Mage Prime (Book 2) by B.J. Beach

make some of these cloth-heads realise that this is a very real danger?”
    Before either of them had chance to reply, the clear voice of the floor attendant rang out. “Minister Allyn has a question.”
    Vailin was about to smile graciously then thought better of it. The behaviour of his ministers was beginning to jar more nerves than usual. He scowled instead. “We will hear Minister Allyn.”
    With a spiteful glint in his pale eyes, the minister rudely pointed a bony finger in Karryl’s direction. “Do I recall him saying that our own Sergeant Vintar killed one of these things?”
    Karryl’s scowl matched Vailin’s as he stood to answer. “That’s correct. But he couldn’t have done…”
    “So, as it had already been proved to you that they can be killed with blades, why did you find it necessary to risk the use of magic?”
    He gave a self-satisfied nod, and a couple of the more ardent dissenters deliberately crossed the room to pat him on the back. His glory was short-lived.
    Venson, the minister whose fine buttons Allyn now sported on his drab waistcoat, stepped forward and planted his not inconsiderable fist squarely on Allyn’s nose. A great gasp filled the room. His face contorted with pain and shocked surprise, the almost skeletal form of Allyn toppled like a felled sapling into his little gang of cronies. As if to confirm an old adage concerning appearances, minister Allyn furiously disengaged himself from his supporters. Spattering blood everywhere, arms flailing, he flew at Venson. Such was the strength of his retaliation, his unexpected power-charge into Venson’s broad chest sent the pair of them hurtling two paces backwards through the air. The back of Venson’s head struck the floor with a resounding crack. Allyn sprawled across him in a scrabbling heap.
    King Vailin leapt to his feet, his incensed roar reverberating across the room. “Prime Minister! Will you get your unruly house in order this instant!”
    All at once it seemed as if the whole room was in motion. Karryl jumped down from the dais and pushed his way through to the side of the unmoving Venson. Eager hands pulled the gasping and dishevelled Allyn to his feet. From the far side of the chamber, where he had spent the entire meeting engaged in deep conversation, a portly red-faced balding man of middle height, escorted by two armed and helmed guards, elbowed his way through the circle of loudly protesting ministers.
    Arriving at the site of the melee, he waved his pudgy arms around. “Get back, all of you. This is a disgraceful display! Call yourselves ministers of the crown? I’ll have you all removed from office!”
    His voice like knives, Vailin called down from the dais. “Look to your own office, Prime Minister. We take a very dim view of this kind of behaviour.”
    Karryl, who had been kneeling beside Venson, stood up slowly and looked up towards Evalin. With a glance towards the inscrutable Agmar, she left her seat on the dais and crossed the room to stand beside Karryl.
    He looked into her deep blue eyes, his voice subdued and regretful. “I think Minister Venson is dead.”
    Kneeling beside the fallen man, Evalin placed her fingers against his throat for a moment. She then gently lifted each eyelid in turn. Looking up over her shoulder at Karryl, she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head and raised one eyebrow. Before anybody realised what was happening she had grasped each of Venson’s hands in her own and uttered a short phrase. Bands of violet and silver shimmered around them, the air itself seemed to quiver, and the pair vanished. A deathly hush fell over the chamber as stunned onlookers were left staring at a vacant space on the floor. Beads of perspiration glistening on his short upper lip and smooth, rounded forehead, the Prime Minister hurried to stand in front of the steps to the dais.
    After bowing low, he addressed King Vailin. “Your Majesty. I deeply regret this incident and offer my most sincere