King's Throne(69)

He tried to think fast now about how to proceed. He scanned the room, his gaze alighting on Harold Miller. Harry was a warrior’s warrior. He might be young, but he would easily earn the respect of any Royal Guard for his skill and courage. He could be of great help here. He also had a mind for strategy that was unmatched among the Old Guard he’d met and worked with.
“Harry,” Mitch spoke the younger man’s name in a firm voice. Harry came over promptly. “Helga, this is Harold Miller. He is a Royal Guard descended from the Old Guard that followed King Frederick into exile. He was taught in the old ways and I have found him to be a warrior of great prowess with a knack for tactics and teamwork. I’d like you to consult together to see what can be done with the Guard.”
Helga nodded. “It will be done.”
They trotted off, already talking about how they would go about reorganizing the Guard corps. They were an odd set—the older female and the young male—but Mitch was pleased to see they seemed to be getting along. He had little doubt about Harry’s skills, but he didn’t know this other group of Guards at all. He’d have to tread carefully with them and trust to Harry’s judgment for now.
Gina put her arm around him and leaned down to rest her chin on his shoulder as he sat at a tempered-glass desk. All the manmade furniture he’d seen in this ice fortress was sleek metal and glass. Ultra-modern in design but not very welcoming. Mitch didn’t like it. It seemed overly pompous to him. And cold. And though the colors were complimentary to the black rock and ice out of which the place was formed, the style was angular and awful. Very jarring and unnatural.
“You’ve had your nose buried in these ledgers for a couple of hours. Is it as bad as it seems?” She kissed his cheek before moving back to sit in the empty rolling chair at his side.
“Worse,” he answered in a voice that only she could hear. He didn’t want to alert everyone to the trouble he’d found from his initial examination of the records. He wanted to have all his ducks in a row before he broke the news to the other members of the Clan. “I’ll have to recheck these figures a few times, but it doesn’t look good.”
“Well, frankly, neither does the rest of the place. Gisli put all my parents’ furniture—what he didn’t sell—in storage. He’s the one who bought all this tacky glass and chrome stuff.” She ran one hand along the glass tabletop. “The good news is I can get most of the old furnishings back, but it’ll take a little while. I talked to all of the household staff and put Maribeth in charge of reorganizing things there. Some of them didn’t want to serve anymore, with good reason. Gisli had abused them and forced at least two of the women into living up here at the stronghold to see to his every whim. The pig.”
Mitch caught her hand and squeezed. “I’m glad he’s dead.”
She moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you won,” she whispered. “I was so afraid…until I realized the mountain was helping you.” She drew back to look into his eyes. “How in the world did you manage that? The volcano stopped erupting when the fight ended.”
“I’m not really sure, but I can feel the mountain in the back of my mind now. Its energy is waiting. And I think…” He considered his words carefully before forging ahead. “I think it’ll come at my call. I think I finally understand that part in the Rule about the power of the fire and ice reserved for the king. I bet your dad had this kind of communion     with the Grim. Actually, I can’t wait to talk to him about it.”
“Well, he’s on his way. I called them as soon as I saw I had a signal.” The phones had been down last night because of the volcanic eruption. The ash plume had wrought havoc with the cell towers. “I wanted to let them know how it turned out, but Dad said he already knew. He’d seen your victory in a vision. They spent the night in a vigil at the stone circle praying for you.”
Mitch was touched by the idea that the king and queen had kept vigil for him.
“They’re coming here?” Mitch was glad. He wanted the title settled once and for all. The sooner the better. Some of the Guards had been calling him sire, and it wasn’t a comfortable fit at all.
“They chartered a plane and are already on their way. They should be here late tonight and they’re bringing most of the Old Guard with them.”
Mitch didn’t even blink at what had to be a huge expense. He knew the exiled king had done well in business over the years.