It was mid-afternoon in the Forest of Quith but felt later under the canopy of dense foliage. Grigori lead a platoon along the path heading south. Next to him was his general Thorgills the Beater, magistrate to the Skullian town of Vile. Thorgills had earned his moniker from a strange method of torture he employed. He used a stick about four-feet long to beat prisoners to death in the town square. He avoided striking the head or breaking bones since severe pain could cause a person to lose consciousness. He literally prolonged the agony as long as he could, beating the person raw for hours if possible before summoning the executioner to finish the job.

Grigori and his troops approached a clearing. The path continued through it and up a small grade back into the dense foliage. The forest masked the approaching force comprised of almost a hundred Strongthorne students along with Galdus Slade, the dean of the academy. Of Mauretanian descent, Slade was dark skinned with fiery brown eyes and the seasoned mien of a formidable warrior. The students in his charge looked young, probably freshmen, but Grigori couldn’t be sure. Both groups stopped upon seeing the other. No one lifted a weapon, waiting for their respective commander’s orders.

Grigori and Slade looked at each other with the hate of sworn enemies. Slade spoke first. “We don’t have to do this here and now.” Though they outnumbered the Skullians more than two to one, his young students were not yet battle tested.

Grigori weighed the situation carefully but pride and hatred persuaded him more than common sense. He nodded at Thorgills.

Thorgills called out, “Battle formation!” His men pulled swords and awaited the call to charge.

The Strongthorne students were divided, roughly half in the clearing and the other half atop the ridge looking down on the clearing. From that second group emerged a lion and a leopard. Grigori looked at the big cats. He focused his attention on the lion whose eyes were ablaze and pierced Grigori’s soul. Thorgills suddenly covered his left cheek with his hand as though he had been stung by a bee. The lion roared and the sound reverberated throughout the forest. Grigori was overcome by the feeling of defeat as well as the inescapable sensation of imminent death. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out.

Grigori awoke from his dream in a cold sweat and sat upright yelling. Two guards stormed into his bedchambers along with his sons Luce and Nephilim. “Father, are you all right?” asked Luce.

It took a few moments for Grigori to regain his bearings but he quickly shook it off for fear of exposing his vulnerability. “Just a dream.” Luce dismissed the guards. He and his brother stayed. As soon as the doors to Grigori’s bedchambers closed, his sons kneeled by the side of the bed.

“Was it one of your prophetic dreams?” asked Nephilim.

Grigori looked at his boys and hesitated. Though his sons had always been fiercely loyal and devoted to him, he didn’t trust them entirely. They were ambitious, much like himself. “Thorgills and I were in the forest with troops and were confronted by a group of Strongthorne students. Slade was with them. There were two beasts in their ranks, big cats. They posed some sort of threat to us.”

“What do you mean by us?” questioned Luce.

Grigori concealed the truth. “Skul, of course. I don’t know how or why.” He changed the subject. “When did you both arrive?”

“We met up at Swordbend Island three days ago and rowed into shore under cover of darkness last night,” said Luce. “We took the backroads here and arrived before dawn.”

“You’re sure no one saw you?” questioned Grigori.

“We took all the necessary precautions,” assured Nephilim. “I am certain we arrived undetected.”

Grigori was pleased. “Very well. Give me a few minutes to dress and I will join you for breakfast.” His sons bowed in turn and left his bedchamber.

Grigori walked to the window and looked out at the rising sun. His dream troubled him though there was nothing he could do about it in the moment.

He would be making several trips into the forest over the ensuing months to unfold his plan that would lead to him becoming ruler of Atlantis. But the dream suggested there may be opposition and it involved students at the academy. He walked to the door and opened it. “Summon Commander Videt,” he said.

“Yes, my lord,” confirmed the lead guard. Commander Videt was his intelligence officer who ran a network of spies throughout all the territories in Atlantis, including Andaar.

Grigori needed information and he needed it quickly.

Next Chapter: Roadtrip to Andaar