he answered. “A kind reserved only for a being like Thor. He is
your issue, but he is more than that. He is more powerful even than you. If he
lives to see the day.”
Andronicus fumed.
“Tell me how to capture him,” he
demanded.
Rafi shook his head.
“That was always your weakness,”
he said. “You choose to capture, not to kill him.”
“I will capture him first,”
Andronicus countered. “Then kill him. Is there a way or not?”
There came another long silence.
“There is a way to strip him of
his power, yes,” Rafi said. “With his precious Sword gone, and his dragon gone,
he will be just like any other boy.”
“Show me how,” Andronicus
demanded.
There was a long silence.
“For a price,” Rafi finally
replied.
“Anything,” Andronicus said.
“I’ll give you anything”
There came a long, dark chuckle.
“I think one day you will come to
regret that,” Rafi answered. “Very, very much.”
CHAPTER
TEN
As Romulus marched down the
meticulously paved road, made of golden bricks, leading to Volusia, the Empire
capital, soldiers dressed in their finest snapped to attention. Romulus walked
in front of the remainder of his army, reduced to but a few hundred soldiers,
dejected and defeated from their bout with the dragons.
Romulus seethed. It was a walk of
shame. His entire life he had always returned victorious, paraded as a hero;
now he returned to silence, to a state of embarrassment, bringing back, instead
of trophies and captives, soldiers who had been defeated.
It burned him up inside. It had
been so stupid of him to go so far in pursuit of the Sword, to dare do battle
with the dragons. His ego had led him on; he should have known better. He had
been lucky to escape at all, much less with any of his men intact. He could
still hear his men’s screams, still smell their charred flesh.
His men had been disciplined and
had fought bravely, marching to their deaths on his command. But after his
thousands dwindled before his eyes to a few hundred, he knew when to flee. He
had ordered a hasty retreat, and the remnant of his forces had slipped into the
tunnels, safe from the breath of the dragons. They had stayed underground and
had made it all the way back to the capital on foot.
Now here they were, marching
through city gates that rose a hundred feet into the sky. As they entered this
legendary city, crafted entirely of gold, thousands of Empire soldiers
crisscrossed in every direction, marching in formations, lining the streets,
snapping to attention as he passed. After all, with Andronicus gone, Romulus
was the de facto leader of the Empire, and the most respected of all
warriors. That is, until his loss today. Now, after their defeat, he did not
know how the people would view him.
The defeat could not have come at
a worse time. It was the moment when Romulus was preparing his coup, preparing
to seize power and oust Andronicus. As he wound his way through the meticulous
city, passing fountains, meticulously paved garden trails, servants and slaves
everywhere, he marveled that instead of returning, as he had envisioned, with
the Destiny Sword in hand, with more power than he’d ever had, he was instead
returning in a position of weakness. Now, instead of being able to claim the
power that was rightly his, he would have to apologize before the Council and
hope not to lose his position.
The Grand Council. The thought of
it twisted him inside. Romulus was not one to answer to anyone, much less to a
council made up of citizens who had never wielded a sword. Each of the twelve
provinces of the Empire sent two representatives, two dozen leaders from every
corner of the Empire. Technically, they ruled the Empire; in reality, though,
Andronicus ruled as he wished, and the Council did as he said.
But when Andronicus had left for
the Ring, he had given the Council more authority than they’d ever had; Romulus
assumed Andronicus had done this to protect himself and keep Romulus in
your issue, but he is more than that. He is more powerful even than you. If he
lives to see the day.”
Andronicus fumed.
“Tell me how to capture him,” he
demanded.
Rafi shook his head.
“That was always your weakness,”
he said. “You choose to capture, not to kill him.”
“I will capture him first,”
Andronicus countered. “Then kill him. Is there a way or not?”
There came another long silence.
“There is a way to strip him of
his power, yes,” Rafi said. “With his precious Sword gone, and his dragon gone,
he will be just like any other boy.”
“Show me how,” Andronicus
demanded.
There was a long silence.
“For a price,” Rafi finally
replied.
“Anything,” Andronicus said.
“I’ll give you anything”
There came a long, dark chuckle.
“I think one day you will come to
regret that,” Rafi answered. “Very, very much.”
CHAPTER
TEN
As Romulus marched down the
meticulously paved road, made of golden bricks, leading to Volusia, the Empire
capital, soldiers dressed in their finest snapped to attention. Romulus walked
in front of the remainder of his army, reduced to but a few hundred soldiers,
dejected and defeated from their bout with the dragons.
Romulus seethed. It was a walk of
shame. His entire life he had always returned victorious, paraded as a hero;
now he returned to silence, to a state of embarrassment, bringing back, instead
of trophies and captives, soldiers who had been defeated.
It burned him up inside. It had
been so stupid of him to go so far in pursuit of the Sword, to dare do battle
with the dragons. His ego had led him on; he should have known better. He had
been lucky to escape at all, much less with any of his men intact. He could
still hear his men’s screams, still smell their charred flesh.
His men had been disciplined and
had fought bravely, marching to their deaths on his command. But after his
thousands dwindled before his eyes to a few hundred, he knew when to flee. He
had ordered a hasty retreat, and the remnant of his forces had slipped into the
tunnels, safe from the breath of the dragons. They had stayed underground and
had made it all the way back to the capital on foot.
Now here they were, marching
through city gates that rose a hundred feet into the sky. As they entered this
legendary city, crafted entirely of gold, thousands of Empire soldiers
crisscrossed in every direction, marching in formations, lining the streets,
snapping to attention as he passed. After all, with Andronicus gone, Romulus
was the de facto leader of the Empire, and the most respected of all
warriors. That is, until his loss today. Now, after their defeat, he did not
know how the people would view him.
The defeat could not have come at
a worse time. It was the moment when Romulus was preparing his coup, preparing
to seize power and oust Andronicus. As he wound his way through the meticulous
city, passing fountains, meticulously paved garden trails, servants and slaves
everywhere, he marveled that instead of returning, as he had envisioned, with
the Destiny Sword in hand, with more power than he’d ever had, he was instead
returning in a position of weakness. Now, instead of being able to claim the
power that was rightly his, he would have to apologize before the Council and
hope not to lose his position.
The Grand Council. The thought of
it twisted him inside. Romulus was not one to answer to anyone, much less to a
council made up of citizens who had never wielded a sword. Each of the twelve
provinces of the Empire sent two representatives, two dozen leaders from every
corner of the Empire. Technically, they ruled the Empire; in reality, though,
Andronicus ruled as he wished, and the Council did as he said.
But when Andronicus had left for
the Ring, he had given the Council more authority than they’d ever had; Romulus
assumed Andronicus had done this to protect himself and keep Romulus in
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