A short extract from the Second Chapter
by D. Milnes Sinclair.
Baizal's Funeral
Noticing Valcour’s total lack of response, Seligor reached across and touched his arm; Valcour started and drew himself away from his brother’s touch.
“Don’t do that, don’t you dare touch me again, I heard what the old goat said,” he hissed through closed teeth, whilst he wiped the sleeve of his gown where Seligor had touched him as though there was dirt on it. He leant forward and stared once more at Yodroth.
“Will what be to my liking?” He shouted spraying spit all over the table. Yodroth frowned staring at the spittle as it collected in little globules over the polished surface. Yodroth placed his talons on the table. “It would seem, My Lord Valcour, that staying in Thordoy has done nothing to enhance your manners, not to mention damaging your hearing, but I will repeat my question. I asked, will you return to Chirron and rule at your brother’s side?” Val’s eyes flashed instantly as though the question asked had triggered off a remote control unit in his brain. “Sit at which side, old man?” he asked almost coyly. Yodroth looked at him trying very hard to understand what the young prince wanted him to say. “What do you mean which side?” he asked quietly yet deliberately. “Well, O Ancient One, I’ve only got two sides, the right and the left.” Val snorted. “I can’t see any more than two sides, can you old man? Yodroth drew in his breath and placed the parchment on the table. “In that case my lord, I am asking you will you return to Chirron and rule at your brother’s right hand?”
“Ha! I knew it, Salenas said it would be like this, and he was right.” Val shouted at the top of his voice throwing his arms in the air. A deadly hush fell over the chamber; Valcour could feel their eyes looking at him. “A long time since I had an audience,” he thought. “This could be quite a
play.” He spread his huge talons on the table and began to rise; as he pulled himself up off the slab he dug his claws deep into the tabletop. Seligor watched as his long nails sank easily into the hardened wood. It was difficult to believe how much they had grown, much, much longer than was normal for a Serraph Dragon, he sighed deeply, what has happened to this brother of mine?”
The sound filled the chamber as each nail gouged a deep furrow into the table’s surface. Realizing that Seligor was staring at him he slowly turned to face his brother, and for a brief moment Seligor felt the urge to move away, the hate in Valcour’s eyes spoke chapters. He checked himself and stood up to face his younger brother, neither moved, and then Seligor leant forward and whispered in Valcour’s ear. “Put one foot wrong Val, and brother or not, I’ll keep you here as my prisoner, till the end of your days.”
“Don’t do that, don’t you dare touch me again, I heard what the old goat said,” he hissed through closed teeth, whilst he wiped the sleeve of his gown where Seligor had touched him as though there was dirt on it. He leant forward and stared once more at Yodroth.
“Will what be to my liking?” He shouted spraying spit all over the table. Yodroth frowned staring at the spittle as it collected in little globules over the polished surface. Yodroth placed his talons on the table. “It would seem, My Lord Valcour, that staying in Thordoy has done nothing to enhance your manners, not to mention damaging your hearing, but I will repeat my question. I asked, will you return to Chirron and rule at your brother’s side?” Val’s eyes flashed instantly as though the question asked had triggered off a remote control unit in his brain. “Sit at which side, old man?” he asked almost coyly. Yodroth looked at him trying very hard to understand what the young prince wanted him to say. “What do you mean which side?” he asked quietly yet deliberately. “Well, O Ancient One, I’ve only got two sides, the right and the left.” Val snorted. “I can’t see any more than two sides, can you old man? Yodroth drew in his breath and placed the parchment on the table. “In that case my lord, I am asking you will you return to Chirron and rule at your brother’s right hand?”
“Ha! I knew it, Salenas said it would be like this, and he was right.” Val shouted at the top of his voice throwing his arms in the air. A deadly hush fell over the chamber; Valcour could feel their eyes looking at him. “A long time since I had an audience,” he thought. “This could be quite a
play.” He spread his huge talons on the table and began to rise; as he pulled himself up off the slab he dug his claws deep into the tabletop. Seligor watched as his long nails sank easily into the hardened wood. It was difficult to believe how much they had grown, much, much longer than was normal for a Serraph Dragon, he sighed deeply, what has happened to this brother of mine?” The sound filled the chamber as each nail gouged a deep furrow into the table’s surface. Realizing that Seligor was staring at him he slowly turned to face his brother, and for a brief moment Seligor felt the urge to move away, the hate in Valcour’s eyes spoke chapters. He checked himself and stood up to face his younger brother, neither moved, and then Seligor leant forward and whispered in Valcour’s ear. “Put one foot wrong Val, and brother or not, I’ll keep you here as my prisoner, till the end of your days.”
