Kastali Dun

Reyr had never before been so displeased with King Talon in all his life. Leading up to the trial, he held firm to the belief that his king would come to his senses. Unfortunately, Talon's propensity for reason evaporated the moment Claire presented herself. In its place he found an erratic and unpredictable ruler—one who resorted to gruesome threats.

Claire had every right to say what she did. Although, erupting before an entire kingdom was not the best practice in decorum. When was she ever proper? His mind drifted back through their time together. Since the beginning, she displayed true grit in all things. He admired that about her.

"Smiling, are we?" Jovari's question pulled him back to the present. "Come now, do share. The rest of us could use a lift in our moods."

He shrugged, casually playing it off. Too often he thought of Claire when he should not have.

"See here brothers, Reyr wishes for us to remain sullen." Jovari was never one to give up. Bedelth and Koldis were also present. Verath smartly abandoned Reyr's chambers after their fifth bottle of wine. Drinking was a most effective way to drown worry, and they indulged excessively since the trial's end.

"Remain sullen?" He arched an eyebrow at Jovari, falling for his bait. "I wish nothing of the sort. I am not so heartless."

"If that is true, then share your happiness with us. A private joke perhaps?"

"Hardly. I was merely thinking of the trial—of Claire and what she said to the king."

"Ah-ha!" Jovari lifted an accusing finger. "I knew it."

"Quite the ball of fire, that one." Bedelth was new to Claire's disposition and had spent no time with her.

"Ball of fire is an understatement," Koldis huffed, crossing his arms. A sly smile played upon his lips. "If only you knew what she put us through these past few weeks."

"Believe me, after this morning, my understanding has improved. If anyone can stand up to our king, it is she."

"He deserved it," Jovari said. It was what they were all thinking. "He should have listened to us last night. No wonder his feathers are ruffled—his scales, I mean."

"Regretting his actions by now, I should hope," Koldis said.

"It is unlike him to behave so irrationally." Bedelth shifted, looking at Reyr for answers. "How long will he remain barricaded within his tow—"

The door burst open, slamming against the wall. They fell silent. Verath entered, frowning as he glanced between them.

"Ahhh! The high and mighty has returned!" Jovari threw his arms wide, sloshing wine. He failed to see Verath's distress. Too drunk already. "Not too good for us after all, eh, Verath?"

"The king still refuses to see me," Verath said, sitting down to pour more wine into the glass he previously abandoned.

"Of course he does." Jovari slurred his words. "I would be out of sorts too after that feline's scratches."

"That is not what worries me." Verath gave Jovari a stern glare, not amused by his intoxication. Most Drengr took to drink quite well, the young ones less so than the rest, but Jovari was pouring at a much faster rate than the others. It showed.

"What worries you?" Reyr asked, sitting forward in his seat. Verath was generally reserved. His change in demeanor was unsettling.

"The guards at King Talon's tower have left me uneasy. I do not wish to rekindle our fears from earlier, but perhaps we must do something."

Reyr's skin crawled. "You do not mean to say..."

"I mean to say that a message was carried from the king's tower to the dungeons. Claire is to be moved." Verath stared into his goblet as he spoke.

"Moved? Moved where?"

"Not out of the dungeons, I can promise you of that."

Koldis jumped to his feet. "We've got to do something. He cannot move her to the Screamers."

"What?!" Jovari sputtered. The Screamers was a common nickname invented by the guards for the torture chambers. These were the rooms that only the lowest traitors were taken. "Those rooms have gone unused for ten years. He would not dare!" Jovari looked back and forth between them. "I thought we decided earlier that it was unlikely such an event would occur. Did we not, Reyr?"

"You can fix this, Reyr, can you not?" Bedelth looked at him. Koldis had abandoned his drink and set about pacing between the table and fireplace.

He growled. "I have tried talking to him. He has closed his mind to me."

"Then you must go to him," Bedelth insisted. "You are his favorite."

"I think you mistake me for Cyrus."

"Well Cyrus is no longer here to fix things, is he?" Koldis was nearly shouting now, his temper back to where it was after the trial.

"I wish he were here—I wish Cyrus were here. We would not be in this mess otherwise." Jovari pulled at his hair.

"Cyrus would be here," Verath said, giving Reyr a knowing glance, "had he heeded Reyr's council."

There was a pause. "What council?" Koldis asked.

"You did not tell them?" Verath arched a curious eyebrow at him.

He shook his head. Perhaps he should have said something. "This is my fault. I should have done more."

"More?" Verath grunted. "Gods above, Reyr. I already told you. What more could you have done?" Verath alone had been aware of what transpired before Cyrus departed for Esterpine.

"I should have demanded that he stay," he said. "I should have forced him."

"You advised him to stay?" Koldis looked stunned. "You did not...I thought we were in agreement with the king's plan?"

Verath shook his head. "No, not all of us. Not Reyr."

