Tentacles of ether formed at his command and began probing the cliff wall. They instantly sank beneath the illusion and settled on the actual door. At least there was something here, that was good. Now how to get in.
Otto closed his eyes and sent his vision along one of the tentacles. The door hidden behind the illusion was different than the armory he’d visited earlier. Instead of smooth wood and steel, this one had a bronze beast head in the center. It looked a little like a bear, but he couldn’t be sure.
Since no runes or other markings marred the metal sculpture, Otto assumed it was just a decoration and resumed his search. He soon found the source of the illusion in the form of a collection of runes running along the door’s frame. He covered the runes with ether and the illusion vanished. So far it was working just as he hoped.
He returned his sight to his body and gave the door a closer look. Why would Lord Karonin have put such an ugly and garish decoration on the door of her armory? He doubted it was simply for appearances. But if it wasn’t, he couldn’t figure out what it meant.
Otto shrugged and sent his tentacles into the door, quickly finding the hinges and pouring ether into them. The door slid silently into the ceiling. That was different as well. Beyond the door, a rune glowed in the center of the chamber.
Caution warred with curiosity and lost badly. Conjuring a light, Otto stepped inside. He managed three strides before the door slammed back down with a rather final-sounding thud. Alarming as it was, he didn’t let it rattle him. He knew how to get back out after all.
He put an extra thread’s worth of ether into his light and sent it up to the ceiling. There were no bookshelves in this armory, or weapons for that matter. Instead six pits ran the diameter of the single chamber. The wall held four unoccupied sets of manacles. There was also a heavy chain ending with an iron collar on the side opposite the manacles.
What the hell had he stumbled into, a weird torture chamber? What kind of torture chamber didn’t have tools? A wizard’s might not. Otto could do a fair job of torturing someone with just magic so what could Lord Karonin have managed?
He shivered just thinking about her questioning prisoners in this grim chamber.
He walked to the edge of one of the pits and looked down. It was about twenty feet deep and fifteen feet around, not huge, but big enough to hold a prisoner easily enough. Something lined the bottom, but he couldn’t make out what. His first guess was straw, but why would his master bother with bedding for a prisoner she was planning to torture?
A tentacle of ether brought a handful of the stuff up for a closer inspection. It wasn’t straw after all, but fur, coarse, brown fur unlike anything Otto had seen before. He tossed it back and moved on. All the pits were the same, some had more fur at the bottom than others, but that was the only thing that distinguished them.
Hours passed while he checked every surface for hidden doors or anything else of value, but he came up empty. Whatever Lord Karonin did here, it was a mystery to Otto. He sighed and moved to the center of the chamber. At least his search broke up the tedium of the long march north.
He was about to enter the ether and rejoin Hans when a vibration from one of his runes jangled his nerves. He focused and traced it back toward Garenland. Since no one knew about the one hidden in his suite in Franken Manor, it had to be Wolfric in the palace. His friend wouldn’t be calling out unless he was in trouble.
Otto became one with the ether and rushed south. Hopefully he didn’t arrive too late.
It took three days of talking and planning, but Kelten finally had his team, seven men, all loyal and determined to do the right thing. He was very careful who he selected. Even one person letting something slip at the wrong time could doom them all. He hadn’t reached out to Trask either. The Watch Commander had risked enough. If their effort failed, Kelten didn’t want anything to happen to the one remaining man who might be able to oppose what he feared Wolfric and Otto intended.
As he stood in the long shadows of an evergreen with a view of the palace’s side entrance, Kelten steeled himself for what was to come. Some good, honest men might die today. Many would see what he was doing as a betrayal of the Crown and would try to stop him. They didn’t know the truth and might not believe it if Kelten told them. He wished he didn’t believe it. He wished he could go back to his blind loyalty, but he couldn’t. The murder of the old king had broken his faith.
Across the street a lantern flashed.
That was the signal. He ran across the street and ducked under the portcullis. Two of Borden’s men lay unconscious on the ground. The first thing Kelten’s replacement had done was put men loyal to him at all the entrances. But he hadn’t increased their number which made them easy to deal with.
“So far so good, Captain,” Sergeant Timothy said.
“The others are in place?”
“Yes, sir. Wolfric has retired early. Our people should have cleared a path to his private chambers.”
So it was just Wolfric now, no honorific, no respect. Well, he couldn’t blame them. It was harder to betray someone you respected.
“Then let’s not keep him waiting.” Kelten drew his sword and set out with Timothy and his partner trailing behind.
The familiar twists and turns of the castle took on a sinister feel. Despite the assurance Timothy offered, Kelten assumed enemies waited around every corner.
After the first bend they found two of their comrades standing over the bodies of the guards on duty. A shallow pool of blood was spreading under them. Those weren’t Borden’s men, but palace guards that once served under his command. That they had to die was a tragedy, one he placed directly at Wolfric’s feet. How many deaths would the boy king have to answer for by the time they reached his private chamber?
