The crystal ball’s violet light slowly faded, as did the horrible voices that called to her from the beyond. The woman ran her scarred hands, through her auburn-colored war braids in frustration. She then leaned back with a sigh in the high back chair near her large ornate desk, covered in scrolls and unfurled maps. Low candles burned as the morning sun fought to pierce the curtains upon her room’s windows.
The wizard, Galdur had succeeded in capturing Hierling, and Sealgair certainly would have loved seeing Hierling’s face, when he realized that he had been duped and betrayed. It was often that Hierling held the upper hand, in most matters of what he called the politics of steel. Seeing confusion run across his face would have been most enjoyable. Many years had passed since the parting of ways, and others perhaps had not fared as well in their endeavors.
The days of being a ranger were far behind her now, and so was the company she once kept. Yet now she needed her old companions, and knew that only with them did she stand a chance, to face the nightmares that awaited her.
Sealgair’s mind drifted back to memory…she could hear the voices and laughter of her old companions, as they celebrated a successful mission over ale, food and each other’s company.
A sudden and unexpected knock upon the door to her quarters, raised Sealgair from the navigation of her deepest thoughts…perhaps memories of simpler time.
“General Sealgair…the High-lord Darnaith.” Stated the guard outside her door.
Sealgair spat in frustration, how she longed for a bloody battle over the bitter words of politics. Sealgair growled a reply, “Enter.”
The door swung opened, a thin and ancient creature entered. He was bent with age, and covered in silks and gemstones. The perfume that emanated from him was mixed with the sour scent of sweat. The man’s sunken eyes peered from beneath his powered wig adorned with ribbons. A yellow-toothed grin spread between the man’s thin painted lips.
“I hope that…I have not disturbed your search for our lost Prince Than.” High-Lord Darnaith’s voice was filled with subtle malice.
“High-Lord…you are never a bother, and I am assembling a group of skilled mercenaries to help in my search.”
“So I have been told.” Lord Darnaith paused, coughed and then continued after he lowered a handkerchief from his lips. “The collection of your despicable associates, displeases me, but you have swayed other members of the council to trust your judgement.”
“It is wise not to waste our soldiers to the horrors of Lichgate, besides they are needed to watch Oben-Ru’s borders. Rumors of the dead stalking our land grows.” Sealgair informed her guest.
“The jabbering of drunks and the mad…if the Lichgate Wizard does as prophecy states… and returns. Then we shall have the Chosen One, Prince Than to lead us”
High-Lord Darnaith grinned. “That is unless the General Sealgair, is unable to find the missing Prince.
“Perhaps if the Prince had not gone forth chasing prophecy, and a fabled sword. He would be here, and I would miss your attentions greatly.” Sealgair replied coolly.
High-Lord Darnaith frowned at her response, and then raised a crooked finger that ended in a long, painted fingernail. “You may have convinced this council of your value, but I am not fooled. Captain Jevorg and his men will be joining your little quest, and best you hope, that your nefarious plans do not meet his blade.”
“I quiver with fear…If we are done with this visit, I have other pressing matters.” Sealgair sought to quickly end the unexpected visit from the High-Lord. _
“When you have gathered your vermin, bring them before the council.” High-Lord Darnaith ordered and turned to leave. “Guard!” He bellowed and then walked out as the door was opened for his exit.
Sealgair expectorated in disdain, she then retrieved her sword, that hung upon her chair and strapped it over her armored shoulder. She grabbed her plumed helm and put it on as she, opened the door of her chambers.
As she exited her quarters into the torchlit hall, the guard outside saluted his commander, upon her appearance.
“Find Captain Ahearn…tell him to alert me when Sir Durendal arrives.” Sealgair ordered.
“Yes..General.” The guard responded and left to fulfill his commander’s request.
Sealgair strode down the hall heading to the stairs that would lead down from her tower to the lower halls, and into the webs of political intrigue, that was often spun by Lords, who seemed more akin to spiders than men. The events surrounding future King, and his disappearance, was consuming the kingdom’s collective thought. It seemed that every tongue wagged with gossip, and dark tidings. Sealgair's spies had been very busy gathering information from all levels of the kingdom. The General frowned suddenly, when she thought how Hierling, would be amused that the great mercenary, Sealgair, had become a leader of spies and assassins. Hierling often pointed out that kingdoms where ruled, by poison and dagger, and not by soldiers and war…how right his words seemed now.
Prince Than’s brash quest for a fable sword had put Oben-Ru in peril and venerable not to the enemies out its walls, but those within. Sealgair knew if the Price was not returned to his throne, the council would take power and they would put High-Lord Darnaith in the Prince’s place. Something that would destroy everything Sealgair had built through years of battle and the occasional political concessions to Oben Ru’s noble houses. The General hoped that her old companions would help her, despite the invites they were given. Everything depended upon the success of Sealgair’s desperate plan, once that would take them all into the darkness and ruin, to find a Prince who might be dead already.
As she exited the stairs, the great council hall spread before her, and the gathering of nobility. Sealgair put on a mask of congeniality and greeted the den of vipers…It was going to be a long morning.
© Cathalson – 2021 / CANNOT BE USED WITHOUT PERMISSION.