"Then why did Cyrus go?" Koldis's brows pulled together. Perhaps now he understood the same hurt Reyr felt. When Cyrus left in spite of his council, it was a heavy blow.

Verath answered for him. "Cyrus left because he disagreed with Reyr's advice. Reyr failed to mention it to you because of his unnecessary guilt." Verath looked him dead in the eye. "It was the king's mission to give, Reyr, not yours. Place your blame with him if you must."

Jovari pulled his head from his hands, his brow scrunched with concern. "You knew it was folly even then? You knew his mission was doomed?"

"He knew, even when the rest of us failed to see the danger. For that, he is wiser than I." Verath said. He was older than all of them. Still, he openly acknowledged Reyr's wisdom in the matter. "Reyr, you are our best hope. Go to the king. Insist that he see reason. Remind him of what happened the last time your council went unheeded. You alone can fix this."

"And if he refuses to see me, as he has already done for all of us?"

"Tear down the doors if you must."

He sighed. Verath was right. He knew what he needed to do. He placed his hands atop his thighs and leaned back against the sofa, letting his head fall against it. The others grew silent. Behind the darkness of his lids, he prepared his mind for confrontation. He played through the conversation he would have with the king, thinking of all the best words to use. But each argument seemed as hopeless as the next. How could he convince his crazed king of anything?

"Reyr, we hoped he would calm down. We hoped to speak sense into him. It seems our plan has failed. Save him from his foolishness. If you love him as we all do, you will do this."

He opened his eyes. "Very well. I will go."

***

When he reached King Talon's tower, the guards barred his entry. He expected this. "Begging your pardon, Lord Reyr. We do not like refusing you, but king's orders."

"You do realize I can easily get past you if I so desire. Save yourself the hurt and let me by." He was in no mood to bargain. He had never once been refused by the guards of Kastali Dun.

"If we allow you to pass, the king's wrath will be more severe than yours, Lord Reyr. We will take our chances."

He understood their meaning. They were merely following orders. Allowing him to pass would bring Talon's fury upon them. The king did not tolerate disobedience. "Very well then. And I do apologize." For a moment, his words were met with looks of confusion. Fortunately he moved faster than they could blink. He slammed each of their heads together. Their helms clanked loudly, echoing down the hall. In an instant they were unconscious. He could have used magic by simply speaking the commands for sleep. They would have dropped all the same. This felt more satisfying.

He found Talon's tower empty. Had the king taken flight? Gods only knew he could use the silence of the sky to calm his temper. Yet something was amiss, and his mood darkened further. Where had Talon gone?

In his mind he already knew, but he could hardly bear the thought. Rushing from Talon's tower, he stormed through the keep. What if he was too late? Hope clipped at his heels, driving him forward. Curse the gods for letting it come to this!

He entered the dungeons at such a sprint, the guards shouted after him in surprise. He continued down the dark corridors without stopping.

"Please, Lord Reyr," they called in his wake. "None are permitted without the king's permission!"

Their words told him all he needed to know. The king had been this way. He ignored their protests and their voices faded. They knew better than to chase after him.

The Screamers were located on the lowest level at the end of the last corridor. All the doors were cracked open save one. There were no sounds from within, but he did not care to wait for any.

"Hinga laesa," he commanded, simultaneously pushing against the heavy door. It creaked as it swung open. He was unprepared for the sight that greeted him.

"Talon!" he roared, too shocked for proper address. "What is the meaning of this?!"

Claire was strapped to a rack, gagged and terrified. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Talon stood over her, blade to her throat, looking more crazed than Reyr had ever seen him. In a panic, his eyes flicked to the lever arms at the ends of the table. The device had not yet been used. His lungs deflated with relief. He was not too late.

"Talon..." His voice held warning.

"If she refuses to talk, I will make her talk." The voice that answered him was not Talon's—it belonged to his snarling beast. The black dragon had taken over.

"Curse the gods, Talon! How can she talk when she's gagged? This is madness! Come into the hall. I must speak with you. Immediately."

"You should not be here, Reyr."

"Come into the hall. I command it of you." It was a true trial to hold his voice steady. Crossing the path of a black dragon was risky.

Talon began to laugh. What if he was truly lost? What if there was no going back? To bear the color black was to be cursed. The thought nearly broke his heart. At last Talon's laughing ceased. "You dare command me, Reyr?"

Ignoring the bait, he entered the room and went to the table. His eyes met Claire's eyes for a brief second. What he saw in her green depths calmed him. She was not so scared as he believed. She was being very brave. Talon did not remove the dagger from her throat, so he placed his hand gently on his king's arm.

"Talon, my king, please come into the hall. Speak with me before you do something you will regret forever." For a moment it appeared as if Talon would defy him. The beast within certainly wanted to. He saw the struggle in Talon's eyes.

The king heaved a frustrated sigh and pulled the blade away. It was the first step towards success.