The next two guard posts had been subdued without any loss of life. When they reached the doors to Wolfric’s bedchamber they found the final two members of the group on duty. They were the key to this whole thing going off without a hitch. If anyone else pounded on his door, Wolfric would be on alert.
Kelten nodded, not daring to speak lest Wolfric hear him.
The right-hand guard rapped on the bedroom door. “Majesty, a messenger has arrived.”
“I’ll deal with them in the morning, now keep silent.” Wolfric’s voice was muffled by the doors, but his annoyance came through loud and clear.
The guards looked to Kelten who mouthed the words, “It’s from Lord Shenk.”
“It’s from Lord Shenk, Majesty. Some trouble at the front.”
There was a noise from behind the door and Kelten tensed.
Any second now.
The door opened a crack. “What?”
Kelten lashed out with a front kick, slamming the door into Wolfric.
The king staggered back but didn’t fall.
He dodged a thrust and leapt over the bed, putting it between them. Before Kelten could do anything else, Wolfric yanked a pull cord dangling beside the bed.
“They won’t get here in time,” Kelten said.
Wolfric grinned. “We’ve made a few changes since you left.”
From outside came shouts and the thunder of pounding armored feet rushing down the hall. How did they respond so fast?
“A squad of Borden’s finest are stationed around the corner in a converted closet. We didn’t announce the change, just in case.”
Kelten grimaced. All Wolfric had to do was delay long enough for his soldiers to arrive and this would all be for nothing.
“We’ll hold them, sir.” Thomas slammed the door, sealing him in with Wolfric.
“Surrender and I promise your execution will be painless,” Wolfric said.
“If I die, it will only be after I’ve killed you. Wolfric von Garen, for the crime of regicide, I sentence you to death.”
Wolfric shook his head. “He wasn’t supposed to die. I loved my father, but I loved my country more. If we hadn’t removed him, Garenland would have fallen to Straken. We only intended to wound hi
m so he couldn’t rule for a few months, long enough for the invaders to be driven back across the border. But luck wasn’t with us and a clot formed during the night.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.” Kelten shifted left and Wolfric matched him to the right.
“Wasn’t it? You saw what Father had become. He was delusional, believing talk would accomplish anything at this point. How many innocent citizens would you have consigned to death while he tried to make up his mind to fight? Was his life worth more than the scores or maybe hundreds or thousands of innocents that would have died? Tell me, Captain, would you have come here to take my life on their behalf if I had done nothing?”
Outside the muffled crashes and thuds grew louder. Wolfric was trying to delay him so his guards could come to the rescue. Still, he raised a point that Kelten hadn’t considered. Was the king’s life worth more than a hundred commoners? A thousand? He couldn’t say.
“I’m not here to debate what might have been. Protecting your father was my charge. Since I failed, avenging him is all I have left.”
Kelten lunged across the bed.
Wolfric scrambled around to the other side and sprinted toward the closet. If he got in there and locked the door, Kelten had no chance of reaching him before his men were overwhelmed.
He lashed out with a kick that grazed Wolfric as he passed, staggering but not stopping him.
The king yanked the closet door open.
Kelten was right on his heels.
The door started to close, but Kelten jammed the fingers of his left hand into the gap. He winced as they were crushed between the frame and the heavy wood.
Snarling away the pain, he wrenched the door open.
He was just in time to see Wolfric pounding on a strange, glowing mark with a hammer.
Kelten’s moment of confusion cost him dearly.
Before he could react, a blinding light filled the closet. When his vision cleared, Otto stood directly above the mark.
Their eyes met and lightning crashed into Kelten’s chest.
Darkness claimed him.
Chapter 47
Otto stared down at Kelten’s unmoving body. He’d made sure to only use enough lightning to render him unconscious, not kill him. There were questions that needed answering and dead men were notoriously difficult to question. He flicked a glance at Wolfric’s wardrobe then settled his gaze on the king, still dressed in purple silk pajamas.
Putting the marking rune in his giant closet had seemed silly when Wolfric suggested it, but it worked out well today. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Wolfric’s voice was still a little shaky, but considering he’d nearly been killed it was pretty steady. “I should have taken your advice and had him killed. I can’t believe Kelten would do this. And how could he have figured out everything we did?”
“A lot of it was probably guesswork. We’ll find out for sure once we interrogate him.” Otto was about to say more when the bedroom door burst in.
Borden and a dozen armed and bloody soldiers rushed in. The commander took one look at the situation and motioned for his men to sheathe their weapons.
“We’ve dealt with the traitors outside.” Borden nodded toward Kelten. “Do you wish me to dispose of this trash?”
“Take him to the dungeon,” Wolfric said. “We’ll have questions for him when he wakes up. Make sure only people you’re certain of are guarding him.”
Borden bowed. “I’ll make sure. And I beg you forgive me for this failure. I suspected there were sympathizers, but I wanted to give them a chance.”
Wolfric waved a hand as if nearly getting killed by his former captain of the guard was no big deal. “What’s done is done. The important thing is to make sure it doesn’t happen again. We’ll need to purge the guard to make sure no more disloyal men remain.”
“I’ll see to it personally,” Borden said.
