Chapter 4: The Raven's Message and the Lion's Reply
The clang of the outer gate bell, followed by the guard's breathless report, shattered the remnants of breakfast's forced calm. The hall, moments before filled with the brittle tension of unspoken judgments, now hummed with a different kind of energy: the sudden, sharp shock of war.
Earl Dunnel Adraels rose from his chair, his gaze sweeping over his children. His usual composed authority had a new, grim edge. "A Tidorian attack," he rumbled, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "So soon." He looked at Don, a question in his eyes.
Don didn't flinch. He pushed his chair back, the scrape against the stone floor a loud declaration. "They mistake a quick departure for a weakness, Father. Valerius Tidor's humiliation last night was not an isolated incident; it was a challenge. And now, his father, Ekarvel, makes his reply." His gaze met Caria's across the table, a silent understanding passing between them. The Black Flame within him thrummed, eager, ready. Caria's emerald eyes glowed with a similar, fierce readiness.
"Shadowfen Pass is a choke point," Asdrin, ever the strategist, interjected, stepping forward. "A narrow, winding road between the Gorgon's Mire and the coastal cliffs. If Tidor's scouts are there, it's a probe. They're testing our readiness, our response time."
Medrin, always eager for action, clenched his fists. "Then we send a detachment! Ride them down before they can report back."
"Too simple," Lady Lyanna murmured, her eyes fixed on Don. "And too reactive. Ekarvel Tidor is a wolf. He probes with a purpose."
Don remained silent, his eyes fixed on the map, then on Caria. He could feel the latent power within her, the raw lightning she held. He also felt the deep, steady hum of the Black Flame within himself, offering him insights, possibilities.
"A cavalry charge is a lion's roar," Don said finally, his voice calm, "but a serpent's bite is often more effective. This is not a battle for a company. This is a message for a single blade."
All eyes turned to him.
"Commander Veyeb," Don continued, looking directly at the seasoned warrior. "How many men and their Black Horned Lion mounts can you spare that know Shadowfen Pass like their own hand? Men who are swift, silent, and capable of operating independently?"
Stagri Veyeb's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Twelve, perhaps. My daughter, Leinara, and her lioness, Umbra, among them. She knows those passes blindfolded."
"Perfect," Don nodded. "And can they be ready to ride within the hour? Cloaked, with no banners, no identifying marks beyond the very beasts they ride. They are ghosts who carry thunder."
"For what purpose, my son?" Dunnel asked, a hint of unease in his voice.
Don looked at Caria, a shared, dangerous glint in their eyes. "To strike the serpent, Father. Not merely to drive them off, but to *mark* them. To send them back to Emberstone with a message engraved in their very souls." He turned back to the map, a grim smile touching his lips. "Caria and I will go with them. She will ride Blizzard, and I will ride Onyx."
A stunned silence fell.
"You?" Earl Dunnel boomed, rising fully. "Your newly wedded bride? And your Black Horned Lion? To a scout skirmish? It's madness!"
"It's strategy," Caria countered, stepping forward to stand beside Don, her hand resting lightly on his arm. The gesture was both a challenge and a statement of absolute unity. "Tidor believes he insulted a boy. We will show him he insulted a queen. And her king."
Lady Lyanna, who had been watching the exchange with keen interest, finally spoke, her voice soft but firm. "My lord, perhaps there is wisdom in this. A lightning strike where they expect a lumbering reply. It will be remembered."
Earl Dunnel stared at Don, then at Caria, seeing not just impetuous youth, but a unified, terrifying force. The weight of their combined power, so palpable in the bridal suite, was now equally evident in the war room. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him, that he no longer commanded a boy. He commanded a rising power, one that had just been forged.
"Very well," Dunnel said, his voice heavy with the gravity of the decision. "Commander Veyeb, assemble your best. Don, Caria… this is not a probe. This is our reply. Make it definitive."
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Barely an hour later, fourteen figures, cloaked in the drab greens and grays of northern rangers, moved like shadows through the pre-dawn mist outside Adraels Keep. Don rode at the head, clad in dark, functional leathers beneath a travel cloak, the Flamebound Medallion a steady, warm presence against his chest. His Black Horned Lion, Onyx, moved with silent, powerful grace, its dark fur absorbing the meager light. Caria rode beside him on her magnificent Horned White Tiger, Blizzard, its ghostly white pelt shimmering faintly in the gloom, her lightning staff secured at her back. Leinara Veyeb, her dark hair braided tight, rode silently behind them on Umbra, her sleek Black Horned Lioness, her hand never far from the hilt of her sword. Her father, Commander Veyeb, led the remaining ten of the chosen elite riders, each on their own formidable Black Horned Lion mount.
As they rode, the rising sun painted the eastern sky in hues of orange and violent red—colors that mirrored the twin fires now stirring within the young lord and his formidable queen. The first kaibigan lang pablade of the Obsidian Court was drawn, and it would leave its mark on the dawn.