Read Dark Fate: The Gathering (The Dark Fate Chronicles Book 1) Online

Authors: Matt Howerter,Jon Reinke

Tags: #Magic, #dwarf, #Fantasy, #shapeshifter, #elf, #sorcery, #vampire, #Dark fantasy, #epic fantasy, #sword

Dark Fate: The Gathering (The Dark Fate Chronicles Book 1) (38 page)

Their group waited at the front gate, where Lady Barrelon and several of the other Basinian emissaries joined Rouke, who had been debating with a man dressed in enameled green armor.

Sloane was too far away to hear the noblewoman’s calm voice, but suddenly, the Basinian guardsmen exploded into motion. Two young men set off at a dead sprint to the city that waited across the water. The remaining fifteen or so guards poured from the forecastle and snapped to attention behind their officer, who approached the princess and her Pelosian company with a dignified stride.

The man stopped before her and placed one hand on his chest before inclining his head with deference. “Princess Sloane, ’tis an honor indeed to be the first to welcome you to our city.”

Sloane nodded her head in gracious acceptance of his welcome.

He straightened only briefly before bowing again toward the remainder of her party. “Welcome to Waterfall Citadel. Enter in peace.”

The blended company of Sloane, Bale, and the Basinian emissaries passed by Rouke and the officer, who sat to one side, staring at the guards who maintained their rigid posture until the last of the dignitaries had passed.

Water rushed below the arches of the bridge as they entered the city. Bells rang and horns blew. The sound echoed throughout the basin, blending with the ever-present roar of water. Waves of green- and gold-clad people, speckled here and there by the varied colors of the common people, began to flood out of the city to watch their approach. Cheers lifted as Sloane rode amongst them, and the winding streets before them were hastily cleared by yet more soldiers dressed in green and gold.

Sloane waved at the cheering people as they approached the sprawling steps of Terrandal.

Yet another throng of people stood in the square before the castle, awaiting her arrival. Many servants wearing the same elaborate greens and golds waited at the top of the stairs.

Sloane’s mouth was suddenly dry. She had been so distracted by Sacha’s abduction that she had forgotten she was to meet the man with whom she would spend the rest of her life.
No small thing to forget
, she thought.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as she feared. After all, Kinsey had said the prince was a man whocared for his people and he wasn’t bad-looking “for a human.” She snorted under her breath.
What a fool I am
.
Worrying about a man’s looks when Sacha is still lost
.

Brass horns sounded once Sloane and her group dismounted. A clamoring group of nobility and statesmen came down the steps in a rush to greet her and her entourage. Bale stood close by with his eyes darting every which way in search of a potential attack. One hand hovered near the hilt of his sword.

She straightened to her full height and smiled at the crowd, even though she felt no pleasure or mirth. They had come to see a princess and she would give them one. She acknowledged those closest to her with a slight nod of the head as Lady Barrelon led her through the gauntlet and up the short, wide steps to the palace.
May this go quickly
, she thought.

When Sloane’s foot touched the upper landing, the horns blared again. Silence fell amongst the gathered crowd and the doors to the palace creaked open in response to the deep harmony.

Sloane was Pelosian, and perhaps should have been immune to feeling awed by the scale of things—but these doors were massive. The hinges alone must have been two hundred pounds of forged metal each. The doors themselves were easily three times the height of a man and an arm’s length in thickness. Each of the wooden monoliths was wide enough to accommodate a wagon. Solid wooden wheels, hidden within each door, helped bear the weight that no hinge alone could sustain. Shallow grooves, lined with metal, had been cut into the floor to keep the wheels in place as they rolled.

Amazing as these features were, the true beauty of the portal lay in the masterful relief that had been carved into the surface of each bulwark. The two doors together contained a scene depicting humans and elves under the great tree Terrandal—both species working together to build the island city. The carvings were so realistic, Sloane could imagine them stepping off the doors to greet her as the nobility had done. She knew in her heart that the craftsmanship was the handwork of the elves, much as the bulk of her mountain home was a testament to the skill of the dwarves.

