“I don't know the last time you've been to see the High King or the Ten, but they make up an elite force,” said King Heroi. “They are the protection of the north. And as for the Prospering Lands, that used to be a name given to the Forgotten Isles before they were forgotten. I would show you a scroll from that time, but they were destroyed in the fight when the Thieves from the westlands were pushed out of the north by Slithzalien.”
Yes, I know the thieves well, thought Joseph. They took my sister for their pleasures, and my brother to become one of them. Those cursed fools from across the ocean. If only the storms had drowned them on their way over here. But they are resilient. Some say they are in the service of Hector LaBelle II. As if I've ever trusted that man. Last I saw him he was with his son and heading for the westlands. There's one word to describe the LaBelles: ambitious. The years have not changed them. And the thieves. Would that they could have kept their Desert of Thieves to themselves and not troubled us here in Condeth Rahal. They're as bad as the dark one's bandits as far as I'm concerned. There's no difference between a bandit and a thief in my eyes. “If the lands were once prospering, they will not be again. Ours are the Prospering Lands now, king. The Forgotten Isles' glories have drowned with their memories.”
King Heroi looked as if he were gazing inward at himself. “I do not mean to trouble you so Joseph, and it is plain to see I have. If attack of our shores seems imminent I will rally the other kings to our cause. If Slithzalien was not wiped out the first time, he will be this time.”
“The dark one,” reflected Joseph. “Some say he is a sorcerer. It is told he was in a different form the first time he assailed our shores. The tales of him trouble me.”
“As they trouble us all,” King Heroi Smo said. “But I do not believe him to be a sorcerer. He is the ancient evil, nothing more.”
Joseph Longhall departed from the king's chambers. There was nothing more to say. The king in the east would heed his warnings and prepare for battle if need be or he would do nothing. Let us pray he prepares for battle.
He twisted his way through the woods and thought of dinner. His thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched squeal and a fluttering of wings. Glancing through the grey-brown leaves he could just make out the shape of creature. A Noiseless Sentinel here? Slithzalien's minion was gone just as soon as it had come. The air was still once again.
Pedrew Joseph, Longhall's squire, had joined him once again in the woods. “What did the king say?”
“What the king said was meant only for me,” Joseph replied. “I only jest, Pedrew. King Heroi Smo would not heed my words at first. But I think I may have convinced him of our peril to a certain extent. He has told me that if battle is imminent he will rally the forces of the kings throughout Condeth Rahal. That is as good as I could get from him.”
“Hmmm, not as well as I had hoped,” Pedrew reflected. “Not as well as either of us had hoped, Joseph, I should say. King Heroi is as wise as he is fair, but he has become estranged of the ways of the world with all its dangers. The name Slithzalien surely means little to him in these times, so far gone from the days of Erdwick when his ancestors lived.”
“The king is only concerned with the here and now and he does not see the threat that Slithzalien represents to us, even here in the east. If wisdom doesn't come to him soon we may have to set sail for the Forgotten Isles and find a new home there, my dearest of friends. My sons and daughters would be loath to leave their home, I should think, but we may have no other choice in the affair.”
You may have the right of things, thought Joseph. Better to flee our homeland than to feel the fires of war. That is a thing no man should have to see. Maybe that's why the king is being so stubborn. “Do you think I could send word to the High King himself in the north? Maybe he would hear reason and heed our warnings. How long was it past now that you saw the winged creature soaring over our skies? A month, did you say?”
“Yes, nigh on a month,” said Pedrew. “And it has troubled my heart since. If we could send word to the High King I fear it would not reach him in time. The north is some ways from here, Joseph. And everywhere I look the shadow spreads. Its fingers clutch at my heart. They say that is how you are ensnared by the Dark Lord. I wonder how
