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And why did he want to explore them all?
Since pacing didn’t wake her, he headed down to visit Lomar, the man he would usually go to when agitated. Despite the commotion outside, his guards had remembered to put Lomar in chains when night fell. Kormac entered to find his friend standing, looking out the window.
Only when he turned to face Kormac, it wasn’t his friend looking out of the eyes. “What a pity you survived my surprise.”
“You sent the dragons?” Kormac barked.
“Hardly sent. Those wild things tend to do what they want, but they are open to suggestions, especially when it involves food.”
“Your attack failed.” Kormac offered a flat reply.
“Did it? Where is the witch? Did the dragons eat her?” Asked with a malicious grin.
“She’s resting after killing three by herself. I see why you’re scared of her. She’s quite powerful.”
The thing hissed. “She is nothing. A weak weaver of threads, nothing more.”
“Yet you want her dead.”
“As should you. Airiok was right, you know. The only good witch is a dead one.” It cackled, repeating what his men had said earlier.
It led to him frowning. “What do you know of Airiok?”
“The stable boy turned warlord. The shit shoveler turned killer.” It giggled.
“He’s the one who had you locked away.”
“Not he, but his wife. She was magnificent and could have been so much more had she ditched her husband. Do your histories tell how she was the one to push him to take control of the territories?”
“Airiok’s wife Elaine didn’t marry him until he’d been established for more than a decade,” Kormac corrected the entity.
“Not that milksop. His first wife. Laurella.”
Kormac frowned. “I’ve never heard her mentioned.”
“Because Airiok didn’t want anyone to know what she’d done. If they knew the truth, they would have strung him up by the heels.” The thing in Lomar’s body chuckled.
“What did his first wife do?”
“What didn’t she do? Pity you lost his journal. It would have answered all your questions.”
A rigid Kormac growled, “What do you know of the journal? Who took it?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Tell me.” Kormac stood nose to nose with Lomar. His arms tingled at being so close.
“Going to beat me? Go ahead. I won’t feel a thing, but your friend will.”
“Argh.” Kormac stalked off as the thing laughed and laughed.
He exited the dungeon and debated checking on Fionna, but he heard raised voices. One sounded suspiciously like his mother. It shouldn’t have surprised she’d rushed back given the attack.
He entered the dining hall to hear his mother holding court. “…shall demand she be removed immediately. There is no place for witches and their wicked magic in our territory,” his mother yelled, and while many chose to not react, some cheered and slammed their tankards in agreement.
Before he could rebuke his mother, Lady Frieda—who rarely came to the citadel—swept into view of the head table, spitting, “That witch saved the city and its citizens.”
“She’s the reason why the dragons are here,” his mother rebutted.
