Obsidian Ridge - Jess Lebow [30]
"You make me sound so glorious for having sent an entire unit of men to their deaths."
Senator Divian placed her hand on his leg. "It was not your actions that struck those men dead. And that may not be the only hard decision you have to make in the coming days."
The king scratched his head. "But you were against the decision to send men out there in the first place."
The senator shook her head. "That's not true. At the time, we did not know what we were dealing with or what that thing wanted."
"We still don't," reminded the king.
"No," she conceded, "but I think there is little doubt that whatever it wants, it means to do us some harm if it doesn't get it. And for what it's worth, I think you did the right thing-for Erlkazar."
The king took in a deep breath and nodded. He sat in silence, the senator at his side, mulling over the choices he'd made and would have to make.
Whitman's voice broke his quiet contemplation.
"My lord!" The scribe's boots made a loud clopping sound across the marble floor. "My lord, there appears to be a message for you outside the palace gates."
"A message? From whom?"
Whitman stopped in front of the throne. "From… from that thing-the ruler of the Obsidian Ridge."
The king leaped to his feet. "Why was it not brought to me?
"Uh…" Whitman fumbled for a moment. "My lord, it's… it's-"
"It's what, Whitman? I don't have time for your mumbling. Spit it out."
"The message is inscribed on a giant slab of stone. It cannot be moved."
The king looked at the senator, questioning her with his eyes. She shrugged, just as confused as he.
"You say it's at the palace gates." The king made a move for the door, his bodyguard Quinn right behind him, Senator Divian a close second.
Whitman followed. "Yes, my lord."
Down the steps into the great hall, the king collected followers like rats to a piper. They fell into step behind, wondering, he assumed, what the message from the Obsidian Ridge would bring to light.
Outside of the keep, a crowd of servants and court functionaries were already gathered. Though the drawbridge was down, and the heavy wooden doors were open, the portcullis that protected the gateway was shut-a sign that not all was well in Erlkazar.
"Step aside!" shouted Whitman. "Make way for King Korox!"
The crowd, previously too preoccupied with the sight before them, now turned and parted. They bowed their heads, many dropping to one knee before the king.
Korox looked at each one of them as he passed, nodding his acknowledgment. He knew these people, some better than others, but he knew them. He had grown up with many of them, and had seen them have many emotions. He had watched them celebrate the new harvest, cry over the death of close friends, rejoice at the birth of a new child. But as he looked upon them now, he saw something new-he saw fear. He knew how they felt. And though it was comforting to know that he was not the only one afraid of the floating black citadel, he also knew that these people were looking to him to bring them safely through this time of uncertainty.
Reaching the portcullis, Korox gazed out between its rough iron bars at a huge black obelisk. Carved completely out of obsidian, the enormous stone stood three times the height of a man, and it rested now just on the other side of the drawbridge. Words, written in Common, were inscribed on its surface, but from where he stood, the king couldn't make out what they said.
Korox turned to the nearest palace guard. "How did this get here?"
The guard fumbled for the words. "It just… just… did, my lord."
"What do you mean, 'it just did?' It's a huge stone obelisk. Did it drop from the sky?"
The guard shook his head. "No, my lord. One moment, it wasn't there. Then as the sun rose over Shalane Lake, it… it just was."
"And you saw no one? No creatures, no soldiers, no wizards, no one appeared with it?"
"No, my king," replied the guard. "Only the obelisk."
The king nodded. "Well then, raise the portcullis," he ordered. "I want to get a better look."
The order echoed over the heads of the people,