“You will order your armies from my land,” Ramona repeated once more as she tore her eyes from the head of the former Palmerrio General. The amount of blood upset her, but she hoped it upset Weldon more.
“I cannot without the permission of the High King,” Weldon answered with a smug smile.
“We do not think the High King will protest,” Ramona answered with a smile of her own.
Weldon frowned.
“You’ll order your armies out of Toranado,” Gwaynn repeated.
“And if I don’t?”
Gwaynn stood. “Then you will join your General,” he said and slowly began to stand. He was hungry now, but he would slow time again if need be. The young man who challenged Gwaynn earlier took a quick step forward to block the way to the King. Weldon’s eyes grew slightly bigger, but to his credit he did not retreat.
“The High King will not stand for it,” Weldon said defiantly.
“We shall see,” Gwaynn replied, and then in a flash he recognized something in the King’s vocal companion
“Hold,” Gwaynn suddenly said and stared at the young man guarding the Palmerrio King. “Your name please?”
Weldon started, and the man looked a bit surprised. “Calbrick,” the young man answered.
“You’ve the smell of Sinis on you,” Gwaynn said. The man smiled, then quick as a cat lashed a kick at the nearest guard and wrenched a kali from his belt all in one motion. He spun half expecting Gwaynn to be upon him, but the Prince had not moved.
“Executioner…” Gwaynn said softly and motioned for his men to stand back. The guard who was kicked scrambled up from the floor, clearly angry.
“Are you alright Nate?” Gwaynn asked.
“Yes Sire,” the injured guard replied, rubbing his right knee.
“Toss your other kali to Calbrick,” Gwaynn ordered and the crowd erupted in protests.
“Tar Calbrick,” the young man said, not believing his luck, but as ordered an additional kali was tossed in the air to him. He spun the two weapons skillfully and turned to face Gwaynn with a good deal more confidence than he had a moment before.
“No…no…not a Tar,” Gwaynn corrected and both Tar Kostek and Tar Endid broke into smiles. N’dori just laughed lightly. Gwaynn moved forward off the wooden Dias, his face already furrowed in deep concentration as he began to manipulate time. This kill would not be fair, but it would be designed to instill great terror within the Palmerrio King. N’dori watched everything with a happy sparkle in her eye; the young Massi King was indeed worthy of the great Tar Nev. Calbrick backed away slightly, very confident but as he glanced about at the others he noticed that no one on the Massi side of the courtyard showed any signs of concern. Their King was risking his life. He would obviously be facing a very skilled opponent, but no one on the Massi side seemed agitated in the least. He wondered briefly at it, but then crouched as Gwaynn began to circle him.
“You will order your men from Eno and Toranado,” Gwaynn said as he passed Weldon, glancing briefly at the Palmerrio King. It was at that moment that Calbrick pounced, just as Gwaynn expected, but Gwaynn was no longer where the Executioner expected him to be. Time once again slowed to a crawl and Gwaynn sliced easily through the Executioner’s right arm, the blow coming from a slightly different angle than the young man expected. Gwaynn quickly moved around and stood before King Weldon once again then released time. The young man from Sinis screamed loudly as his hand fell away. Weldon jumped and his mouth fell open. From his point of view Gwaynn’s movements were just a blur, much too fast for the eye to follow.
“You will order your men from Eno and Toranado,” Gwaynn repeated, staring directly into the King’s eyes. Real, deep fear appeared there as the older man stared back but Gwaynn did not pause to enjoy the look, instead he slowed time again and quickly cut the head from the Executioner and then sheathed his kali and return to his chair. He was very tired, and hunger was knifing through his belly, but he was determined to show no weakness before King Weldon Palmerrio. Time lurched forward, Gwaynn’s control slipping a bit in his exhaustion. King Weldon gasped loudly as Calbrick’s head thumped to the ground, even before his body crumpled. But his surprise was lost among the host of others, only N’dori seemed unperturbed by the eerily quick movements of the Prince. Her light laughter now filled the stunned hall.
“You will order your men from Eno and Toranado today, this very hour,” Gwaynn demanded again and Weldon gazed at him in sheer terror.
Gwaynn fought against another crippling cramp but somehow remained upright. N’dori could see the beads of perspiration on the young King’s forehead and knew what the performance had cost him.
“He,” Gwaynn began, gesturing to Calbrick, “was not a Tar,” he continued and stared coldly at Weldon. “He was not even a very good Executioner,” he added and N’dori’s laugh echoed once more through the courtyard.
“He…he was a trainee, not a Tar,” Weldon replied still shaken by the unbelievably fast movements of the boy in front of him. It was not possible.
Gwaynn shrugged. “You will order your men from Toranado,” he stated simply and spun one bloody kali for emphasis.
Weldon stared fearfully at the swinging weapon and said nothing…but in the end, he did cooperate.
ǂ
“The Massi army has arrived in Manse,” Captain Tramm said with surprise and dolefulness. Tramm was a handsome young man with dark hair and eyes. He was tall with a slim build but with wide strong shoulders and thighs, the absolutely perfect build for a Knight. He’d risen through the ranks quickly and was a deadly horseman, but lacked the experience to understand the subtleties of strategy. He was learning, however.
Hothgaard looked up and sighed. It was what he feared as the days past and no word came from the King Weldon. The Palmerrio had obviously lost the Plateau.
“How strong?”
Tramm shook his head. “Hard to tell but there are cheers coming from the city.”
“Not returning in defeat then,” Hothgaard answered, knowing that taking Manse now was beyond the ability of his forces, maybe even with the arrival of the Rhondono army. The desire to pick up and leave this land suddenly threatened to overwhelm him once more.
“No…it doesn’t seem so,” Tramm answered, then asked. “Any word from Gan?”
Hothgaard shook his head. “Nothing yet, the King should have landed on the finger late yesterday…or perhaps this morning. We should have heard from him in any case.”
“We should pull back,” Tramm suggested, moving farther into the tent. He poured himself a small glass of water from the pitcher on the table and poured one for his commander as well. “Maybe threaten Cape again and perhaps they’ll be foolish enough to abandon their safe haven.”
Hothgaard nodded his head, which no longer hurt and his fever was gone. He was still weak but would completely recover within a day or two. He sat looking at the younger Captain, encouraged by the young man’s thoughts.
“Taking Manse may be out of the question now,” he finally replied. “The High King will not be happy, but I think we should move to the east, put pressure on Lynndon, perhaps join up with the King at the base of the finger.”