Welcome to Fengarad by V. Moody

Author:V. Moody
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-06-16T23:00:00+00:00

19. By Royal Command

A man was holding the second set of doors open as I entered the vestibule and Laffi went straight in. I was right behind him, so it took a moment for me to see what kind of room we had entered. Good thing too. I probably wouldn’t have gone in if I’d known.

The place was packed. Hundreds of people, brightly dressed and chattering away, filled a raised gallery that went right round the room, standing ten deep. The moment I walked in, the noise stopped and they all stared down at me.

When I’d been told I had an audience with the King, I hadn’t expected an actual audience to be present.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I don’t do well with large crowds. I froze, suddenly unable to remember why I was here. My throat went dry and I could feel moisture forming on the tip of my nose, the back of my neck, the small of my back… everywhere, really. My face felt hot. Was it turning red? Could people tell? These sorts of thoughts only made it worse.

The room itself was about the size of football pitch. Arches along each wall supported the gallery above. In the alcoves under each arch stood a soldier, fully armoured and holding a spear. There were over a dozen of them, each built like Schwarzenegger in his prime. All wearing demon masks. They showed no signs of movement, each standing between pillars like a still-boxed action figure.

Intimidated? Me? Let’s just say it was a good thing I was wearing brown trousers.

At the far end of the room was a raised platform on which there was a large throne. Sitting on it, looking a bit bored, was a young man. Or at least he looked young. His all-purple outfit suggested wealth and opulence. His silver-blond hair hung down to his shoulders, fixed in place by a simple gold circlet. I’d put him in his early thirties.

I forced myself to move and followed Laffi as he walked across the room. He stopped in front of the platform and bowed deeply. I stood next to him waiting for him to stand up straight, but he just stayed there, bent over.

“My liege,” said Laffi, still bent over, “may I introduce to you the Visitor, Colin.”

An older man stood next to the throne. He was in a black robe with a velvet cap that was too small to cover his bald head. His face looked like someone had sucked all the fat out, giving him the appearance of a skeleton with skin.

“This is King Randall III,” said Skeletor. “It is customary to bow in his presence.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s not my custom.” It might read like I said this in cool, off-hand kind of way, but I didn’t. It was said in a mumbling, bitter voice. Even with all the people staring at me, my mind was still on Captain Genocide and the Avengers of Doom, so I wasn’t really focused on my current situation.

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