I noticed something wrong with Aarundel, but his first onrushing attack gave me no time to figure it out or to exploit it. He brought the sword down in an overhand blow. I parried high and normally would have swung around wide to the right to get my body out of line with his cut, but Takrakor's control took the edge off Aarundel's speed. I pivoted quick and tight to the right in a move that caught Aarundel's hip on mine and sent him up and over in a midair flip.
He crashed hard to the ground on his back. He hesitated there for a second, giving me a chance to split his skull from nose to crown, but I did not press my attack. I let him roll over to his stomach and scramble to his feet because that first pass had told me a number of things. If I could sort them out, I might be able to avoid killing Aarundel.
Aarundel was never a great swordsman—his weapon of choice was the ax that I wore on my back. I was better than he was at swordplay, and I had a magickal sword as well. Cleaveheart had already notched his sword when I parried him. I could easily do to him what Tashayul had done to me in our fight, which would leave Aarundel unarmed and vulnerable.
The Elf came at me again, but I parried his attack aside and forswore a riposte. Whipping my blade up and around in a grandiose slash, I rained three quick blows down at Aarundel's head and shoulders. He managed to parry each one easily enough, but each cut carved another piece from his sword. Like a woodsman notching a tree before felling it, I worked on Aarundel's sword with two other attacks, then I moved in close, bound his blade, and pushed him away.
What I knew about magicks could have filled a thimble and left room for an ocean, but I did remember that the small stones taken from the towers in Jarudin had a link between them and the towers from which they had been removed—a link that made magick possible. Takrakor's control over Aarundel meant he had to be linked to the Elf in some way. If they had both worn a similar crown or something else that bound their brains together in some way, the source of the connection would have been obvious. As it was I could not see Takrakor well enough to notice anything odd about him, but I spotted the difference on Aarundel as we stood face-to-face before I pushed him back.
Between his eyebrows, up against his forehead, I saw a scab barely an inch long and a lump beneath Aarundel's flesh at that point. I knew that had to be the focus of Takrakor's link with my friend, and as the Elf came back in toward me, I dropped my guard to invite a lunge.
The point of his blade shot in at my heart, but I twisted to my left and raised my sword arm up and over his lunge. As Aarundel overextended, my left fist arced out in a punch to the right side of his head. That staggered him and he began to fall sideways. I brought Cleaveheart down and sheared through his blade, then hooked his heels with my left foot, dumping him to the ground.
I pounced on him instantly and sat on his chest. I trapped his arms with my knees, then pressed Cleaveheart's pommel straight down on his forehead. The lump did not shatter, but the flesh split anew, and a thin sliver of a diamond tooth sat like an island in a welling pool of blood. Smearing crimson across Aarundel's forehead, I brushed the tooth fragment away and stood.
Takrakor stared down at me, furious. I shifted Cleaveheart to my left hand and filled my right with Wasp as the sorcerer started his turn toward Marta. I whipped my arm forward, sending Wasp up and up toward him, but Takrakor took no notice of my action. Intent on Marta, he brought his dagger up, aiming it for her soft belly.
Wasp skipped off a toothy merlon and tugged at the shoulder of Takrakor's cloak before bouncing off into the tower's shadows behind him. The sorcerer looked back at me with disdain, his knife frozen for a heartbeat. "Know that what happens now is what you have wrought."
"Neal, save her!"
"I can't!"
Looking up as I was, I saw it descending before Takrakor had even the slightest inkling of his peril. Leaping down from a perch higher up on the mausoleum tower, Shijef flew through the night and landed short of the gap between Takrakor and Marta. The Dreel's left arm stabbed forward and swept back. It caught Takrakor in the face and battered the sorcerer back into the shadows. With his right arm Shijef gathered Marta up, then the beast vaulted the toothy balustrade and landed in the courtyard with the grace and stealth of a cat.
