Chapter 7 - The Council of Traitors
The morning sun had barely crested the high eastern spires of the Royal Palace of Eldoria.
Inside the Grand Council Chamber, the atmosphere was suffocating with quiet apprehension.
Fourteen regional lords and provincial governors sat along the massive polished mahogany table.
None of them spoke.
Each man glanced nervously at the empty high-backed chair carved with the royal dragon crest at the head of the table.
For nearly twenty years, that seat had remained empty while Duke Langley ruled as Lord Regent.
On the table before each lord lay a parchment bearing an identical royal seal stamped in red wax.
The summons had arrived in the dead of night, delivered by armed veterans of the Royal Guard.
The message was brief and terrifying: Attend the morning council or be declared an enemy of the Crown.
Count Julian of the East fidgeted with his gold signet ring, his forehead glistening with a sheen of cold sweat.
"What are we supposed to do?" Julian whispered to Baron Dennis sitting to his left.
"George Langley is in chains, the duchess is in the deep cells, and an orphan girl commands Rowan’s guard," Julian fretted.
"If we acknowledge her, Malakar will burn our estates when he arrives from the north," Dennis replied under his breath.
"And if we refuse her, Rowan will have our heads mounted on the river bridge before sunset," Lord Kenneth muttered grimly.
The heavy carved oak doors of the chamber swung open with a resounding thud.
Two sentries stepped inside, their poleaxes striking the marble floor in unison.
"Her Royal Majesty, Queen Elena of House Valerius!" the herald announced in a clear, ringing voice.
The lords scrambled to their feet, chairs scraping harshly across the floor.
Elena walked into the chamber with a predatory grace that commanded the room in a single second.
She did not wear the extravagant velvet robes of the late court.
She wore a fitted riding tunic of black wool reinforced with dark leather spaulders over her shoulders.
At her hip hung the ancient broadsword recovered from the palace armory.
Upon her finger gleamed the heavy red-gold ring of the First Sovereigns.
Behind her walked High Chancellor Vane, carrying a thick stack of archival treaties.
Princess Celestine followed closely behind, dressed in a modest gown of pale blue silk, her eyes fixed upon her sister's back.
Elena did not waste time with courtly greetings.
She walked directly to the head of the table, pulled out the heavy oak chair, and sat down.
Her piercing amber eyes swept over each lord in the room, lingering on their uneasy faces.
"Sit," Elena commanded.
The fourteen lords sat down instantly, their backs rigid against the wooden carvings.
"My lords," Elena began, her voice steady and clear as a ringing bell.
"Twenty-four hours ago, you believed this kingdom was yours to carve into pieces," Elena said.
"You watched Lady Victoria Langley strike me across the face in the Great Hall, and not one of you moved a finger," she observed.
Count Julian cleared his throat, his face turning pale red.
"Your Majesty, we did not know your true identity...
the confusion was immense," Julian stammered.
"You knew she was striking a defenseless servant carrying a sacred relic," Elena interrupted coldly.
"In Eldoria, justice is not reserved only for those who wear crowns," she continued.
"When you permit cruelty against the lowest in your realm, you forfeit the right to govern the high," Elena declared.
The lords lowered their heads, unable to withstand the weight of her gaze.
Elena leaned forward, resting her forearms against the polished mahogany.
"Now, let us speak of practical matters," Elena continued.
"Lord George Langley was captured at the river gate while trying to flee with the royal treasury," she stated.
"Three hundred thousand gold crowns have been recovered and returned to the city vaults," she revealed.
A collective sigh of relief, mixed with dread, rippled through the provincial governors.
"However," Elena said, her tone sharpening like an iron blade.
"Duke Malakar has mobilized six regiments of heavy cavalry in the northern crags," she noted.
"He claims that the throne of Eldoria is vacant due to an illegitimate coup," she added.
"He has sent riders demanding that this council open the northern gates to his vanguard tomorrow evening," she revealed.
Lord Kenneth stood up, his voice trembling slightly.
"Your Majesty, Malakar’s host is formidable," Kenneth argued.
"His cavalry is backed by mountain mercenaries from the border clans," he warned.
"The palace garrison has only eight hundred men fit for heavy combat," Kenneth pointed out.
"If we fight him on the open plains of the Lower Valley, we will be slaughtered," he warned.
Elena smiled, but there was no warmth in the expression.
"Who said anything about fighting on the open plains, Lord Kenneth?" Elena asked.
She reached out and unrolled a large hand-drawn map of the capital and the surrounding riverways.
"For seven years, I was assigned to clean the drainage tunnels beneath the northern aqueduct," Elena explained.
The lords exchanged puzzled, uneasy glances.
"Those tunnels connect directly to the sluice gates of the Great Northern Reservoir," Elena continued, pointing her finger at the map.
"The reservoir has been filled to its absolute brim by the autumn rains," she explained.
"Malakar believes the eastern valley road is the only pathway suitable for his heavy warhorses," Elena revealed.
"He will march his five thousand lances through the narrow river gorge at sunrise," she predicted.
"And when his vanguard is trapped between the stone cliffs," Elena said softly.
"We will raise the sluice gates," she declared.
The room went dead silent.
The lords looked at the map, then at Elena, realizing the sheer, brutal brilliance of the trap.
"You will drown them in the canyon?" Julian gasped, his eyes wide with horror and awe.
"I will drown his warhorses, his siege engines, and his arrogance," Elena corrected.
"The men who survive will find Captain Rowan’s infantry waiting at the canyon exit," she added.
"Now, I have a single question for this council," Elena said, standing to her full height.
She drew the ceremonial dagger from her belt and drove it two inches deep into the center of the map.
"Are you lords of Eldoria, sworn to the blood of the dragon?" Elena demanded.
"Or are you northern lackeys waiting for a butcher to put collars around your necks?" she asked.
High Chancellor Vane was the first to rise from his chair.
The old man bowed deeply toward Elena.
"The archives recognize the true heir," Vane proclaimed.
"House Vane stands with the Queen!" he shouted.
Count Julian stood next, followed by Baron Dennis, and within seconds, all fourteen lords were on their feet.
"We stand with the Queen!" they shouted in unison.
Elena looked at the assembly, her face calm and unyielding.
"Good," Elena said.
May you like
"Now summon the engineers, mobilize the city watch, and bar the lower gates," she ordered.
"Tonight, we prepare to break Duke Malakar’s back," Elena proclaimed.
