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- Author: B. Miles
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“We were never stable,” Galla said, her voice gentle. “Just because you had control, doesn’t mean we were stable.”
Lord Remorn shook his head. “This is a waste of time. Daughter, are you ready to stop playing these games and to come back to my halls?”
“No,” she said. “I’m not.”
“Then there’s nothing left to say.”
“I have a proposal to make,” Galla said.
Lord Remorn snorted, but Cam spoke up first. “You should listen to her,” Cam said.
“I’m done listening.”
“If you’re willing to step down from your position and relinquish your title,” Galla said, “I’ll allow you a seat on the Elder Council. I’ll name you Elder of the Remorn Village and let you retain most of your power and privileges.”
“And who will take my title?” he asked, almost laughing. “Camrus here?”
“I will,” Galla said. “I will be the Lord of this Mansion.”
“Women don’t rule,” he said.
“Then pass the title to my husband.”
“Never.” The laughter left Lord Remorn’s eyes. “This is absurd. Come back to my halls. Cast aside this nothing shaman you’ve set your sights on. There can still be forgiveness.”
“Relinquish your title, name me the Lord of the Mansion.” Galla seemed to draw herself up as she stared down her father.
The silence hung thick in the enormous stone cavern.
Lord Remorn shook his head and half turned.
“Shall we handle them, Lord?” Dore asked. The armored men behind him seemed to shift and move. Lamplight played off their shined bronze plates. Warden Dore shrank back a step and pulled his cloak around him.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” Lord Remorn said. “Vogen!”
Vogen stepped forward. He dropped his helmet into position and held his spear at the ready.
“Yes, Lord,” Vogen said.
“Arrest my daughter and the shaman,” Lord Remorn said. “If they resist you, kill them.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Galla said.
But Lord Remorn turned away and walked back toward the ranks of men. Warden Dore shuffled along behind him.
“I’m sorry, Daughter,” he said. “This has to end now. There’s no time left.”
“You’re right.” Galla’s voice dripped with regret. “There’s no time left.”
She closed the front of her lamp. The fire inside guttered then died.
Cam stepped forward and placed himself between the armored men and Galla. He gripped the pommel of his sword as Vogen lowered his spear.
“First armored,” Vogen shouted. “Forward.”
The armored men marched ahead, closing the distance. Their boots made a rhythmic drumming in the echoing cavern. Cam drew his sword in one fluid motion and reached for his fire. It rolled down his arm and wrapped itself around his father’s blade like molten ivy.
“Get back,” Cam shouted as Vogen clattered forward. Galla stumbled away, her red hair flying as she ran.
Cam met Vogen’s charge head on. He caught the armored man’s spear thrust and turned it aside, slicing his blade down the length of the shaft. Cam pushed the spear down and rammed the point of his sword into Vogen’s exposed shoulder joint. The man screamed as the blade sizzled into his skin. Cam ripped it back and the wound cauterized as the tip pulled out.
Vogen staggered to the side as Cam whipped his sword up into the air and released more flame.
Fire spread out in front of him like a river. The armored division’s charge pulled up short as Cam’s flames lapped in all directions. Instead of forming a wall, he let the flames burn low on the floor like an undulating snake. He saw the fire reflected in the eyes of the men in the front line. He saw the fear in their expressions.
Shouts came from the far end of the hall. Cam watched more armored men spill out from the doors to the left. They were led by a figure in a plumed helmet. Captain Brice’s long, dark hair streamed out the back as she thrust her sword high into the air.
Cam’s armored soldiers pressed forward. Half of Remorn’s division turned to meet them. Captain Brice pulled her charge up short and stopped twenty paces away, her men banging on their shields.
The undulating fire fell away as Cam released his magic. Smoke hung in the air and drifted toward the ceiling fifty or sixty feet away.
“Remorn!” Cam shouted. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
Men shouted as Remorn’s armored division began to pull back. But before they could reach the safety of the hallways, more bodies spilled out of the surrounding exits. Elves dressed in gleaming steel and leather marched in lockstep, surrounding Remorn’s heavy infantry from the other side and cutting off their retreat.
Cam spotted Gwedi’s bright red hair and Miuri’s golden halo at the lead.
Remorn’s men bristled. Cam flicked his sword and released the last of his magic. It dissipated into the air though smoke continued to rise from the heated bronze blade.
Galla trotted back to him and stood at his side.
“Father!” she called out over the din of confused men. “Father, it’s finished. Call them off!”
More commotion as the Elves marched closer. Cam could tell Remorn’s men were going to attack the Elves at any moment, though the opposite flank was less willing to fight Captain Brice.
Bodies shoved aside as Lord Remorn appeared at the front of the line. He stood opposite Cam and Galla, his face disheveled and twisted with rage. Sweat dripped down his face.
“You damned fool,” he said. “How dare you use godlings in this.”
“It’s over, Remorn,” Cam said. “Tell your men to stand down. They’ll be spared.”
“You dog,” Remorn said, his voice an animal growl. “You come into my halls as a guest and this is what you do to me?”
“Stand them down,” Galla said. Cam heard the begging in her voice. “It doesn’t have to go further.”
“I’ll slaughter you all,” Remorn said. “I’ll kill you both then kill your unnatural godling bastards.” Remorn turned toward the line
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