I shrugged the ax off and tossed it to Aarundel as the Dreel ran over to join us. "Set her down, Shijef,"
The Dreel did as I instructed. "One claw, Shijef, carefully." I pointed to the scab line on Marta's forehead, above and between her staring eyes. "Cut the lump out. Easy, very easy."
The Dreel produced one razor claw and carefully re-opened the wound. As with Aarundel, the skin split cleanly and revealed a piece of one of Takrakor's teeth. I was about to order the Dreel to flick it away, but Marta blinked and raised a hand up to pluck it from her brow. "Leave this to me."
Had I been of a mind to argue with her about collecting souvenirs, I would have demanded she discard it, but the arrival of a half-dozen Reithrese warriors from within the mausoleum demanded my attention. Clad in mail similar to that which Aarundel wore, they bore swords and bucklers. They looked tough, but were coming at us from a direction in which we did not want to go.
"Shijef, I have an order for you. Will you obey it?"
"Obey always I do."
"You disobeyed me by following me here."
"Followed not, preceded." The Dreel smiled most horribly. "Obeyed I did."
The third grove being active with the colors of his fur suddenly made sense, as well as did his absence at my departure. It also explained how I managed to dismount and care for my horses upon my arrival in Jammaq without remembering any of it. "Do you smell the horses?"
"I do."
"Get Marta to them, and Aarundel." I glanced at my Elven companion. "Get going, I'll hold these clowns back."
Droplets of blood etched dark lines around the corners of Aarundel's mouth. "The Reithrese are more than just your enemy. Shijef, get Marta away from here."
"Go, Shijef, now."
The Reithrese approached us almost casually, as if already confident of their victory. I brandished Cleaveheart. "This is the sword that stole your empire. Are you brave enough to take it away from me?"
Before any of them could answer, I darted forward. Wrapping both hands around the hilt, I brought it across in a waist-high slash at the nearest of them. My foe dropped his buckler down to parry me, then screamed as Cleaveheart sliced through the small, round shield and took the lower half of his arm with it. His right arm had already started to come up in a thrust at my chest, so I spun inside his arm, brushed his attack aside with my right shoulder, and shifted the grip on my blade. With my back to his chest, I reversed Cleaveheart and thrust it back past my right hip and through his abdomen.
Letting gravity and his fall pull the dead man off my blade, I freed my right hand from Cleaveheart's hilt and appropriated my victim's own blade. Continuing my spin, albeit late and slow, I came around and, with the borrowed sword, swept aside a lunge at my midsection. I kicked forward with my right foot, catching the swordsman in the stomach. Breath exploded from him as he fell back. I split his skull with an overhand blow from Cleaveheart.
His brains had barely spattered the cobblestones when the third warrior came in quickly. He wanted to use his speed to defeat me and feinted at me with the dagger in his off hand. As I had with Aarundel's sword, I slashed Cleaveheart through it, then down into the warrior's left leg. He screamed as he went down, but caught himself on his hands. That presented his neck for me perfectly, and I did to him what I would have loved to have done to Takrakor.
My work done, I looked over at Aarundel. Two of his foes lay in a pile, and most of the third in another, with scattered bits between them. "Good work."
"And you."
I pointed to the dead Reithrese. "I assumed Takrakor had two dozen when he killed the Lansorii. Where are the rest of them?"
"I have no idea. I think some were sent as messengers, but the rest should be patrolling the city to keep Takrakor's enemies away."
I brought my sword up into a guard as I heard the clatter of hooves on cobblestones. "Mounted. This will be difficult."
"Anything to let Marta get away."
But Marta had not gotten away. With her bangs brushed back from her bloody face, she rode the lead horse into the courtyard, bringing Blackstar and the third horse behind her. Shijef jumped down from a rooftop, squatted on the cobblestones, and flicked dust and pebbles at the dead Reithrese. Aarundel ran over to his wife and hugged her around the waist, then mounted his horse.
I hauled myself up into Blackstar's saddle and patted the beast on the neck. "I have horses off to the north."
Shijef sniffed the air in the direction. "Lifeblack pools."
