The Defender

by Rachel Rossano

  Hadrian

  She was coming.

  Almighty, why does she have to be endangered too? He didn’t answer me. I silently cursed my own stupidity at not severing the commisceo link before we retired. If I had, I would have made a clean get away and not be huddled here in the middle of nowhere waiting for Zezilia to catch up so that I could function again.

  The panic in my chest made breathing laborious, and my thoughts kept straying to the connection between our minds and my frustration that she refused to ConProp. I had tried just continuing to ride, hoping the connection would somehow break from distance alone. It had been a foolish thing to do. I had eventually gone into convulsions, spooked my horse, and fallen off. Now, in addition to the horrendous panic compressing my chest like a vice and the overwhelming waves of isolation, I had a headache from cracking my head on a fallen log and a pulled muscle in my leg.

  I was so certain that this was Your will, I protested. Yet after all this, I am not as sure. Still, I stubbornly refused to move even an inch backwards, despite the invisible pull from Zezilia’s distant presence. So, I huddled among the trees and brush with nothing better to do than pray.

  Father, how could I have been so wrong? Consumed with my own pride and self-assurance, I have condemned so many to death and lifelong trials. So many men died instead of me. If I had only seen what the Elitists would do to Blan when they discovered his allegiance, I would have never sent him or at least taken more precautions. And Deucalion Marcellus… I covered my face in shame. If I hadn’t selected him as high king, they wouldn’t have… I couldn’t even admit to myself all the terrible things they had done to him. Cayphis’ reports were excruciating to read. I banished the memory from my mind. Almighty, please spare him from more torture.

  And Eldivo, I felt tears filling my eyes. He was only a child. It was as though I had condemned Zezilia in his place. If I had just exposed his proper birthright as an eighth-born back when he was first presented, he wouldn’t be in the clutches of the mesitas now, a puppet in the hands of a monster. Please, Father, let me spare him. Let me take his place. Give him a chance at a normal life outside the control of the mesitas and others like him. Please do not condemn him to such an existence. Allow me to spare him.

  And most of all, Father, spare Zezilia. She has such potential. Have her survive this untouched.

  As I bent to plead for forgiveness for all the harm I had inadvertently done in my foolish pride, the pressure in my chest began to ease slightly. Zezilia was coming. I resolved anew. When she arrived, I would cut the commisceo link between us and send her home. Then, I would, hopefully with the Almighty’s blessing, go and rescue Eldivo.

  * * *

  Zezilia

  He was close. My entire body seemed to be tuned into his location. His pain filled my senses, causing echoes in my own head and leg. At least the compression of my chest had eased, and the sensation of isolation was decreasing. Then, I spotted him. He sat under a pine tree, leaves and needles in his hair and clinging to his cloak. His eyes were closed. His head lay back against the trunk, exposing his throat.

  I drew my mount up a few feet from him and dismounted, tying the leads to the low branch of a neighboring pine.

  “Why didn’t you ConProp?” he demanded before I turned around. I heard him rise to his feet as the pulled muscle in his left leg complained. “You could have ConPropped ages ago. I have asked you to at least four times.”

  “Seven.” I turned to face him. “You begged me to once, asked me twice, and ordered me four times, which brings the total to seven.” His face drew into haggard lines. Pain pulled the features taut, and exhaustion haunted his eyes. He looked as though I could push him over with one finger. I wondered if he could even stand on his own, considering how he still clung to the tree.

  “I can so stand on my own,” he answered the stray thought. Pushing off, he stepped forward. He could stand; however, he couldn’t hide the wince of pain from the pulled muscle. He straightened to his full height and frowned down at me. “Now, tell me. Why didn’t you ConProp?”

  “I couldn’t.”

  His frown deepened.

  “Somehow, I knew if I did, I would lose you.” His face didn’t change, but his eyes softened slightly.

  “Are you sure it wasn’t the commisceo speaking?”

