The Giants walked beside the mounted Princes as they proceeded along the broad cobbled street. The curious faces of children, laborers, soldiers, wives, and merchants looked up at them, white breath rushing from their mouths and nostrils. Behind the Princes the innocuous death wagon rolled along the street, its tragic cargo yet to be revealed. Now the twenty-two Uduru from Steephold filed through the gate. Fangodrim went back to greet them personally, and he embraced Rockjaw.
“Where are Tadarus and Fangodrel?” Fangodrim asked Rockjaw. “Your rider’s message said nothing of them.”
Rockjaw’s response was a half-grunt, half-moan. “Best to ask the Prince Andoses,” he said. “I would not speak for him.”
Fangodrim turned his big face toward Andoses, but the Sharrian Prince looked straight ahead, toward the black palace in its cloak of snow. “I bring grim news,” said Andoses. “It should be the Queen’s ears that hear it first.”
Fangodrim grunted. “She awaits you in the Great Hall with Vireon.”
At the palace gates grooms took their tired horses toward the stables. A squad of men came forth to assign lodging and barracks to the warriors of Shar Dni and Uurz, while the returning Men of Udurum were greeted with smiles and handshakes. None of them spoke yet of the sad news they too carried.
Rockjaw himself took the body of Tadarus from the wagon, carrying it through the arch of the palace gate. Trailing behind the Lord of Steephold, his face dour, Fangodrim escorted the Princes through the snowy courtyard, up the marble steps, and into the massive hall. It seemed a curtain of heat hung there above the steps, and D’zan almost fainted when he entered it. He had lived with the cold for weeks now; this haven of crackling flames was like a paradise. Fires roared in huge braziers hung from iron chains. Pillars of jet streaked with gold and silver supported the enormous vault of the roof, and tapestries stitched with untold wealth sparkled along the walls.
Six armored Uduru stood on either side of the royal dais, and twelve human guards lined north and south walls. A Giant’s throne sat empty in thet e'0em' wi shadows at the rear of the dais, and before it sat two normal- sized chairs, carved and jeweled to rival the glory of the Great Throne. In one of these seats reclined the Queen of Udurum, a small yet beautiful woman with long flowing hair the color of night. Jewels and gold glimmered on her fingers and at her neck; even from a distance D’zan could see the emerald green of her eyes. In the chair beside her sat not her husband, but a young man of powerful build, a narrow-faced Tadarus dressed in a tunic of purple silk and cloak of white fur. This must be Prince Vireon, brother of the dead man. At his feet on the highest step of the dais sat a gorgeous girl with flowing blonde hair, dressed in a rather simple gown the color of fresh snow.
Rockjaw walked in solemn grace, sinking to one knee before the dais and placing the enshrouded body on the marble floor. Tyro, Lyrilan, and Andoses went also to their knees, heads bowed, and D’zan knew enough court etiquette to follow their lead. He stared at the floor and did not watch Vireon come down the steps and pull back the shroud. Nor did he see the Queen rise from her throne and rush down the steps. But he heard too well her awful scream as she saw the face of her dead son. It rang through the Great Hall, a demon-struck bell reverberating among the splendor and flames.
Her scream faded to fierce sobbing. The Princes kept their eyes on the polished floor, but D’zan dared a peek in the Queen’s direction. Vireon held her now, and her body writhed in the storm of her grief. Diamond tears welled in Vireon’s eyes, and D’zan knew this was a man who had loved his brother greatly. He saw tears also in the eyes of the great Rockjaw, and the Giant sentinels wiped at their eyes with the hems of their cloaks. He could not see if the human soldiers along the walls cried too. He returned his gaze to the floor.
“You knew,” the Queen said to Vireon, accusing him of prescience with her streaming eyes. “Somehow you knew, didn’t you?”
Vireon nodded, holding her hands. He looked at the withered flesh that had been Tadarus. “I only felt it… in my bones,” he said.
Fangodrim spoke gently. “The bond between brothers is a powerful thing. This is a terrible day for Uduru and men alike. Our recent bliss now turns to sorrow. Tadarus was the noblest of men.”
