Page 312 of Of Empires and Dust
Calen gestured towards the copse of trees that stood tall on the right of the cliff.
“You knew my father,” Calen said, as the High Lord looked towards the copse, his gaze narrowing at the sound of shifting feet and murmurs coming from within.
“I did not know your father,” the man reiterated. “I have had enough of these games. Whatever this is,” he said, gesturing towards the trees, “be done with it. Pledge yourself to me, support my claim. We will make Illyanara whole.”
“He slew Durin Longfang with this blade,” Calen held his father’s sword a little higher, savouring the look of shock on Castor Kai’s face. “And Taran Shadesmire, and Rayce Garrin. He ended the Varsund War with this blade. My father’s name, High Lord Kai, was Cassian Tal. He was the greatest swordsman Illyanara has ever seen. You knew him well. You betrayed him.”
“I… That’s not possible. How could you…”
Fenryr and a score of his Angan emerged from the trees, alongside Aryana Torval, Tukul Unger, and the other leaders of the Illyanaran factions. A clutch of Dracurïn walked among them.
“Your father murdered my son.” Castor reached for his blade, fingers wrapping around the pommel.
“Please, do me the favour of drawing that sword.” Calen’s stare didn’t falter as he looked into Castor’s eyes. “I beg you.”
Castor hesitated, his stare fixing on the sword in Calen’s hand before shifting to Valerys, whose head now hovered just over Calen’s.
“Let me introduce you to another name you know, High Lord Kai.” Calen gestured towards Fenryr, who had stopped a few feet from the High Lord’s retinue on the right. “This is Fenryr, Wolf God, blood of my blood, and the one you were willing to kill my father to chain.”
Fenryr stepped forwards, armoured in that same black steel he had worn the other night, roaring wolf-head pauldrons adorning his shoulders. Castor Kai’s retinue parted before the wolf god, shrinking at the sight of him.
A moment passed in which Fenryr stood over Castor Kai, seeming to grow before Calen’s eyes. “You wanted to place a collar around my neck,” the god said. “I can smell the fear in you, the greed. Such a small man.”
Aryana Torval and the others approached Calen, each staring at the High Lord and his retinue.
“You heard his words?” Calen asked. “Heard the cost of his allegiance?”
“We are the traitors,” Aryana said. “Our heads are to be taken from our shoulders, while a crown is to be placed upon his.”
“That is not?—”
“Speak when spoken to,” Fenryr snapped, a dark claw pressing into Castor’s neck, blood trickling.
“You have received my messages then?” Calen asked.
“We have,” Tukul Unger responded.
“And what is your answer?”
One by one, in a semi-circle facing Calen, each of the leaders dropped to a knee and placed a closed fist across their chest. Aryana Torval was the last standing. She drew her sword slowly, then knelt, driving the blade into the ground as she did.
Calen gave a soft nod, then mimicked the gesture, his armour clinking against the hard earth. Behind him, Valerys dipped his head in a bow and extended his right forelimb. Calen looked to Gaeleron, who nodded.
“I hereby swear oath,” Calen said, his voice loud and clear, “by witness of those here and the six who watch over us, to protect those before me with all my strength. To bleed for them, to fight by their side, and, if needs be, to die by it.”
Aryana and the others repeated the words.
“It is with honour that your oath has been witnessed by those here and by the six who watch over us,” Gaeleron said, pressing his fist to his chest and giving a slight bow.
Calen rose, leveraging his sword before pulling it from the earth and wiping it clean with his cloak. “I will lead you into the fires of war,” he said, looking out at the leaders. “But I swear to always lead from the front and to never ask you to lay your life where I would not lay mine. This war encompasses more than just Illyanara, and so we must stray further from home to ensure that home is safe. And we will do so together.”
Calen sheathed his sword but kept his left hand resting on the pommel. He turned his attention back to Castor Kai. The men and women in the High Lord’s retinue shifted uneasily, watching as the other leaders stood.
“It appears, High Lord Kai, that we are at an impasse.”
The man flicked his gaze to Calen, Fenryr’s claw still pressed to his throat. “This was all some ploy.”
Calen shook his head. “You give me too much credit. But you see, you yourself declared that the cost of treachery is death. Yousaid you wanted their heads.” Calen pointed at the other leaders. “What say you all?”
