The Swords of Corium by B. V. Larson Page B

did not know what the dreams meant, nor if his master would be annoyed. But this last dream might have resulted in his death, so the secret needed to end.
    Marching down the cool, dimly lit halls of Corium, he came at last to the King’s high apartments. Therian dwelt in a suite apart from all the others with his daughter and her various… pets. Among other animals, Nadja had begged her father to allow her favorite pony to live in the suite with them. It was the very pony she had ridden across the ice shelf to Corium. In an odd gesture, which Gruum interpreted as spoiling the girl, Therian had allowed it.
    There were no guards posted at the King’s doors. Unlike most monarchs, Therian felt no need for them. In fact, if guards had been forced to stand watch through the long nights, Gruum thought they would have feared their King more than Therian feared an assassin.
    Gruum tapped at the heavy doors and thought to hear a stirring within. Could that be a hint of horse dung he caught with his nose? Gruum could only imagine the mess the servants were required to clean up each morn. They’d surely seen worse in the past, however, after one of the King’s… experiments .
    The door did not open, so Gruum tapped again. He put his ear to the door, but heard nothing. He shook his head in bewilderment. He should at least be able to hear the stamping of the horse on the tiles. So odd, that Therian would allow his daughter such a frivolity. Could he be a doting father blinded by his love for the girl? It seemed uncharacteristic.
    Finally, there came to his ear a tiny snick as the lock shifted. Gruum put his hand on the handle, and pushed. The door swung open silently.
    He took a single step inside. Seven flickering tapers lit the room. There were no windows, nor lanterns. He took a second step, peering toward the divan. He thought to see movement there.
    There was the King. He sat upon the divan, with one pale arm extended. A figure retreated from the spot beside Therian. It took Gruum a blinking moment to realize it was Nadja. She trotted off into the deepest shadows of the room, disappearing from sight.
    Gruum stepped forward and rubbed his fingers on his belt. He did not let them stray to the hilt of his saber, although that is where they yearned to go. He cleared his throat instead.
    “You have something to say, Gruum?” Therian asked sharply.
    Gruum looked around the room, but Nadja had vanished. It was dark and cold inside the apartments. The rich carpets were stained with unknown substances. Surely, all that liquid could not be the King’s blood…. Gruum thought it was better to pretend he’d noticed nothing odd about Nadja. In his experience, fathers were often overly-protective of their daughters. He thought instead of his original purpose in coming here.
    “I…” Gruum began, not sure how to start his tale of what had happened in the pools. “I went down to the baths, milord. The hot springs in Corium’s bedrock. Something odd happened to me there.”
    “Indeed?” Therian asked, seemingly disinterested. He dabbed at the exposed skin of his arm with a cloth. “Did you perhaps impregnate one of my staff?”
    “I have dreamed with the Dragons on my own, sire.”
    Therian suddenly gave Gruum his full attention. “I had no idea you thought to become a sorcerer in your own right.”
    “Oh no, milord!” Gruum protested.
    Therian laughed at his discomfiture, but his eyes were sharp and intense. “Tell me what she said.”
    “She?”
    “Did you not dream with my dark Lady, Anduin?”
    “No, sire. Each time that I’ve dreamt without you—without meaning to, I assure you—it has been with another. If there were any way I could avoid these dreams I would take a new path in a heartbeat.”
    Therian stared at him. “I can think of an easy way to end these errant dreams of yours.”
    Gruum swallowed. “In my dreams, I’ve met with— him .”
    Therian turned away, and appeared thoughtful. “As I heard the story,