One man and one guard remained in Westwood Castle’s main hall as mid-day arrived. Abishan paced the hard stone floor, his footfalls echoing along the hall’s sparsely decorated interior as his main guard, Targ, slumped lazily in a chair in the middle of the vast room.
“He’d better pay me,” Abishan muttered to himself.
Targ stood and stared at the chamber’s massive doors that led to the outer world. “He will.”
“When?” Abishan thundered, his voice echoing through the emptiness. “He took my daughter! I want payment!”
The room’s outer doors slowly creaked open, revealing a large cart filled with gold and gems that had been brought to him by some of his men from Thomas. They glistened in the sunlight ribboning in from outside. The reds of the rubies and greens of the emeralds reflected along the inner walls and on the faces of the men themselves. The cart was pulled into the chamber by mules and then four brawny men in tattered clothes lifted up one side of the cart and dumped the treasure to the ground.
Golden coins raced on their edges all about the room before spiraling to rest on the cool stone floor. Abishan walked amongst them as he approached the dowry he had so desired. “What a trade.” He grinned and stepped upon the golden pile. The king reached the mound’s top and kneeled, digging his stubby fingers into the jewels, sending them flowing over his hands as he lifted them to his face to stare into their gleam. “Welcome to my kingdom, my children,” he spoke to them. “We will treat you well here.” With a thrust of his arms Abishan scattered them into the air above.