Was this how his life was slated to end? Cut down in his home like a sheep at the slaughter?
He returned to the table and looked down, unseeing, at the page of history. The Deluti had failed long ago to save their King, or defeat the evil of the Dark Lord. Was history about to repeat itself? Had the Elintria succeeded in her mission, and if so, would they arrive in time?
The face of the Lady Floanne filled his vision, and he lost himself in fantasies. If they could only find a way to prove her heritage. The knock on the door shattered his dreams.
“Enter.”
The guard opened the door, leaned in and nodded. “The Queen requests your presence in the audience chamber to great the guests as they arrive. It is time.”
Mathias stared at the closed door long after the guard was gone. The man had actually smiled while shutting the door.
***
Moshere slowed to a stop at the pinnacle of a slight rise in the road, New Bratan spread out before them. The wolves lay down, panting, and Navon took the opportunity to go to each one. Soon they were up on their paws and ready to continue.
The sun hung poised above the horizon, its refection rippled on the surface of the water. Lights came to life throughout the city as daylight fled the darkness. Sitting atop Moshere, who still had not moved, Navon silently nudged his friend. “Moshere?”
The Brother brought his head around to face the young human. “Is this city filled with members of your tribe?”
At Navon’s nod, Moshere shook his head and broke into a run. “Eyes help us!”
Four guards blocked the city gate, crossbows at the ready, and showed no sign of moving. Moshere stopped in a single beam of sunlight that had found its way around the tall buildings. Using what he had just learned, Navon stared at a point above their heads and added a touch of power to his words.
“You dare impede the progress of a Deluti Lord?”
Two men shared a look and lowered their weapons until a sharp command from the officer in charge snapped them back to attention. With narrowed eyes, he studied the well dressed young man who sat on a horse with no reins or saddle, and the pack of wolves sitting calmly to either side.
“I have my orders. No one is allowed through this gate, especially the non-humans.”
Navon focused his mind on the officers’ and asked. “Are your orders worth dying for?”
Eyes wide and struggling to hold his bow steady, the officer turned to the man next to him. The guard dropped his weapon and sprinted back through the gate.
Out of time, Navon urged Moshere forward and called out to the men one last time. “Flee or die.”
Three bows loosed as one. The bolts disappeared in a flash of light, steel heads falling harmlessly to the road. Their leader pulled his sword, but flew backward as a ball of flame struck him in the chest. The last two took off, stripping the uniform coats from their shoulders as they ran.
Navon passed through the gate into the city at a slow walk. Even blind, he could have followed the beacon of evil streaming from the vicinity of the Palace. He also sensed the circle counteracting that evil, and resisted the urge to turn toward the presence of another Deluti. It could only be the Princess from Dahlian. He sent her a word of greeting and continued on.
The gate behind him was now open for his brother and the men. Navon’s next objective was to draw as many of the guard to him, so his friends would have a chance to reach the Palace unseen.
***
Sofia had changed back into her hardened leathers, and returned to the window to stare. The evil coming from the Duke’s mansion could almost be felt. As the High Lord had suggested, she used her influence to push the taint from the area of the inn. Being in constant contact with its foul touch turned her stomach, making it impossible to eat.
She and Ronald had spent time practicing in the close quarters of his room. Sofia would have to rely on her skill with a blade in the upcoming confrontation. She was too new to her power, and the spirit of the amulet was less than forthcoming with answers to her questions. She could feel the power of the storm curled up inside, ready to strike. How many people would die if she lost control?
For the hundredth time, she laid a hand on her former servant’s shoulder, taking comfort in watching Floanne weave needles in and out of the etched design. It was a moment of peace in her otherwise tumultuous life.
From what little Sofia knew of Deluti, it would be near impossible for her to die, but what would happen to Floanne and Ronald if she failed? How long would they survive if she had to flee back to Dahlian?
