He paused and looked around the table, head shaking in apparent disbelief. “I ride all over the Preymoor and Bitratus Hills to get here, and all I see are deer and rabbits. Yet you send your men into my realm to hunt, pushing the food out. They no longer fear the openness. They fear the forest.”
“As they should,” said one of the Dreamers. “It has taken us years to get these animals trained out of there.”
Draven’s jaw clenched and Aydra heard his knuckles crack above the table in his tightened fists. “You admit you are trying to starve us and the Noctuans then.”
The Dreamer, Ash, said nothing in response, and instead his gaze flickered to Rhaif. Rhaif’s nostrils flared impatiently, and he held a lazy hand up to Ash to quell his words.
“No one is saying such, Venari,” Rhaif said in a calm tone. “We merely ask that you—”
“How exactly do you expect me to control them?” Draven asked, his arms crossing over his chest.
“Send your men on hunts and ensnare their meals for them,” Rhaif smarted, “Just take care of it.”
A great bellow of a laugh emitted from Draven’s lips. “You want me to hand feed them?” he mocked. He shook his head and leaned forward again, the play of a sarcastic smirk playing on his lips. “Perhaps I’d be better giving them the location of this castle. Let them have a taste of royal blood.”
Rhaif lunged out of his seat, but Aydra shoved him back down.
“Not here,” she hissed at him.
A glint of amusement rose in Draven’s gaze, and he relaxed in his chair once more. Rhaif straightened his high collared black and shining gold long shirt and cleared his throat. His eyes flickered around the room, annoyance clearly still settled in his core.
Aydra sat forward and clenched her fists over the table. “Ash, Haut, can you not hunt in the Preymoor for the next few weeks? Or focus on fishing in our own backyard?” she asked of them.
Ash and Haut exchanged a look that she wasn’t quite sure how to take. They looked down at the end of the table towards the Venari, and then back to Aydra.
Ash finally gave her a nod. “We’ll increase the fishing parties. Give our men a shake up of their routine.”
“Thank you,” Aydra declared triumphantly. “Now, what else can I straighten out before my brother finds his voice again?”
A nervous chuckle radiated around the room. Her eyes found Draven’s across the room, and he gave her a silent nod of appreciation, one that had never happened before.
It wasn’t that she had any sort of soft spot for him, but his creatures, the Noctuans, were another story. The Noctuans were creatures who only were able to hunt during the Dead Moons, or when the moons vanished for a fortnight and complete darkness took over the land. A misunderstood group of creatures. They were feared by most because of not only their appearance, but because most were blood thirsty—which who could blame them if they were only allowed out to hunt four times a year.
“And as a last matter,” Rhaif said as he sat up, “there is the need to discuss the pests suddenly running amuck in our streets.” His eyes flickered across the table, and Draven’s head tilted just noticeably as every other person in the room turned to look at him.
Draven’s eyes darted around the room. “I am here because I am requested, not to run amuck in your streets as you say,” he stated, clearly confused as to why they were all staring at him.
“It was our understanding that you took care of the Infi upon their births,” said a councilman. “Tell us why then we have had to behead two within the last month.”
Draven sat up in his chair. “You’ve found Infi… here… in Magnice?”
“And in our towns,” said one of the Nobles as he nodded towards the other three ambassadors.
“Would you like to see their heads?” asked Ash.
“Is this of your doing?” asked the councilwoman Reid. “Another ploy of a Venari King attempting to take over this realm as so many of your past Kings have done?”
Draven’s nostrils flared. “If you’ve Infi in your streets, it is by no doing of mine.” He looked between them apprehensively then, as though trying to figure out if they were serious. “I should hope you threw their entire bodies into the Bitratus Hills,” he said with a squint of his brows.
“And why is that?”
“Because unless you did, they will come back.”
The words stalemated in the room.
“I’m sorry,” Aydra found her voice. “They what?”
Draven’s jaw clenched and he pressed his hands together. “Their bodies must be taken by Duarb’s roots. Until their bodies leave this realm for one that his roots can reach and consume their bones back into the earth, they will keep coming back. You’ve probably killed the same one each time.”