"We may have to chance it. North is where we can reach the circus translatio."
The Dreel shook his head. "Lifeblack deeply pools." He pointed toward the east and on around the compass. "And there. And there and there and there."
Aarundel frowned. "Surrounded. Takrakor's allies must have taken his announcement seriously."
I raised Cleaveheart in my right fist. "This sword is mine, and a lot of lifeblack will pool before it's pried from my hands."
Marta held her fist out. "Whoever is coming is very anxious. I can feel through this bit of tooth that more than one person is trying to magickally communicate with Takrakor."
I looked over at the Dreel. "Did you kill him?"
Shijef looked crestfallen. "Broken, not dead."
"Dammit." I looked around the city "There has to be a way out of here."
The Dreel's race brightened, which normally is not a good omen. "The Elven Way
. Roadfast."
"We need the grove for that." I turned to Aarundel as we all snapped ourselves into the chains we would need to use the circus transiatio. "There's not a grove here in Jammaq?"
"In this necropolis? No."
"Use Roadfast, not grove."
I frowned at Shijef. "We can't use Roadfast without a grove, and the nearest one is three days' hard ride from here."
"We need to do something," Aarundel pointed to the north. "I hear riders out that way."
The Dreel rose up to his full height. "Use Roadfast."
"We can't."
"Can."
"How?" I looked at Dreel as if by willpower alone I could make him understand. "We need the magick of the trees."
"Magick the trees have." Shijef pounded both paws against his chest "Magick I am.'"
The Dreel started off at a dead run around us. He circled us once, and the colors in his fur began to blur. On the second circuit he moved so fast that I had difficulty following his movements, and on the third only the intensification of the colors in the circle when he passed allowed me to see him.
When he got back to the point where he started, he stopped again instantly. His arms looped out to circle us all, then pull us in toward him. Blackstar fought against his touch, but I looked up and saw Reithrese riders pounding down toward us from the north. I spurred Blackstar forward, and he plunged on into the Dreel. The color wall parted, and once more I found myself in the odd place the Dreel named Roadfast.
As the familiar weariness began to pull at me again, I looked back and saw Aarundel and Marta riding behind me. Back beyond them I saw Shijef's shadowy form. Any attempt at figuring out how he could possibly be moving with us on a pathway for which he was the entry point threatened to overwhelm my senses. Facing forward again, I contented myself with feeling safe for the moment and smiled as I imagined Larissa's expression when we all arrived, once again safe, in Cygestolia.
Chapter 25:
Finding Your Place In History
Spring
A.R. 499
The Present
***
DESPITE THE GREY haze hanging over it and the ragged sprawl of mud, wooden, and stone buildings surrounding the walls, Genevera could see beauty in the Imperial capital. The bits and pieces of Reithrese architecture yet visible added an exotic touch to what clearly was a thoroughly Man-wrought city. She knew there had been extensive reconstruction after the fire that took place around the time of her birth, but natural weathering had taken the edges off new buildings and gave them the same grimy patina that marked even older constructions.
Berengar and Gena entered the city through the southern gate and immediately headed toward the second circle and the immense bazaar. There they managed to bargain their way into far fancier clothing than any they had obtained on the road—though none of it seemed to Gena quite good enough for visiting the emperor. Closer to the palace itself they took rooms at The Branded Hand and used the inn's bathing facilities to wash away the road dust.
She would have preferred waiting until the next morning for making their attempt to see the emperor, but Berengar's impatience warred with his solicitousness toward her, making him edgier and less predictable than a wounded bear. Dressed and perfumed, they hired an open carriage to take them to the palace. The choice of action over patience calmed Berengar, and he grew silent as the palace loomed closer.
The central tower itself had not been damaged in the fire, but reconstruction had allowed the emperor at the time—Rudolf, the grandfather of the emperor from whom Berengar's family claimed descent—to expand the Palace. He added a series of rectangular buildings that surrounded the original tower, though to what purpose Gena could not imagine, because the Reithrese tower easily had more habitable space in it than Woodspire or the Fisher mansion in Aurdon. More curious, given the fact of the tower's size, was the continuing construction on the buildings surrounding it.
