An elf dressed in white walked over and grasped the reins from my hands. I didn’t have a chance to thank her before she pulled my elk away.
In the same direction they walked, I noticed Fadine. She cut through the crowd towards me. From her pinched face, I knew something was amiss. Her lips were pulled firm into a frown and two large, dark shadows hung beneath her eyes.
“The king requests your presence,” she whispered under her breath, closing the gap between us and passing a small parchment roll to me. “This was given to me as soon we arrived back.”
“Do you know why?” I unrolled it, reading over the simple message for my presence. It gave no reason, and had clearly been rushed. The handwriting was almost not legible.
“I do not, nor do I wish to know his business, but you are to follow me immediately. I am sure King Dalior does not want to be kept waiting.” She grasped my forearm, her grip strong enough to leave a bruise. “Come.”
She dragged me along. Many watched, their muffled whispers trailing behind us as we passed.
“You’re hurting me!” I winced. “I’m not going to run off…”
“Sorry,” she replied, dropping my arm. “My mind’s all over the place.”
I kept up as her pace quickened.
“How did you stop them?” she asked.
“I can’t remember. It’s all a blur.” I lied. “Did Hadrian not say?”
“No, he didn’t.”
We walked through the throne room till we reached a door beyond the dais. Two guards stood on either side, both who nodded to Fadine once she showed them the King’s note. Whilst we passed, I kept my eyes to the floor.
They were not the last guards we had to get past. At every door, Fadine flashed the note before we could move ahead. I’d not been so far into the palace’s winding corridors, but was certain the extra security was a result of the events at Nasamel.
When reached the final door it was a barren of guards.
“Strange, the Commander is not here,” Fadine said, “It’s your lucky day. Take off your sword and bow and give me those strange gloves you wear. It wouldn’t be suitable to take them in with you.”
I nodded and pulled the bow and arrows from their holder on my back. I unbuckled the belt from around my waist and passed the short sword that hung from it to her. It took me longer to unclasp the clawed gloves, but they soon came free and I dropped them into her waiting hands.
“I’ll have them dropped off into your room,” she said, knocking twice against the metal surface of the door. It was the first of its kind I’d seen. An elaborate choice, fitting for the King.
Fadine didn’t wait for an answer, instead pushed the door open and urged me inside the room beyond.
King Dalior didn’t look at me when I entered. He lay across a maroon seat, lifting small fruits from the platter that lay next to him before dropping them into his waiting mouth. Purple juices spilled from his lips, running down his chin before he wiped their trails with the back of his jewelled hand. He seemed relaxed, not what I expected.
The room clouded with drifting smoke from burning incenses. I breathed in, taking in the scents of jasmine and pine that clung in the air, clearing my airways of the memory of burning flesh and wood that seemed to cling to me from Nasamel.
The room was dark, the only light source spilled from the open window at the back of the room. The sky was a deep grey.
I turned back to the door expecting to see Fadine, but she was not there. She must have been waiting for me outside. I took three steps into the room before the King and stood waiting for him to look up.
“Grape?” It was the first thing King Dalior said to me. He held a rounded piece of fruit pinched between his forefinger and thumb towards me. “Try it.”
I hesitated, there was something different about him. Not wanting to offend him, I shuffled forward and plucked the fruit he called grape from his grasp.
“Thank you, King Dalior.” I bowed and took careful steps back.
He didn’t drop his gaze from me. I slipped the grape between my teeth, my mouth salivating. I bit down onto it and the grape popped in my mouth, its juices gracing my tongue and quenching my thirst.
“Beautiful, do you agree?” King Dalior said, his voice childlike. He swept a handful from the platter and dropped them one after the other into his mouth.
“I first tried it when a vine was sent as a gift from across the seas. For years we tried to grow them, but failed.” He rolled a grape in front of his face, staring longingly at it. “It was simple in the end, replicating an environment that obtained moisture from the ground, much like the temperature of Eldnol. Now I’m able to grow them in abundance. Fascinating, isn’t it?”
“Yes, my King.” I opted to keep my replies short, anything to get the meeting between us over with.
“Now…” He shifted in the seat. “When I heard of your heroics in Nasamel, I had to personally thank you myself. You saved my son from certain death, an act that will not be forgotten.”
Something passed behind his eyes when he spoke.
“I did what I could,” I reined in my voice, trying to still my nerves. I was a prisoner to his gaze.
He stood up and moved to his desk. I could smell the sweet fumes emanating from him as he walked past, his shoulder brushing against my own. It took a lot of effort not to shake.
“But, Hadrian did not tell me how you succeeded in saving him from the Morthi’s attack. Do you care to enlighten me?” His tone of voice had changed so fast that it caught me off guard. I could feel him standing behind me, but I didn’t dare turn around.
“I cannot remember, everything happened so quickly,” I said, pushing my hands into my pockets to stop them from shaking. My hand brushed against the clump of cloth and I pulled it from my pocket.
“King Dalior, I found something I need to show you.” I unwrapped the material and teased the part of the skin from it. Lifting it between my forefinger and thumb, I held it up for him to see. King Dalior walked slowly around to face me.
His face melted. He snatched the skin from my hand and turned away from me.
“What is this?” He examined the skin with intent, lifting it into a stream of light from the window. The skin had dried at the sides, but the blood was still there, still red.
“I… shot an arrow at whoever was in the woods. I thought I’d missed them, but I think I must have caught whoever it was because I found the skin on the arrow whilst I left the forest where it happened. I think that whoever tried to kill Hadrian was Niraen, not Morthi.”
King Dalior didn’t say anything for a moment. He stood, hunched over the skin and then fisted it. When he turned back to face me there was a wide smile on his face.
“Thank you for bringing this to me, I appreciate your honesty, but you must understand that if this information gets passed around it would send our people into a frenzy. I would appreciate if you kept this to yourself until I feel the time is right.”