The Emerald Throne Read online

  “So, do you have a name?” He asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Can I know it?”

  “No.”

  "Why not?” Brennus had a mocking look of concern etched on his face.

  “Because I don't like you,” she replied matter of factually.

  “But you know my name. I only think its fair that I know yours.”

  “Only because your former employer blurted it out. Besides, if we don't speak to one another then you'll have no need of my name will you?”

  “That hardly seems fair. I saved your arses back there, even if you won't admit it. So what am I to call you. Fair maiden with the lovely eyes?” He exclaimed mockingly.

  “I think not.”

  Brennus raised one arm up to the sky and blurted out, “ Fair maiden with the lovely eyes who does blacken mine eye with thou fists!” Anyone looking from a far would have thought him a drunk.

  Owen turned his head around and looked from Brennus to Eleanor.

  “Eleanor, is he bothering you?” He asked as he turned his horse to trot back to where Eleanor and Brennus where riding.

  “Eleanor is it?” Brennus said in surprise, “What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

  “Thank you Owen,” Eleanor replied to Owen in a sarcastic tone before turning to face Brennus.

  “Do you always try this rubbish with the ladies you meet Brennus?” Eleanor asked in exasperation.

  “Yes. Is it working?”

  “No, and it won't so stop it.”

  Owen fell in just in front of Eleanor and turned to look at Brennus.

  “Hey scum bag. Why don't you leave the lady alone?” He said menacingly.

  “I wouldn't go threatening people like that kid. I saw how you handled Bors,” Brennus said with a mock expression to Owen.

  “Really, and how did you end up with that lovely shiner Brennus?” Owen replied.

  Eleanor decided she needed to change the conversation before the testosterone in the air rose and there was a punch up. She suspected Owen would be much worse off.

  “Where did you learn to use a sword Owen?” She asked.

  “Well you know me. Arthurian legend enthusiast. I just had to learn how to fight,” Owen raised his head in a slightly smug expression.

  “Well, wherever you learnt kid, I'm going to have to teach both you and the lovely Eleanor here how to fight properly if you're going to survive the trip to Rogard. There's bandits all over these woods. Especially the great Road. It's easy pickings,” Brennus replied whilst winking.

  Eleanor sighed and whispered in a mocking tone. “OH this is going to be fun.”

  The journey through the great Elven forest lasted another two days. They would camp just off the main road at night, and take turns keeping watch. Brennus insisted scouting the area before they set up camp to check for any traps or nearby bandit hideouts. Once camp had been set up, Astel would place a protection circle around the area to give them plenty of warning if anything were to approach be it wolf or man.

  Eleanor was getting better at setting up the camp, and had quickly learnt how to start a fire with guidance from Owen. She was amused by how quickly when their environment changed, that the student could suddenly become the teacher. Eleanor knew that a keen mind could only get her so far, and that she still had a long way to go.

  On the second night, after camp had been set up and a supper of rabbit broth had been eaten, Brennus decided it was time to begin Eleanor and Owen's weapon training.

  “We'll practice within the boundaries of Astel's protection and we'll be using these to start with,” Brennus announced before bending down and picking up several thick sticks.

  “Sticks? I ran a guy through with his own sword and you want me to practice with sticks,” Owen protested.

  “I'd rather you practice with these than run me through. Never mind the risk to both yourself and the lovely ladies here if you make a mistake.”

  Owen shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to look weak, before quickly standing up and snatching the stick from Brennus' out stretched hand.

  “Ok, sticks it is,” he agreed.

  “Lady Astel, would you care to join us in our lessons?” Brennus asked whilst offering his hand in a gentlemanly way.

  “No thank you Brennus, but I shall watch their progress as you go,” Astel replied. She picked up the remaining bowls before sitting herself on a make shift log they'd discovered earlier.

  Both Brennus and Owen walked to the left of the tents and positioned themselves a metre or so apart before raising their sticks. Brennus held his in one hand and looked both comfortable and confident. Owen on the other hand, was holding the stick with both hands and looked obviously uncomfortable and out of practice.

