Fall of the Western Kings (Tirumfall Trilogy Book 1) (37 page)
Read Fall of the Western Kings (Tirumfall Trilogy Book 1) Online
Authors: J Drew Brumbaugh
“An imposter,” yelled Chantel, leaping from the throne. “Kill him!”
The guards at the doors nearest Pris jerked out their swords and turned to attack. Other guards drew their weapons and surrounded the party. The first mercenary to reach them swung his sword at Pris. Gant stepped between them, Valorius held aside. The two-handed stroke crashed squarely on Gant’s breastplate. Instead of cutting through, the blade shattered off at the hilt, leaving the soldier staring at the pieces as they clattered to the floor.
Two more guards attacked. Gant slammed the flat of Valorius against the wrist of the one to the right. The soldier’s sword spun across the room.
Dalphnia brought her hypnotic stare squarely on the second man’s eyes. “Stop,” she commanded and the man froze in mid-stride.
“Chantel, I am the emperor,” shouted Pris. “Return my throne to me.”
“The emperor’s dead,” shot back the High Minister, pointing an accusing finger at the boy. “I am the new emperor.”
A gasp escaped from those gathered in the Chamber.
“You reveal your true intentions,” said Pris. “Are there others who doubt my identity?”
A murmur of indecision rippled through the crowd.
“Then behold the Sword of Emperors.” Pris drew Thantalmos. Its voice rose through the assemblage, piercing. “I bring back Thantalmos to the Empire. Are there any who still doubt?” Pris had to yell to make himself heard above the keening of the sword.
No one moved, spellbound by the glittering weapon. Chantel leaped down the steps, screaming, “It’s a trick, an elf trick!” He waved his hands wildly, his eyes glazed over. “Stop the imposter. Stop him.”
Chantel grabbed the tall scepter of the royal office from its holder at the base of the dais. He raised the heavy metal-headed staff and ran across the chamber toward Pris.
“I’ll stop you. If the others are fooled, I certainly am not.”
Gant moved to intercept the minister, but Pris acted first. With a gesture of his free hand and a short string of arcane words, Pris loosed a spell. In midstride, Chantel froze as if turned to rock. A gasp of wonder escaped the onlookers that was audible even above Thantalmos.
Pris returned Thantalmos to her sheath and the room fell silent. The boy emperor walked to the former High Minister. The only sound was Pris’ footsteps echoing hollowly through the room.
He removed the royal scepter from Chantel’s stiff fist. Holding his reclaimed symbol of power, Pris mounted the steps to the dais, Gant, Dalphnia and Kalmine close at his heels. The other ministers still on the dais scattered. Pris turned at the throne and plopped down with little ceremony.
“Someone take Chantel to a holding cell before the spell wears off,” he snapped. “Also, have the High Priest report here at once. I think Chantel may be suffering from some form of insanity. We’ll see if the priest can cure him.”
Now Pris turned and glared at the huddled ministers. “All of you are relieved of your positions. Tomorrow morning, report to Kalmine, my new High Minister, for assignments more befitting your talents.”
Whimpers of fear answered Pris and the deposed ministers bowed low.
“Don’t worry, no one will be hurt or imprisoned. But lesser positions suit you, I think.” Then Pris waved away the cowered group.
“Well, Gant, what do you think?”
“I’d say you did very well, Your Majesty. And you hardly needed us.”
“Not now maybe, but I need to build a core of knights. I’d like you to lead them.”
Gant looked at the emperor, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “No, Dalphnia and I are returning to her woods. I’ve had enough adventure to last a lifetime.”
Pris’ smile drooped, and then brightened again. “But you’ll stay a few days won’t you? I must throw a feast in your honor. It’s the least I can do. And before you go, I’d like to discuss a few things, like how to change this ridiculous system of gaining an audience with the emperor. Everyone should have equal access to present their problems.
“Then, too, I’ve got to set up a force to rotate with the elves and knights at Chamber Pass. Everyone has to share in protecting the mountain border.”
Gant winked at Dalphnia and said, “I think we can stay a few days. We’re going to go back to Netherdorf first anyway so I can visit my father. Did you know he’s going to be the Royal Smith with his forge in the castle? And, we want to be there for the victory feast.”
“Then it’s settled. You’ll stay a week, no less, and return often. We’ll feast every time you return.”
Gant smiled and shook the emperor’s offered hand. At least this part of the world remained safe. He hoped he could hang up his armor and Valorius, and someday pass them on to his son. He thought of Zandinar and silently thanked him for his sacrifice. Dalphnia squeezed him tight. It brought Gant back to the present. Things were hardly ideal but at least for now the evil that roamed west of the Monolith Mountains was contained. Gant hoped it would stay that way for a long time. It wouldn’t.
If you enjoyed reading
Fall of the Western Kings
you might like to read these other works by J Drew Brumbaugh.
(A children’s book co-authored with Carolyn B. Berg)
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About the Author
J Drew Brumbaugh lives in northeast Ohio where he spends his time writing sci-fi, fantasy and suspense novels, teaching and training at the karate dojo he and his wife founded, building a Japanese garden in his back yard, and taking walks in the Cleveland Metro Parks. He continues to work on his next book and always has several stories in various stages of completion. He can be reached at
[email protected]
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