When they entered the corridor and shut the door to the chamber, it took every ounce of his strength to keep himself under control. He wanted so badly to fall into explosive rage, to scream at Talon for being an idiot, to shake him and slam the male against the wall if he had to, to knock some sense into him. But...Talon was his king. They had been through many hardships together. He hoped this would not be the last—there had to be some way to save Talon from his insanity.

"Talon," he said, keeping his voice controlled, "I cannot bear to think of the outcome had I found you a moment later. Do you think killing Claire will solve anything?"

"You should not interfere, Reyr. Had anyone else interrupted me, they would be dead." Talon's voice was still very beast-like.

"I must interfere! She carries valuable information—information we need."

"So you think!"

"So I know."

Talon was breathing hard, like an angry bull before the charge. There was fire in his eyes, and he was ready to unleash it. "Your mind is too clouded, Reyr, you allowed her to seduce it."

He shook his head. "You think killing her will bring Cyrus back? That it will fix this mess? Is that what you intended by it? Slit her throat and be done?"

At the mention of Cyrus, Talon's shoulders dropped a measure. He began to look more human. "I admit it crossed my mind, but no. I do not intend to kill her." He sighed. "Only to scare her."

"Scare her?" He nearly choked. "Good gods, Talon! Of all the insane things you have done in your many lifetimes of years, this is the most reckless and dishonorable." Now was not the time to scold him. When his dragon finally receded, Talon would feel remorse enough.

"Reyr, she humiliated me."

"She gave you no less than you deserved! Like a cat to bait, you threw yourself right back at her. You are the king, not the reckless youth of your past! Furthermore, by coming here tonight, you have merely proven correct everything she said against you."

"All that I did was done to protect this kingdom."

"At the expense of your reason! And you have done splendidly until now—until she came into the fold."

"Reason? Bah!"

"I told you she was innocent, Talon. Did we not advise you to forgo the trial? Did we not advise you to speak with her alone as she wished?"

"If you believe she is innocent, that merely confirms my theory. Your mind is poisoned to her."

"I am not under any spell!" he roared, finally losing control. Talon flinched and backed up a step. "She has not bewitched us. You merely fail to see what we see." He sighed. "Do you remember when you asked me to take up my oath as one of your six? I made a promise to you. I vowed that I would be truthful to you, even when the truth was difficult to bear. I told you that I would never hold myself back, even if what you needed to hear might be unpleasant. Well I tell you this now. You have made many poor decisions, but this one is both dishonorable and appalling." He waited for a response but none came. "You also made me a promise. Do you remember? We made a bargain long ago—or have you forgotten?"

Talon sighed. His shoulders fell. The beast was stepping back into the shadows of his mind. This was a more familiar Talon, the Talon he swore his oath to. Reluctant, headstrong, stubborn as an ass, but reasonable. "I promised that if you stood by my side, that if you joined my six, I would grant you one favor, anything within my means to give, at the time of your choosing. But—" Talon hesitated. "You cannot possibly mean to spend your favor now—not on this woman."

"That is what you promised, and yes, I intend to spend it on her. The time has come for you to grant me what was promised. I wish for you to take my side on this matter and adhere to my wishes regarding Claire."

Talon's jaw worked. He scowled. "I suppose I have no choice in the matter?"

Reyr shook his head.

"Very well. What then do you suggest I do, since you are clearly wiser than I?"

"I suggest you go in there and put things right. Fix this mess you have created."

Talon grunted. He placed both hands on the back of his head and walked several paces away. His back was visible, but his face was hidden. Good. He was thinking things over.

Reyr's relief was formidable. Perhaps one day Talon would ultimately succumb to the black dragon within, but today was not that day.

After several long minutes, Talon faced him. "How, Reyr? How can I fix this? Will you go talk to her? Will you go and find out what truly happened?"

"Oh no!" He backed up several steps. "This is your mess. Besides, she will tell me nothing. It is you she must speak to." He paused to consider Claire's circumstances. She was waiting inside, desperate to tell Talon whatever Cyrus asked of her. The image of her on the rack flashed into his mind. He shook his head, still struggling to believe it. "Gods, Talon. You had her gagged?! She probably would have told you everything you needed to know. You should never punish others for standing up to you like that—especially when you deserve it."

"I still do not trust her."

He snorted. "It seems you will never trust her until you talk to her. I will wait out here. If I hear so much as a yelp from her, if you so much as harm a hair on her head..." He let the sentence go unfinished.

Talon was far more powerful than he, but he made the threat anyway. He knew his king would deliver on his end of the bargain. A single favor for a life spent in servitude to his king. Was this favor truly worth it?

At last Talon nodded, leaving him to breathe a sigh of relief. "I hope I will not regret this," he muttered, stalking towards the door. His shoulders slumped. He had been beaten.

"I assure you, my king, you will not."

Without another word, Talon opened the door and vanished into the depths of the cell. 

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