Ronald checked the edge of his blade one last time and stood, sliding it back in its scabbard. Glancing at the window, he buckled on the sword. “It is time, Sofia. We can wait no longer.”
Sofia’s hand fell away from Floanne and her body stiffened. Wonder and light flashed in her eyes as she smiled at Ronald. “He is here.”
“Who?”
“Navon. He is in the city and drawing the guard to him. The others will not be far behind.”
They ran to the window at the sound of horses outside. Two dozen riders filed past heading for the back of the inn. Sofia and Ronald quickly hugged Floanne and picked up their helmets, ready to meet the men downstairs, when the door crashed open.
Frantic, Emma searched the room and then looked beseechingly at the Princess. “Where is Sebastian, and my cousin?”
“Roll is missing, and Sebastian has been arrested.”
“I must find him!” she cried and spun away. She froze in the middle of the doorway as the power in the Deluti’s voice lashed out.
“Assassin!”
Body quivering and tears running down her face, Emma faced Sofia, eyes blazing.
“You have pledged your life to the Deluti, have you not?”
The Elintria nodded and forced the words past the constriction in her throat. “If Sebastian dies, the pledge is forfeit.” She turned and walked out.
After the door closed softly behind the Princess and Lieutenant, Floanne returned to the table and picked up the needlework. She stood there, unmoving, her eyes blinded by tears.
***
The wolves fanned out ahead, and to either side, passing along images to Navon through Moonlight. Thanks to them, he was prepared when they turned a corner and faced a hastily constructed barricade of overturned wagons. Without slowing, Navon blasted the center wagon. They rode through the flaming gap in the abandoned barricade, Moonlight and Moshere shaking off the smoldering bits of wood raining down.
The bodies of two men, unlucky enough to be near the wagon, lay some distance down the street. The wolves surprised him with images of guards being attacked by groups of locals. Hopefully, that meant Navon would have fewer to face once he reached the Palace.
The force that greeted him by the steps to the main gate was smaller than he had feared, but made up of hardened, older men who would not be easily moved. Navon ignored them as a lone figure in a dark red robe stepped forward. One of the Scarred Mage’s senior sorcerers.
Navon searched out Sofia’s presence and sent her a terse message. “I hope you are close to the galleries. Things are about to get loud.”
“Your game of pretend is at an end, Navon d’Roddell. I will be richly rewarded when I present the amulet to my master.”
The sorcerer possessed power equal to Chaska’s, but more importantly, he was older and wiser, with experience the former apprentice lacked. Navon had no time for word games, and focused on the powerful shield the man had already surrounded himself with.
Afraid he would regret his decision later, Navon pulled out the amulet. A bolt of lightning appeared out of the cloudless sky and struck the weakest point in the shield.
He found out why they called them amulets of focus. The sorcerer simply no longer existed, and the resulting concussion toppled the nearest section of wall circling the Palace. The men who could, stumbled away from the gaping hole left behind. Moshere galloped up the steps while thunder continued to echo throughout the c
ity.
Chapter Twenty Eight ~ Sword of a Deluti
Rafael sat at his favorite window listening to the sounds of the city and watching the lengthening shadows creep across the rooftops. His thoughts as dark as the narrow alleys below, he closed his eyes and sighed. Was this the end for his best friend, Mathias? His father’s last words returned to haunt him. If only there was a way he could warn Sebastian.
Hours had passed while he made and then discarded plans to escape. Attempting to climb out of his upper floor window was out of the question, and he wasn’t a good enough fighter to get past the guard outside his door.
A flash of light in the distance, near the city gate, drew his attention. Not long after, an eruption of flames shot up well inside the city, followed by a boom.
Rafael sat up and concentrated on the area of the fireball when shouting erupted out in the hall. Rushing to the door, he pressed his ear against it, listening. Nothing. He cracked open the door and peered out. The hall was deserted.
He didn’t hesitate. Jerking his cloak from the rack, he sprinted down the stairs and out the back door. His only thought was to get to the inn and warn Sebastian before his father could carry out his threat.
