Disclaimer: You know the routine. Everything/one you know about already belongs to Tammy *bows reverently* but Zachary, Joseph, the other intruders, the place called Krhandæ and the Land-Across-the-Sea are M INE. If you DARE to take those from me, then you shall be forever shunned in my stories - I'll create some characters like you and give a LONG and SLOW and PAINFUL death. Or I'll just ridicule you on my site - your choice. Anyway, this disclaimer goes on for the entire story. Enjoy!
Chapter I
King Jonathan had called his small council to him. Now, Numair, Thayet, Alanna the Lioness, Buri, Onua, George, Gareth the Younger, and Raoul of Goldenlake were sitting at the table in his council room.
I suppose you're wondering why I've called this meeting so early in the morning, Jonathan started. Everyone exchanged irritated glances.
Alanna yawned. No, Jon, we're up 24-sevy just awaiting your summons. Do go on.
Jon chose to ignore her morning-sarcasm. He knew most of his small council were absolute bears in the morning. To get straight to the point, I've decided that we should improve our border-patrols. I don't want any sick animals being imported. I don't want to risk a livestock problem, like they're having in Galla. Hopefully, Daine'll figure out what's wrong before the sickness spreads.
Numair, stretching, said, Don't you think it's a wee bit farfetched, hoping she'll cure all the livestock in Galla? It is a big country, you know?
Jon glared at his friend. You think? He sighed. She's there to find a cure. The healers can brew some potion after she tells them what to do. Anyway, shall we move -
The king was interrupted by a bang outside his door. Then another bang, then a cry of pain.
What the cried Raoul. Drawing his sword, he flung open the doors. He cursed loudly when he was pushed back inside by several dangerous looking men.
Jonathan stood up slowly, his face puzzled. What is the meaning of this? he demanded, glaring at the intruders - who all had their swords drawn.
Sit down and shut up, one of them said in perfect Common.
Alanna jumped up so quickly that her chair toppled down. She glowed violet. Just who -
The stranger who had spoken gestured; Alanna was forced to sit down. Don't try to hurt us, Lioness. We'll make you swallow it.
The small council exchanged glances. All of them were about to draw their weapons - but then ten more warriors entered the room, followed by what looked to be lord.
His skin was copper, his almond-shaped eyes dark. His hair, which was waist-length, even braided, was golden blond. His dark crimson surcoat had a device sewn on it - a black dragon, spitting flames.
He regarded the stunned group of friends with an air of amusement. Walking up to the end of the table opposite of King Jonathan, he threw down his black leather gloves and sat down, putting his feet up.
This is so touching, he said after a while; his voice was smooth, with only a hint of an accent. The King and his dearest friends; the beautiful Queen Thayet. He nodded at her; she narrowed her eyes at him.
The fiery little Lioness; I dare say that I'll challenge you to a match someday. He grinned at the frowning Alanna. It's time someone ruined your reputation.
Pretty little Buri and tough Onua, the Queen's K'mir dogs. Buri was out of her seat, a dagger clenched in her hand. One of the man's warriors kicked her back to her chair.
The giants, Gareth and Raoul. Both of them shot the intruder dark looks, but they didn't move. Both were extremely aware of the daggers pressed at their throats.
The infamous Baron George. The man grinned at the ex-thief. Your looks betray you. He turned his dark eyes on Numair. And the great, all-powerful Numair Salmalín, the greatest mage in Tortall, the king's pet magician. Where's your little student, the Wildmage? I'm surprised she's not here.
She's - away, Numair said stiffly.
The man grinned. Of course.
You know who we are, Jonathan said quietly. Now kindly introduce yourself, and explain why these men have interrupted our meeting, and with drawn steel!
I am Zachary of Krhandæ, the First of His Name, Lord of Krhandæ and of the Land-Across-the-Sea, the Crimson Knight, the man replied graciously. And as to why I let my men draw steel - I'm here to take your throne, Jonathan! He laughed.
Alanna was suddenly on the table, sword in hand. You go too far! she spat; instantly, Raoul, Gareth, George, Buri, Thayet, and Onua were beside her, empty hands suddenly filled with weapons. Jonathan and Numair had started to glow with their Gifts.
Zachary raised an eyebrow. he asked dryly. Joseph, please make them rethink their actions.
Immediately, Zachary's men attacked the Tortallans. They scuffled for a few minutes, but the invaders proved to be too many. The Tortallans were stripped of their weapons and forced back to their seats. Jonathan and Numair were startled when they found they had been collared.
Those collars are made from pure iron, Zachary said quietly. Try to use your Gift, and it'll burn you. I advise you not to fool around with your magic. He snapped his fingers, and some of his men collared the rest of the Gifted Tortallans.
What do you want? Jonathan demanded.
Didn't I say? Zachary asked, sounding surprised. Yes, I did. I'll repeat myself, though: I'm here to take your throne.
How are you going to do that? Alanna snarled. You and your men are way outnumbered here.
Zachary's laugh was mirthless. Few as they may be, they've accomplished their task. I now have the Conté and Cooper children in my care. I'm sure they'll find me a most amusing uncle.
You wouldn't dare! gasped Thayet. Not the children! Leave them out of this!
