Darkwalker on Moonshae - Douglas Niles [32]
“What kept you?” demanded the Red King. “The council will begin without us!”
“I was inspecting my company,” commented Laric coolly. The captain regarded the king boldly, subtly challenging him. Angrily, Grunnarch turned away. Damn Laric, anywayl It’s too bad the man was such a good leader of horsemen – Grunnarch could not afford to be without his services, or he would have dismissed Laric from his command years ago. Yet no other man could be expected to lead the Bloodriders with Laric’s flair and daring.
A servant stepped forward, taking the reins of the foaming black horse, and leading it toward the camp of the Red King’s army. Laric ambled toward the king with maddening calm.
“Do you think there’ll be war?” asked the captain, slowly licking his lips.
“It’s certain,” grunted Grunnarch, cheered by the reminder of the night’s occasion. They were to meet in the hall of Thelgaar Ironhand to plan the season’s campaign.
Laric reached the king’s side, and now Grunnarch paused. The king turned and looked at the scene spread below him and could not help but be pleased.
The masts of hundreds of longships bristled from the waters of Iron Bay. Upon the bleak shoreline, and extending along the valley floor for several miles inland, sprawled the tents, stables, and grounds of a massive military encampment.
Rising above the masts and the tents stood Iron Keep, the bleak and towering fortress of Thelgaar Ironhand, Grunnarch and Laric’s current destination. Tall granite walls stared down upon rocky ground, and many towers climbed from within the forbidding walls. The pennant of Thelgaar, a crimson dragon emblazoned upon a black banner, flew from the highest tower. Fluttering proudly from lower towers were the symbols of other kings of the northmen, kings who were Thelgaar’s guests. The scarlet sword on the banner of Grunnarch the Red, the blue whale of Raag Hammerstaad, and a half dozen banners of lesser kings, all proclaimed an unprecedented gathering of the northmen.
Gray skies glowered over the fortress, and wind lashed at the surface of the harbor, as the kings of the northmen and their chief henchmen prepared for council.
The two northmen climbed the winding stone stairway that led to a gaping doorway in the granite face of the fortress. They created an interesting contrast – men of the same race, yet the king was tall and broad, with a fair complexion and a flowing yellow beard. The captain was short and dark, and walked in a slouch that accentuated his small stature. Yet, should an observer study their eyes, he might come away with the feeling that Laric was by far the more dangerous of the two men. There was something unfeeling, and vaguely inhuman, in his black and emotionless gaze.
“This way, my lords,” smiled a buxom wench as the pair passed from the twilight to the bright torchlight of the keep. The woman, swaying suggestively beneath a colorful frock, led them around a corner and into a vast courtyard. Grunnarch had the feeling that she had been ordered to show off Thelgaar’s might, for she took them on a roundabout route that passed through huge barracks, high ramparts, and thick walls. The Iron Keep was, indeed, impressive.
Finally, the woman showed them into the huge and smoky hall. From the look of the place, the festivities had been going on for some time. The hall was not warm but was brightened by the glow from a huge blaze, laid in a long hearth. The massive fireplace held no less than four tree trunks, sending a hellish glow flickering throughout the chamber. Huge oaken tables, laden with food and drink, lined the room. Hundreds of men sat along the tables, drinking and feasting as the deepening gloom of night settled outside the fortress.
Grunnarch and Laric sat at a long bench, near the men of Raag Hammerstaad. The Red King reached for a massive leg of greasy meat, and tore off a chunk with his teeth, ignoring the juices running through his beard.
“Good to see you,” grunted Raag, wiping a smear of ale from his mustache. “Things will start soon – after our host is properly