XXIIMeanwhile, the message sent by Ziglan had been delivered to the High Priestess, who was already en route to pay homage to the King for his victory. What the scroll told her stoked her wrath, and she spurred her horse into a mad gallop. When she reached Olennon, she dismounted, and the poor beast collapsed to the ground, moaning until it died.
“Where is he!?” she shrieked. “Where is my son!?”
Athal turned up before her. “Follow me.”
The king led her outside the fort, where the funeral pyre had been situated.
At the sight of her son’s body, Yvalee let loose against him. “YOU! The youngest of my children has died due to YOUR negligence!”
She approached the pyre, the pain threatening to lacerate her heart. Her screams echoed through the Bitter Fields and the fort—a screech so loud and