  “Ok. Show me what you've got,” Brennus commanded.

  Owen ran at Brennus bringing the stick around the side of his shoulder like a baseball bat, but Brennus easily moved out of the way and hit Owen square in the back. Owen ground to a halt and turned to face his opponent in frustration. “Your sword is an extension of your arm, not a club. Loosen yourself up and try again. Brennus instructed.

  This time Owen tried the one handed approach and lunged at Brennus with his arms raised. Owen blocked the first blow from Brennus, but then reached too far to the left and was hit in the side by Brennus' stick.

  “Don't be over confident kid,” Brennus said whilst throwing the stick in mid air and catching it.

  “I'm not a kid Brennus. I'm nineteen years old for god sake,” Owen replied in retaliation.

  “My apologies kid. Right, you're turn Eleanor,” Brennus replied.

  Eleanor reluctantly stood up and walked over to where the men were. Owen gave Eleanor his stick before walking over to sit next to Astel muttering to himself as he went.

  Brennus positioned himself again about a metre away before gesturing her to come at him. Eleanor quickly decided that her best tactic to beating Brennus was not to come at him directly as he was clearly more skilled than her, but to wait for him to come to her and catch him off guard.

  When she didn't move, Brennus swung his stick to the right and came at her, but she moved her arm quickly to counter his blow. He then swung across from the left, but again she countered his blow.

  “Smart girl,” he exclaimed whilst shifting slightly trying to figure out his next move. Strike after strike was deflected by Eleanor as she watched Brennus at work. There was a battle of wills going on which was evenly matched, although Eleanor knew she would have to strike eventually if she was going gain any ground. Just as Brennus was considering his next move, Eleanor raced at him with her stick straight ahead. Brennus acted quickly and whacked the stick out the way, knocking it out of Eleanor's hand. Before she knew what was happening, he'd grabbed her from behind and had his arm around her neck.

  “You may have a good defense, but you lack offense,” Brennus whispered in her ear. Eleanor grabbed his arm and used all of her bodies strength to roll him over her shoulder and onto the floor. She knew her self defense classes would eventually pay off.

  For a moment he stared up at her in disbelief and she thought he was going to lash out at her, but then his face split into a grin as he said, “you never cease to amaze me Eleanor.”

  Owen and Astel were clapping in the background and Owen had a huge smile on his face. Brennus leapt to his feet and gave a mocking brow to his captive audience.

  "You may have won this battle Eleanor, but if this was bandits, that hesitation would have killed you. We need to keep working on this for both of you,” Brennus announced.

  "Fair enough,” Eleanor replied, “tell me Brennus, what exactly did you do to end up with a bounty on your head?"

  "There was a misunderstanding with a ship merchant and his daughter; nothing more,” replied Brennus.

  “As I recall", Astel announced from the corner of the camp fire, "you slept with the merchants daughter who was betrothed to another, and then leaped out of her bedroom window with a considerable amount of
the merchants capital."

  "It was a few coins is all, and the lady, she came at me. I was completely innocent,” Brennus tried to justify with a smirk.

  "It was the equivalent of 2000 gold pieces Brennus,” Astel corrected.

  "Yeah but I had to escape in the noddy. I reckon that's fair compensation if you ask me."

  "Try telling that to the daughter you deflowered,” Astel declared in matter of fact tone.

  "And you want him to be our guide to Rogard?" Eleanor asked Astel in disbelief.

  "Yes, despite his questionable personality traits, he's an excellent guide, or so I'm told,” Astel responded.

  Eleanor rubbed her hands over her eyes in exhaustion."We’re all doomed."

  Chapter 11

  Vincent walked down the cold dimly lit corridor that lead to Prince Elian's Cell. He'd spent most of the day resting in a nearby room before conferring with his vial Lord Balor. Balor was keen to meet the Prince, and had decided to travel to King Sleugh’s pit of despair the following evening. In the mean time, Vincent was to visit Elian again and ensure that the Goblins had kept their end of the bargain by leaving Prince Elian mostly unscathed.

