Prince Amir listened intensely to his informers. He had waited so long for the moment to kill his sister and her villagers that he was now getting impatient. He had killed many men over the years who had not fulfilled his satisfaction of producing an army that was merciless and evil. The time to take his sister was now brewing in his veins.
He sat scowling at the men who sat around the table in the great hall hoping that they had at last found his men and the mission could begin.
“Can I presume that this army of yours is capable of killing and that they will not run in the opposite direction?” Amir enquired in an authoritative manner.
“Indeed they are,” replied General Pinnah, a tall man, with muscles built like mountain peaks on his body and had the continual look of death printed on his hardened ginger, bearded face. “This army is not cowering down to pathetic objects of any sort.”
“Are you aware that Frinda is to be banished? I want all that lives there, be child or elder, killed by the hands of this army,” Amir snarled with a wry smile appearing on his heavily scarred face.
“Yes Master. I know how you wish to massacre the village,” General Pinnah agreed, his face looking devious at the thought of death fast approaching.
Amir stood up from his chair looking at each of the eight informers who sat before him, around a long, rectangle oak table in the large, stone room. The tall, wide window in the great hall was no use to the councillor’s, as the black sky and storms gave no light to those sitting in the room with a prince, who showed just as much darkness as the outside of their kingdom did.
“Soon, the war will begin and I have many men who wish to join us in this battle. Many are from kingdoms that are not too far to transit to us. I will be informing them of our itinerary, once confirmation of the war is agreed on,” Amir said in a voice that sounded deep and sinister. “Julu A’ Vanda has taught many new wizards and witches to assist her in killing Lidah, and her wretched team of amateurs. This war will end no sooner than it has begun and the Kingdom of Frinda will be a figment of our imagination.” Amir snarled.
The table of leaders laughed and chanted “Amir” then began banging on the table so loudly that the metal tumblers that they were drinking from crashed to the ground.
Amir sat back in his chair smiling. His once handsome face was now painted in scars, some faint from battles long gone by, and others that still looked new and raw. His eyes that were once blue and shone like sapphire stones, now stood black and empty. His life was of hatred and bitterness and the smell of death was all he found as a pleasurable desire to have. His clothing however, was still of expensive quality. Money was no object for Amir. His killings over the years bought many coins and jewellery to his collection. He did not care how his wealth came, as long as he had it.
People were scared of Amir, including many of his informers. They knew of his way of...