The crystal shattered against the stone mantle of the library fireplace, where they were waiting for word of Grey’s capture, and execution. Bart continued his rant. “Someone must be helping them. Who the hell would defy me, and aid him?” he screamed at Dreyden, who sat patiently sipping his glass of wine, while rolling a coin over the back of his knuckles. He wasn’t paying attention to Bart’s whining rants; they were all the same, and so tiring, so beneath him.
Did they really think that they could fool him, and that he wouldn’t sense cairbare on Elden? His worry was why were they here on Elden, and what were they looking for? Sitting back, he recalled his home, and the longing for the peace of L’Dern makes his heart ache. It was his haven, and it had been so long since that bastard, Joseph Owerth, had convinced those weaklings on the council to oust him from his rightful place. They just didn’t know that he would be back, taking back the control of the council. Maybe he could arrange for a very unfortunate accident to befall Owerth; no sense upsetting the royal family by outright killing him, even though he deserved it for what he had done to him.
The shattering of another glass brought his attention back. Looking around, he sighed with barely restrained disgust. When he had come through the portal, he hadn’t planned on getting stuck here in Elden; he had thought that he would find the grimoire, and head home to wrap up his unfinished business within a couple of days, but it hadn’t quite worked out that way. Somehow, he had become involved with the political intrigue of Elden, and Bart had proven to be a useful pawn in his search for the grimoire. However, he was growing weary of Bart’s childish antics. He wouldn’t have even involved Bart, but after he had met Tyrone, he knew that he would ask too many questions. Using Bart’s hatred of his uncle and cousin, he had pushed him to act.
Things couldn’t have worked out better for the both of them, well for the most part. As the power behind the man, he had at his disposal men that he could send out to search for the grimoire, but so far, it had proven to be elusive.
“Why are you just sitting there?” Bart screamed at Dreyden, who sat up and gave him a look which had Bart scrambling to back track. “I’m sorry, I’m just very upset.”
“Just remember who got you where you are,” Dreyden growled, as he came to his feet, placing the glass on the table. “It doesn’t matter who is helping them,” he told Bart. “Once the trap is sprung, they won’t be able to escape, and we can eliminate them at our leisure. The plan is working, so stop worrying.”
“Yes,” Bart purred, his eyes going glassy, as he zoned out. “The plan is working, and they will rue the day they attempted to cross me, the king of Elden. I will make them pay with their lives.”