  “No, but I wasn’t about to try it to find out.” I stepped over to where I could see him more clearly in the dim light of dawn that crept through the trees. “What happened to your horse?”

  He grimaced, shame flickering between us. “He bolted.”

  “The side effects of the commisceo?”

  He nodded while examining my face with his eyes. “Are you all right now?” The concern in his voice caused my chest to warm. It was foolish since I already knew he cared for me.

  “The isolation sensations still linger, but I can breathe again.”

  He nodded. “Let’s not try that again.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. It was a relief to have the ordeal over with. I never wanted to experience that fear again. Unexpectly, my laughter turned into a sob. I tried to stop it, but the emotion won.

  Before I could get a hold on it, I was crying tears of release. Hadrian stepped forward and gathered me against him. I buried my face in the front of his cloak and struggled to regain my composure.

  Relax and let it go. His warm and gentle thought soothed my fear that he would think I was being childish. I half feel like crying myself. I thought I was going to burst from wanting to be near you. His thought passed between us. He stiffened slightly as though regretting admitting it, but he didn’t withdraw.

  I was afraid I would lose you, I admitted. That is why I couldn’t ConProp.

  I know. His embrace tightened slightly. I felt the same.

  Then why did you keep telling me to ConProp?

  He eased back from me. When I looked up at him, he touched my cheek, brushing aside a tear. I was afraid of losing you. I am going to rescue Eldivo, and I didn’t want you to come with me.

  I am coming, I informed him.

  He nodded. As much as I don’t like it, I suspected as much.

  “You know where Eldivo is?”

  He stepped away, completely releasing me. Everything within me wanted to catch his hand and pull him back, but I couldn’t. Now was not the time.

  “The mesitas and Eldivo are stationed in an ancient outpost about a mile from here. According to the missive I received right before I left, they only have about ten guards at most.”

  “Segia?”

  “Most likely.”

  “Then, what is your plan?” I asked.

  He sighed. “I thought I would sneak in and confront the mesitas without raising the alarm. If I immobilize him, I can locate Eldivo and escape with him back to the nearest meeting place. There is one about a half day’s ride from here.”

  I nodded. “That sounds doable.”

  “The only problem is that now we only have one horse. Two people can ride a horse, though I wouldn’t recommend it, but three isn’t possible. On foot, we will be more vulnerable and slow.”

  “On the way in, we can watch out for more mounts,” I suggested.

  He nodded. “That is the way it will have to be. I can’t really back out now.”

  “You mean we can’t back out now.”

  He smiled wearily. “Yes, that is what I mean.”

  * * *

  Chapter XV

  Zezilia

  The ruin lay along the top of a rise in the ground. Decades before, the woods stood far from the boundaries, but now new growth, young trees and brush, crowded it on all sides. Within the crumbling walls, the roofs of three buildings peeked out at us. The keep, stable, and watchtower, Hadrian thought, identifying each for me. Last time I was here, only the keep remained standing with a complete roof on it. Most likely, that is where they will be.

  So, what is your plan? I asked.

  Hadrian scanned what we could see. How far can you sense?
>
  Remembering the day that he had appeared at the willow farm, I replied, Quite a ways, including the entire ruins. But that will take a great deal of concentration.

  We have time. I will keep a lookout.

  I withdrew into myself. Strengthening my connection with my amoveo, I spread out my energy field. I looked with my energy-sight alone.

  A man stood just beyond the outer wall and out of our sight. He was walking along in the direction of the break. In a moment, he was going to be able to look toward us.

  I see him. Hadrian’s hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled me down and out of sight. His touch sent a thrill though me, but I pushed the reaction back. I had to concentrate on the task at hand.

  Touching seems to strengthen our connection. I can see what you are seeing. One of his hands moved from my shoulder to close around my hand while the other slipped away. Do you mind?

  No. I pressed outward with my energy-sight, keeping my thoughts on that. Regardless, a strange tightness formed in my gut. I prayed that he couldn’t sense that, and if he did, he didn’t understand the significance.