  Vincent hated cohabiting with these disgusting creatures. They cared for nothing but greed and stank to high heaven, not to mention their numbers over crowed their poorly dug out layer. They reminded Vincent of an infestation of rats that had been allowed to grow in population for too long, but Balor needed numbers for his army and the Goblins provided just that, meaning that Vincent had resided whether he liked it or not, to endure a few more days in this stinking cesspit of a hole.

  As he turned the final corner of the corridor that contained Elian's cell, he had to take a deep breath before he entered. He'd expected the Prince to be a stuck up pompous little brat like the Prince Edward of his day had been nearly five centuries ago, but this Prince was noble and sincere. The emotion Elian had carried in his eyes the previous night had unnerved Vincent, and awoken something within him he'd not felt for a very long time. Humanity.

  The two Goblins that were guarding the door, saw Vincent emerging from the dark and quickly moved out the way. The door was swung open, and Vincent entered the cell. What met his eyes tore at what remained of his soul.

  The Prince was slumped in the corner the room, his lips dry and his eyes dazed. He was exhausted and clearly dehydrated. Vincent swore under his breath before picking up the cup of water that had deliberately been left just beyond the Princes reach. Those slimy mongrels would pay for this later. He walked over to Elian and crouched down holding the water out to him.

  “You need to Drink,” he commanded, but Elian didn't move. He just raised his eyes and starred at Vincent. There saw a determination in the Princes' eyes that shocked him to his core.

  “Elian, you need to drink this or you will die,” he commanded again but there was no response. Vincent lost his temper and rammed the cup into Elian mouth whilst holding the Princes head back with the other hand. The Prince began to choke and struggle, but instinct quickly took over and he soon downed the water.

  “There was that so hard?” He asked whilst sitting cross legged in front of Elian.

  Elian threw the cup across the room without breaking eye contact. “Why do you care so much demon?” Elian replied in a raspy voice.

  “You know why. We discussed this yesterday. You’re no good to us dead.”

  “Oh, right. Balor wants me to be his slave. A great incentive to stay alive. Well that's not going to happen and you should know that,” Elian spat out.

  “Completely understood Prince, but you're wrong about that,” Vincent replied whilst smirking.

  “You're sat terribly close to me Dearg. Aren't you afraid I might attack you?” Elian quizzed. Vincent could see Elian eyeing up his chances.

  “Not particularly. You're in a weakened state and you're mortal. I could snap your neck before you lifted a finger if needs be.”

  Elian sat back defeated slightly but he still had hope in his eyes. “But you're not are you, Because I'm guessing your master wouldn't like that very much.” Elian had a smug look on his face. Even if he could win a small battle, he could still cling to hope.

  "You're not as I imagined you to be Prince,” Vincent said.

  “And what did you expect? A crown and ego to match?”

  “No. When I was human, Prince Edward was a pompous, egotistical, bastard who cared little for his people and more for his women and wealth. But you're nothing like him.”

  “I'm sorry to be a disappointment,” Elian replied shifting slightly. The chains round his wrists rattled as he did.

  “You're not a disappointment. You seem like a great man. You would have made a good King,” Vincent stood up and began to pace round the room.

  There was that humanity in him burning through the darkness. He'd spent the best part of five hundred years trying to close that part of him off. After all, there was no place for empathy and sentimentality in his world. You either killed or be killed.

  “You remind me of myself when I was human,” Vincent stated. “Tell me. Is there anyone in your life you consider special? A woman perhaps?”

  "Why do you care?”

  “When I made the deal with Balor and he came for me, the pain was unimaginable. He attacked both my mind and body, humiliating me and braking my spirit. Afterwards, I was just a shell of my former self. The only thing that kept my humanity alive was the memory of my beloved Laura. When he comes for you, think of them. It will help you keep a part of yourself whole.”

  “Did you ever go and see Laura. Afterwards?” Elian asked.

