Bab 11: Gathering in fear

Kane sat in the suffocating darkness of his chambers, his silhouette barely discernible against the faint glow of dying embers in the hearth. His fingers curled tightly around the armrest of his ornate chair, veins protruding and knuckles white, as though channeling the weight of the wicked thoughts swirling in his mind. His jaw clenched, lips pressed into a thin line, and his piercing eyes seemed to burn through the shadows, cold and unrelenting. The air around him was heavy, oppressive, as if the room itself cowered under his presence.

When Kane summoned Dren, the man appeared almost immediately, his hurried footsteps echoing in the cold, empty corridors outside before he entered and stood at attention. Dren's posture was rigid, his hands clasped behind his back, though his chest heaved slightly from the brisk pace he had kept to respond to the summons. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead despite the chill in the air, and his eyes flicked nervously toward Kane, hesitant yet dutiful.

Before Dren could speak, Kane leaned forward, his movements deliberate, predatory. His voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding. "I want a meeting with every guard and soldier in the kingdom," he ordered, his tone devoid of warmth. "Send ten of your men to assemble them all before nightfall."

Dren flinched ever so slightly at the command, his eyes darting downward as he wet his dry lips nervously. His hesitation was brief but noticeable as he swallowed hard and ventured cautiously, "My lord, if we pull the men from the borders and outposts, the kingdom will be left exposed. It could invite an attack—"

Before Dren could finish, Kane's hand shot up, silencing him. Kane's face darkened, his expression morphing into something both furious and dangerous. His gaze locked onto Dren's, pinning him in place like prey before a predator. "Are you disobeying my orders?" Kane hissed, his voice low and venomous, each word laced with a threat that made the hair on the back of Dren's neck stand on end.

Dren's breath caught in his throat, his face paling as his mouth opened and closed soundlessly for a moment. Kane stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor, and loomed over Dren, his imposing figure casting a long shadow. "If anyone I do not approve of dares to enter this kingdom," Kane continued, his voice rising, "they will pay with their life. And if you question me again, you will pay with yours. Now go. Do as I commanded, or lose your life where you stand."

Dren's head jerked in a stiff nod, his throat bobbing as he swallowed his fear. Without another word, he turned on his heel and hurried out of the chamber, his boots clicking sharply against the stone floor. His breath came in shallow bursts as he moved through the palace, the weight of Kane's words heavy on his shoulders. His jaw was tight, his hands trembling slightly as he barked orders at ten of his men.

The soldiers, though disciplined, exchanged uneasy glances at the unusual command. They knew better than to question an order delivered in Kane's name. The tension was palpable as the ten men dispersed across the kingdom, their movements brisk and purposeful. Each soldier carried the same grim determination, their faces pale but resolute. The air seemed to grow colder as they spread the word, and the name "Kane" whispered from their lips carried a chilling authority that silenced any murmurs of doubt.

As word spread, guards abandoned their posts at gates and towers, their weapons clutched tightly in nervous hands. Some soldiers moved stiffly, their shoulders tense and their gazes darting warily. Others marched with mechanical precision, their faces masks of stoic obedience, though the fear in their eyes betrayed them.

The gathering soldiers filled the palace grounds, their armor clinking softly with each movement. Some fidgeted with their weapons, their fingers tapping rhythmically against the hilts as if seeking reassurance. Others stood stock-still, their expressions blank, their minds racing with unease. Conversations were hushed, fragmented sentences filled with trepidation and speculation. The air was thick with tension, an undercurrent of fear pulsing through the crowd like an unspoken truth.

Kane was late to the meeting, and tension rippled through the air like an unspoken storm. The generals and commanders sat stiffly, their jaws clenched and brows furrowed, their hands twitching against the table in restrained anger. Their eyes darted toward the entrance every few minutes, only to narrow in frustration when no one appeared.

The soldiers stood in uneasy silence, their postures rigid and their eyes shifting nervously between each other. They were just as frustrated, but fear held their tongues. Some shuffled their feet restlessly, while others gripped their weapons tighter, the strain showing in the whiteness of their knuckles. A few exchanged fleeting glances, their expressions a mix of worry and curiosity, but no one dared to voice their thoughts.

After five long, grueling hours, the faint sound of marching footsteps echoed through the air. Heads turned sharply toward the horizon as the rhythmic stomp grew louder. Dren appeared first, his movements sharp and deliberate, exuding a commanding presence. His face was unreadable, but the subtle tension in his jaw suggested impatience. Behind him, the members of the Dark Squad followed in perfect synchronization, their dark armor gleaming ominously under the fading light.

And then there was Kane. His stride was slow yet purposeful, each step carrying an air of authority that silenced even the most restless whispers. His expression was calm, almost unreadable, save for the faint smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips—a smirk that hinted at confidence, perhaps even amusement at the chaos his tardiness had caused. His piercing gaze swept across the gathering, and the weight of his presence was enough to make even the most hardened soldiers shift uncomfortably.

The generals exchanged brief, tense looks, their anger now mingled with a flicker of apprehension. The soldiers straightened instinctively, their breaths hitching as Kane finally approached. Anxiety, curiosity, and a faint undercurrent of fear rippled through the crowd.

At that moment, one question burned in everyone's mind:

What does Kane have in store for us today?