uncertainly around the nobles at a discreet distance with fear writ large on every face.
‘The banquet is all prepared as I instructed?’ Vyle asked icily. At this Yegara’s flustered countenance cleared a little. It was clearly not the banquet that he was scared about; perhaps it was merely that Yegara feared the consequences of the botched hunting expedition falling on his own head.
‘Everything has been readied for you in the Amber wing, my archon,’ Olthanyr effused convincingly. ‘I’d thought that the most fitting place to start.’
Kassais furrowed his brow. ‘Amber wing?’ he muttered.
‘This dung heap has seven wings to it,’ Vyle explained. ‘Each night we’ll feast in a different one of the halls. By the time the week is out we can be assured that the locals will be in too weakened a state to do a cursed thing against us.’
Yegara seemed to become nervous again. ‘Not the Onyx wing, my archon. I advise against it, the Onyx wing is a most… disagreeable place for anything, let alone a feast.’
Vyle rounded on Yegara and struck across him across the face with a blow that sent him sprawling. ‘Never presume to tell me what to do,’ the Shrike Lord snarled. ‘I’ll dance and sport and puke in every one of your ancestor’s precious halls to make them my own, even your haunted black wing with all its worthless ghosts and ineffectual curses. Now get up.’
Yegara climbed unsteadily to his feet, his face burning where Vyle’s gauntlet had struck it. Kassais stood off to one side smirking while the Shrike Lord humiliated the last Yegara in front of his former servants and slaves. Vyle stood perfectly still, glaring at Yegara and waiting.
‘I’m very sorry, my archon,’ Yegara promptly stammered through torn lips. ‘I forget my place. You alone are the master of this house.’
‘That’s right, and you are my slave,’ Vyle said. ‘You’ve grown pretentious in the extreme when you presume to advise me.’
Yegara bobbed his head miserably in agreement, evoking a cruel smile on Vyle’s face. ‘Perhaps I should send you outside to wait for death with the natives – I’m sure they would welcome the last in the line of their old benefactors with open arms.’
Yegara flinched involuntarily. The kind of crude horrors the natives would inflict upon him if given the chance were less than nothing compared to what the Commorrites could do, but they filled his mind with fear nonetheless.
‘Perhaps we can proceed with the banquet now, Vyle?’ Kassais said a little plaintively. ‘Fast healing always makes me a trifle peckish.’
Vyle glanced sharply at the other archon and then nodded. There was still something hidden in Yegara’s face – one of many secrets he thought he was keeping from his new master. He consoled himself that there was plenty of time to break the weakling properly and find all the answers inside his rancid little skull in due course. In the coming week they would probably benefit from the additional diversion.
Chapter Five
The First Banquet
In the Amber hall a magnificent table of richly polished wood had been laid out for a feast. The hundred-place-long table was groaning with platters of food. Silver-skinned fish there were in thousands, a myriad of different sizes and varieties from finger-long sprats to ocean-going leviathans, poached, fried, boiled, scalloped and raw. There were filigreed trays bearing wobbling piles of eggs, crustaceans, invertebrates and shellfish both in and out of their calciferous armour. Liveried servants in ochre and bronze stood around the walls in attendance while Vyle’s courtiers and concubines mingled warily with Kassais’s warriors and ex-Yegara clan functionaries.
The Shrike Lord lounged on a throne at the head of the table, with Kassais seated at his right hand and Olthanyr Yegara hovering anxiously nearby. He picked disinterestedly at the food set before him while he watched the baroquely attired throng. To his disgust many
‘The banquet is all prepared as I instructed?’ Vyle asked icily. At this Yegara’s flustered countenance cleared a little. It was clearly not the banquet that he was scared about; perhaps it was merely that Yegara feared the consequences of the botched hunting expedition falling on his own head.
‘Everything has been readied for you in the Amber wing, my archon,’ Olthanyr effused convincingly. ‘I’d thought that the most fitting place to start.’
Kassais furrowed his brow. ‘Amber wing?’ he muttered.
‘This dung heap has seven wings to it,’ Vyle explained. ‘Each night we’ll feast in a different one of the halls. By the time the week is out we can be assured that the locals will be in too weakened a state to do a cursed thing against us.’
Yegara seemed to become nervous again. ‘Not the Onyx wing, my archon. I advise against it, the Onyx wing is a most… disagreeable place for anything, let alone a feast.’
Vyle rounded on Yegara and struck across him across the face with a blow that sent him sprawling. ‘Never presume to tell me what to do,’ the Shrike Lord snarled. ‘I’ll dance and sport and puke in every one of your ancestor’s precious halls to make them my own, even your haunted black wing with all its worthless ghosts and ineffectual curses. Now get up.’
Yegara climbed unsteadily to his feet, his face burning where Vyle’s gauntlet had struck it. Kassais stood off to one side smirking while the Shrike Lord humiliated the last Yegara in front of his former servants and slaves. Vyle stood perfectly still, glaring at Yegara and waiting.
‘I’m very sorry, my archon,’ Yegara promptly stammered through torn lips. ‘I forget my place. You alone are the master of this house.’
‘That’s right, and you are my slave,’ Vyle said. ‘You’ve grown pretentious in the extreme when you presume to advise me.’
Yegara bobbed his head miserably in agreement, evoking a cruel smile on Vyle’s face. ‘Perhaps I should send you outside to wait for death with the natives – I’m sure they would welcome the last in the line of their old benefactors with open arms.’
Yegara flinched involuntarily. The kind of crude horrors the natives would inflict upon him if given the chance were less than nothing compared to what the Commorrites could do, but they filled his mind with fear nonetheless.
‘Perhaps we can proceed with the banquet now, Vyle?’ Kassais said a little plaintively. ‘Fast healing always makes me a trifle peckish.’
Vyle glanced sharply at the other archon and then nodded. There was still something hidden in Yegara’s face – one of many secrets he thought he was keeping from his new master. He consoled himself that there was plenty of time to break the weakling properly and find all the answers inside his rancid little skull in due course. In the coming week they would probably benefit from the additional diversion.
Chapter Five
The First Banquet
In the Amber hall a magnificent table of richly polished wood had been laid out for a feast. The hundred-place-long table was groaning with platters of food. Silver-skinned fish there were in thousands, a myriad of different sizes and varieties from finger-long sprats to ocean-going leviathans, poached, fried, boiled, scalloped and raw. There were filigreed trays bearing wobbling piles of eggs, crustaceans, invertebrates and shellfish both in and out of their calciferous armour. Liveried servants in ochre and bronze stood around the walls in attendance while Vyle’s courtiers and concubines mingled warily with Kassais’s warriors and ex-Yegara clan functionaries.
The Shrike Lord lounged on a throne at the head of the table, with Kassais seated at his right hand and Olthanyr Yegara hovering anxiously nearby. He picked disinterestedly at the food set before him while he watched the baroquely attired throng. To his disgust many
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