment and then spoke from the top level. "Are you quite done there?"
Zephra's creation turned and cast his black, lifeless eyes towards Novokai.
"Your master brings news," Novokai continued. "Everything has gone as planned. Soon we will begin the next stage of this war."
The twisted face of the Dargonian general contorted into an evil smile and Novokai turned and left the amphitheatre.
* * *
Galdovan, the mighty bastion of Dargonian civilisation was awash with people. In the midst of the icy city, citizens lined the streets to watch the procession of men marching into the capital's centre. A group of two hundred men had entered the main gates during the sun's setting and within minutes the entire populous had moved to the main street to see if the rumours were true.
At the head of the mail clad soldiers walked a figure in fine silver armour. The onlookers recognised him instantly and the rumours soon turned into dire theories and predictions.
In the distance, in the eastern quarter of the city, loomed a massive domed building, peaked with a statue shaped to resemble a man's arm reaching for the sky. In its hand was the eight sided star of Gushkall, made from crushed stone and rubies and lit from behind by torches. This is where the group was headed. They marched unheeded and in their wake the people of Galdovan followed.
Finally they reached the domed structure, within which lay the Academy of Gushkall and King's palace. From the front of the group the silver soldier broke off from the bulk and made his way up the steps into the building with twenty of his soldiers formed up behind him. Here the populous stopped and waited for they were not allowed into the Academy.
The intruder was not stopped as he walked through the entryway and into the great hall of the Academy. The arched windows aligning the walls were dark as the sun had set minutes before. He continued to the end of the hall were there stood two massive iron bound doors. He reached up to the doors with shaking hands and pushed the portal open.
As they entered the large room they saw the King of Dargon, Zephra Hermagoras, sitting calmly on his golden throne. The silver soldier stepped into the centre of the room and removed his helmet.
Zephra stared into Aldan's eyes and remembered the very moment he had entered this council room, with Luschia and Mandigal at his side, and murdered this man's father. "You dare interrupt my council, Cousin," Zephra said, smiling menacingly.
The men seated around the two figures, some of whom had been there when Zephra had murdered his predecessor, waited with their hearts pounding fearfully.
Aldan took a deep breath and thought of his son Friedrich. "Zephra Hermagoras, too long have you ruled from my father's seat of power. You are a plague upon the people of this nation, one that I intend to get rid of. I have come here to claim my rightful place as King of Dargon."
As the crowd burst into voice, Zephra's eyes narrowed dangerously and pierced into Aldan's own. The Duke of Vladistov did not turn his gaze away. He straightened his back and thought only of his son, who he loved more than anything in this forsaken world.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Julian Saheed's love of fantasy came from reading the works of Raymond E Feist and David Eddings as a youth. He completed a Bachelor of Commerce at the University of Melbourne, with Honours in Marketing, and now works in the Australian banking industry. He resides in Melbourne. This his first published novel.
You can find more of his work at juliansaheed.com