  “For a while. I would sneak into the village in the dead of night and watch her from her window. She seemed sad at first, but as the years went on she became happier, but then Balor learnt what I was doing. He was furious.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He forced me to drain her dry. I killed her and in so doing, killed that small part of myself as well.” Vincent looked away. The sound of Laura's screams echoing in his mind, filling him with sorrow.

  “Wow, that’s awful. I'm sorry for what happened to you, but if you feel so strongly about this, how could you let the same thing happen to me. If I fall, not just one person dies Vincent. The whole kingdom of Rogardium will perish with me. You were human once. Do you truly want that for mankind?”

  “It matters not what I want Prince. Balor commands me to do something, so I must do it.”

  Elian hauled himself to his feet and raced forwards. Looking Vincent straight in the eyes. There was anger and determination in the Prince's face. “There is always a choice. So you made a bad decision in the past, that doesn't mean you have to make a bad decision this time. Find your humanity again and free me. Do the right thing for your people. For Rogardium!”

  Vincent found his temper and launched himself at the Prince. His eyes glowed and his fangs became visible. “Do not tell me what I can or can not do mortal. I am here solely to ensure your safety until my master arrives. Nothing more. If I had it my way, you'd be dead and I'd be out of this stinking hole. As it is, I am here. Stuck with you until tomorrow evening.” Vincent was pacing the room with vigor. The veins around his eyes pulsated with rage, and his eyes glowed with the depth of fire.

  Vincent knew if he didn't get control of himself quickly, the Prince would be dead and he would pay dearly for that treachery.

  Elian either didn't notice the danger he was in, or didn't care for he kept up his protests relentlessly. Vincent’s head began to buzz with the torment of the two halves of him were inflicting. His humanity and the monster were head on. Before Vincent realized his actions, he slammed Elian against the far wall and sank his fangs deep into the Prince’s neck.

  Elian screamed in agony and terror, and began to flail desperately for his life. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, Vincent pulled away realizing the horror of what he'd done. He bit into his wrist and rammed it into Elian's mouth. The Prince could not die and Vincent knew it. His
blood would bring the Prince back from the brink.

  Elian took great mouthfuls without protest, before relaxing in a heap on the floor. Vincent bent casually down and pushed his shirt sleeve back into place. Resuming his composed demeanor.

  “Lets keep this little incident between you and I Prince. I've just given you a wonderful gift. With your blood in my veins, I'll always find you and know if you’re in need of help. Who knows. It may come in handy one day. For the time being, try not to get yourself killed.”

  Vincent quickly stood up from the now unconscious Prince and marched back to the cell door whilst smoothing his hair down. As the door opened and the Goblins guard peered in, Vincent placed a hand on the Goblins shoulders. “You and I need to have a little chat about the state of the Prince, and I'm feeling rather peckish for Goblins.”

  Chapter 12

  Their journey to Rogard had remained relatively peaceful. There had been no more bandit attacks or wolves to be seen in the woods, and after a further day under the cover of the great forests canopy they'd finally hit the Farmlands; a blanket of neatly kept fields that stretched as far as the eye could see for miles around.

  They would occasionally meet travels going about their business on the great road, but everyone they had encountered had kept to themselves, passing nothing but polite conversation as they went on their way. Whatever evils Astel had mentioned were happening in the north of Rogardium didn't seem to touch the lives of the people they past. They continued planting and harvesting their land without a care in the world.

  "Everything seems so peaceful,” Owen commented one crisp afternoon a day after the company had left the great Elven forest.

  "It always is in the countryside’s around Rogard,” Astel replied. "people concern themselves with the passing of the seasons and earth."

  "But surely with the raids happening in the north, that will have had some impact on life here. The news must have filtered down,” Eleanor responded.

  "The King has banned anyone in the castle from discussing what is happening in the North as to not raise panic. Still, the refugees are arriving in great swathes around Rogard, and word will have gotten out. Sometimes carrying on with what you know is the best way a person can deal with the unknown."