Wisehart, Michael - The Aldoran Chronicles 01 - The White Tower by Wisehart Michael

Author:Wisehart, Michael [Wisehart, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

“When hope is all but lost,

And light has turned to dark.

There will a sign be given,

The rising of the marked.”

Ayrion recognized the passage from a book his parents had read to him as a child. He had lost it years ago, back when he had run the streets of Aramoor. How odd that it would be used here, in the middle of one of the deadliest places in Aldor.

The spokesman combed an impatient hand through his straight hair and huffed, clearly embarrassed at having to recite a silly children’s rhyme.

The two guards slid their weapons back into the sheaths at their waists then grabbed a large lever connected to the outer edge of the door and flipped it back. There was a loud metallic clicking sound as the locking mechanism was released.

Ayrion felt a twinge of dread as the rusted-out piece of hinged-metal started to open. The Warren Underground was not known for mercy. They had their own set of laws, carried out by tribunal, where the heads of the clans would meet to exact their own form of justice.

Ayrion couldn’t imagine what the clans would possibly want with him. Sure, he was the High King’s protector, but what did that have to do with the Warrens?

Over his shoulder, he could see that Amarysia was watching him. He was proud of the way she held herself, not showing any fear. It was quite the accomplishment, considering their present circumstances.

Ayrion cast a quick glance to the left of her at the man holding his swords. He wanted to keep him in sight at all times in case the opportunity arose for him to make a play for his weapons. Ayrion knew the barbarism practiced in this place, and there was no way he was going to let them do to him or Amarysia what he’d seen done to others in the past. He’d kill Amarysia before he let the men down here get their hands on her, and she would thank him for it.

The giant guards each placed a shoulder against the door and shoved. Light poured from the opening and bathed the small antechamber in a warm glow. As best he could, Ayrion craned his neck to see around the men and get a peek at what lay beyond.

Their tall, slender guide took a few steps into the next room and then bowed toward a raised platform with five seats. The platform had three tiers. Two high-backed chairs rested on opposite sides of the first rise, two more chairs sat atop the second rise, and a solitary throne-like seat, much larger and grandiose than the others, sat at the top.

The Warren Tribunal was similar to the political structure of Aldor and its five kingdoms. Each clan had a single head or representative that held one of the ruling seats on the tribunal, and just as Aldor had a High King, there was a Clan Chieftain whose rule stood above the rest. The only way to negate a chieftain’s order was by a unanimous vote from the remaining heads.

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