Realm Of Blood And Fire (Book 3) (19 page)

Leon growled, not convinced.
Take me back to Bayerlon. Tonight we shall feast.

CHAPTER 17

High Chancellor
Calinsar stepped out from behind the gormon, his five-pointed-star belt buckle of office reflecting the candlelight. “I suggest you rethink attacking us.” He nodded for them to turn around. Two more gormons stood in the hallway behind them.

“How could we be so stupid?” Agmunsten looked at his companions, wanting to blame them but knowing he was just as much at fault. “Oh, he speaks Veresian.”

“Of course I speak Veresian. All the high chancellors must learn the language of those who seek to oppress us and steal our fertile lands.” Elbows tucked into his sides, arms bent, he gripped the lapels of his midnight-blue jacket. “It was lucky my friends, here, warned me.” He smiled at the gormons.

“How can you call them friends? They’re here to destroy Talia.” Astra pushed in front of Agmunsten and placed her hands on her hips.

“Ah. And would you be that lass who went missing all those years ago? You must be Astra. You know leaving Zamahl is punishable by death.”

“And what makes you think the gormons have your best interests at heart? Do they even have hearts?” Astra turned to Zim.

“I think so, but they don’t get used much.” The dragon laughed.

“Enough!” The gormon
who was next to the high chancellor approached Astra. He spoke to the high chancellor’s guards. “Take her to the holding cell. She’ll be executed within a week. That gives us time to alert surrounding settlements, so they can come and watch—see the example she sets.”

The guards stepped forward.

“Don’t you dare touch her.” Agmunsten pushed Astra behind him and narrowed his eyes at the guards, daring them to come closer.

The gormon hissed at the guards and showed them his claws. “If I have to do this myself, you’ll be joining her.”

The taller guard, whose broad shoulders and paunch stretched the fabric of his black shirt with silver detailing on the breast—which read HC—took a tentative step and poked Agmunsten lightly with his spear.

Agmunsten touched the tip of the spear with his index finger. Letting some of the power trickle through his finger, it ran along the spear. The timber shaft turned to sawdust that showered the
polished-timber floors, the spearhead clattering when it landed. The guard’s mouth dropped open.

The
head realmist couldn’t feel the telltale tingle of anyone else working with the power. He looked at the gormon to see his reaction. The beast twisted its mouth then bared its teeth but didn’t move closer. “It seems we have the advantage. We need to talk, High Chancellor, but we can’t do it with the enemy here.”

“The enemy?” The gormon snarled. “This is our world, our lands
, that
your kind
stole, and you dare call us the enemy?”

Zim, who had been watching the gormons at their back, spoke without turning around. “Maybe you were once wronged by your god, but you have become evil, twisted creatures. You enslaved my people. Did we deserve to pay for your god’s mistakes?”

“You are the reason for our banishment to the Third Realm. We will never forget that. The gormons won’t rest until every last dragon is dead or enslaved again.”

Agmunsten, frustrated at the turn the conversation took
, put his hands up. “We’re not here to discuss the past. We’re here to discuss the future. Talia needs Zamahl’s help, High Chancellor. If the gormons take Vellonia, they will systematically enslave all the peoples of Talia, breeding them for food. Is that what you want for your people?”

The
high chancellor stepped closer, but was careful to leave the gormon in between himself and the realmists.  “Churex has promised me they will leave Zamahl alone. He has the full authority of Kwaad, their leader.”

“You would take the word of this
. . .
thing
? Not to mention you’d send millions of people to a horrific death. The Zamahl I left wouldn’t have done that.” Astra scowled.

“You were young when you left, my dear. You don’t know what the leaders of that time would have done. Did you know that there is a whirlpool just off the coast? It has already swallowed an island and is growing larger every day. Zamahl is next. The only way to stop it is to help the rightful, original owners of this world. The gormons have our full support, and killing me, or Churex and his friends, will make no difference. The
assembly is in full agreement.

“No more discussion. You may have knowledge of
Second-Realm power, but many of our people are versed in energizing. I also have soldiers downstairs, waiting to escort you to the cells. Churex, do you mind helping my guards?”

“Certainly, High Chancellor.” The gormon’s jerky bow looked forced, and Agmunsten wondered how long it would be before the
high chancellor found his way inside Churex’s belly—probably a few minutes after they were in the cells. Then it would be too late for the Zamahlans to change their minds about helping. The head realmist could see mayhem following soon after all the Zamahlan leaders had been ingested.

Zim, can you take out the gormons at the rear
? I’m going to restrain the monstrosity at the front. We can’t kill him if we want to convince the stupid high chancellor. Astra, I’d like you to make sure the chancellor doesn’t get in the way. You want your countrymen alive; you can protect them.

