Otherworld: A Son of Two Realms

Chapter 58: "Reunion"

A rough pair of gloved hands grabbed Jack's shoulders, violently turned him onto his stomach, and brought him up to his knees.

Cera stood before him, smirking confidently. When they had first met in Perdan, the warlock had dressed simply, hiding his true power behind an understated black doublet. But now, every piece of clothing professed royalty and excess, from his violet- and gold-trimmed tunic to his shimmering cloak embroidered with the royal seal and fastened around his neck with a jewel-encrusted broach. A pair of impressively-armored knights flanked him, each with a hand resting on their sword pummel.

Rufus was no where to be found.

"Welcome back to Guildron, Jackson Ward." Cera's words dripped with malicious satisfaction.

He said the words with the gusto of an actor on stage, waving his arm dramatically. Jack looked around and suddenly knew where he was. He still remembered being led through here as a prisoner of the King.

The White Palace's royal throne room was filled to the rafters with court members, all ornately dressed in myriad colors and fabrics. The most impressive-looking aristocrats stood on the ground floor, pushed back against the pillars, keeping their distance from Jack and Cera, either out of respect or fear. The lesser lords and ladies filled the two balcony levels, pressing against one another for the best view of the theatrics below.

Before he could admire the scene further, Cera stepped deep into his personal bubble, examining him from head to toe. "I see you have...matured since our last meeting. And you come to us more prepared."

A soldier took Jack's blade from its sheath, then gasped, dropping Brigand's Blade on the marble tile. The aristocrats within view gasped as well.

Cera stared in genuine amazement, then leaned down to retrieve the Blade. "You continue to surprise me. Marcus was always full of surprises too. It's one thing I hated most about him." Cera nodded to the soldier, who quickly composed himself and unstrapped the scabbard from Jack's waist. Cera sheathed the sword and handed it to one of his knights.

"You come to us armed with your father's weapon," Cera continued, speaking to both Jack and the audience. "After escaping through the portal that you swore could not be opened. What are we to make of this?"

All eyes were on Jack. He knew the next few words could mean life or death. "I only came for what you stole from me. I mean Guildron no harm and will leave in peace once you return Kate to me."

"How can I barter with a criminal?" Cera said. "You cravenly escaped a death sentence that I passed and, with your rebel friends, killed my men. Royal justice demands that you complete that sentence." From the crowd, there came murmurs of agreement.

For two years, Rufus had taught Jack every skill necessary to survive - except, apparently, how to debate.

"When I escaped execution, you were in open war against the Crown," Jack said, thinking fast. "Why should I pay for a crime committed against the Crown's own enemies?"

More murmurs of agreement, but this time for Jack. Cera regarded him, not with outrage, but with a playful grin. He was enjoying this. "So you have become a lawyer as well as a warrior since we last met?" Cera said to a few light chuckles. "Very well. If you wish to question the King's justice, then why don't you ask him yourself?"

Jack turned as the crowd parted around the golden throne. A young man slouched on the throne, one arm popping up his head, a golden crown sitting askew on golden hair. His free hand tapped restlessly on the throne and his classically handsome features sagged with a weariness normally seen in men twice his age. Korda Wayland looked less like a monarch and more like a kid sitting in time-out.