Fallon finally stopped his back and forth walk and looked to his advisor.
“People believe she’s special. The Elvin sword Tanith, the gift from the elves on the day of her birth has made people suspicious.”
“What are the words of peasants worth?”
“Nothing as far as I’m concerned, but rumors are rumors, and they spread quickly. If she has heard any whisperings of the Tanith Prophecy, she will believe it, that I’m sure of. Her biggest flaw is her love and respect for the people of this realm. She’ll do anything for them, and they for her.”
“Anyone who chooses to stand against you does so at their own risk.”
He waved his hand as if in dismissal. “Yes, yes, but it will be difficult to convince them all.”
“We don’t need everyone, only enough to hold back whatever army Kevaan thinks can stand against us. The rest of the work will be done by your chosen followers. Have you finished learning your incantation yet?”
“No, I’m too busy trying to find the girl that managed to slip past you.”
“I could’ve followed her into the river, but that would give me away. Everyone knows a wraith cannot stand water.”
“I’m not concerned about what commoners think they know about anything.” He rubbed his eyes. “Go out and track her again. I want her back, Jaron, at all costs.”
“I doubt she would’ve survived her fall into the river, My Lord,” Jaron said but did not believe it.
“I don’t doubt anything, Jaron, that is precisely why I’m going to be the leader of the new world. If she’s truly the Chosen One, a jump into the river is nothing. She’s resilient and smart, and her brother taught her well. Go out there and bring her back. If you fail again, I may be tempted to send you back to whence you came. I brought you here to help me in my cause, not give me excuses. Find her.”
Jaron’s eyes blazed red for a moment. He hated being told what to do by this simpleton. I need him, he reminded himself. Jaron would wait until the right moment, then Fallon too would suffer with the rest of them. It was He who gave Fallon the insight to bring Jaron back from the dark. He who is giving him the insight to conjure up the rest of the armies from hell to walk among the living. Their master needed a human form to do that, and Fallon was just stupid enough to manipulate, and greedy enough to bend to his will.
Jaron took a deep calming breath, his eyes resuming their normal color. He would have to wait; it was not time yet. He would have to endure taking orders from this man until his real master told him it was time. For now, he would do what was asked. Fallon was right on one thing; they did need the woman to complete the link. She would indeed need to bare a son, and then Fallon, like the woman, would no longer be needed. Jaron would wait, just as his master expected.
“Yes, My Lord. I will find her.” He bowed to Fallon and swept out of the room, a frigid breeze blowing passed Fallon as he left in a swirl of cape.
Fallon shivered in the cold, a small twinge of death shrouding him, almost as a warning. He should not test Jaron so, he knew, but he wanted Melenthia and his lust and power hungry soul was in charge most of the time. He must try harder to control his anger and his demands on the creature. Beings such as Jaron were unpredictable and if pushed too far could turn on him. He swallowed back the fear and remembered that it was him that brought Jaron up from the depths in the first place. He was the master, Jaron merely a puppet. His fear went away as he rubbed his chin in contemplation of what was to come.
Getting rid of King Randor would be easy. He was old and his resolve was weak. Kevaan, on the other hand, would prove more difficult. So far, he had not been able to push him, and he was afraid it might prove difficult for Jaron as well. A wraith works on fear and doubt, and Kevaan seemed to have neither. But, he also had a weakness. Melenthia. He loved his sister like no one else, cared about her more than anything. He would do anything for her. That might prove useful later. For now he would concentrate on keeping Randor under his thumb.
He also thought about Dainard on the other side of the kingdom. He knew that he wasn’t the greatest king, but he was empathetic to his people, and he was young and strong. His army was larger than Randor’s, and that may prove more of a challenge if Dainard chose to stand against him. He seethed. He would stand against him, that he knew. Taking over his realm would be harder than taking over Randors. It was bigger, but it was also guarded better. Dainard had bigger coffers than Randor and had more border patrol and guardsmen than Randor. He had eyes everywhere. He kicked a chair across the room, his fists balled up, scowl marking his dark face.