Sons of Ironstorm - Book 1: Griffon's Rise

Thoughts

"That had to be the most useless heap of drivel I've ever heard fall from the mouth of a man claiming to serve our Creator!" the Silvermane snarled, his eyes blazing blue with anger as he watched the bent back of the retreating Rector. Mern was quickly making for the shelter of his palace as if he felt the hot eyes that burned into his back from the royal box, a handful of Alric's druids hovering about him to insure he made no trouble. The last words of the Rector's requiem, the source of Festus' anger, still hung in the still spring air as if to mock the great war king's indignation.

With over fifty winters under his belt, the gnarled king of Keva still had the fire of Ironstorm burning brightly through his veins and he angrily fingered the hilt of his big northern broadsword belted at his waist as he stared after Mern.

"I nigh jumped out of this damn box and introduced that fool to several spans of cold steel. My eldest deserved better than that!"

"Now, now, Festus, it was a more than adequate requiem." His queen, the Lady Dana, a deceptively frail-looking woman who was not only a dynamo of limitless energy and will, but the Queen of Keva, and the matriarch of House Ironstorm, along with being Festus' wife of over thirty cycles, patted his arm soothingly as she spoke. It wasn't coincidence that the arm she patted was his sword arm.

"There's no need to threaten a man of the Creator under your breath. It's bad enough for Jeorgina to see her husband buried and her eldest making a blood vow without you going on and on about some druid, no matter how foolish the man was!"

At mention of Lawrence's blood vow, the look of anger on Festus' face swiftly faded to be replaced with the warm glow of pride. A broad smile split the weathered face.

"Aye, that was marvelous, wasn't it?" ee softly remarked. "My grandson making his first blood vow. Skin and bones, that was magnificent!"

"Shush, you old fool," Dana hissed, tugging at Festus' arm. "Here comes your son's bride. Don't be upsetting her with talk of blood vows and war, when she should be remembering the joy she had with Jerald."

"Yes, dear," the Silvermane replied with a grin, the lop-sided smile only broadening at Dana's chilling gaze of reproach at his condescending tone. It took only a moment before that puckish grin warmed his wife's wintry look and, against her will, she found herself smiling.

"You old rascal," Dana whispered fondly, a thin hand rising to caress the grizzled face of her husband. "What am I going to do with you?" Then Jeorgina was near enough to be heard.

"Thank you both for getting here so quickly," Jeorgina greeted them warmly as she stepped back into the royal box following her hurried conference with Captain Markus, who had received word on Lawrence's condition from one of the Griffons that went with Cor to the infirmary. Thankfully the master healer was able to swiftly stem the bleeding and bind the hand before too much damage and blood loss occurred.

"Of course, my dear," Festus rumbled as Jeorgina gave first him a quick hug then a longer one to Dana. "We wanted to be here, not only to see our son off on his final journey, but to lend you our strength and support as well."

As the Ironstorm matriarch stepped back from her much taller daughter-in-law, she reached up to reassuringly touch Jeorgina's pale face.

"Don't worry yourself a bit, my dove," she said softly. "We'll take care of everything and give you all the time you need to properly mourn your husband." Taking Jeorgina by the hand, she began leading her down a set of stairs in the back part of the box that led down into an open tent set aside for the royal party.

"Your parents said to tell you that they would be here within the next day or so."

"Thank you," Jeorgina whispered as she folded her slender mother-in-law into another warm embrace once they stepped into the tent, before drawing back. "But I almost think I should just get back into it as soon as possible. I think I'll forget my pain much faster that way."

"And I tend to agree with her," Jorge announced from the top of the steps leading down into the tent. "As her chief advisor, anyway." He finished with a wry smile as he stepped down into the tent and walked over to give his father a slap on the back and a hug to his mother. He smiled sadly over at Jeorgina as he stepped away from Dana.

"As much as we would all like to take some time and ponder life now, there's too much to do to allow for even the slightest pause in our efforts."

"Aye, my son." Festus stepped forward with a nod. "With Hernak now in our hands, it's time we gather our armies and hunt down this dog of a sorcerer, Bren, his black magic responsible for, ..."

"I said no talk of war, Festus!" Dana snapped with a frown, cutting her grizzled war king husband short. "We're here to mourn the loss of our son and grandchildren. Not plot revenge against his killer."

This time, however, no puckish grin touched the Silvermane's lips as he slowly raised a clenched fist.

"Stone and bone, woman, this is how House Ironstorm mourns!" he growled. "With blade and fire, ..." Before he could finish, a slender officer in the tabard of the Queen's Own slipped into the tent and bowed.

"Forgive the intrusion, your Majesties, your Highness. But the assembled lords and ladies of the land await your pleasure in the main tent."

"Thank you, colonel. Please inform them we will attend them shortly," Jeorgina softly commanded and, with another bow, the officer departed.

Looking after him sadly, Jeorgina remarked.

"I see it's time for one last piece of duty before this dark day is done!"

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