Kingdom of Bones by Philip C Quaintrell

Author:Philip C Quaintrell [Quaintrell, Philip C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quaintrell Publishings Ltd
Published: 2019-05-05T16:00:00+00:00

It took some time and even the help of a squire, but Vighon finally emerged from his room in full Namdhorian armour. His golden cloak flowed over the back of the shining armour, the black lion emblem printed in the very centre.

The first detail he noted about the armour was its colour; unlike the soldiers’ he saw everywhere around the keep, it wasn’t white. It had been the squire who had informed him that the polished silver was that of a captain’s uniform.

Vighon hadn’t been overly impressed. “It’s bloody heavy is what it is!” he had complained. “How do any of them fight in these things?”

Now, doing his best to walk normally, the northman made his way down the arching halls of The Dragon Keep in search of his father and an explanation. More than one Gold Cloak gave him a suspicious side-eye.

Only a few steps behind, an irritatingly close proximity, the squire continued to follow him in silence. Glancing over his shoulder at the young man, the squire responded with the look of a boy eager to please his father. It was annoying.

Outside, in The Dragon Keep’s central courtyard, Arlon Draqaro was deep in discussion with a man in golden armour and a white cloak. The opposing colours certainly made him stand out against the Gold Cloaks in their white armour, but it was his fiery red beard and mane of hair that gave the man a truly unique appearance.

Arlon caught sight of his son. “Ah, Captain Vighon!”

The new title stumped the northman for a moment, and the tirade he had been going over in his mind escaped him.

Clapping his hand on the older man’s gold pauldron, Arlon introduced him. “This is General Morkas, your commander.”

Vighon stopped in front of the pair and scrutinised the general in disbelief. He had never even had a title, let alone have a superior from whom he was to take orders. The closest experience he had was his time in The Ironsworn, but even the gang had a hierarchy that required climbing.

General Morkas was shaking his head. “I don’t doubt he can swing a sword, Lord Draqaro, but this won’t sit right with the men. This morning he was a nobody and now he’s to be their captain?”

Arlon’s expression turned sour. “Nobody? His family name is Draqaro, General Morkas. He’s not some bastard that wears the cloak for coin.”

Morkas’s bushy eyebrows came together in an apologetic frown. “I meant no offence, Lord—”

Arlon raised a hand and silenced him. “You have assembled the necessary men to continue work on the mine?”

Morkas hesitated, glancing at Vighon. “Aye, my Lord. Mages too. They believe they have the equipment and spells to open the doors…”

“Then why are you still talking to me?” Arlon fired back. “Send them on their way before the orcs arrive and put us all on spikes. I will introduce Captain Vighon to his men,” he added.

General Morkas bowed and shot Vighon one last look before taking his leave. It was clear the two of them weren’t going to become fast friends, not that Vighon wished for that.

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