~:Chapter Six: Smooth Connections:~

Did Ceminara and Korari Survive? Will the Nesparians return? How much do the vampires REALLY know? All to be revealed in Chapter Six!

The council chamber was very much similar to the layout of the Dîarian Great Hall. Even though it was Stormhaven they sat in, Thodred drew strength from the familiarity of his surroundings. 

 

Three tables, long and broad, remained placed in three rows: The longest of the three was at the very top, the second and third largest were on the left and righthand side of a podium that could be viewed from all tables. Thodred sat at this Podium on an elevated throne-like chair, with Melandar closest to him at the top left. To the bottom right, the vampyres had been seated. The mysteriously-empty Nesparian table was on the right side of the second bar.

 

  "Dîarians of the council,"  said Lord Melandar, "and honoured guests, I bid you welcome to a secret our nation has held for over four centuries. The power behind Dîyar's throne." Melandar nodded at the secretive high table. "these indiviguals would normally be hidden from you at all costs, however, Lord Thodred has insisted we dissuade such polocies in light of recent events.   I, in all soundness of mind, refuse to violate centuries of tradition upon the whims of a Prince--and a young Prince at that. So Thodred--All Hail!--will be doing so himself, fully aware of the conseqences of such a barbaric action if his mother should return." 

 

Giving a swift nod to each person seated in various places around the room, he sat down on his green-padded chair.  Prince Thodred rose nearly at once.

 

 "Hail, Queen Silvestra and King Daradan." He bowed to the vampyres monarchs. Daradan used this moment to glance at the hightable, where Corbin, Melandar, and a host of unfamiliar faces sat with hardened expressions.

 

"It is my responsibility to inform you that Her Majesty, Queen Ceminara, has presently left our company." The young monarch's blue-green eyes flicked to his throne momentarily. "I had set out a table for my allies, the Nesparians, but they too have fl--" 

 

"No, Prince Thodred. Not fled. Abandoned." Heads snapped towards the doorway as Shahira strode proudly inside. Melandar's eyes narrowed. As though a strike of lightning had occured, the faces of the vamypre's rulers were illuminated with a wide array of emotions: suspision, disbelief, even fear--for a single moment, their long-held reserve was shattered by Shahira's re-appearence.

 

But only for a moment.

 

"Greetings and reverence to Princess Shahira of the Nesparian line," said King Daradan smoothly, quit enjoying  the venomous glances from his wife at the statement's addresse, " I am overjoyed to see myself the news of your return."

 

"It is amazing," said Shahira warmly, ignoring Daradan and gazing with a strange intensity at Dîyar's Prince, "How fast the mightiest of us may fall, Thodred." She bowed gracefully, her unbound hair billowing downward. "It is my honour to hail you as ally--and as my King." Ignoring (or perhaps chosing not to see) the outright disapproval of Thodred's council, she finished, "Long life to you, King Thodred!" She made her way up to the table where the vampyres had been seated.

 

"His highness must be ecstatic to see that such...arduous...devotion is enshrouded inside such a figure," said Silvestra coolly, rising from her chair. Shahira's smile, which had temporarily disappeared upon hearing the tone of the vampyre Queen's comment, sprang up again with an admirable resiliance.

 

"However." The Princess' smile flickered as Silvestra began again.

 

"The blood of Ceminara-Queen is not prolific enough to signify death. Unless your ladyship is so prepared to offer information as to her reason for the offering of fealty prior to the burning of Ceminara's pyre, she should not be so eager to spring towards the beginning of a young man's new era." 

 

Shahira's smile turned into a nefarious one.

 

"I am certain in certainty's entireity that Ceminara yellow-eyes is, or will soon be, deceased, Silvestra-Vampyre." Thodred stared at her as though his blue-green eyes could penetrate her words for cause.

 

"My Lord, Silvestra just winced as though she were in pain," Lord Melandar Murmured in Thodred's ear.

 

"Why do you say this, Princess? What reports do you have to support your claim?" Shahira blinked at Thodred's unexpected stability.

 

"Why, common sense, King  Thodred. Why would a woman as strong a ruler as--Endymion rest her--Ceminara was abandon her people? Not just just any leave during such hardships as our nations are currently experiencing--we have lived to see the greatest rise for foriegn conquest our lands have seen since the final days of the Azarian Empire! It takes the wisest of the wise and the bravest of the brave to remain." Prince Thodred's lips tightened.

 

And, for the second time, Melandar whispered in his ear, "Kings are wise."

