other interests, for you desire what I seek.’
Orlac paused to consider this strange fellow. How uncanny that this man and he should harbour such depth of hate for the same individual…the same Kingdom. He wondered why but then cast that question aside. He really did not care. It was the man’s passion he was impressed by. There was no question this Goth wassincere; his eyes told Orlac this was a man with no remorse, no empathy with others.
‘How can you help me?’ the god asked, curious to hear the fellow’s ideas.
‘In many ways, my lord. I know Tallinor; I know the collective mind of its people and how it works. I know the King and his failings. I know Torkyn Gynt and his companions by sight. I can lead you to those who would support, protect or hide him.’
Goth could have gone on but felt he had said enough. He saw the golden man nodding thoughtfully, considering what he had said.
‘And what do you wish in return for such loyal service?’
‘In return? Why nothing, my great lord. I wish only to serve. Perhaps a nice plot of land on the hills around Cipres. Or you might throw some of the spoils of Tallinor my way. You may even care to give me status, sire, in your new dynasty for Cipres. I presume you will continue to rule here after your needs have been met in Tallinor. You may consider allowing me to rule Tallinor as your proxy?’ Goth was warming to his theme now and even began to strut around, waving his hand for emphasis. ‘From the ruins of Tallinor we can build a new Kingdom, my lord. Your Kingdom, which you can adjoin with Cipres. I will run it for you. And why indeed stop at Tallinor? With your powers and my knowledge of the region, we can acquire other realms.’
Orlac chuckled at Goth’s grand plan. ‘Is there anything else you may want?’
Goth became still. ‘Yes, sire. I wish to be present at the killing of Torkyn Gynt but I ask that first he watchhis beloved Alyssa be disembowelled, beheaded and quartered. And I wish to be her executioner. I want to look in her eyes and be the last person she sees when the light dies in them, my lord.’
It seemed to Orlac that this man thought along similar lines as Dorgryl. His uncle had already suggested they track down and destroy every family member and friend to Gynt. It would keep him wary and defensive, Dorgryl had counselled, and never in a position to attack. Orlac had seen the sense in this and now here was this strange fellow suggesting a similar plan. Perhaps he could be of some use.
Goth pushed his advantage. ‘Sire, in order to help you, first I must know your plan for Cipres.’
‘Plan? Simply to rule.’
‘How?’
‘What do you mean how, Goth? You heard me tell that creaky old man that we would rule through a woman and at least honour their way.’
‘So you will rule through Princess Sarel?’ Goth asked, trying to understand and knowing he was risking the wrath of the powerful man in front of him.
It was Orlac’s turn to look puzzled. ‘I have no specific woman in mind yet.’
Goth pushed on nervously. ‘So you may kill the Queen and install another?’
‘There is no Queen, Goth. You irritate me now. You killed her, remember?’
Goth believed he could feel his own blood chill. ‘No, my lord,’ he said carefully. ‘I killed Queen Sylven. I am talking about the Princess…the soon to be crowned Queen Sarel.’
Orlac sat upright and regarded Goth—he had been taken by surprise and was unsure what to make of this news.
Dorgryl, who had been listening carefully to this exchange, broke his own silence. She must be found and killed. She is too dangerous.
Why killed? Orlac asked, deep down knowing the answer.
As long as there is an heir, the people will not rest. There will always be those—many in fact—who will want their rightful Queen on the throne. And whilst you’re off wreaking havoc on Tallinor, you don’t want an uprising here. Waste no time, Dorgryl growled.
For all the young god’s immense powers,
Orlac paused to consider this strange fellow. How uncanny that this man and he should harbour such depth of hate for the same individual…the same Kingdom. He wondered why but then cast that question aside. He really did not care. It was the man’s passion he was impressed by. There was no question this Goth wassincere; his eyes told Orlac this was a man with no remorse, no empathy with others.
‘How can you help me?’ the god asked, curious to hear the fellow’s ideas.
‘In many ways, my lord. I know Tallinor; I know the collective mind of its people and how it works. I know the King and his failings. I know Torkyn Gynt and his companions by sight. I can lead you to those who would support, protect or hide him.’
Goth could have gone on but felt he had said enough. He saw the golden man nodding thoughtfully, considering what he had said.
‘And what do you wish in return for such loyal service?’
‘In return? Why nothing, my great lord. I wish only to serve. Perhaps a nice plot of land on the hills around Cipres. Or you might throw some of the spoils of Tallinor my way. You may even care to give me status, sire, in your new dynasty for Cipres. I presume you will continue to rule here after your needs have been met in Tallinor. You may consider allowing me to rule Tallinor as your proxy?’ Goth was warming to his theme now and even began to strut around, waving his hand for emphasis. ‘From the ruins of Tallinor we can build a new Kingdom, my lord. Your Kingdom, which you can adjoin with Cipres. I will run it for you. And why indeed stop at Tallinor? With your powers and my knowledge of the region, we can acquire other realms.’
Orlac chuckled at Goth’s grand plan. ‘Is there anything else you may want?’
Goth became still. ‘Yes, sire. I wish to be present at the killing of Torkyn Gynt but I ask that first he watchhis beloved Alyssa be disembowelled, beheaded and quartered. And I wish to be her executioner. I want to look in her eyes and be the last person she sees when the light dies in them, my lord.’
It seemed to Orlac that this man thought along similar lines as Dorgryl. His uncle had already suggested they track down and destroy every family member and friend to Gynt. It would keep him wary and defensive, Dorgryl had counselled, and never in a position to attack. Orlac had seen the sense in this and now here was this strange fellow suggesting a similar plan. Perhaps he could be of some use.
Goth pushed his advantage. ‘Sire, in order to help you, first I must know your plan for Cipres.’
‘Plan? Simply to rule.’
‘How?’
‘What do you mean how, Goth? You heard me tell that creaky old man that we would rule through a woman and at least honour their way.’
‘So you will rule through Princess Sarel?’ Goth asked, trying to understand and knowing he was risking the wrath of the powerful man in front of him.
It was Orlac’s turn to look puzzled. ‘I have no specific woman in mind yet.’
Goth pushed on nervously. ‘So you may kill the Queen and install another?’
‘There is no Queen, Goth. You irritate me now. You killed her, remember?’
Goth believed he could feel his own blood chill. ‘No, my lord,’ he said carefully. ‘I killed Queen Sylven. I am talking about the Princess…the soon to be crowned Queen Sarel.’
Orlac sat upright and regarded Goth—he had been taken by surprise and was unsure what to make of this news.
Dorgryl, who had been listening carefully to this exchange, broke his own silence. She must be found and killed. She is too dangerous.
Why killed? Orlac asked, deep down knowing the answer.
As long as there is an heir, the people will not rest. There will always be those—many in fact—who will want their rightful Queen on the throne. And whilst you’re off wreaking havoc on Tallinor, you don’t want an uprising here. Waste no time, Dorgryl growled.
For all the young god’s immense powers,
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