What would you have me do? Zachary retorted. Use you?
Thayet gave him a dirty look. You bas -
Interrupting the Queen by jumping to his feet, Zachary motioned to his men, who grabbed the Tortallans and herded them into the dungeons.
Make sure Master Roland has a chance to spell their chains, he told Joseph, a brutal looking man. To his prisoners, he said, I'm sure you'll find the dungeons an enjoyable place; I certainly did when I was here years ago.
The huge throne room was stuffed with people. Most were nobles, but several commoners had managed to avoid the strange new guards posted at every main entrance.
There were rumors flying around. Some said that King Jonathan had been murdered...no, no, the Contés had been poisoned. Actually, the Lioness had died while smuggling the royal children out of the city. Baron George Cooper had lost his wits, and now was rotting away in a small cell. Jonathan and Thayet had been beheaded - are you joking; they're on vacation, and their best friend is taking over the ruling - but the best friend was a blood-drinking madman from the Lands-Across-the-Sea, and he had a cloak made of children's skins...
Thus were the rumors...
Lord Zachary, from his post behind a spy hole in the wall behind the thrones, grinned. He just loved huge crowds - the bigger, the better.
Zachary turned around, his smile widening when he saw that Joseph and five of his best men had brought King Jonathan and Queen Thayet. The two monarchs were dressed in their best garments. Jewels glittered on their clothes, fingers, and hair.
You look so much the part that I feel I should bow, Zachary said dryly.
Jonathan bristled. We don't look the part; we are the part. You forget, we are the rulers of Tortall.
Sorry to burst your bubble, Zachary said calmly, turning back to his spy hole, but you're not. Not any more. It appears that I have the upper-hand in this whole affair. He returned his dark eyes to the Contés. My, my, Thayet, you are looking splendid today. You are thinking that your looks will save you?
The look that passed between Jonathan and Thayet was brief, yet absolutely convincing.
I do not think that will work, whispered Zachary cheerfully, his smile scolding. I've seen prettier women - hell, my wife has more looks. But you look fine, anyway.
I don't care what you do to me, Thayet spat, enraged. You can burn me at stake; you can tear me limb from limb -
cried Jonathan, aghast.
- but you must not hurt the children! finished the ex-queen. They have no idea what's happened -
They're under house arrest, Zachary supplied, fingering his dagger. They have good food and good treatment. Unfortunately, my good graces are not infinite. If you - or any other hostage - pushes their luck... He brought the dagger quickly to Thayet's creamy white throat and pressed it down sharply. I'll kill them. One by one. Starting with...the Crown Prince.
Thayet's hazel eyes were wide. They glinted with rage and hate.
Zachary said, sheathing the dagger and stepping away from the wall. His voice rang with laughter. Shall we?
Joseph's men pushed Thayet and Jonathan into the throne room. They sat in their thrones. The room had gone quiet.
Thank the gods! someone yelled from the huge crowd.
Majesties, are you well?
Where are the Coopers? And the others?
Is there a blood-sucking lord who wears a cloak made of children's skin?
The questions kept on coming. Finally, Jonathan stood up, gesturing for silence.
I must apologize for the undue worry we must have caused you, he began. He searched the crowd as if he was planning to jump and hide between the dozens of people.
So you are well, then? someone demanded; Jonathan didn't see who.
He sighed. In health, yes. But in spirit - no. He glanced at his wife, who stood up and clasped his hand. Opening his mouth to continue, he suddenly froze.
Lord Zachary had appeared next to him, all of the Conté and Cooper children behind him. They looked well - nicely clothed, fed - but terrified. Joseph and his darkly-clad men stood behind them.
Zachary met Jon's eyes; the King paled, but nodded his head slowly.
It is my doubtful pleasure, he began quietly, to introduce Lord Zachary of Krhandæ, the First of His Name, Lord of Krhandæ and of the Land-Across-the-Sea, the Crimson Knight.
Zachary added, I am not a blood-sucking madman, nor do I own a cloak made from children's skin. I love children, which is why I offer you a choice in the fate of these. He pushed the children forward. Earlier, I told King Jonathan that he had a choice to make: hand me throne of Tortall - or hand me the life of all these kids.
There was a sickly silence in the room. Everyone exchanged nervous glances.
Zachary turned to the monarchs. So, what will it be? The throne, or the kids?
Thayet closed her eyes, shuddering. Her grip on her husband's hand was very strong.
stammered Jonathan. He looked at the children, eyes miserable. His eldest son, Prince Roald, stared back at him. Alanna's Thom stared too - but his violet eyes were defiant.
The minutes stretched out. Finally, Zachary lost his patience. He strode forward, grabbed Thom and Roald, and pressed extremely nasty looking daggers to their throats. The day is long, Jonathan, he said. But their daylight is limited.
Jonathan looked at his wife. His look said, forgive me. She gave a small sob and looked away. Jonathan cleared his throat, I...give you our thrones, m'lord. I give you the power of the Dominion Jewel. I give you the power of the mages. I give you...Tortall.
CLIFFHANGER!!! (I hope.) Go on to Chapter 2 for the next exciting bit...oh, did you R&R *HINT**HINT*.