  About thirty feet beyond the man, who was now scanning our location, the wall of the keep rose. The door is on the far side, Hadrian prompted. Most likely, there will be a guard there. I nodded.

  The guard was a few feet beyond where Hadrian predicted. He strode around the circumference of the keep. Even as we sat and watched, he met up with the first guard and they started to talk.

  Are there any more? Hadrian’s rich taste lingered in the back of my mind.

  I continued to scan. A few moments later, I located four men within the keep, who we guessed were the mesitas, Eldivo, and two guards. Four more men were located in the ruined guardhouse, one perched near the top as a lookout, but thankfully unable see this side of the keep. We would only have to worry about him when we attempted to enter the keep. I pulled back into myself and took a deep breath.

  That was amazing. Hadrian’s appreciation washed over me in gentle swells. So that is how you sensed me that day when I met you and Candra?

  I nodded.

  He smiled. I wondered how you had done that.

  You can’t do that?

  Zez, you are capable of things I can only dream of. God has blessed you with an amazing gift.

  If only my father could hear him say that.

  Your father is missing out on so much by not seeing you as you are. Always remember that.

  I nodded, half afraid of what else Hadrian had been catching while sharing my vision.

  Ready? He asked.

  Ready.

  We slipped out of the foliage and ran across the open space to the outer wall when the sentry wasn’t looking. Almighty, please be with us, I prayed.

  * * *

  Hadrian

  It was as though the Almighty cleared our way. The sentries stopped to talk, and we slipped past them. The lookout in the watch tower ruins turned the other way as we rounded the corner of the keep, and the door was unlatched, enabling us to slip inside without a sound.

  Once inside, it took a moment for my regular sight to adjust to the darkness. Zezilia eased the latch of the door into place as silently as possible. According to her senses, the four inhabitants of the keep were in the smaller room beyond, a smaller room whose closed door was on the far side of the old great hall. The great hall took up about two thirds of the entire keep. The only other room was where the lord and his family of old slept. The rest of the household would have slumbered on the floor around the central fireplace.

  Even now, a century or more later, remnants of their lives still shone out around the room. Soot blackened wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling, a scarred oak table was shoved against the far wall, and layers of ashes and dust still lay in the central fireplace. Except for the trail of footprints through the grime on the earthen floor, I could see no sign that anyone had been here since my last visit nearly fifteen years ago.

  What next? Zezilia’s thought flickered through my mind, breaking me out of my memories. I glanced over to where she stood behind me, ferrum drawn and scanning the room.

  We go through the door.

  She grimaced and met my eyes for a moment. I know, but what then? Do you want me to deal with the Segia?

  I nodded. I will confront the mesitas. Drawing my own blade, I asked. Are you ready?

  The energy barrier around me intensified, she adjusted the grip on her sword and prayed to the Almighty. I echoed it. Almighty God, please use us for Your glory.

  With a signal from her, I stepped forward, crossed the great hall, and flung open the door. The long dark room was lit with a single lantern at the far end where two men stood, one of them the mesitas, bending over the only piece of furniture, a low table. The Segia stood at attention on either side of the table.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up. There was not a single sign that they were hiding out here, no bedding, supplies, or fuel. Something was wrong. Why were they here?

  “Mesitas, we have come for Septimus Pewlin,” I declared.

  The mesitas turned slowly as though he had been expecting our arrival. “Is that so, Master Aleron? And how do you propose you are going to force him away?” He gestured to the young man at his side. The thin youth dressed in the midnight blue of a sept son regarded me with eerily calm brown eyes. “As you can see, I am not exactly holding him against his will.”

  Hadrian? Agony flooded my senses, robbing me of my breath as Zezilia let out a scream and her shield around me dropped away. I whipped around. Needles drove through my veins, my head felt as though it was going to explode, and fire blossomed in my chest, searing my lungs; however, the sensations were somehow distant. I gasped for breath, but Zezilia lay on the floor, her back arched, agony tearing at her features while every muscle in her body contorted. I realized that the excruciating pain overwhelming me was not my own but hers. The man standing over her grinned manically. His mental presence cut through Zezilia’s mind like a shard of frozen glass.