He wasn’t the only one out on the street, and had to hide behind a barrel as a group of hooded men jogged past. Were they the men who Mathias planned on using the tunnel into the Palace? If so, Rafael sent the blessing of the Eyes after them.
Not caring who saw him, he burst through the front door of the inn, and headed for the stairs. His footsteps echoed in the empty room. At the end of the upstairs hall he pounded on Sebastian’s door and called out. When the ogre didn’t answer, Rafael opened the door and glanced inside. No candle was burning, and it was clear the room had been empty for some time.
Unsure what to do next, he turned back to the hall to find a young woman awkwardly holding a small crossbow pointed at his chest.
“Who are you and what do you want with Sebastian?” she demanded, her voice trembling.
“I’m Rafael, and I need to find the ogre. He is in great danger.”
“You are too late. The guard arrested Sebastian earlier today and took him away.”
“Damn my father,” Rafael cursed and tried to think. “There must be something I can do,” he muttered, and started to run past her.
Floanne reached out and grabbed his arm. “Wait! Are you Mathias’s friend? Do you know where they took Sebastian?”
Surprised she knew the Prince, he answered simply, “Yes.”
“Then I’m coming with you. I can’t stay here, alone, not knowing.” She ran back in her room and returned shortly wearing a cloak, hiked up her dress, and they started to run.
“I’m Floanne, by the way.”
He nodded, and then noticed her empty hands. “No crossbow?”
“I don’t really know how to use it. Do you?”
“No.”
Out of breath, they safely reached the open door to the secret tunnel and paused at the other end, listening.
She whispered, “Shouldn’t you have a weapon?”
“Yes, and I know just where to find one. Come on!”
***
When Sofia and Ronald entered the common room, men were tying strips of red cloth around their upper arms. Harold handed them each a strip. “Most of the men we will face are in uniform, but we know some of the servants are loyal to the Duke as well. Also, we don’t all know each other, and the less confusion, the better.”
Sofia scanned the group of men and made eye contact with each one. “Since there are two galleries, I suggest we split into two groups. Emma will lead one, and I will lead the other. We have abilities you do not.”
Altair spoke up. “Agreed, Princess, but if you are now Deluti, why do you wear a sword?”
She sighed and answered him honestly. “Altair, I have had a sword in my hand since I was a little girl. It is like an extension of my arm. I have only recently come into my true power and don’t trust my control. In the tight quarters of the Palace, I could do more harm than good.”
The two groups left the inn and traveled separate, but parallel routes to the Palace. Emma and Altair reached the alley with the hidden door first, and with his size, Navon’s brother had no trouble opening it. The putrid odor of a decaying body forced them back.
Sofia hurried up and asked, “What is wrong?” and then wrinkled her nose. “Stay back from the door and I’ll deal with this.”
At the other end of the tunnel, she found the body Mathias had hidden. The Princess let a little bit of her anger seep into the fire that engulfed the dead guard. A strong wind rose up and quickly scoured out the smoke and odor.
Sofia returned to her group as Emma and Altair entered the tunnel. At the far end, Emma nodded to him and then disappeared. He shoved with all his strength and the door slammed open. Two surprised guards sprinted for the stairs, but soon fell victim to the diminutive assassin’s skill.
Emma reappeared next to Altair and whispered. “That those men were here waiting means the halls are being watched. Give me a few moments to clear the halls, and then run as fast as you can. I’ll meet you at the gallery entrance.”
Sooner than Sofia thought wise, Altair shouted for everyone to run. He answered her unspoken question. “No one can outrun an Elintria. The second man she reaches will be dead before the first one hits the floor.”
The body of a guard littered each floor they came to. About to ascend the last set of stairs, Emma reappeared motioning them to stop.
“There are three men with bows guarding the entrance to each gallery. They have illuminator candles that will unmask me when I get near.”
