A Foolish Wind: The Oak Knower Chronicles (The Druids, Dragons and Demons Series Book 1) by Andy Roberts

Author:Andy Roberts [Roberts, Andy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dragonland Publishing
Published: 2018-02-24T22:00:00+00:00

The chancellor didn’t much care for the Law Room, it was claustrophobic and full of self-important old men, busying themselves with the broader details of the case. He searched for a window in the thick walls but had to satisfy himself with over-sized portraits of even older, self-important men. He took his seat on the front row and rubbed at the ends of the worn armrests. ‘The Threskans?' he asked when the bishop finally caught up and joined him.

‘Here by tomorrow’s first light, My Lord.’

Gelfroy sighed. ‘Winter’s Day.’

Tarunkeep fought with his seat, trying to make himself comfortable. ‘I fear the festival will have to be cancelled.’

The chancellor turned his head quickly and glowered. ‘Are you mad? The people would surely riot.’

‘But under the circumstances—’

Gelfroy leaned close. ‘Let me tell you this, Bishop. The people of our land believe that demons walk among us. Our forefathers saw fit to build a wall around the city, separating us from whatever lives out there in that forest. Our citizens feel safe only because of the ritual of the Winter’s Day Festival. To deny them such an event would have them fret all year long.’ Tarunkeep looked away as a young clerk of the court handed them both a copy of the case particulars, at the same time answering questions of general housekeeping when asked. Opposite, and shackled to the bars of their separate cells were Lanista Belb and the Reaban, Bhushar.

Gelfroy knew the shorter man; had discussed combat strategy with him on many an occasion at the Oval. The other was a monster, easily three hands taller than the lanista and a full sack of grain heavier without a doubt. Belb held his head bowed, a look of sad resignation on his face. Bhushar, on the other hand, brimmed with self-confidence and stalked his cell as far as the ankle chains would allow. He stopped pacing and forced his head against the cold ironwork, looked the chancellor’s way and grinned.

Gelfroy had no desire to play along and turned to check the room. ‘Where’s Gendrick?’

The clerk stopped what he was doing only briefly. ‘The minister says he’ll be here when he can, My Lord.’

Gelfroy clawed at his seat. ‘When he can?’ he spat the words. ‘This is all his doing.’ He hammered his fist into the leather and ignored the attention it drew from the pews.

Tarunkeep placed a hand on the Chancellor’s. ‘With due respect, My Lord, Vaspar Gendrick was nowhere near the Oval when the prince was murdered.’ The bishop nodded in the general direction of the prisoners. ‘And Lanista Belb has after all taken full responsibility.’

‘Of course he has,’ Gelfroy said. ‘A seasoned soldier doesn’t question a direct order from a superior.’ The chancellor had, for a very long time, sought to remove the Minister for Punishment from office and have him tried for Crimes Against the People. But Gendrick had always managed somehow to garner sufficient support from his fellow politicians to keep both his seat and liberty. The wretched man was either blessed, or something more underhand was afoot in the House.

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