Key of Living Fire (The Sword of the Dragon) by Scott Appleton Page A

atmosphere changed and they smiled back. “In the midst of this deliberation, I do believe a fog of moodiness has prevailed.” He spread his arms so that his white cloak brightened the room. “Come now, brethren, can we go to God with our petitions if we build walls against one another?”
    Vortain glanced back at Ilfedo and shrugged his shoulders. “I hope you know I am not your enemy, my lord.”
    “I do.” Ilfedo smiled and then raised his glass. “A toast, gentlemen, to Vortain! May he always be as honest with us as he is today. Few counselors dare contradict the Lord Warrior, and few counselors could build such a magnificent city!”
    The men laughed and raised their glasses. Vortain smiled and drank with them.
    Brother Hersis chuckled as the table quieted and then drank deeply from his own glass. “Wow! My congratulations to the house of Vortain for keeping such a fine wine for tonight.” He set his glass on the table and sat down, folding his hands and bowing his head. The delegates closed their eyes with hands folded, and Ilfedo closed his own.
    “Oh, Lord God,” Brother Hersis began. “We are so very thankful for the wonderful things you have blessed us with—the good food and the good lords of our land.”
    The monk’s prayer continued for a few minutes longer. Ilfedo felt the spirit of peace rest in the room. When the prayer ended, Vortain rose from his seat and bowed to him, then excused himself through the door. The remaining delegates shuffled out of the room in short order, leaving Ilfedo alone with the monk in the large room. He gazed out the window as horse-drawn carriages lined up in front of the castle-like mansion. The delegates emerged from the building, many hanging their heads and crossing their arms. Some scratched at the backs of their heads. Others toyed with their wide-brimmed hats. They stepped into the carriages and drove off into the city.
    Brother Hersis stepped up beside him and gazed out over the white and gray city buildings. “Do not fear, my lord. You only said what you believe the Creator is guiding you to do or, rather, prepare for. These men know that even if doubts fill their minds, they will follow you. You are the Lord Warrior. Your word sways the people.”
    “But this is a hard thing to comprehend. It is an impossible situation in my mind and in theirs. They know that even if the desert wind continues to devastate our southern border, it will take years to make significant headway into the Hemmed Land. And it could cease at any time, just as readily as it appeared.”
    The monk stepped over to the table and picked a strip of meat from an untouched dish. “Is that what is bothering you?”
    Ilfedo shook his head, still gazing over the city spires and slate-and-wood rooftops. “How would it be possible?”
    “Possible? With God what thing is not possible?”
    “That is not what I mean.” Ilfedo stood back and gestured out the window. “Look at us. We have grown strong. Unity has brought prosperity, and with it our numbers have grown. How many people do we now sustain in the Hemmed Land? Twenty, thirty, maybe even fifty thousand?”
    The monk smiled. “Closer to fifty, I think.”
    Ilfedo shook his head. “I could not ask fifty thousand people to follow me on a pilgrimage into unknown lands. The warriors under me—their numbers alone stand around fifteen thousand. Somehow, some way, we must remain here. The land is green; the people are happy.”
    Clearing his throat, the monk walked to the door and opened it to reveal the arched hallway beyond. “If it is the comfort of the people that you seek, Ilfedo—if it is the approval of Vortain—then forget the will of God. Yet, if you wish to follow Him, do not look for man’s approval. God will lead, my lord, and you—you must follow.” He bowed and strolled into the hallway, waving as he did so.
    Ilfedo left Vortain’s city little more than an hour later, wearing a hooded cloak to shield his identity from