Once the doors opened to their fullest, she could see lines of guards, decorated again in emerald and gold, stretching the length of a great hallway. A smaller group of people was centered between the lines of men. Six individuals moved forward in unison and more than a dozen servants fell into place behind them.

Lady Barrelon stepped up next to Sloane and whispered, “The armored men are knights of the Citadel.” The men she described were on either side of the half-dozen people approaching and wore full suits of plate armor that clattered as they walked. The lacquer used to color each suit was a deep forest green and decorated with intricate floral designs of embossed gold.

“The pair walking just inside the knights are Lord Farin Tyler, General of the Citadel, and Lord Banlor Graves, Head Minister of Trade,” continued Lady Barrelon.

Sloane recognized the name of Banlor Graves. He had come to Stone Mountain for trade years ago but he hadn’t been a lord back then and looked much older now.

The two wore matching attire, robes of emerald silk that shimmered as they walked. Rectangular layers of cloth lay across their shoulders, draping down the front to mid-torso and all the way to the floor in the back. Each layer was covered in the same decorative patterns of gold as the honor guards beside them. A shield of emerald and gold emblazoned the breast of the general, while a balance with what appeared to be sheaves of wheat graced the chest of Lord Graves.

In the center walked a couple, a man and a woman that could only be her prince and his mother, the queen. The pair wore matching cloaks made of feathers from the colorful native birds found close to the banks of the Tanglevine river. A single giant eagle feather, easily eight feet in length, trailed behind each cloak. The woman appeared to be quite a few years older than Sloane’s mother but portrayed little frailty on her thin frame. Her eyes were a rich jade with light flecks of amber that shone brightly enough in the day’s light for Sloane to see, even from a distance. A crown filled with emeralds and fire rubies held back thick, pale golden locks of hair that fell to her waist.

In contrast to his mother, the man was young, not much older than Sloane herself. His dark hair was held back from his temples by a simple circlet of woven silver branches. The prince’s features were chiseled perfection, and his body was masculine, but not overly so. He held himself with quiet poise as he approached.

For a human?
she thought, incredulous. When their eyes met, Sloane could feel her cheeks grow warm. She blinked and looked away. Her thoughts rushed wildly.
Please, Eos, do not allow me to embarrass myself
.

“Queen Rhian and her son, Prince Alexander,” Lady Barrelon finished, then stepped back and bowed as the royal family came to a stop before them. The crowd standing behind knelt as well, the sound of their ruffled clothing echoed softly against the palace walls.

Sloane gave a slight bow, showing respect but not weakness. “I am honored to be received. I bring the greetings and wish of peace from my father—my king—and my people.”

“And we are honored to receive you,” Queen Rhian replied. “Welcome to Waterfall Citadel.” She stepped forward and threw her arms wide, catching Sloane in a warm and firm embrace.

Sloane was stunned. Her father’s court had not prepared her for such a gesture. Nothing could have prepared her.

The people cheered as though nothing was amiss.

Sloane desperately tried to reestablish her equilibrium. She found her arms trapped at her sides by the older woman’s hug. She was a head taller than the queen, so the points of the crown hovered just in front of her nose. She twisted slightly, attempting to raise her own arms in reciprocation of the gesture, but the other woman’s embrace remained too firm.

A muffled snicker made its way to Sloane’s ear over the receding cheers.

She was shocked to discover her prince smiling and covering his mouth with one hand.

Catching Sloane’s wide-eyed expression, Prince Alexander coughed loudly and thumped his chest, but the smile remained on his face.

Sloane almost laughed herself but managed to maintain her calm.

The queen released her suffocating embrace and smiled up at her. “Now, the two of you take hands.” She waved her son forward impatiently. Alexander moved up gracefully to stand beside Sloane.

