A man dressed like a soldier knelt before Talah, fist on stone, “My Queen.”
“Yes? You may speak.” said Talah.
“The Queen’s Regiment is no more.”
Talah collapsed into her chair. Her entire army was defeated after a single battle? It didn’t seem real. It didn’t feel real. Coldbloom might be dead. And Alte. And Bud. Ricktor…
She needed the head of her Conor more than ever.
“What happened?”
The man bowed his head, “You may not believe me, but I swear everything I have to say is true. Lord Glove met them on the battlefield with golems.”
Talah must have misheard him. It sounded like he had said golems. “Golems? What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. Golems. The creatures of legend walk again. Somehow Lord Glove has won mastery over at least fifty of them. I’ve never seen such terrible power.”
Talah clutched the sides of her chair until her knuckles turned white, “I’m sorry for the interruption, go on.”
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Her spy wiped at his eyes where tears had formed, “Coldbloom and Ricktor were ready to surrender. I-I don’t know what happened next. I was leaving to meet with the Chosen. Separately from Coldbloom’s orders, just to make sure everything was… It doesn’t matter. I heard screaming and so I turned back and watched from the woods. They slaughtered them all. I hid so I could bring you my report. I came here as soon as possible, though I still wish I had died on that battlefield. I don’t know if there were any survivors.”
Lord Glove had taken her father from her. Now he took her people. Her friends and advisors. And there was nothing she could do. Her father had told her about the Burned City. Ten golems was all it took to end a kingdom. She had to stop fifty. It was too much to ask of her.
Talah curled forward, about to put her head in her hands when she noticed that the man dressed like a soldier was still standing there. She dismissed her own concerns and forced herself to sit taller in her chair. She was about to dismiss him when he spoke again.
“There is something else. More bad news. I received word this morning before seeing you. Vesper is dead. The location of her treasures is lost.”
“Dead?” Talah nearly broke then. Even her spy’s presence wasn’t enough. She stared straight ahead, pretending that tears weren’t falling down her face.
“I’m sorry, My Queen. I should have set a better watch on her. I’ll do my best to find the assassin.”
“You won’t have to look far,” Talah snarled, “It was Lord Glove. It’s always Lord Glove. There’s your assassin.”
The man dressed like a soldier bowed low, “I cannot grieve as much as you, but still I grieve. And even in my grief I must say, that the assassin was not Lord Glove. He would have had to have been leading his army at the time.”
Talah wanted to scream at him. She wanted to hit him. For a third time she mastered herself, “Leave me.”
“Of course, My Queen.”