Shifting Stars by Gary Stringer (simple e reader .TXT) 📕

her hood. “I am so pleased you were able to attend. I trust you had a pleasant journey here?”

Both men nervously agreed that yes, their journeys were indeed trouble-free.

“Excellent,” Dreya declared. “Now, if you would allow me…?”

She moved between them, a hand on each one’s arm as they strolled through her garden. As they walked, she pointed out various items of interest along the way, and both men were sure to make appropriate appreciative noises.

“Are you two quite alright?” Dreya asked innocently. “You seem almost nervous about something.”

Both men scoffed at such an absurd notion. Of course they weren’t nervous. Why would they be?

“Why indeed?” Dreya agreed as they reached the steps of her Tower. “It would be extraordinary if you were nervous. After all, you were bold enough when you were sending others into my grounds to attack me, so why would two such brave men be nervous at the prospect of meeting me yourselves, for a harmless little dinner party?”

Before either could think of any kind of response, she removed her hands from their arms and dropped to one knee to examine the black roses. “Look at these!” she exclaimed delightedly. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

Both men grabbed this new line of conversation with both hands, waxing lyrical on the astounding beauty of the flowers.

Dreya picked one and stood, turning to face them. “I used one of these roses to banish the lich form of Ulvarius that had been guarding this place for three centuries. Naturally, I know the stories of that time. It must have been terrible to live in the shadow of such a tyrant, not knowing from one moment to the next whether one might live or die at their slightest whim. When it came down to it, though, all I had to do was prick my finger on a thorn.” She demonstrated, holding her hand close to their faces so they could watch a trickle of blood run down her fingers and drip onto the ground. “Then I invoked blood magic and he simply vanished in a puff of smoke.” She made the rose turn to dust in her hand and blew it in their faces. “Oh, I do apologise,” she gasped. “Must have been a freak gust of wind.”

As the two men followed her inside, they assured her that there was no harm done and not to worry about such little accidents.

“It’s good of you to be so forgiving,” she said as two death knight guards opened the doors into the dining hall. There, a ghoul awaited them, carrying, of all things, a white towel as if it were a waiter at a restaurant, there to greet them and show them to their table. Which, of course, was precisely its function that night.

Dreya removed her hood and regarded the two men with a puzzled expression, cocking her head to one side.

“There’s definitely something about you two tonight. Are you sure you’re not nervous about something?”

Both men assured her they were fine.

“Well, if you’re sure. But I should tell you, this is my first time entertaining two such important visitors, so if I say or do anything tonight that makes you the slightest bit uncomfortable, you will tell me, won’t you?”

They both agreed they would.

“Promise?” she pressed them.

Forcing a smile, they both promised.

“Excellent,” she declared, “now if you would care to follow my ghoulish waiter here, he will show you to your places on the dinner table.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, slip of the tongue, I meant at the dinner table, of course, not on it! I mean, it’s not like I’m going to gobble you up or anything, is it?” she laughed.

The two men nervously joined in her laughter as they walked into the dining room and stood at their places until Dreya, at the head of the table, sat down.

“Ah, such gentlemen,” she said. “Waiting for a lady to sit first.”

The ghoul flew away and returned with the wine list.

“Do you mind if I choose?” Dreya asked her guests.

They assured her they didn’t mind at all.

“Excellent. Hmmm…Red for tonight, I think,” Dreya mused. Let me see…she stabbed the list with a finger.” The ghoul flew away again and returned a moment later with a bottle, which he presented to his mistress. When he poured a small amount into a glass for her, she stared at it for a moment, her eyes wide. Dipping her little fingertip into the liquid, she hesitantly tasted a drop on the tip of her tongue. Screwing up her face in disgust, Dreya flushed with embarrassment, and shooed the ghoul away with the bottle and glass. “Don’t bother with the list again!” she called after him. “Any will do. Just make sure it’s actually wine, this time, and not…blood!”

To her two guests, she said, “I’m so sorry. He’s new – I’m just training him up. Only been with me a few days, but then you knew that.”

After that, the rest of the dinner passed without incident. They talked about small, inconsequential things and the two men almost started to relax. Almost.

The dinner came to an end and true to her word, Dreya invited them into her drawing room, leaving her ‘household staff’ to clear everything away.

Settling into soft leather chairs, surrounded by books on shelves, paintings on the walls and a large plush rug on the floor, Dreya took a sip of wine, and remarked, “Isn’t this civilised?”

Yes, it was, they agreed.

“Well, think how much more enjoyable it could have been, had you not sent your people to kill me. If you had simply asked to meet me to discuss your concerns, we could have avoided so much unpleasantness. Instead, we are here, as I said in my letter, to discuss our future relations. Specifically, the terms of your surrender.”

“Surrender?” the men demanded.

“Of course,” Dreya said as if it should be obvious. “You went to war with me, and you lost. Now you have a choice: you can either escalate the conflict, or you can surrender.

“Let me be clear,