She was pleased to see they stood almost eye to eye, with him being just a touch taller. She had not realized until this moment that she harbored a secret fear that he would be as short as Kinsey.

Alexander’s touch as he took her hand was warm and strong. The smile on his lips warmed his eyes and softened every line of his face. She felt heat in her cheeks again and looked away.
Gods, I’m such a fool
.

Queen Rhian pulled a velvety green ribbon from a tiny pouch that hung from her belt. She wrapped their hands together and tied the ribbon in a loose knot. “As our tradition dictates,” she announced in what Sloane was beginning to assume was her usual brisk fashion, “these two who are promised shall come together as one.” The queen took hold of their bound hands. Her voice raised in pitch. “This bond represents the joining of their lives, their souls, and their love. May both our kingdoms thrive and prosper under their union!”

The crowd applauded in approval and the queen waited until the thunder subsided, then leaned toward the young couple and said in a much lower tone, “Let us go inside, so that we may get to know our new family.” She turned and walked back into the great hall at a far quicker pace than she had come out. Alexander and Sloane followed. Green-clad men and women appeared around the Pelosians, whisking the soldiers and her cousins along to be consumed in the crowd.

Sloane caught the barest glance of Bale, who wore a look of profound consternation as a young blonde woman almost half his height led him in her wake. She turned her attention back to the prince. “How long are we to remain...”—she gestured to the ribbon—“like this?”

“Until nightfall. I’m Alexander, by the way.”

She looked at him plainly. “I know who you are.”

“Ah, of course.” He frowned and fell silent.

“I am sorry,” she said, quickly. “I didn’t mean to be so curt.” She felt a fool; he was probably just trying to be courteous. “I’ve been under quite a bit of stress.” She smiled lamely.

“No, it’s fine. I understand, we’ve never met before and are expected to become man and wife. King and queen.” He chuckled. “That sounds kind of strange when I say it aloud.”

Sloane was beginning to realize Alexander might be as nervous about this marriage as she was. She smiled in earnest this time. “Yes, it does.”

“I must apologize for my father’s absence. He is deathly ill, but I suppose you already knew this as well,” replied Alexander.

“I did. I’m sorry for his hardship, and yours.”

He returned her smile. “Thank you.”

They trailed behind the queen, who spoke largely to the air around her. The four men who had comprised the official welcome walked closely behind. Soldiers and servants lined the hall in two quiet rows. The soldiers held their heads aloft, their expressions stoic. The servants, however, were alight with happiness. Young pages of both genders shuffled from one foot to the other, attempting to maintain the dignity of the occasion, but unable to restrain themselves beyond holding their tongues.

Alexander inclined his head slightly and whispered to her as they walked. “Your journey here was a pleasant one, I hope?”

Sloane looked sharply at her husband-to-be, who continued to walk in a measured pace.
Of course, he wouldn’t know
. She schooled her face back into a calm and pleasant expression. She moved her mouth as little as she could when she replied, “Events of which you may not be aware have taken place, and they must be discussed most urgently.” Sloane glanced at Alexander’s face; he was concentrating on her words. “I must meet with those who are handling your father’s affairs, immediately.”

Perplexity briefly creased Alexander’s brow . He smoothed away the furrows and smiled for the crowd as he spoke to her. “I have handled my father’s affairs for the past two years, so whatever events you need speak of, you may speak of them to me.”

Eos, take my stumbling words!
she thought, abashed anew. “My apologies, again. I just assumed...” She wondered how many times would she make a fool of herself before the day was out.
Off to a splendid start
, she thought.
Best just get to the point and save yourself looking the idiot as well
. “Can we speak somewhere privately?”

“Of course.” Alexander stopped walking and called out, “Mother.”

The queen’s bustling stride ceased immediately and she turned gracefully to regard the pair. “Yes, my son?”

Alexander laid his free hand over their bound wrists and smiled at his mother. “Sloane is weary from her travel, and as you know, they did not take the traditional time to rest and prepare before entering our home.”

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