The Shadows of Grace by David Dalglish Page A

electricity.
    “Off we go.”
    When Lord Sully had said ‘feast’ he didn’t exaggerate. Harruq’s mouth dropped open at the sight. Baskets of bread dotted the tables, along with several filled with a red fruit Harruq didn’t recognize. Each of the four tables had a roasted boar, still hanging from the spit over elaborate plates of silver. Upon their entrance, the Lord raised a cup from his seat at the head of the largest table. A hundred soldiers sat nearby, their plates empty. As one they stood and turned toward the Eschaton.
    “To our guests,” Lord Sully said.
    “Honored!” the soldiers shouted, slamming a clenched fist against their breast. They sat as one. Lord Sully sipped from his cup, and then the feast began in earnest.
    “Please, sit at my side,” he said, gesturing to empty seats at either side of him. “It will allow us to talk.”
    Aurelia sat on his left. Harruq sat beside her, while Haern sat opposite the lord.
    “You are too kind,” Aurelia said as servants darted about carrying plates, forks, knives, and food.
    “Now is time for feasting, and therefore an end to all the formality,” Lord Sully said. “Please, call me Richard.”
    For a little while they ate, Harruq thoroughly enjoying the many meats, breads, and seemingly unlimited amount of wine. After a third cup, Aurelia not so subtly reminded him to keep his head. Harruq muttered but obeyed.
    “I must confess,” Richard said, sipping from his cup. He’d eaten very little of the meal set out before him. “We did not prepare such a feast solely for you. Today is a special day for us, a night of feasts for all my soldiers throughout the Hillock.”
    “What might that be for?” Harruq asked. Aurelia winced at how he talked with food in his mouth.
    “Tomorrow we ride to war,” Richard said. Harruq’s eyebrows shot up.
    “Against who?” he asked.
    “In the far southwest of the Hillock lives Sir Harford Kull,” said Richard. “He was a loyal knight once, and I rewarded him handsomely when he was betrothed to my daughter.”
    Richard sighed and put down his cup.
    “The matter is too personal,” he said. “I’m sorry. Sir Kull has gathered men and knights, fostering claims of brutality and murder to create war. Now he marches toward my castle. My patience has ended, and war he shall get. You come on an ill night, your elven grace.”
    Aurelia pushed away her plate.
    “This matter cannot wait,” she said. “Not if what you say is true. Richard… Lord Sully, what news have you heard of Veldaren?”
    Some of the soldiers nearby heard her question and responded.
    “Destroyed by winged men,” one said, laughing.
    “Aye, red men with wolf pets and orc slaves,” said another. “I also heard a seven-headed dragon came out of the sea and swallowed the entire Mordan army.”
    “This is no jest,” Aurelia said, her face flushing. “You must know Veldaren has been destroyed. You are not so far away as that.”
    Richard crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.
    “We’ve heard a few reports, though they are as conflicted as they are ridiculous. Wolf-men roaming the wilderness. Orcs pillaging within the city walls. A legion of undead marching like a proper army. Even worse, I had one merchant claim he saw red men with crimson wings flying among the stars. A poor excuse for abandoning your wares, wouldn’t you say?”
    “They’re true,” Harruq said. “We were there.”
    All around men laughed, then quieted by a single wave of Richard’s finger.
    “You ask me to believe the unbelievable,” Richard said.
    Harruq ignored the men.
    “Karak stirred up the Vile Wedge and led an assault on Veldaren,” he said. “King Vaelor’s dead. Orcs will soon pour over the north unless you do something about it. Whoever this Sir Kull is, I doubt he’s as dangerous as my gray-skinned brethren.”
    The silence that followed was deafening. After a moment, Lord Sully spoke.
    “Your story sounds more like a bad dream than truth,”