Betrayal - A BrightStone Saga Novella

-Norridan-

With a boom, the doors to the throne room crash against the waiting guards inside, sprawling them across the polished marble floor. King Manu rushes in with his sword held aloft, waiting to strike the nearest living thing. His ruby eyes ablaze with every turn of his head, searching for something to kill.

"Where is she?" he booms, the sound reverberating through the elongated throne room. His voice carries along in an echo, bouncing off the smooth, marble walls.

The rumble of boots from behind makes him turn. His eyes meet Oaklen, the captain of his personal guard. The fire in his eyes abates slightly as he nods, taking in the other men pouring in behind him. "Sire, we have searched the entire citadel. There is no sign of the Quee—"

"No," Manu whispers, cutting his captain off. "She is no longer queen here."

"Apologies, my Lord. The Lady Freya is not in the citadel, I am sure of it. We have searched every corridor, up and down. The kitchens, the battlements, even the dungeons below. Unless there are hidden passages, she has fled the citadel, even Norridan itself, if she came back here."

"She must be found. She has the last brightstone, and it will be mine." Manu looks away, his senses tingling, creeping down his spine as he watches the two guards attempting to get back to their feet. He points his sword at the closest; his scrambling body struggling in full plate. "Stay there," he smirks. "Look again, Oaklen. I have utter faith that you will locate her." He turns back to his captain, his eyes sparkling, reflecting the light globes that illuminate the throne room all around. "My utter faith, Oaklen." He smirks, lighting up his face but his eyes threaten something else.

Oaklen shuffles on the spot and swallows before finding his voice. "Of course, Sire," he says with a bow. He stands to attention and slams a fist against his chest plate. "Baal!"

"Yes, yes. Before you go, send for Bragar, will you? I need to speak with him."

"I will send for the lieutenant, my Lord," Oaklen scowls.

Manu twitches at his reaction. I will remember that. "Yes, now go. I have guards to deal with." He turns from his men, his eyes ablaze once more as he takes in the guards still frozen, awaiting his judgment. "Now, what do we do with the two of you?"

"S-S-S Sire, please?" one stutters.

"Enough," Manu whispers, his voice carrying across the throne room silencing the guard. Manu stares at them both, his gaze unwavering. "Stand."

"Yes, my L—"

"Do not speak," he says softly. "Obviously you know who I am? So I will not patronise you, only know, that what is about to happen, I will enjoy it immensely." His lip curls cruelly as the last word leaves his mouth.

"But, Sire. Please, we are humble guards. We will serve you loyally."

His eyes flick up, holding the man's gaze. Unblinking, the guard squirms under his ruby eyes and looks away, knowing his fate. "You think you will serve me loyally?" he mocks. "You think, I, King Manu, have need of two pathetic, snivelling, worms like you?" He pauses, his tone changing, becoming kinder. "I think not, I'm afraid. No, I have no need of any more guards, especially ones who would so quickly betray the ones whom they have sworn to protect and serve, eh?"

"Sire," the other guard speaks now. "I am Theetis, Holland guard to House Saur." The sound of clinking plate echoes through the throne room as he makes his way to his feet. "You are in the throne room of King Folknor and Queen Freya of House Saur. You, Lord, are not welcome here, so I implore you to leave the way you came."

Theetis finishes pulling himself to his full height. His glistening plate shines out, reflecting the light from the orbs around them. His hand sits on the pommel of his sword with his jaw set in a grimace.