The Four Swords - Chapter 93: Nightmares

Chapter 93: Nightmares

“I have given my terms. What is your King’s reply?” The fearsome woman raised her voice and the hall trembled.

Pillars shook and I felt unsteady. The ground beneath me felt as though it might crumble and give way. I was on top of an icy pond and felt as though I could fall through at any point. I wanted to run, but could not do that to leave my friends to a hideous fate.

I turned to Cali and Carrion, expecting looks of horror. Instead I saw Cali’s firm set expression of determination. She was always stubborn. She was not going to leave her father, the only parent she ever really knew, in the hands of these women. She would fight for what she thought was right no matter what it cost her.

Carrion’s face was a blank slate awaiting a reaction. It seemed as though he was trying to reason out if this all was really happening. I could only hope this was a nightmare and that dawn might soon wake us all.

“Still this place, Autarch! If you want discussions to continue,” King Caderyn demanded with a fully royal tone in a forceful yell above the noise of stone trying not to give way.

The room settled momentarily, although the ice and chill remained. A twinkle in the Autarch’s eye betrayed the expressionless stare she coldly gave King Caderyn. She was enjoying playing her twisted game.

“Should discussions continue? Are you ready to hand over Ensis to the Norads? I am sure your people will grow to respect their magical superiors,” The Autarch beamed with her own victory.

“I will not allow my people to be enslaved. We already won the war against such ideals. Be gone with your antiquated ideologies. I will not entertain such ridiculousness,” King Caderyn’s speech reeked of hubris. This type of shortsighted pride seemed to be one of King Caderyn’s biggest flaws.

My father looked my way. He momentarily bit his lip, thinking of something beyond my scope of understanding. Then he seemed to come to a realization of some kind. His face fell into an apologetic pout.

What scheme did my father just decide on that would cause such instantaneous remorse? He had tried to temper the King’s overzealous responses to situations for years. This time should not be any different.

Knowing he had my gaze, my father mouthed a phrase. I was expecting instructions on attack or retreat. I would faithfully follow any command. Alas, none came. It took a moment for my head to unravel the words, but they finally pieced together.

‘Proud of you,’ was the message that my father deemed important enough for this moment. I do not understand. Why was that his message?

The Autarch did not take the words of the King lightly. Her nostrils flared with a deep rooted anger. She threw up her hands toward the ceiling with open palms, before balling her fists and jerking her hands to beside her hips.

The whole room shook and creaked its own protest. Every visible hallway entrance, every exit the Autarch knew about from this room, suddenly had a thick block of ice fall from each door frame. The sheets of ice were thick, making any light from outside sources struggle to illuminate the space.

Each icy barrier locked into place, making the floor tremble. I lost my footing on the icy floor and took an awkward step toward the enraged woman. Trying to not catch her complete attention, I quickly straightened.

“I will not be spoken to in such a manner! Your people already question your ability to keep them safe. I mean if an arrow can so easily strike your guard, what about your people?

I had hoped that such a display of power would make such a man quake. No matter. I tried to reason with you, but it seems you prefer death. Don’t worry. Your wife and daughter will have a chance to grovel for their own lives or they can make a wiser choice than yours,” the Autarch gloated.

As she raised her arms again, the room began to rumble. Surely she would not bring the entire castle to the ground just to prove a point, right? At least not with her sister and herself inside to be targets for the rubble and destruction.

The Autarch seemed calculating and cruel. Why was she toying with one of our monarchs? She threatened, but so far had not outright killed Casimir or Lord Bleddyn. It did not make sense for her to continually display her power and not take some sort of strategic advance in diminishing our numbers forever.

What was I missing that made her desperately need King Caderyn’s transfer of power? Also was she so removed from our society that she did not know that Queen Valerie really held the power?

Part of the puzzle clicked into place for me, but created more questions than answers. Was the Autarch the most powerful person in the room? Or was it Nyx? A woman who lived among our people would know that the Queen was the link to the royal bloodline. She also might take pity on the man that raised her children. Why was Nyx holding back?

My thoughts scattered as I saw my father move in front of our King. “Autarch, please consider giving us more time to discuss relations among our nations,” my father remained the diplomat, screaming above the chaos.

“Lord Jacob, it is no use reasoning with a viper!” King Caderyn reprimanded.

“A viper? I guess it’s time to strike!” The Autarch formed a scepter from thin air. It must have been made from ice or glass, but slowly illuminated an array of colors, blinding and beautiful.

The Autarch shortened the distance between herself and King Caderyn, sweeping her newfound scepter through the air towards him. My father jumped into the fray, protecting his king and fulfilling his oath as a Swordsman. He defensively brought his sword to meet the woman’s ethereal weapon.

Sparks flew across the room, illuminating the room to an almost blinding level. Almost. I looked toward the fearsome ruler’s sister. I saw the hands of Nyx contort into an almost unnatural fist before releasing the tension in her arm as if nothing happened. Maybe I was right about where the power was.

Once the light dispelled, my heart broke into a million pieces. King Caderyn was hit by the blast. He has fallen on the marble floors in a way I had seen once before in a gnomish vision and a million times since in my nightmares. But my nightmares never imagined my father on the ground next to him.