Monarch (War of the Princes) by Ivanovich A. R

Author:Ivanovich, A. R. [Ivanovich, A. R.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2014-05-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29: The Prince from Afar

Now more than ever, I wanted to meet Prince Varion. I wanted to see what a real monster looked like. What kind of a person was capable of reanimating the dead? Who could be comfortable piecing their hollow forms back together to use them as weapons? Their eyes were as vacant as porcelain figurines– their bodies as monotone as newsprint. Hadn't those soldiers given enough? I'd seen Sterling drained right in front of me. After his color faded, there was nothing of him left inside. His body breathed for a few days and then stopped. What were the Empty? Did they think or feel? Rune had seen them as we went by. It would have been impossible not to. I wondered what he thought about being a soldier in life, only to fight again in death. But if their individualism was stolen when they were drained, did that mean these were mere husks, empty and fighting like puppets?

I pulled Kyle's coat closer around me.

Our glass-eyed guide stopped us from going any further. We were in an oval hall overlooked by a mezzanine deeply set with shadowy alcoves. Soldiers and civilians alike filled the room to capacity, and all buckled down on bended knee. The silence was reverent.

Our escort stooped to the exquisitely intricate rugs, and not being fools, Rune, Kyle and I quickly followed suit. Again the voice boomed, and this time I listened.

“His Excellency, ruler of the divine North, lawful heir to the one throne of Lastland, Prince Varion Argent,” the voice announced.

Tilting my head, I peered up. A hulking form strode out on the mezzanine. He was massive enough to see from the back of the crowd, forty feet down, and one hundred feet away. I had no direct point of reference, but two metal cats stood at his side, and he was significantly larger than them both. Plated in heavy bronze armor, his resounding footfalls had a voice of their own. I doubted very much that any average human could hold the weight of so much shielding. The pauldrons on each shoulder were larger than his head. His helm pointed at the front of his face, and only cracked open wide enough for his eyes.

He stopped at the center of the balcony and gripped the rail with his hands. “Rise.” His voice was like thunder, and he wasn’t shouting.

There was a choir of stomping feet as the entire crowd lifted up from the floor in unison. Standing allowed me to look at him more freely, but I was still too far away for details. Aside from his enormity, he was shaped like a human, so far as I could tell. But what face hid beneath that helm?

“Remain vigilant.” The words echoed through the hall, trembling the crystal chandeliers, and reverberating through my core. I sucked in a breath in an involuntary reaction to the power of his voice. I waited for more, but those two words were all he intended to give. He left us, the metal cats at his heels.

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