The Ivory Knight

Chapter 7

The ballroom fell silent. Men and women turned their heads, their eyes wide in alarm, seeking the source of the scream. Adeleina's throat constricted in fear. Panic fluttered in her chest as she abruptly stood and whisked towards her father, leaving a stunned Damien where he sat. 

There, at the castle doors, a man flanked by two guards was dragged towards King Corandell. Adeleina immediately understood why someone had screamed. His face was nearly unidentifiable as a man's face, so covered was it in dark blood. His clothes, too were spattered in the crimson liquid. Caked mud from his boots crumbled and smeared onto the immaculately polished marble floor, leaving a dragging trail of dirt and bright red droplets in his wake. Adeleina's heart froze in fear and disgust; her throat caught in her breath. What terrible things had been done to this man, for him to arrive so disfigured, so horrifying? 

The man was dragged forward by his armpits, the guards' own hands being bloodied in their efforts to keep the man from crumpling to the ground like a rag doll. 

"Sire," one of them panted, managing to deliver a short bow to the King. King Corandell stood at the head of the crowd of craning heads, his expression mirroring that of many in the room. "This man arrived at the South entrance on a horse, alive, though barely conscious. He informed us that his village in the fief of Gervan was attacked tonight--"

Panicked shouts and more shrill screams flooded the room, duchesses and princes alike roaring and shrieking. Their words tumbled over one another, creating a tumult of chaos.

"A raid? On the night we all reside in Corandell? This cannot be a coincidence!"

"Our lives are at stake--"

"--demand to leave immdiately!"

"Could it possibly--"

"Silence."

The single word had been uttered with such authority and demand, even the drunkest of kings cowered under it. The ballroom fell silent once more. King Corandell stepped forward until he was mere feet away from the guards and the bloodied man, his face grave and troubled. Adeleina herself was on the verge of panic. Corandell has kept it's borders intact for nearly five decades now; it had been many years since another kingdom made an advance towards Corandell's terriroty. What had changed? Had a neighboring king set it's eyes on the bucolic hillsides of Adeleina's kingdom?

"Which village?" King Corandell demanded, a tinge of terror touching his tone. His hands trembled slightly, the fingers curled into tight fists. "Attacked by whom?" Adeleina stared at him. Of course a king should be concerned for the welfare of his people, but generally not in such a familiar manner. Her father was acting as if one of his own family members had been attacked, for heavens' sake. Surely this was not a typical reaction?

The guard who had not yet spoken now responded.

"The village of Ersaw, Sire," The king's shoulders released their tension and his fist unclenched as the wild look fled from his eyes. Adeleina's curiosity about her father's peculiar reaction heightened, despite the gravity of the larger situation. "The man fell unconscious immediately after delivering this information, Your Honor. He didn't say who had attacked. I don't think he's in a right state to answer any more questions," The guard added as an afterthought, sparing a glance at the ragged figure in his hands.

King Corandell agreed, his eyes resting on the sagging figure.

"Take him to the infirmary. Summon Sir Isaac, Sir Ackerley, and Sir Paige. We ride for Ersaw immediately." A whispy-whiskered courtier dashed off, presumably to alert the aforementioned knights. King Corandell turned to Adeleina, his face darkened with solemn foreboding. "Adeleina, my dear, I'm so sorry this had to happen on your special night," Adeleina, however much she detested the betrothal ball, nodded in agreement. Never in her father's reign had Corandell been attacked by another kingdom, and it worried her. The quiet years had lulled the kingdom into a sense of security. They wer utterly unprepared for a siege in one of their fiefs, much less a full-blown war.