Conclave of Cannibals - A Black Hallows story by Tom G.H. Adams & Andrew Naisbitt

Author:Tom G.H. Adams & Andrew Naisbitt [Tom G.H. Adams and Andrew Naisbitt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Writing in Starlight
Published: 2019-10-23T23:00:00+00:00

The Dragon Riders threw the last Kaldoran body onto a pile outside the fissure. They would serve as meat for the carrion feeders and beasts of the hills — also as a warning to any other Kaldorans who might venture forth from the passageway.

Cistre cleaned her sword as Tayem approached her. Their relationship over the last two years had been a distant one, out of necessity. For while each of them attended the same battle training and dragon riding classes, Tayem possessed regal blood. Cistre, on the other hand, was an adopted consort, an honorary member of the Donnephon. It was as if the orphan was a step-sister, one who could be acknowledged but not held in close counsel. That had changed today. A blood bond had been struck, and Tayem was in her debt.

“I should thank you, Cistre,” Tayem said. “Your actions not only saved me, but prevented a catastrophe befalling our household.”

The orphan turned to her and smiled — a rare thing as her demeanour was all too often stoic and reserved. She looks genuinely abashed, Tayem thought.

“It was but a matter of duty,” Cistre replied.

“Perhaps, but nonetheless you are to be commended.”

“She is indeed,” Thorshil said, stepping over from the Kaldoran pile. “In fact, you both are. Today marks your final passage into the Dragon Rider ranks. You are oathsworn and fully confirmed to office.” Turning to Tayem he said, “You must now lead the Donnephon, while I am bound by our laws to step back.”

“What?” Tayem said in surprise. “I am not ready. Today I took my first blood, but to rule and command?”

“We are never ready for what life thrusts upon us,” he said, and placed both hands on her shoulders. “You have made me proud, and though I shall remain to advise and guide, I am no longer Regent. If your mother had lived to see this day, I know her pride would also know no bounds.”

At the mention of her mother, Tayem’s breath caught in her throat. It had been four sols since her passing, but she inhaled the censer of grief that burned in her heart as keenly as if it were yesterday. She felt the urge to change the subject, or lose face at the shedding of tears. “If I am now truly Queen, then I can appoint my own retinue and guard?”

“You can,” Thorshil replied, “although many are in position already.”

“I would have Cistre as my personal bodyguard,” she said emphatically.

“My Queen,” the orphan said. “This is too great an honour. I am unworthy.”

Tayem gazed at her with a mixture of emotions. “Do you accept, or not?”

“I …” She didn’t finish the sentence, but bowed at the young Queen’s feet. “If it is your will, my Queen, then I pledge my life in service to you.”

It was a solemn moment, but Tayem was certain she had made the right decision. There was something about the woman that filled Tayem with confidence. More than her prowess in battle, a sense that she was dependable and absolutely loyal.

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