“Yes, the cliff Clyden turned to seven thousand horses and warriors,” Shevannis explained further.

  “Very well this way, if you will please,” Danyais said, raising his hand, signaling to his guard to remain at a distance to give the three of them privacy. The King’s Guard only rode until they could get a view of the valley they were descending into and held their position. Shevannis, Clyden, and Danyais rode down the hill, then circled back to the middle of the hill. The Queen looked at the burned black scar on the field. “We burned both Sukkan and Loudas’ men there with the oil you gifted us. We saved as many of the dead nobles and officers as we could find. They have been salted and are ready for transport whenever you wish to retrieve them.”

  “Thank you,” Shevannis solemnly said.

  “Here we are,” Clyden announced, pointing at the blackened cliff.

  “It is as my son said,” Shevannis said, covering her trembling lips with her left hand. Tears started slowly leaking from her eyes, traveling down the contours of her jawline. Shevannis studied the cliff face. A long black charred mark ran almost over the entire cliff. Strawn along the ground were slabs of rocks that split away from the cliff face because of the extreme heat. The rocks not touched by the overlapping flames and smoke from when Zander burned the gate in Dragon Crest stood out in stark contrast. The ground leading away from the cliff was churned up by horses’ hooves, reminding Shevannis of how a farmer’s field looked from prepping for planting.

  “My son. He spoke true,” she sobbed aloud, finally unable to suppress her emotions as a mother, allowing herself to forget the queen she was. “My son was executed for telling the truth. My brother had him killed before me.” Caught off guard, neither man knew what to say to Shevannis’ horrible revelation. “My brother has ruled Sukkan with terror. I thought I was immune to it because he spared me when he killed all our brothers and sisters. He was not a favorable king. He slit my son’s throat in front of me before I knew it. Uthman laid dead at my feet. I don’t know how many times I stabbed him. The whole moment is a blur to me. I would have come sooner to see you, Danyais, but I have been busy.”

  Clyden felt awkward at the sight of a queen crying. Danyais guided his horse closer to her, laying a hand on her left shoulder. Shevannis grabbed it.

  “Shevannis, I am truly sorry,” Danyais said. Danyais would pull the very sky down if something were to happen to his children.

  “My son was the last messenger. He reported how you, Clyden, rode from the cliff, turning the very rocks into seven thousand cavalrymen. He told us of the Magus summoning the very demons of Golduvan as he saw the flames climb the cliff face. Ahshean, my son, said that you, Clyden, were possessed by Golduvan, and no Sukkan man walked before you who didn’t die.”

  An idea quickly passed through Clyden’s mind.

  “It was as Ahshean reported. I did turn the rocks into cavalry. A simple conjuring when blessed by the Gods and the right payment is agreed upon,” Clyden said.

  “A simple conjuring, payment?” Shevannis asked. Perplexed, even though the evidence was in front of her, she still could not believe it to be simple.

  “Yes, but the numbers were close to forty thousand and not the seven. Ahshean must have left to give his message before he saw all of them rise from the rocks. There was more. The gates to Golduvan’s palace would have been open should I have needed his twisted demonic army. I can still hear their foul, guttural words on the other side of the rocks now. They are not as loud as it was the other day, like a whisper,” Clyden said, rubbing his temple, feigning stress before pointing at the cliff face.

  Danyais looked at his friend, wondering why he was lying to Shevannis. It was his turn now to figure out what game his friend was up to. What game are you playing at Clyden?

  “I am glad we had no need that day of such terrible allies. But that was the past and today is a different day,” Danyais said, going along with Clyden’s absurd idea.

  “Can they get out?” Shevannis asked, her eyes alternating fearfully between eyeing the charred rock face and Clyden.

  “They can smell us, Shevannis. The funeral pyre nearly drove them insane with hunger the other day. Right now, they are whispering to me, wondering if I brought you here as a gift. They love royal flesh,” Clyden said, disregarding her question, selling the lie with all his conviction, his lips curving into a feral smile, causing her skin to prickle like she was standing wearing nothing more than a silken shift on a frozen lake. “They’re furious that I did not let them out to play. Only a demon would call the madness of war play. It will take me a while to repair this rift I made. For now, I am the gate that holds them back.”

  “You are the gate?” Shevannis asked?

  “I made a pact with Golduvan, and he wouldn’t still close the gate. Gods are not to be trusted,” Clyden said, sighing and shaking his head, “at least not Golduvan.”

  “You must not say such things about the Gods, especially in earshot of his servants. We are the children of the Gods,” Shevannis said, biting her lips. Her eyes darting back and forth nervously over the blackened cliff face.

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  “You may be their children figuratively, but I am their only child left alive,” Clyden said. Shevannis did not understand what the magus was saying. “Golduvan is leaving the sealing up to me, hoping I will fail. So long as I channel all my magic into this task, the gate will seal again.”

  “At least two months, you mentioned earlier at our meeting, Clyden?” Danyais said, now fully aware of what Clyden was angling for.

  “I fear I may have underestimated the time I may have needed at first, Danyais,” Clyden said to Danyais.

  “We will talk of this later. I am sorry to have interrupted, Shevannis. You were saying about your son?” Danyais said.

