Page 9 of Empire of Death
“We don’t talk the same way that you two speak.”
“Well, it’s time for that to change, isn’t it?” I challenged.
He took a drink from his canteen then rose to his feet. “See you in the morning.” He moved to the small tent he’d put together on his own. Pushed back the flap before he crawled inside and tied the entrances shut so bugs and rodents couldn’t get inside.
Wrath turned his gaze back to me.
A flimsy tent wasn’t enough of a barrier to keep out conversation, so I kept my silence.
He rose to his feet then moved to my tent on the other side of the campsite. He stood outside of it and waited for me to crawl inside first.
I let the fire continue to burn because there were no enemies in these lands as far as I knew, and I removed my armor piece by piece before I placed it outside since there wasn’t room in the small shelter.
When I crawled inside, he was somehow already there, in nothing but his underwear in my bedroll, already prepared for bed. It was too small for both of us to share, so I crawled on top of him and felt his hand slide into my hair before he moved his head up and kissed me. Kissed me like he’d been thinking about it for the last hour.
But his advance never went further than the kiss. He released me and helped me get into the bedroll with him, the light of the flames visible through the thin material of the tent. He cradled me mostly on top of him, his hand deep in my hair, my arm over his muscular chest. He turned slightly then brushed a kiss to my hairline before he went completely still. He didn’t say another word to me, even though his words could be spoken in silence.
I never slept well on my travels. The bunks under the deck of the galleon felt more like wooden planks, and the bedroll I packedfor land was as thin as paper. But sleeping on a hard stone of a man was somehow the most comfortable of all.
We cleaned up the campsite and prepared for departure.
Wrath was there, dressed like the god he was once more. He stood beside Zehemoth as I prepared my pack, my dragon and closest friend oblivious to the other being that was so close he could touch his scales. “The world is different outside the Southern Isles. A queen without a king is not seen as an equal, but an inferior in stature as well as might.” He continued to look down at me, eyes focused and a little angry at the edges. “Prove them wrong,Xivin.”
I gave an imperceptible nod in case Zehemoth or Hawk looked in my direction.
“Prove the power of your fist and show them the sharpness of your tongue. Hold your head high on those strong shoulders—because the god of the underworld and the king of the dead is always watching.” Then he disappeared within the blink of an eye, gone so abruptly that I still questioned whether these interactions were real…or a desperate ploy of imagination.
Hawk was already on Movack. “Ready, Lily?”
“Yeah.” I grabbed on to the straps and climbed up Zehemoth’s side before I dropped into the saddle and secured my legs in the bindings. It should be a smooth flight to the Empire Colonies, but I always latched myself into the straps because my father implored me to do so. I did that because if an attack ever struck, I would be thrown off Zehemoth before I could react, and ifZehemoth turned his back on the enemy to save me, he could be killed…and then we’d both be dead. “Let’s go.”
We leaped into the sky and continued our journey to the west to the Empire Colonies, which was a kingdom with a long and complicated history. They’d had one king, but then the colonies sought sovereignty, and back and forth it went for centuries, their line of rulership still fractured to this day. At that moment, King Ithaca presided over the kingdom as a whole, but each colony had its own leadership through a steward and its own set of laws. They also had control over trade agreements because each territory produced commodities unique to its terrain. The king seemed to be a figurehead and the leader of the military in the event of an invasion.
The mild climate changed the closer we reached the colonies, the air more frigid and colder. In the distance, we could see snow upon the tallest mountains, see a terrain far different from ours, which remained reasonably warm all year round. They didn’t have beautiful cliffs with stone the color of diluted blood. Didn’t have the same kinds of trees or flowers that bloomed all year round.
“I’m sure they’ve spotted us by now,” Hawk yelled over the wind that struck his face.
The landmass was surrounded by water on two sides, and the capital of the kingdom where King Ithaca resided was in the direct center, protected by the leagues of terrain and neighboring kingdoms that cushioned it from all sides.
The closer we got, the more distinct the castle became, the spires reaching high into the sky for Riviana to see, even though her sight was masked by the trees that surrounded her gateway.
The castle was constructed of dull-gray stone, windows in large arches, the building bigger than ours at home because we were confined to the space the cliff would allow. It seemed to be built on a slight hill, an ominous presence over the village and cities below that stretched into the valley. The air felt cold in my lungs, the clouds so gray and thick that a storm seemed imminent.
We began our descent to the castle, the lands that belonged to the king stretching for at least a league on all sides. The well-manicured lawns were visible with a maze of hedges, and on the other side was a large fountain that spewed water that it collected from an upstream hill.
Zehemoth touched down first, landing on the cobblestone courtyard that led to the entrance to the castle. Statues twenty feet tall created a curved V toward the entrance, each sculpture different from the last, some women and some men. A grandiose display of wealth that our castle lacked.
Hawk touched down after me and hopped off Movack.
The entrance to the castle was guarded by at least twenty soldiers, ten positioned by the front door that was twenty feet high and fifty feet wide, looking like the doorway to an entire city rather than the passage to the home of the king. The other soldiers were placed by the sculptures, guarding each one as if it were a person rather than an inanimate object.
More soldiers appeared from the rear, deployed from their barracks once we’d been spotted in the skies. It took them a while to arrive, and that made me realize how vulnerable they were to an attack by the Southern Isles—if we woke up one morning and decided we didn’t like them anymore.
A soldier in armor that was heavier than all the others approached us, keeping his helmet in place like he wasn’t allowed to take it off or it was unclear if we were a threat. His eyes flicked from Hawk to me, clearly having no idea who we were, despite the dragons that had brought us here. His eyes settled on Hawk, deciding he was the one in charge. “Commander Rolfe. You’ve encroached on our lands with no warning or request, so forgive me if our reception seems hostile.”
“No apology is required,” I said, bringing his attention back to me. “Queen Lily Rothschild of the Southern Isles.” I nodded to my brother. “Hawk Rothschild, general of the army of men and dragons. I need to speak with King Ithaca immediately.”
His eyes lingered upon my face a moment longer than they should have before he gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. “I’ll speak with His Highness and return momentarily.”
