DREAMWIELDER Book 1 of The Dreamwielder Chronicles

Chapter 3: THE SHADOW GROWS

Caile let out a weary sigh as he plopped down into a chair in his father's study, high in the upper reaches of Castle Pyrthin. King Casstian Delios, too, breathed heavily as he sat and stared into the flames of the fireplace before them. It had already been late by the time Caile, Taera, and their procession reached Kal Pyrthin, and then there was the formal reception with the well-rehearsed greetings and the state dinner in the dining hall where nothing but pleasantries could be uttered for fear of being overheard. That was all thankfully over now, and it was well past midnight. The two of them—king and son—sat silently for a long time, staring into the fire.

"Taera told me of Cargan," Caile said eventually. "I'm sorry."

"As are we all," his father replied, not looking up from the fire. "He was a fine man. He would have made a fine king."

"Have you learned any more of what happened? You can't believe this nonsense about him dying in a drunken brawl?"

"So was the word from Col Sargoth, so it was."

"Father," Caile said, leaning forward in his chair, "you know as well as I do that Cargan was a better man than that."

"A better man than you, for sure, but what can I do? Shall I call the Emperor a liar and bring his wrath down upon Pyrthinia? Is that what you want?"

"Or course not," Caile snapped, immediately regretting losing his temper and reminding himself to stay calm. "I'm not the foolish boy I was when I left, Father."

"Then what of this business on the road with the firewielder? Are you mad? Trying to speak reason to such a person. You would have been killed if it weren't for Lorentz."

"She was a girl, no older than me, not some vile creature. When I left, you had an arrangement, offering amnesty for any sorcerers who turned themselves in and agreed to live here under your watch."

"That was five years ago. Times have changed. Emperor Guderian..."

"Emperor!" Caile spat. "This is no empire. This is the Five Kingdoms, and you are the King of Pyrthinia. Guderian is the King of Sargoth, nothing more."

"I'm afraid the Five Kingdoms are no more, son. With each passing day he wrests more power away from us. Nothing can be done."

Caile thrust himself back into the cushions of his chair, and neither of them said anything for a long while. Caile stared with a mixture of sadness and disgust at his father, a man who had seemingly shrunk since he'd last seen him. Five years before, the King of Pyrthinia had been a robust man, exuding energy and confidence. Now, Casstian Delios was old beyond his years. His arms and chest were still thick but lacked the hardened, muscular definition he was once known for. His face, too, was thin and ashen, and his once glorious mane of golden hair now hung limply above his shoulders, thin and mottled with gray.

"Do you mean to send Taera to Col Sargoth?" Caile finally asked.

"What choice do I have?"

"Send me. That's why you had me return from Valaróz, isn't it?"

King Casstian snorted. "The imperial mandate states I must send my eldest child as a ward to Col Sargoth."

"There are exceptions. Tell Guderian that Taera is too ill to travel, that I'm coming to Col Sargoth in her stead. All he cares is that he has his hostage."

"But she's not ill. Would you have me forge false documents? I don't take lying as lightly as you, especially when it means treason."

Caile could feel his face flush with anger. His father clearly was not one to let the past go. "If you ask me, it's better to lie to an evil man than to sign your daughter's death sentence."