Plight of an Empire

Chapter Thirty Three- part 1: Audriel

Mynoa, Rundil

A late springtime snow fell from the grey clouds swirling above Mynoa.  The stark whiteness was a constant reminder of the white demons that meant to wash over the city, just as the snow had.  If what the men said was true, that only meant they were growing closer and stronger.

Audriel looked out of the window of her bedchamber onto the white city.  More and more people came every day—from the south as well as the north.  Bandits patrolled the roads instead of guards in the south.  Entire villages were lost, put to the torch or just abandoned.  People went to whatever cities had tall enough walls and as many guards to keep them safe.  But if the Behemoths come, none of you will be safe.

She stroked the golden amulet around her neck and sighed.  Even after the Behemoths were all killed again—if they were all killed again, she would be stuck in another war.  The peace her father’s fathers strived to build had been smashed to bits with just a swipe of a Behemoth’s paws.  But she was a Pellinor—a golden eagle—she would guide her people back to peace and safety.

She took a deep breath and turned from the window.  She caught a glance of herself in the looking-glass.  She saw a tired girl who resembled Audriel Pellinor, but did not look like the once lively princess.  The bags under her eyes belonged to the woman, High Queen Audriel Pellinor.  With the palm of her hand, she smoothed a bit of frizz in her hair.  She still had to look the part of beautiful lady, despite how she felt inside.  For a moment, she wished her mother was there to talk to her and help her.  But Elviva was safer in Thebis, beyond the grasp of the Behemoths.

A knock at the door drew her attention.  Tella jumped from her seat in the corner of the room and went to the door.  She opened it a crack, speaking in hushed tones with the visitor.  Audriel watched her in the reflection of the looking-glass.

“Your uncle,” the handmaiden called over her shoulder, “Sofur.”

Audriel turned and nodded and Tella opened the door for him.  Sofur entered, clad in a quilted doublet of crimson and gold with an eagle sown in black on the arm.  He bowed to her.  “Your Grace, Lord Jevon Dedrik of Shanderstead and Lord Weldem Haerich of Elis Rock have come with a combined force of thirty thousand men, all armed with Iceglass and carrying more ore to be smithed.”

Her jaw nearly dropped with surprise.  But euphoria washed over her in an instant.  “Truly?  Are they here?”

He nodded.  “Yes, they are treating with some of our own in the Great Hall.  They have even more news of forces heading west and to Didaan.”

Her smile faltered.  “They aren’t aware of the civil war with Didaan yet, are they?”

“No.  They were gone from their homes by the time we sent the letters.”

She inhaled deeply through her nose.  “Then I will be the one to tell them.  Send Arkayus to the Great Hall.  I want him to be there as well.  He will be able to shed more light on the subject than I will be able to.”

“A wise decision.”  He gave her a smile, yet proud smile.  That smile gave her a wash of warmness all over.  He was the closest thing she had to her mother now.  “I will have him sent.”  He gave another bow before taking his leave.

With one last glimpse in the glass, she gave a little nod to herself and followed her uncle out the door.  A pair of Brothers led her to the Great Hall.  Even from a distance she could hear how full it was.  The voices resounded down the corridors like buzzing bees.  When she entered, she saw that her estimate had not been wrong.  Almost every seat had been filled, save for the table at the dais.