Page 37 of The Last Knight

Chapter Thirteen

There was treachery thick in the air—Gunther could feel it coiling like a venomous snake around him. Let the generals play their petty games. Did they truly believe he wouldn’t sense their betrayal? That he, the most powerful being across all realms, would fall to something as crude as a blade in the back?

Fools.

He'd read Meliot’s tomes cover to cover, each one a chilling foretelling of deception and blood. He’d expected this. The Torants were nothing if not predictable, faithless creatures with no concept of honor. In their world, a knife sunk in while a back was turned was as natural as breathing.

But they’d made one fatal mistake: thinking Gunther could be taken down like any other man.

“Kill them. Butcher their bodies. Do it while our warriors watch,” the Darkness demanded, a delectable fury simmering just under the surface of his foremost thoughts. “The strength of the darkness is yours.”

“Gunther, as you can see, it is urgent that more warriors be conjured immediately,” Kel stated, his eye looking somewhere past Gunther’s left shoulder. “The threats on our western border grow with each passing day. Our current guard force is growing tired.”

Whether the threat was real or not, Gunther doubted the situation was as dire as the generals were portraying it to be.

“I will go myself. It is not that I do not wish to conjure more warriors, it is that I am not sure of the proper process to ensure they are loyal only to me.”

Joc straightened, his eyes filled with fury. “They should be loyal and obedient to not only you, Master, but also your leaders. Kel and I, your generals. Otherwise, how can we command the forces?”

“I stand corrected,” Gunther acquiesced in a flat tone. “As I said. It will require days of research. For the time being, I can fortify the border magically. No one will be able to pass.”

Joc held both hands up, as if stopping someone from approaching. “There is no need for magical intervention.”

Gunther met the general’s gaze and attempted to read his thoughts, but the Torant’s mind was impenetrable. Someone with strong magic had placed wards on both of the general’s minds.

He continued, ensuring to keep his expression blank. “Did you not just say the guard force is growing tired?”

“We did Master,” Kel said. “However, if you install magical barriers, it will be seen as an insult to your warriors. A strong message that you do not trust them.”

I don’t. Gunther thought to himself.

If he were to be honest, there was not one being in the realm he trusted fully. The only person within the realms that he considered to be honest was Prince Sterling, but the prince could not help him here, he would never ever interfere in another kingdom’s dealings.

Did Joc and Kel have plans that extended past their realm?

The Dark Realm, Atlandia and Esland, were sworn enemy territories. Over the decades they’d warred many times. Meliot, Gunther’s predecessor, had never given up on the idea of overtaking the forbidden land, which was rumored to be breathtakingly beautiful.

However, what made Esland enticing was the existence of dragons there. Meliot had wanted to trap Prince Sterling who had control of the majestic beasts so that, in turn, he would use them against other realms and become the supreme ruler.

Fortunately, it was because of the dragons that no other realm had ever succeeded in infiltrating Esland and in all probability never would.

The relationship between the rulers of Atlandia and the Dark Realm was a more complicated one. There were scrimmages between the fighters, usually wolves against dark sentinels that resembled wolves, but it rarely escalated into a true battle. The magical protections of that realm kept intruders from going past the forest surrounding it. The wards were impenetrable and had held for centuries. Yet, on occasion, defectors from the Dark Realm had managed to get past the barrier. It was almost as if it were a living essence that understood the difference between enemy and ally.

One of the generals gave an impatient huff.

“What will you do to help your warriors? Do you plan to allow them to perish if there is an attack?” Joc demanded.

Gunther understood that it was only a matter of time when he would be able to continue in the role of ruler without using the dark powers to keep control. The warriors were bloodthirsty and were growing impatient. They thrived on war and destruction and any ruler who did not, had to be overthrown.

The darkness within him rose, overwhelming his senses.

“Conjure more warriors. Attack. War. You must. Release us. Just this once.”

His body hummed with expectation. A sensation tempting him forward made him close his eyes.

Why not? On some level he thirsted for the satisfaction of allowing his powers free rein. To feel the full strength of what hummed within him.

“Very well. I will do it. You’ll have your wish—more fighters.” The words were his, yet not. His voice echoed strangely, layered, as though a chorus of Gunther’s spoke at once, each with a different edge of power.