Morgan Rice - A feast of dragons

She had planned with Godfrey to meet him outside the chamber, with Firth, so that they could all three march in and confront Gareth at this meeting-in front of all the councilmembers-and to publicly prove his guilt. Thor had offered to accompany her, and it was an offer she accepted gladly. After last night, a long, magical night together, she did not want to part from his side, and she felt more secure having him there as backup. Of course the chamber would be filled with councilmembers and guards who would have no choice but to back her up and arrest Gareth once the proof came to light. But having Thor there gave her an extra layer of assurance.

They turned another corner, and Gwen smiled to herself as she thought of her night with Thor. She had slept in his arms amidst the flowers, in the royal gardens, the fall breezes caressing them all night long. They had fallen asleep looking up at the stars, and it had been divine. Her life had been upside down since the death of her father, in a constant state of anxiety and turmoil, but now, with Thor’s return, and with Gareth about to be deposed and Kendrick about to be freed, she felt that things would finally return to a semblance of normal.

As they marched down the final, long corridor that led to the Council chamber, her heart was pounding. She could not underestimate Gareth, and she knew he would not take this well. He had lived his whole life to rule, and he would do anything he could to keep power, to hold onto his throne. He could be a very convincing liar, and she tried to prepare herself for his denials, his recriminations. She just prayed that Firth would be consistent, would be a strong witness against him. She assumed that his testimony, along with the presentation of the murder weapon, which she kept in her waist, would leave no room for doubt.

“You okay?” Thor asked sweetly, reaching over and taking her hand. He must have sensed her nervousness.

Gwen nodded back, squeezing his hand, then letting go.

The two of them continued down the corridor, their footsteps echoing, passing rows of open-aired windows, the early morning light streaking in. She felt what it would be like to march somewhere with Thor by her side. As a couple. It felt good. Natural. She felt a sense of peace in his presence. She felt stronger.

They reached the end of the corridor, and turned and faced the huge, arched oak doors to the council room. She heard muffled voices behind it, and before it stood several guards.

As she stood there, Gwen was confused. Godfrey and Firth were supposed to be waiting for her here, to meet her and walk in together. She had gone over the plan with Godfrey several times-she could not understand where he was. They had both been precise about it. Without them there, how could she proceed?

“My lady?” a guard asked. “I’m afraid a Council session is in progress.”

“Has my brother been here? Godfrey?” she asked.

The guards looked at each other, puzzled.

“No, my lady.”

Gwen’s heart pounded. Something was wrong. Godfrey wouldn’t not show up. Where could he be? Had he reverted to his ways, had he gone back to the taverns? Was he drinking? And where was Firth? She sensed deep down that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

She stood there, torn, and debated what to do. She couldn’t walk away. Not now. There was too much at stake, and no time left to lose. If she had to do this on her own, then she would.

She was about to command the guards to let her in, when suddenly there came a great rumble of footsteps from down the opposite corridor. She and Thor spun, and saw approaching them a contingent of a dozen soldiers, Brom leading the pack. He wore a deep scowl and a look of grave concern, and he marched quickly, the others on his tail, all members of The Silver, famous warriors each.

“Open these doors at once,” Brom commanded the guards.

“But sire, a Council meeting is in session,” said one of the guards tentatively, looking very nervous.

Brom quickly moved one hand to his hilt, menacing.

“I’m not going to tell you again,” he growled.

The guards exchanged a glance, then quickly stepped aside and yanked open the doors.

Brom, furious, marched right past them, into the Council chamber, followed by his men.

Gwen and Thor exchanged a puzzled look, then followed them in.

Gwen was baffled; this was not going as she had planned. She had to find out what was going on, and to decide if now was the right time to confront Gareth.

As they followed them in, the big doors slammed closed behind them, and a dozen councilmembers, seated in a broad semi-circle, in ancient, oak chairs, all turned. Gareth sat in the center of the room, on his throne, and looked up, surprised. Gareth scowled.

“Well, well,” Gareth said. “If it isn’t Brom. If I recall, you quit this council.”

“I have come to deliver dire news,” Brom said hastily. “Our men tell us of a breach of the Highlands. A full scale invasion of the McClouds. Entire villages wiped out. It seems the McClouds have found their opportunity in your reign. They are murdering our people even as we speak. War has begun.”

Gwen felt the wind taken from her; she could hardly believe this news, as she stood several feet behind them, watching the whole thing. She watched Gareth’s face transform, to one of shock. He sat there, frozen, not responding.

“What do you propose we do?” Brom prodded.

“What do you mean?” Gareth asked, nervous.

“I mean, what is your command? What is your strategy? How do you plan to meet their forces? Which formations will you choose? Which armies will you send out? Which will stay at home? And what will be our counterattack? How many fortifications will be manned? And how do you propose we defend the villages?”

Gareth sat there, opening his mouth to speak several times, then closing it. He looked stumped, flustered, clearly in way over his head.

“I…” he began, clearing his throat, then stopped. “I think…maybe it’s not as bad as you think. Let’s wait and see what happens.”

“Wait and see what happens?” Brom echoed, aghast.

“We can always deal with it later, if they get too close,” Gareth said. “It’s probably just a raid, and they’ll go back home soon. Besides, we have a festival coming up, and I don’t want the preparations for our parties disturbed.”

Brom stared back at him with a look of shock and disgust. Finally, his face turned a shade of purple.

“You are a disgrace to your father’s memory,” Brom said.

With that, Brom turned and stormed from the room, his men following.

Gareth rose and bunched his fists, red-faced.

“You get back here!” Gareth screamed. “Don’t you ever turn your back on your King! That is treason. I will have you arrested! You will do as I command! Brom! BROM! ARREST HIM!”

But the guards stood there, frozen, afraid to go near Brom.

Brom stormed out of the chamber, his men following, and Gwen and Thor turned and hurried out after them.

Back out in the open hall, the doors slammed behind them, Gwen hurried over to Brom as he began to march off.

“Sire!” she yelled.

Brom stopped and turned, still heated.

“My lady,” he said with deference, but impatience. “Your father would have never accepted that,” he added, still fuming.

“I know,” she answered. “My father never would have accepted many things happening here. What do you plan to do? About the invasion?”

“I must act. What other choice do I have? I can’t sit by and watch my homeland destroyed. I will act with or without the authority of the King. I will mobilize our forces on my own. I will take control of the army. It is heresy, but I have no choice. We must defend.”

“That is exactly what you should do,” she said.