“King Andur is here?” Drystan exclaimed, dropping the report in his hands. “When you say his progeny, do you mean…”
“Prince Ryolas and Princess Basilla,” the steward confirmed. “Prince Arolas is not with them.”
Drystan sighed in relief. “Very good. I will meet them in the privy council room.”
He went back to his suite to change into something more suitable and fetch Dareena.
“Basilla is here?” she asked. “Do you know if she looks well?”
“I haven’t seen her yet. You will have to judge that for yourself.”
They finished dressing and went down to meet the elves. An otherwise momentous occasion was spoiled when Dareena and Basilla squealed simultaneously, jumping into each other’s arms like two wriggling kittens rather than future queens. King Andur seemed a little surprised, while Ryolas merely looked amused.
“King Andur,” Drystan said when the noise had finally died down and they were seated. “I thank you for coming all this way to see me in person.”
The king inclined his head. “I have sat by and let others do my talking for far too long.” He held out a hand to a man sitting to his left, who placed a rolled parchment in it. “We have considered the treaty, and have written up a formal document. Let us review it now, and sign it if both parties are agreeable. Balar, my legal advisor, will assist.”
“Very good.” Drystan summoned his own legal advisor, and they all spent the next four hours negotiating the details of the agreement. There was some back and forth regarding the list of reparations, which was very long and quite detailed, but in the end, the sum was not outrageous.
In the end, the two legal advisors managed to draw up a document they were all happy with. A few extra signature lines were added—the initial document only had one for Dragonfell’s side, but Drystan insisted that Dareena and his brothers must sign as well.
“There,” Dareena said, signing her name with a flourish. She beamed, and Drystan knew she was pleased to have been included in the decision. “We will have to wait for Lucyan and Alistair to return so they can sign, but as far as I am concerned, this is official.”
“Excellent,” King Andur said. He reached across the table, and Drystan and Dareena both shook hands with him. “I am very pleased that we have come to an agreement, and look forward to the upcoming wedding and alliance between our two kingdoms.”
The door burst open, and Shadley came running in. “Apologies for interrupting,” he said, his eyes bright with excitement, “but there are four dragons headed our way.”
Drystan and Dareena jumped to their feet. “Do you know if they have the warlock king with them?” Dareena demanded as they hurried out of the room.
“They are too far away to tell,” Shadley said, “but General Tariana was spotted carrying a prisoner. It could very well be him.”
“The warlock king?” King Andur asked as he and the other elves followed after them. “Do you mean to tell me you went after him?”
“We organized a raid on his country estate,” Drystan explained as they hurried down the hall, following after Shadley. They made it outside just as the dragons landed outside the Keep’s entrance. A huge crowd had gathered to watch them come in, and the sound of their cheers filled Drystan with pride. It felt wonderful to receive praise from their people for once, rather than the scorn they had been dealing with ever since their father had abandoned his throne.
Tariana tossed the bundle in her hand on the ground—the warlock king, all trussed up and gagged. Whoever had bound him had even tied the twine into a bow, as if he were a present. The strike force soldiers hopped to the ground while the dragons shifted back to human form, then lined up and saluted Drystan and Dareena.
“Presenting King Wulorian,” Tariana said, wrapping a cloak around her body. She used her bare foot to toe at the king, who was unconscious. “We ought to get him in chains before he wakes up again. He is quite powerful, and it will be a challenge to keep him locked up.”
“We’ve already taken precautions,” Shadley assured her. He motioned for the guards to approach, and they did so, carrying heavy manacles with runes etched into them. Shadley untied Wulorian and did a thorough search for hidden amulets or charms before allowing him to be shackled. He accompanied the guards as they took the king to the cell that Lucyan and Shadley had already prepared well ahead of time.
Drystan sent up a silent prayer to the gods that the magical devices they had planted would be enough to hold the king.
With the king out of the way, Drystan finally embraced his siblings. “Did you run into any trouble during the raid?”
“Just a certain warlock prince,” Lucyan said airily. “He decided to pay his father a visit, and almost killed Sorana. Luckily, Alistair is quite handy with a dagger.”
Alistair gave Drystan an apologetic smile. “I would have preferred to bring him in alive, at least to make him answer for his crimes. But I think trying to subdue two warlock royals would have been beyond our capabilities.”
“I’m glad you killed him,” Basilla declared. “He was a horrible man. The gods only know how many women he’s tortured and raped.”
“Quite a few,” Ryolas said. “I learned quite a bit about the man when I was in Inkwall, searching for you.”
The two royal families returned indoors to discuss what should be done with the king. Drystan had initially intended to merely use him as a hostage, but King Andur pointed out that returning Wulorian to his people would only bring them more trouble.
“I think that we ought to consult the gods on this matter,” Basilla said. “If King Wulorian has truly fallen out of favor with Rumas, perhaps he does not deserve to be returned to his people. Does Shadowhaven have a high priest?”
“They do,” Lucyan confirmed, “but it seems the priest and the king have not spoken for some time. After he protested the use of temples for military purposes, the king cut off his funding and threatened him and his staff with torture. He still has some power in Shadowhaven, but without the financial backing of the royal family, it has been greatly diminished. Many temples across the country were forced to give in to the king’s demands to remain operational.”
Basilla shook her head. “That will not do at all. I suggest inviting him to come to Dragonfell and meet with me and your oracle. Between the three of us, we should be able to divine the gods’ wishes in this matter.”