  “It must have been divine punishment, him dying like that in front of me for being so passive all these years,” Shevannis said woefully. “I want peace, Danyais. We will withdraw my armies now, and we will pay reparations for what my brother did to your southern kingdom in ten years.”

  “I also want peace. The reparations will not be needed. The south was all but destroyed by a storm and was never rebuilt properly when your brother sent his armies,” King Danyais said.

  “Very well then. Call it our apology for not sending troops to aid you when you fought the vrollocs,” Shevannis counter.

  “Why did Sukkan not send troops?” Clyden asked, curious as to what had transpired three years ago. If Sukkan had abided by their treaties and sent aid, Danyais would not have sought him out and then he would not have to deal with the trifling ways of an old dead king dragging Clyden from his forest.

  “In the spirit of friendship working towards peace, I will answer your question, Clyden. Three years ago, we knew of the plight of the south from refugees spilling over our borders. When your first emissaries arrived asking for help to combat the dread horde a year later, no one believed them. Mythical monstrosities such as vrollocs were only legends. Legends, until you sent the vrolloc skull. Uthman and his advisors decided to wait. They wanted to see how your forces would respond and handle such a threat, Danyais. When they saw that you all could hold your lands even without our aid. Uthman saw your plight as advantageous. We waited for you all to weaken yourself before my brother ordered us to invade Loudas. You know Sukkan has always desired a way to the ocean for trade,” Shevannis explained.

  “The ocean? Greed caused all this!?” Danyais said, motioning to the charred earth where they cremated the warriors who died on the field, trying to limit the anger in his voice.

  “Ambition and greed are all that it usually takes. How did your ancestor take the throne? Did they sit meekly, and the people decided the benevolence of your forefathers was enough? Choose one, ambition or greed, either one of these by themself is enough to push all rationale to the side, Danyais,” Shevannis said.

  Danyais wanted to counter Shevannis’ words, but he knew they were true. All kingdoms were born of blood, and the legacy of Kings or Queens were soaked in death. If one were to assign a smell to it, it would choke your senses, causing you to spew even the first milk you tasted of your mother’s love. Such a smell would even ruin the future senses of your generation.

  “Your right. Ambition and greed easily flame men’s thoughts and render all of us stupid at some point. Some more than others are driven to unforgivable madness,” Danyais said as he thought of the many ambitious and greedy nobles he had to deal with. “A truce. If we take both our armies and go then in ten years, you can still send your apology if you want, or you can help me rebuild the south and shoulder half the costs. I will see to it Lord Elton Cenarus will grant you ten duties exempt free trade permits for the next hundred years from goods taken out. At the end of the hundred years, Loudas will grant you a port city to be determined, and it will be Sukkan’s under Sukkan law. Though you all will have to pay half tariffs going to and from border crossings,” King Danyais said. Hoping the offered terms would set a foundation for long-lasting peace, eliminating Sukkan’s desire for a path to the sea.

  “Danyais, half tariffs when we still have to cross Loudas’ borders twice are still the same as if we crossed once now,” Shevannis said, raising two fingers. Her brilliant mind latching on to King Danyais’ intentions. “Twenty percent would be more of a fair representation of what should be acceptable.”

  “Forty,” Danyais counter.

  Shevannis was about to reply, but their negations were interrupted by Clyden, “Thirty.” Danyais looked at Clyden with a not-so-happy expression, upset with Clyden for interfering in their negotiations.

  “Thirty, starting now and having them last for the next hundred years. Don’t look at me like that, Danyais. I just didn’t want to watch the two of you haggle like common merchants selling rotted fruit to pigs. It is really beneath both of you. May I continue?” Clyden said.

  Shevannis looked at Clyden, shocked at what he had just said to the two of them. Danyais was not surprised by Clyden’s tone. Outside of Zander, Clyden was the only one who would dare talk to Danyais in such a manner. Of course, being a powerful walking magic conduit that could fry you with lightning bolts helped. If the magic was not enough for you, then a whirly cyclone of death with his glaive would convince even the most prideful of men to keep their lips shut or lose them to a kiss from Witch Devil usually did the trick and Danyais did not know of a single man that could fight against Clyden.

  “Like I was saying, thirty percent starting now for the next hundred years. However, you will not get an established port city. The other seventy percent you would have saved. You will need to set it aside for construction later,” Clyden said.

  “Okay, thirty percent,” Shevannis said quickly. Thirty percent was the original goal she was hoping for. “But the seventy percent saved to be used for what construction?”

  “For this,” Clyden said, hopping from his horse, drawing a crude map resembling the countries of Loudas and Sukkan on the ground with his right index finger. “You, well, not you. But whoever reigns in the future will have to build their own Port City. Far in the southern region. This area is not settled by anyone and has never even been. It is a marshland, a giant bog. Shevannis, your kingdom, will get ten trade permits at thirty percent tariffs for a hundred years. At the end of one hundred years. So long as the peace is maintained, then in a hundred years, Sukkan will get this worthless piece of land. Build the port, and that will connect Sukkan to the ocean for the sea trade you all want. I will teach your royal engineers how to fill in the marshlands and will work with your successor when it is time for Sukkan to take possession of it.”