To be honest, I didn't consider the risks when I took the job. I mean I had no other choice, but I was blinded to the ridiculously large chance of me dying while on the job. That goes for me and everyone else who worked around the king.
A castle guard was currently holding Adamaris by the neck, a dagger to her throat. I had just spoken to her only moments ago. We talked about how she'd be leaving the next day and now here she was being held hostage by a lunatic at the Prince's ball. Prince James had just returned from a victory against a province in Ogalsia and the King prepared this ball to celebrate his conquest.
No guard made an attempt to move, because we knew that if we made the wrong move he'd slit open an innocent woman's throat. I stood against the wall and watched it play out.
Another castle guard carefully stepped towards Adamaris and her captor. "Aldred," he cautioned. "you know you don't want to do this."
Aldred cackled. "I know what I want Ulric. I want the king to apologize!"
Adamaris spoke, though I couldn't hear what she said, I saw her effect on her captor. His hands loosened.
But then Ulric spoke and the grit returned to Aldred's face. "What are you saying?! Just let the maid go!"
In the midst of the turmoil, the king spoke. "Guard!" he boomed. "Why should I, the great king of Kreatier, lower myself for the likes of a man who would use the life of an innocent woman to acquire an apology?"
"You burnt my village," Aldred shouted. "you sent troops to eradicate my entire village—I deserve more than an apology! You deserve to die as well."
That was a direct threat. My eyes contacted with Eve from across the room. She strung a transparent arrow to her transparent bow, which was as good as invisible, but only partially visible from where I stood. But then I saw Prince James approach Aldred from the back and Eve lowered her bow. With no hesitation, Prince James hit Aldred across the head with a golden goblet. Aldred dropped and James seated himself at his table and indulged himself in his dinner, oblivious to his maid's ordeal.
Aldred was dragged away and thrown in the dungeon last I heard. The ball resumed, though we were on high alert after that incident. The ball went on long into the night and finally ended a little past midnight. My feet ached and I longed for my bed. But on my journey to my room, KB intercepted and practically dragged me back into the castle.
"What's going on? What's wrong?" I asked as we sped down the halls.
"The council, they've reached a decision," she replied.
We halted before a specific pair of large wooden doors that I knew to steer clear from the first time KB told me about them. The planning room. Where the king held meetings and discussions regarding the war and anything significant to the security of his kingdom. The others arrived one after the other, till we were all present. The doors creaked open and we entered.
A dozen men and women sat round an elongated table, on which was a map of Kreatier. All new faces except for Lance and the king who sat at the head of the table. We came to stand before them. Shoulder to shoulder we stood and waited for their announcement.
"Itt has come to our attention that we may have a rebellion at foot," said a slender middle-aged man whose voice sounded strangely familiar. His dark hair had streaks of blue, and he had odd violet eyes. And sitting just opposite of him was a man who looked exactly like him, except he had violet streaks in his hair and blue eyes instead. "And as do all rebellions, the process takes more lives than they help. But rebellions in Kreatier are nothing new, there have and will always be people who disagree with the way our kingdom is run. Over the years we have carefully handled the people's demands. When famines ran rampant, our king took heed to the people's sufferings, to our suffering. He assembled the finest mages of Kreatier to sustain our land. But, we didn't call you hear to boast achievements, you knight of all people know better. Kreatier is a prosperous kingdom, constituted by diverse and great people. I believe we can and will get through these times. But Cyr, is an opponent we cannot underestimate. As shameful and heinous as his actions were, he was an excellent knight, a great leader who led many victorious battles. And once a trusted a guard. Therefore, we have reached the decision that an infiltration of Cyr's League of Renegades would be necessary for gaining inside information of his course of actions."
A florial woman whose vine hair was intricately tied atop her hair almost like a crown of flowers, rose with a piece of paper in her hand. In a silvery voice she said, "after careful deliberation we have deemed the following most appropriate for the task, Philip Nole, Lucius Dean, Mo Dalk and Rowan Astor guard of Lord Aglovale and Brise Daniels guard of Lady Adela."
~~~
The next morning when I woke, I hoped what happened the night before was a dream. But as always Philip crushed my hope when he knocked on my door at 6 in the morning with a cheery smile.
"Get ready Dalk, you have a long day ahead of you," he sang.
After breakfast and a shower, Philip, Lucius and I met the blacksmith, Osric, an orc-mage vuruk at his smithy.
"Alright Osric, my man, what do you have for us?" Philip called when we entered to find Osric hunched over beating a glowing piece of metal.
Osric didn't look up not until he was done. He placed the glowing metal into a pale of water and stood. Our eyes contacted and neither of us said anything for a moment. Then he came forward, slipping off his gloves and lowering the scarf that covered his nose and below. Beneath he wasn't as old as the work of a blacksmith made him look. We could have even been the same age.
He halted before me and gave me his hand. His handshake was firm and brief. "Osric," he said, his voice gravelly. His expression, stern.
"Mo," I replied.
He turned his gaze to Philip. "What will I be making for you today?"
We sketched our weapons and Osric adjusted them. The weapons would be made in a way that they were hidden and would materialize at our will, and used only in case of emergencies.
Philip's was a double-edged sword that would be transported via plants. Basically he could draw his sword from any plant. And if there were no plants, he could just grow it. Lucius, a buzuki disguised as a scythe which he would carry on his back. And my sword, which would be crafted around the gem. I was reluctant, but Philip insisted it would offer protection to both the gem and I. My sword would be disguised as the band of rope round the gem, when taken off it would transform into a sword whose hilt would carry the gem. If I was done, I'd simply stab myself in the throat and it would return to a necklace. Osric reassured me the sword would not hurt me.
KB found us around lunch. She knocked at the door and waved. When Osric turned, her face flushed red and her snakes flared. Philip nudged me, his gaze travelling from KB to Osric and back to KB. My mouth formed an O as I nodded.
"Osric, wha—funny bumping into you here," KB beamed.
"I work here," Osric stated.
KB tittered. "I know, I know. Well, I'm not here to see you, obviously. I have to discuss something of upmost importance with these three. So, if you'll excuse us."
Osric nodded. "I will finish your weapons by tomorrow."
"What do you want Kombai?" Philip whined as we followed her out.
"Nothing really," she muttered. Almost pouting, she whispered, "you should've said you weren't finished."
"What was that?!" Philip exclaimed.
She punched him in the arm and he winced and grinded his teeth at her. "I remember now, I wanted to help you guys create new names and backstories."
YOU ARE READING
Scales and Swords ✓
Fantasy*completed* Born with scales and the ability to breathe fire, Mo spent all her life being bullied and ridiculed. For in the Kingdom of Kreatier her kind are not welcome: Half-breeds or as they are better known, Vuruks. But when she loses her family...
