Ampheus by Jonathan Forth

Author:Jonathan Forth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2019-01-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

The King’s Captain

King Armanar pulled up Star Dancer and leant forward on his stallion. “Well, well, Gorath. It has been a long time. You don’t send any notice, not a message, not even a pigeon, and you turn up on my doorstep without warning. I hope you brought a gift, a nice bottle of wine, or a pie or something.”

Gorath wore a leather tunic over his feeble decaying old body. He pulled back a hood revealing a deeply wrinkled, pockmarked face reflecting the ravages of time. His eyes almost opaque, blind to much of the world around him. His yellowing, decayed teeth fixed in a snarl of contempt. The Quintessence Totem keeping him alive but taking its toll on the old Druid’s body. But while this may have dwindled his abilities, it had not diminished his thirst for power.

He raised a spindly arm at King Armanar, pointing a thin arthritic finger in his direction.

“Ahhh, is that the famous Armanar wit I have heard so much about?” growled Gorath. “You’ll not be so funny when I tear out your tongue and feed it to the rats.”

“Charming,” said the King. “Instead of tearing out my tongue, why don’t you take your foul-mouthed one and trot off back home.”

Anger flicked across Gorath’s face. “I shall rip your head from your shoulders and sit it on a pike and parade it round for all to witness. Terramis can watch your head rot. Your eyes pecked out by birds and maggots devouring your brains.”

“Again, I sense a little pent-up anger. You should see someone about that. However, where are my manners?” said King Armanar. He signalled with his arm.

“The chief of my King’s Guard, Logar, and Sumnar, the ex-head of my Guards, now retired.”

“Armanar,” started Gorath.

“King,” interrupted King Armanar.

“What?” said Gorath.

“King, King Armanar. Normally I would dispense with such formalities, but seeing it is you I must insist.”

“Armanar,” said Gorath; “King,” interrupted Armanar again. The veins popped on Gorath’s forehead.

He paused and took a deep breath, perhaps counted to ten. He was not used to such insolence. You suspected that he had a first and final rule for such cheek resulting in either beheading or having your tongue pulled out and fed to the rats. “King Armanar, is that how it is now? Are your defences so weak you need to pull old men out of retirement to fight your battles?”

It had lost a lot in delay of delivery. Gorath’s eye twitched.

“You don’t need to worry,” responded Sumnar. “I could take any of your swarm to school if you like.”

“Armanar keep your old dog at heel lest I set my prize pit-bull on him. This is General Shomari, my Chief of Arms.” Logar stiffened and Gorath chuckled.

“Ahhh, you recognise the name Logar. Well Captain Shomari, as he was at the time; it was he who killed your mother and father and took your sister captive, and left you an orphan.”

He registered the shock on Logar’s face. “Why, I do believe you were not aware that you had a sister.

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