 

"Ceminara is the living example of all such traits," replied Thodred. 

 

"I will consider the council you offer, your highness, as is due one of your blood. But I will not abandon any predessor without justified cause, and the word of the Nesparian ruler is apt to be clouded in recognizing the light of events passed." Only the Vampyres heard Shahira's angry hiss at the smooth dismissal, but she smiled venomously and continued.

 

"Of course, your Majesty," she said, "you are wise and just." 

 

"Good," said Dîyar's Prince, "Then we would move onward." The vampyre's monarchs nodded in approval. Only Daradan saw the smile creeping up the edges of his wife's mouth. 

 

"Corbin! Report!" Ordered Melandar, but Thodred shook his head and Corbin--who had been rising--sat again, looking rather dissapointed.

 

"Corbin is our caller," said Thodred, "He manages all intelligence networks for the crown." Corbin, who appeared to be grumbling something about 'those bloody foriegners,' rose, and began to speak: 

 

"Reports have reached my ears that, while seeming to lack in merit, are comprimised of facts that may yet assist us to the conditions of Zahmir's nation--and, for a brief moment, of Stormhaven.

 

One: A suspicious figure who bares Dîarian colours without due pride has been wondering the grounds of Stormhaven." Corbin glanced at Prince Thodred. "From what I understand, the female has been meandering the streets at night, armed and--in some cases--unjustifibly hostile towards any other person." Silvestra's perceptive eyes narrowed expectantly at Shahira. Daradan murmured something in her ear, and she regained her apathetical expression. 

 

"Now, I believe that travellers and such are to be encouraged to some degree--However, this woman appears to have been comitting reports to memory. Reports so intense and in-depth they shame the most superior of my officers. I fear for the safety of the fleeing Nesparians as well." 

 

"What of Zahmir?" Asked Daradan, "What have you heard there, o wise one?" 

 

Corbin smiled at Daradan's sardonic tone. "I reserve giving all material at once, Daradan King. It makes staying within the bounds of interest nigh impossible." Daradan smiled, his fanged grin incredibly diverse from Corbin's charming display of amusement.

 

"Zahmir's advances are working at a horrendously quickened pace, his workforce's hours and conditions exceeding all bounds of common decency. Day and night, the strongst leopard men build Zahmir's fleet. Phrases such as 'our race will eradicate such vermin' or, perhaps; ' you may as well give it to the humans' are bandied about with great frequency." Thodred frowned.

 

"Such demaning prequisites should not be heard from a reigning power," said Thodred, "even so, such facts are not relevant to current preceedings. Move on." Corbin, seemingly annoyed at being upstaged, gave a boy that was so primitavely sarcastic that Thodred's lips tigtheend in anger.

 

"Of course, Your Majesty," Corbin reliped in a silkily smooth voice, "Your wishes are my wishes. Perhaps you would like to hear of the Nesparian spy?" Eyes of the ensamble darted to Shahira, then to Corbin; then back again. Thodred opened his mouth to repliy immediately, but Melandar, his lips hardly moving; murmured: 

 

"Be wary of of who you offend, Thodred. A wise king measures such situations from all angles." 

 

Dîyar's Heir glanced at Shahira.

 

"Your patience in this matter is appreciated, Corbin." Corbin glanced at Thodred in confusion, then sunk into a bow once again. The ruler proceeded to shrink back, as though in hesitation, before straightening his shoulders and asking, "Shahira will now tell us what she knows of such afairs." Corbin's expression was almost immediately interested, but he regained his normal face.

 

"With humility, Majesty--Surely your Highness does not expect equal frankness here!" Corbin imposed. And Silvestra's quiet voice carried over him:

 

"Is this how you would address your Prince, Corbin? The boy knows more than you are aware."  Shahira rose at this, clenching her fists in apprehension. 

 

"My father was surprised to hear of Zahmir's Conquest," she began, evidently choosing her words with care, "Queen Ceminara was surprised, when my father sent  for her assistence. Thodred--All Hail the King!--was amazed to take up his throne.

 

How swiftly such surprise moves hence: 

Is it within the civility of a King to question his guest?" 

 

The doors opened again, and a dark-furred creature sprang up onto the second platform, swurling into the shape of King Korari.

 

His orange eyes blazed with exhaustion, cuts littered his face and clothed torso, but he was alive.

 

"She lives," he said simply, and the coucil burst into an uproar.

Author's Note

Remember that there are more than one type of war. There's alot we learn here--Pay close attention, it'll move much more quickly soon.