She was about to ask for suggestions when Sofia ran to the top of the stairs, and looked toward the front of the Palace, her eyes narrowed.
“By the Eyes, no,” she muttered, and turned back to the others. “We are out of time! Navon is at the Palace and forced to do something that might have unintended consequences. Hurry!” she shouted and ran.
They rounded the last corner in view of the guards when a tremor rocked the Palace to its foundation. Struggling to her feet, Sofia watched the guards get up, rush into the gallery and slam the door behind them. She had just made it to the door when the screaming began.
***
Rafael paused at the first set of dead guards. “If the others are headed for the audience chamber, there may still be guards where we have to go. We need to be careful.”
Twice they had to hide at the sound of men running. Once inside the library, Rafael rushed to a back shelf and began throwing books to the floor. He reached in behind them and pulled out a bundle.
Floanne gasped in wonder as he un-wrapped the weapon inside.
“The sword of my forefather.”
Rafael stared at her in confusion. “Your forefather?”
“Yes. When Mathias told us about the skeleton and sword you discovered in the tunnel, a Deluti spirit related the story of the brother and sister who were entrusted with the safety of a Deluti amulet. The Princess escaped to Dahlian with the amulet, and I am her descendant.”
The young historian grabbed her hand and headed for the door, shaking his head. “I would really like to meet this spirit someday.”
They reached the door to the holding cells, and Rafael peeked inside. The room was empty, but more importantly, the keys to the cells lay out on the table. He smiled at Floanne in triumph, took a step inside, when the floor under their feet jumped and a loud boom echoed through the halls.
Eyes wide, they shared a look and then rushed inside, Floanne checking the cells on one side while Rafael grabbed the keys and yelled. “Sebastian! Where are you?”
“Here,” came the answer as Rafael spied a large hand stuck out between the bars of a cell at the back of the room. Fumbling, he managed to unlock the door and swung it open. “Hurry, we must leave right away!”
“But Rafael, won’t you be in trouble? I’m innocent, and I’m sure they will release me soon.” the ogre p
rotested, unsure.
“It doesn’t make any difference, Sebastian. Father intends to kill you whether you are innocent or not.”
“That’s right, and we are here to do just that,” came a voice from the door.
Rafael and Floanne spun around in surprise and stared at the two men standing just inside the room, loaded crossbows held steady. Rafael raised himself up and addressed the men.
“I am Rafael d’Lorange, the Duke’s son, and I order you to put down your weapons and release the ogre.”
One of the guards laughed. “Sorry, boy. We only take orders from the Duke himself.”
The other growled and raised his bow. “Just kill the animal so we can get out of here.”
“Nooo…!” Rafael shouted and jumped in front of the ogre. One bolt struck Sebastian in the shoulder while the other imbedded itself in the young man’s chest. Sebastian caught Rafael’s limp body, laid it on the floor and then charged, his fangs bared in rage.
Swords out, one of the guards evaded the ogre’s charge and focused on Floanne, a wicked gleam in his eyes. She reached for the sword lying next to Rafael and instinctually raised it to block the man’s swing. He stared in shock as his blade sheared off when it struck the Deluti sword. Bellowing in anger, he lunged for her and impaled himself on her sword.
Floanne jerked her hand away from the sword as the man’s body slumped to the floor. In shock, she stood there, her body trembling.
Sebastian returned, held her tight, and then bent down to retrieve the sword. He handed it back to her. “Sword save life. It yours be.”
Without another word, he gently lifted Rafael’s body in his arms and headed for the door. Sobbing, Floanne followed, the sword like a viper in her hand.
Out in the hall, she barely noticed the wolf. It barked once at the ogre and turned, leading them away.
***
Marcus circulated among the families gathered, smiling and laughing at their stories. They were all fools, and soon he would be rid of them. What use did he have for Dukes and Barons when he became King. His guard would keep the peasants in line, and governors loyal to him would have control over their assigned areas.
The Pain of Compassion Page 27