Rockjaw spoke next. “A young King he was. All who saw him knew he would rule with honor and strength.” He turned his reddened eyes to Vireon. “My Prince… my Queen… his death falls upon me. He died at Steephold, even as our walls fell about us…”
Vireon raised a hand. “Let my mother rest and reclaim herself,” he said, “and we will hear all that is to be said.”
“No!” said the Queen, breaking away from him. She knelt and put the shroud back over Tadarus’ dead face. “Tell me now. Tell me everything. Where is… where is Fangodrel?”
D’zan could not tell if she spoke in fear, anger, or sorrow. Perhaps a mix of all three. She looked not at Rockjaw, but at Prince Andoses, whose eyes were downcast.
“Andoses!” she demanded. She rose and stepped toward him. “Where is my other son?”
Andoses looked up. D’zan could not see if he wep sestepped tot. He spoke as if the words caused him pain. Likely, they did.
“Gone,” said Andoses. He pointed at the corpse. “The Pale Prince slew his own brother… and escaped into the night.”
The Queen gasped. Vireon’s fists clenched.
“He killed many more besides,” said Andoses. “And nearly myself.” He threw back his cloak and opened his shirt, showing the fresh scars and bandages retained from the night of terror. “Steephold fell under his will alone. His… and that which he commanded.”
“What did he command?” asked Vireon. His eyes simmered, pools of blue fire.
“Sorcery,” said Andoses. “A host of shadows… demons… ghosts. Things that crawled out of the night to kill Men and Giants. They brought the walls of Steephold crumbling on our heads!” Now the Sharrian wept openly, and D’zan felt pity for him.
“Why?” asked the Queen, ignoring the fresh tears on her cheeks. “Why would he do this?”
Andoses shook his head and wiped at his eyes.
The Queen turned to Rockjaw. The Giant had no answer either.
Finally she embraced Tyro, then Lyrilan. “Sons of my dear friend, would that we met under less tragic circumstances. What do you know of this?”
“Nothing at all, Majesty,” answered Tyro. “We arrived to find the castle broken. Rockjaw and his sentinels met us there, and we learned the fate of poor Tadarus.”
“There was a Serpent,” said Lyrilan. The Queen turned her face to him. “An Old Wyrm crawled up from beneath the ruins.”
Rockjaw grunted. “An aged beast, stirred by the commotion. We slew it easily enough.”
Tyro bristled. Only one Giant had died battling the Wyrm, but nearly fifty Men.
“Great Queen,” said D’zan, “I might know something of this evil that plagues both our houses.”
“May I present Prince D’zan,” said Tyro. “Scion of Yaskatha. He has come a very long way to seek audience with Your Majesty.”
“Prince D’zan,” said the Queen, turning her green eyes on him. Their heat seemed more dangerous than the flames leaping from the braziers. “Of what evil do you speak?”
“The Sorcerer Elhathym, who slew my father, desecrated the bones of my family, and stole my ancestral throne for himself. His power is terrible, and his reach is long. Already he has allied himself with the Empress of Khyrei and sent assassins to murder me. He fears I will return to claim my throne.”
The Queen thought for a moment. “What has this usurper to do with Fangodrel?”
“I know not, Majesty,” said D’zan. “Yet when one speaks of sorcery, all things must be considered.”
Vireon spoke up. “Could this Elhathym be responsible for Fangodrel’s betrayal? Tadarus’ death? Is that what you’re saying?”
D’zan stared up at the half-Giant Prince who was a full head taller than him. “I-I cannot say,” he stammered. “Perhaps the death… the demons… were meant for me. As was the Serpent.”
“Then why are you not dead?” asked Vireon.
“I carry a ward against evil,” said D’zan.
“So you bring a plague of sorcery into our land…” said Vireon, his voice rising. D’zan feared the man might strike him. I must maintain courtesy and grace, or be disgraced in this court.
Andoses stepped forward. “Cousin, calm yourself. Prince D’zan sought sanctuary in Uurz and it was granted.