The gormon grabbed Astra around the waist and picked her up. His rotten-egg stench made her cough.

“High Chancellor, are you sure you won’t reconsider?” Agmunsten drew power.

The gray-haired chancellor, his hair cut close to the scalp, giving his large hooked nose more prominence, folded his arms in front of his chest, which also advertised his initials in gold, and shook his head.

The head realmist wrapped layers of power around the chancellor, rendering him immobile. For the gormon, he wove a scarf of power. Looping it around his neck, he pulled tight. The gormon dropped Astra, his sinewy hands going to his neck. He tried to get his fingers under the invisible noose, but it was too tight.

Zim, meantime, breathed fire on the remaining gormons. His aim was good, the only other casualty a potted plant on a pedestal. Observing the two burning forms on the ground
, he nodded and turned to check on Agmunsten’s progress.

The gormon was on his knees. His hands, still
grabbing for purchase on the invisible force, were clumsy from lack of air. Agmunsten let the gormon’s arms flop to its sides before he loosened his hold. Through all this, the two soldiers watched wide-eyed—the one who still had the spear half-heartedly pointed it at Agmunsten every now and then.
Great guards,
thought Astra.
How embarrassing. I suppose that’s what happens when enemies haven’t visited for a long time—they get slack.

“Ready to listen?” Agmunsten used the voice he employed when the younger children in the
academy were being chastised.

The chancellor nodded, but his mouth was set in a thin line.

“I’m going to release both of you, and I want you to go and sit over there, on those comfy-looking sofas. And Churex, don’t bother breathing fire on any of us—we have employed our Second-Realm armor, and there’s nothing you can do to penetrate it.”

Churex stood, his tail swishing from side to side across the rug as he made his way to a chair and the waiting chancellor.

Zim stood guard at the door. Astra and Agmunsten chose to stand—it was a small intimidation tactic, but they wanted any advantage they could get. “High Chancellor Calinsar, I’m really very sorry it’s come to this, but Talia needs your help . . . and Zamahl’s. I left all those years ago because I had a true-dream, and I knew my fate lay hundreds of miles away. What else has the gormon offered you, other than saving Zamahl from a mysterious whirlpool?”

The man looked at Astra, indecision flickering across his face. “If you won’t tell me the truth, I’ll force it out of you.” He paled. Astra bit her tongue to keep from smiling. She knew he’d assume torture, but she was thinking of delving into his mind—painless, although it wasn’t polite.

The chancellor’s gray eyes glanced from the gormon to Astra.

Agmunsten folded his arms in front of his chest and rocked back and forth, from heels to toes to heels again. “You’d better pick the right side now, Chancellor, because it’ll be too late to come crying to me later. And I’ll give you a hint—it’s not black and green and slimy.”

“Who gave you the power to force me to choose? You want me to condemn my people to losing their lands, their homes, even their lives. That whirlpool has been growing every day.”

Astra sat in the seat opposite the chancellor and looked into his eyes. She almost placed her hand on his knee, but thought better of it. “Did the gormon give you proof that siding with them will stop any catastrophe?”

He thought for a moment. “Well . . . no. But that doesn’t m—”

“Oh for the gods’ sakes. You’re going to gamble millions of lives on something with no proof?” Agmunsten rolled his eyes.

“Don’t listen to them.” The gormon made a noise in his throat, like the hiss of steam. “Kwaad doesn’t lie. He is our almighty ruler, and he will defeat the dragons and the people across the sea. We will reclaim our rightful place in this world, and you and the dragons will serve us.”

“You didn’t answer my other question.” Astra leaned forward. “What else did he promise you?”

The chancellor looked to the ground. “My position here is guaranteed, and my people will be spared. There may have been some gold promised as well.” He fidgeted with his lapel.

“What else?” Astra’s gaze bored into the top of his head.

He sighed. “Dragon workers. He promised to send collared dragons to help work our fields and harvest the minerals from the northern mountains.”

Astra gasped, her head snapping around to look at Zim. The black dragon had turned from the corridor to stare at the seated pair. Zim stalked into the room, smoke drifting from his nostrils, anger flaring in his eyes. “That’s what got you banished in the first place, gormon. Do you think Drakon will just watch and let it all happen again? And you,
High Chancellor
—you would enslave the dragons? We have the power to come here and do the same to you, but have we ever? We have no wish to force anyone to bow down to us, yet we could—it would be so easy.” Zim reached down and picked up the high chancellor, as if he were a child picking up a doll. He opened his mouth wide and stuck the man’s head inside.