  Anger, white hot, filled my mind, obliterating all reason in its path. I whipped my ferrum around, fully intending to sever her attacker’s head from his body when I found myself frozen in place, ferrum over my head and my energy-sight filled with an impenetrable curtain of orange energy. No matter how I strained to move, I could not.

  I am going to have to… A new spasm of pain took away her concentration as every nerve in her body exploded. He is attacking me in my nerve center. She whimpered a gasp of pain before contorting again. I felt like I was going to shed my skin if I couldn’t stop her agony. I struggled against the invisible barrier that held me helpless.

  “What have we here?” a new voice asked. I couldn’t turn my head to see the speaker, but a leaden feeling filled my gut. Zezilia screamed again. The sound ripped at my chest. “Oh, do give it a rest, Severin.” Just as suddenly as it had begun, the torture stopped. Zezilia’s muted gasping sobs filled the abrupt silence.

  “He is Master Aleron.” The mesitas offered the information with the tone of a child trying to please his schoolmaster. “He says he has come for Eldivo, but of course that is a fruitless mission. Any man can see that Eldivo has willingly joined our cause.”

  “You have come for that child?” The speaker finally moved into my field of vision. A man of medium height, I placed him at about sixty, spry and healthy. With full head of white, wispy hair and clear blue eyes, he looked like someone’s doting grandfather. However, I was certain he was nothing of the sort. He regarded me with the quizzical smile of a man amused at a twisted farce. “He is hardly worth the effort. I have obviously underestimated your skills at deception, my dear boy, if you have allowed everyone to believe that he is a seventh born.

  “Ah, but we haven’t been introduced. Where are my manners?” He executed an elegant bow. “I am Thrasius Parzifal, High Master of the superior Elitist forces of the goddess.”

  The mesitas rushed to add to this proclamation. “The anointed of the goddess to cleanse the upper l
eadership of corruption.” Thrasius’ expression of annoyance didn’t register with the mesitas.

  “You may not know me, Hadrian, but I know you. I have been eagerly awaiting your appearance. Although my men doubted it, I was certain you would seek me out. Now that I have your undivided attention, there are some matters we need to discuss. First of which is the murder of some of my best men.”

  Then it dawned on me. It was a trap, planned from the beginning, and I had walked right into it.

  * * *

  Zezilia

  My lungs labored to make up for lost time despite, the burning with every breath. In the back of my head, Hadrian’s anger burned slow and hot. His frustration flared each time he tried to move. I tried to ignore it as I dealt with my own problems. While my tormenter was temporarily distracted by the interaction between my master and his, I scanned our surroundings. I counted four men, aside from the mesitas and Eldivo. The white-haired man was obviously the leader.

  Are you alright? Hadrian’s thought pushed through my pain, spreading soothing warmth in its path.

  They attacked a specific area of my externus to invoke the pain. I am trying to protect it, but you need to… Fire interrupted my thought. An inferno consumed my chest. I gasped for air, and my muscles contorted independent of my will. Ice perforated my skin in millions of double-sided shards, slicing through my flesh. My assailant cut through my externus, filling my mouth with the taste of seared meat. My stomach convulsed. I swallowed back the acid rising in my throat and struggled to grasp any remnants of concentration I could muster. I had to communicate with Hadrian, or he was lost. Almighty help! A scream tore at my already hoarse throat.

  “Cease that, Severin. She is only a female, and you are distracting the prisoner,” the leader snapped. The pressure in my mind let up slightly. The fire damped to a slight flicker, and the ice stopped. My muscles convulsed from the sudden release, as though they had borne me for a fifty mile run. I doubted I would have been able to lift my arm even if my life depended on it. “It isn’t as though she is worth much to us.”