Bladeborn Saga 0003: An Echo of Titans by Edge TC

Author:Edge, TC [Edge, TC]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, upload
Published: 2021-09-09T06:00:00+00:00

26

He greeted the new king of Vandar without pomp and ceremony. Godrik Taynar was not a man for it. And neither am I. It credits us both. “Godrik, I’m glad you could finally join us.”

Godrik Taynar was of an age with Janilah, though not of a build. He wasn’t tall, nor broad, nor youthful for his years. His seamed face was hollow and gaunt, skin sallow, hair deeply receded beyond the forehead, once black, now grey with wisps of white. He had a thin nose, pointed jaw, and eyes as empty and expressionless as a corpse. His face could do with a beard to thicken it, Janilah thought, but Godrik Taynar had never favoured facial hair.

“Janilah.” The word was an icy breath. Taynar stalked forward with the shade of a limp in his left leg from an old war wound, dressed in dull silver and earthen brown, with a bit of Vandarian blue colouring the hems and sleeves of his robes. His shoulder clasps were in the form of steel-clad knights, thrusting their blades downward into the ground, the crest of House Taynar.

He stood from his throne to greet the new king. This man was not Ellis Reynar, nor Hadrin of House Thala. Godrik Taynar was of a very different sort, not the sort that Janilah could bully. He moved down the steps and joined him between the fluted white pillars of his throne room. They nodded to one another in unison, a sort of exchange of bows that served as a hand-shake between men of their high station. Behind the Vandarian king came a small host of Greycloaks and other attendants. Sir Nathaniel Oloran led them, having now left the service of Queen Elitha Reynar. His underlings who’d been there the day Janilah murdered King Ellis were also present at his side, as ever; Sir Gerald Strand and Sir Alyn Porter, Taynar men both. And of course Janilah had the welcome presence of Sir Owen Armdall and Sir Fredrick Ruxmond with him, who’d also borne witness to the regicide. The sworn swords were exchanging glances with the Greycloaks, and didn’t much like one another, it seemed. We are bound by treachery, Janilah thought, and these men don’t like it. Still, it was all a means to an end. Ellis’s death had paved the way for this meeting. It was one Janilah had been relishing for weeks.

“Come, Godrik, let us drink to our alliance.”

Wine was brought forward, and handed to the two kings. Godrik looked long into his cup. “I don’t like to drink until evening.”

Janilah felt something shrivel inside him at the man’s voice. Godrik Taynar had that effect. “A sip to seal it, is all I ask.” He had to be tactful with this man. He raised his own cup, hoping Taynar would follow. He did, though with reluctance. “To your crown, and the winning of this war,” Janilah said.

Taynar only grunted, took a perfunctory sip, and then handed the wine back over to an attendant. There are too many unknown faces here to talk plainly, Janilah thought.

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