The chancellor screamed and kicked his legs. Zim closed his mouth just enough that the tip of his teeth pressed gently into the nape of his victim’s neck, the roof of his mouth cradling the top of the man’s head.

A dark patch spread across the chancellor’s crotch, urine dripping onto the scarlet rug. Agmunsten smirked. “Hungry, Zim?”

The dragon nodded, his teeth clamping down more firmly.

“What did I say about killing my countrymen? Can you please let him go?” Astra winked at Zim.

A growl vibrated up Zim’s throat and rumbled past the body in his mouth before he released the man and set him on the floor.

The chancellor’s knees gave way, and he fell in the dampness he created earlier. “Someone get me a towel, please?” He wiped his face with his sleeves, trying to remove the dragon’s saliva.

Agmunsten turned to the broad-shouldered guard. “Please fetch your master a towel and ask someone to run a bath. And I’m quite peckish. Send up some dinner, too, if you don’t mind.” The realmist turned to the chancellor, who had managed to get back to his feet. “Are you ready to be reasonable?”

He nodded.

“Good. Now
—” He put a hand gently on the man’s upper back. “This is what Talia needs from you.”

The gormon, knowing
that his opportunity at thwarting the realmists’ chance at uniting Talia had almost disappeared, spoke in his mind and reported back to Kwaad.
Master, we have had a hiccup. The realmists have intervened but I have a plan. In case I . . . fail, I wanted you to know that they will be crossing the ocean soon.

Thank you, brother,
Kwaad replied.
Make good on your failure, or you will be punished on your return. We will ready the horde at Carpus.

Yes, Master.

Churex had nothing to lose, now. He would easily escape the High Chancellor’s prison, and then he would follow the realmists. They would drop their guard eventually, and when they did, Churex would be waiting.

Chapter 18

Leon stalked around his new bedchamber, having amused himself by reducing his brother’s clothes to scraps of rags with his dagger. He kicked a piece of blue fabric out of his way as he reached the window. His hands rested on his hips as he gazed over part of the city and the surrounding countryside—now his. “You know why I’m not smiling?”

Tusklar arranged the crystal crowns on their special stand on the mantle and watched his rage with a small smile. A rich-burgundy gown with a low-cut neckline skimmed her figure all the way to the floor. “Tell me, husband.”

“My brother is still alive.” He dug his fingertips into his hips, relishing the pain.

Tusklar went to him, circled her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his back. “But you have your castle now, and you killed one of their Circle. This is just the beginning—remember that. There’s more than one way to skin a
yamuk.”

“Indeed there is.” He remembered the day he had left
for Inkra—it seemed a lifetime ago. And what had his goal been? To demoralize his brother and take his city for his own. And hadn’t he done that? Yes, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted his brother’s head on a platter—literally. He would enjoy the spoils as Kwaad. The one consolation was seeing the gormons eating his brother’s people—yes, that had made him smile. He had enjoyed a few himself. “What do you think of your new kingdom, my darling?”

“It is so much sunnier than Inkra. I think I will enjoy it here, but I can’t wait to see Vellonia.”

Leon’s scowl returned. “It won’t be for at least three weeks. The gormons must mature, and your army is on foot.” He snorted disgust and pounded the stone sill with his fist.

She rubbed his back. “I know a good way to spend the time.”

He turned and embraced her, putting his mouth to her ear and kissing her lobe.

Pounding on the door interrupted them. Leon rolled his eyes. “Will we ever get a moment alone? Come in!”

A gormon ducked to walk under the doorframe. He bowed. “We have the final numbers: fifty-two gormons killed, plus your inside man Perculus. We’ve killed or eaten one-thousand-two-hundred-and-fourteen primitives. We have collared the rest and they are chained in the city’s warehouses and in our dungeons. The city gates are secured, and we’re tallying the number of inhabitants so we can plan for the future. There is also an excellent spot to house future eggs and larvae. The juveniles on the coast are maturing nicely and will start moving in two weeks. We’ve identified some caverns near Vellonia that would suit them perfectly.”

Leon thought he would feel a touch mournful, learning about
Perculus’s demise, but he was only angry that he had not captured Edmund.
Stupid, repulsive man. Wish I’d watched him die.
Why did everyone disappoint him so? First, his brother, then Boy, and now Perculus. Was everyone incapable?

“Tell
Kerchex he’s doing a good job. I want another update in forty-eight hours. Until then, my meals are to be sent up and left outside. My wife and I are not to be disturbed.”

The gormon performed an awkward bow and backed out of the room, bumping his head on the doorframe. When the door closed, Leon turned to Tusklar. “Now, my love, where were we?”