“No.” Otto stepped out of the closet and moved closer to Borden. “I will see to it personally. Every guard working in the palace will be interviewed and cleared by me before they even get close to the king.”
“I assure you my men are loyal.” Borden took a breath to argue more but Wolfric raised a hand.
“Otto will make sure. I trust you personally, Borden, but better safe than sorry. Get Kelten to the dungeon before he wakes up.”
“Yes, Majesty.”
The soldiers dragged Kelten away leaving Otto and Wolfric alone.
“I can interview enough guards tonight to ensure your safety,” Otto said. “We’ll question Kelten in the morning if that’s okay.”
Wolfric nodded then asked, “What about the army? Don’t you need to get back?”
Otto shook his head. “At the rate they’re moving, it will be a miracle if we reach Marduke before the first major storm. The prisoners are slowing us terribly. I suggested to the general that we could leave them behind with a small guard force or execute them, but he said the first wasn’t safe and the second went against your orders. It would be a huge help if you could write a letter explaining that the order to go easy on the people didn’t apply to enemy soldiers.”
“It obviously doesn’t,” Wolfric said. “General Varchi should realize that.”
Otto shrugged. “He may have refused simply because I suggested it. The general doesn’t like wizards. Seems he regards killing with magic as dishonorable. As if the men are somehow more dead if you stab them. I knew there were going to be problems integrating wizards into the army, but I must admit I didn’t expect the general himself would be part of them. I mean, what sort of leader doesn’t want to win with as few casualties as possible?”
“The old-fashioned sort.” Wolfric blew out a long sigh. “He may need to be replaced or at least be reminded that the goal is to win, honor be damned. I’m going to put you in overall command. Varchi can consult on strategy and carry out your orders.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. For all his faults, the soldiers look up to him. Undercutting him will hurt morale. I think what you need to do is clarify that getting to Marduke before winter is most important and that enemy soldiers don’t need to be treated gently. That should be enough to accomplish our goals.”
Wolfric smiled and went to his desk. “This is why I chose you as my advisor. Any other man would have jumped at the chance to lead the army, but you take the time to consider what’s best for Garenland instead of what’s best for you. Oh, and thank you for saving my life.”
“My pleasure. I’ll leave you to write. I need to conduct some interviews before I return. May I suggest letting Kelten rot for a while? We can speak to him together once things in Straken are settled.”
“Agreed. Letting the bastard hang in the dungeon will soften him up.”
Otto withdrew to begin his interrogations. He’d come far too close to losing his best ally. If Wolfric had gotten killed, it would have set his project back years at least. He couldn’t let something like this happen again.
Chapter 48
The city of Marduke was very much like everything else in Straken, huge and powerful looking. Otto studied the sixty-foot-high thirty-foot-thick walls from a safe distance while the army deployed. After rescuing Wolfric and assuring himself of the loyalty of at least a third of the guards in the palace, Otto had rushed back with a message to get the army moving.
General Varchi, bless his obedient heart, had ordered the army into high gear, which still wasn’t very fast, but at least doubled their pace. Any prisoner that failed to keep up was put to the sword, which kept them moving at a good clip.
And now here they were, facing the capital of Straken, three inches of snow covering the killing field between the walls and the forest surrounding the city. Taking the city was going to be a challenge, even with magic. There were only two entrances, both sealed by massive, iron-bound gates. Smashing their way through them would take heaven only knew how long, even with the enchanted armor.
“Quite a sight.” Axel eased his mount up beside Otto.
“Indeed. Any thoughts about how we get inside?”
Axel quirked an eyebrow. “I assumed you and your wizards would blast the walls to gravel and we’d just march in.”
“Funny. Magic’s much better against living targets than solid stone walls, at least my magic is. What an Arcane Lord might have done I couldn’t say. I figure our best bet is to lob fireballs over the wall and burn the city to the ground. When everyone’s dead, one of your scouts can climb over and open the gate for us.”
“You think it’ll be that simple?”
“Of course not. If we’ve got more than two weeks to get this done, I’ll be shocked. The best we can hope for is to do as much damage as possible in preparation for next year. When spring arrives, we’ll be back to finish the job.”
“The king’s not going to like that.”
“Wolfric was always overly optimistic about this campaign. Given that the Northern Army didn’t even deploy until the end of summer, it’s a miracle we made it this far. Once he thinks about it, he will understand. Besides, there’s plenty to be done back home.”
“That’s right, you’ve got a kid on the way. I almost forgot. When is the baby due?”
Otto grimaced. He had no desire to discuss Annamaria or Lothair’s spawn. Still, best to play the part of an interested father-to-be. “Not until early spring. I’ll probably be on the march right after the little one is born.”
Axel grinned. “Mother will be thrilled to have another grandchild. You’ll have to squeeze in a trip home to show her.”
“Maybe Mother can come to Garen. Annamaria had an ugly run-in with Stephan last time and I doubt she’ll be willing to return to Shenk Castle.”
The Great Northern War (The Portal Wars Saga Book 2) Page 22
