The Sword and The Mountain (Kathardra book 1)

“The Luminar province dropped thirty percent taxation revenue this quarter. The report states that they dropped twenty-three percent of harvestable crops, and their shepherds were unable to push to adequate grazing pastures because the accumulation of snowfall last winter led to avalanches that wiped out the trails to the commonly used pastures.”

The woman giving the report had long white hair, that swooped along her back with a single thin braid just above her left ear. Her hooked nose has a very large mole just above her left nostril. Golathar stared at the mole in distaste. It had a single dark hair growing out of it.

How could she still have dark hair on her face but all the hair atop her head was white as marble?

He considered having her remove the offending mark. Maybe Solveiga could remove it in the night. None would be the wiser and he’d not have to stare at the disgusting blemish anymore.

Or he could have her removed. The old bird was certainly old enough to have her retire. And if she put up too much resistance Golathar could have her quietly killed. She was certainly old enough that that wouldn’t raise any suspicions either.

“Sire. there is one last matter.” Now it was his chief minister speaking. He was more tolerable. There were no ridiculous disfigurements on his face. And he was not obscenely aged.

The room went rigid, and all twelve members of the council became uncomfortable in accord. They clearly all knew what was coming, they had discussed it beforehand.

They are holding council behind my back.

The thought grated.

He made sure to keep his voice calm. Tight, Controlled.

“What?”

Again, as if in unison they shifted slightly. Magda’s hands went from the table to her lap. Aberin scratched his face.

“What?” Golathar was less successful in keeping his voice controlled.

Eyes shifted around the room, each set studiously looking away from him. Until Frazin spoke.

“A dragon was seen in southern Kathardra.” The words hung in the air. Frazin's eyes peaked at Golathar and looked away just as fast.

“Why is this significant enough to make all of my council members wet themselves?” His slow blink depicted just how far his patience was waning.

“Sire,” Drusbane spoke up now. “The prophecy…”

Golathar’s eyes widened as he looked around the entire group. “A single dragon was seen on the southern border and you are all twisted up so tight you cannot find the air to speak?”

He stood from the council table.

Scraping filled the hall as each of them rushed to stand in his presence.

“Sire the taxes-”

He cut off Magda before she could launch into another long diatribe. “Figure it out, Magda. Taxes are due, back payment will be required if they aren’t met.”

He swept from the hall, his black-clad guards rushed to fall in behind him.

“Send Solveiga to my chambers.” The command fell from his lips without even looking at the page who stood just outside the hall.

Golathar strode through the halls, capes billowing out behind him. He could not believe the council was at all distressed about this dragon sighting. It was true that no dragon had crossed into Kathardra for years, however, it was not so uncommon that this one should stand out.

He rounded the corner toward his suite, the sentries rushed to swing the doors open, succeeding in opening them before he had to break stride.

At once Golathar moved to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of amber liquid.

He stood before the picture window and glared out over the landscape. The wall bordered his view far out, filling the space between him and the wall were fields and groves.

The pastures were sallow, producing grass that was thin and yellow, unlikely to grant nourishment to any creature. The orchards produced tiny fruit, withered and speckled with worm spots.

Clearly, the incompetent fools who had taken over the castle grounds had no idea what they were doing.

“What are you doing here?” Golathar finally addressed the woman who had been standing in the middle of his sitting room.

“My King.” The woman spoke to his back. “I started a new cycle this day.”

“Woman, why in the hell would you feel the need to speak to me of such things?”

“If a wife cannot speak to her husband of such things, then who?”

He rounded on her. “What is your purpose?”

Every ounce of the woman’s beauty remained from when he had plucked her from obscurity ten years ago. In fact, she had grown in beauty. Her hips and breasts had rounded, and her hair, treated with all care The Mountain could provide had grown to her waist and nearly shone a golden red.

And he was sick of looking at her. Wretches on the side of the road could do what she was supposed to do.

“I know why you so rarely share my bed now. You have Solveiga to warm yours. And you’ll not hear a grievance from me about that. But my King, you have clearly given up on me carrying your child. Please.”

“Do not say another word.” Each word came out low and measured.

“I am no use to you if you just let me go ho-”

In a flash, Golathar crossed the room to her and he grasped the hair on the side of her head, taking complete control of her head.

“You are mine,” he hissed through his teeth.

All the fight left the woman and she was nearly limp against his hand. He was nearly disappointed. The thrill of dominating her had left when she stopped resisting him.

“Of course, my King,” was all her plump lips produced.

Golathar tossed her aside and she collapsed onto a sofa, laying there like a ragdoll.

“Get out of my sight.”

She stood, slinking away from him until she stood before the door, there, she smoothed her hair and dressed.

The door opened before her and Solveiga entered, standing just before Jeardra.

Golathar smirked. Two men circling with swords in hand was less indicative of a fight than any time these two made eye contact.

“Jeardra.” Solveiga inclined her head slightly.

“Strange, I hadn’t realized the custom of displaying deference for your Queen had changed recently.” Jeardra hissed the words with false civility.

“Oh, I had forgotten.” Solveiga had a wicked smirk on her face. “It is so easy to forget one’s station.”

“You may do everything possible to undermine my authority in this castle, but the crown is mine.” Clearly, Jeardra had no patience for Solveiga today.

Solveiga bowed at her waist, nearly dipping her dark hair to the ground. “I apologize, Your Majesty,” her tone mocked.

Jeardra swept out the door but got the last word in before she was too far gone. “Careful to not wear holes in the knees of your dress. The court might know why you’re really tolerated in the castle.”

Solveiga whorled to the door, ready to pour her ire out, but the door shut in front of her.

Golathar lifted a single eyebrow when she turned to face him.

Her voice was sickly sweet, “It’s been some time since you have invited Jeardra to your suite.”

“She is my queen.” He watched her expression sour slightly as he brought his glass to his lips and sipped his smooth liquor.

“Why my love?” she asked as she sashayed closer. She was overplaying her hand, but he enjoyed watching her try to seduce him.

“The people would never stand for it, should I put her aside.”

“But my King, my love, you don’t need to let that stop you. Just remind them who is the king. Who can do what he’d like.” She was pressing herself against him now, revealing an ample amount of cleavage in a dress that was cut shamefully low.

He slammed his glass on a table, gripped her waist, and pulled her even closer, enjoying her curves against his body.

“How was court today my love?” She ran a finger through the beard on his cheek.

“Nothing important. But the council thought it important to mention a dragon has been sighted in Kathardra.”

Solveiga took a step away from him, Golathar frowned at her. She looked far too alarmed. How could he be the only one who saw this ‘news’ for what it was?”

“But the prophecy,” she breathed.

Golathar shrugged, he refused to stoop to the level of these fools who saw ghouls in every shadow. He poured another drink and watched a series of emotions dance across Solveiga’s face.

“My King. I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation.”

Now he was annoyed. “Would I misunderstand the gravity of the situation if a bear were sighted? What about a pack of wolves? Wyvern, maybe a griffon. We haven’t seen one of those in a long time either.”

“Sire. No prophecy has ever failed to come to pass. Typically multiple interpretations can be found. Do you have the full text of the prophecy?”

“Why would I?” He snapped at her. “It’s nothing more than folklore.”

“My King, even folklore is rooted in truth. I must find the original text of the prophecy. There may be something that would grant us an advantage.”

“If you must.” He couldn’t care less what she did when he didn’t need her to cast a spell. Or do other things… He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward his bed chamber. “But I insist it wait.”