The coachman let them off at the gate, then moved off a short distance to wait. Gena took this as an ill omen, but Berengar seemed barely to notice. As she adjusted her green cloak and woolen head scarf, the count strode boldly to the nearest of the soldiers standing at the gate. "I am Count Berengar Fisher of Aurdon in the province-state of Centisia. This is Lady Genevera of Cygestolia. We are come on an important mission to speak with His Sovereign Majesty, the emperor."
The soldier looked from Berengar to Gena and back. He appeared unimpressed, but turned to walk back through the gate. Berengar started to follow, but the man held his left hand up to stop him, while dropping his right hand to the hilt of his sword. The count stopped, his smile dimming, while the man disappeared. He returned quickly enough, leading an older man who stood not quite as tall as Berengar, but was decidedly more stout than Gena's companion.
The new arrival, a sergeant according to the armband he wore, ignored Berengar and walked over to Gena. The scent of garlic reached her before he did, and with the swipe of his gloved left hand, the sergeant removed the last trace of his dinner from around his mouth. "Drop the scarf, missy, let me see your ears."
"This is an outrage!" Berengar's shout came with enough anger that in a bar it would have spawned a fight in an instant.
The sergeant shook his head. "Best be having your boy be quiet or we'll steel-leech him."
Berengar's eyes blazed, but Gena raised a hand. She removed the head scarf, then raked her hair back from her left ear. "Is this sufficient, Sergeant, or do you wish to touch it?" She twisted the ear sufficiently to have torn the pointed top off had it been prosthetic. "I am one of the sylvanesti."
"So your patience and help here confirm, my Lady." The sergeant cocked his head toward Berengar. "And you will vouch for the likes of him?"
"I will and do."
He turned toward Berengar. "Claimant or pretender?"
Berengar blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
The sergeant sighed. "Do you wear the tiger over your crest or not?"
"I do."
"There we go." The sergeant waved both of them after him. Once inside the gate the man led them past a small guardhouse and pointed them to a doorway. "Go in there. Find yourself and you will find the emperor."
Gena could see the tension rising to an explosion in Berengar, but she bled some off as she touched him on the arm. "Come, my Lord, let us see if we have a clue to the puzzle we
have been presented."
Berengar exhaled audibly but said nothing as he nodded and followed her through the doorway. Beyond it they found a small, relatively featureless room. They entered through a door in the south wall. Doorways to the east and west led back out of it. In the center, on a stone dais, stood a scale model of the castle surrounding the tower. Twenty-seven small golden circles marked different points on it, and each circle had a number engraved on it.
Gena could not figure out what the numbers meant, though she did notice that they grew larger the further they were located from the room in which they stood. She also saw that only half of the new construction had been marked with them. "This is quite curious."
"Hmmm," Berengar grunted. He had barely glanced at the map and instead peered up along the walls near the ceiling. "Look, the name of every emperor has been carved into the wall, along with a number to designate his position in our history. See, it begins with Beltran Primus and ends with Hardelwick."
Gena looked up and saw the number twenty-seven carved beneath Hardelwick's name. "I think I have an idea. What was the name of the emperor from whom you claim descent?"
"Aufrey. He is number twenty-four."
Gena looked down at the model of the castle. "Twenty-four, here it is. We go east." Without explaining she grabbed Berengar's hand and led him off through the eastern doorway. She felt him resist at first, then he moved with her willingly. As they passed through numbered chambers with doors to the north and south, they increased their speed, but held back from running.
They stopped in the chamber with "24" carved in the center of the floor. To the north, carved on the wall, they saw the names of Aufrey's legitimate children, save that of his eldest and heir, Caselmund. That name had been inscribed over the lintel leading into the next chamber. A doorway stood open beneath each of the other three children. The centermost opened into a chamber, while the other two led to stairs.
Once A Hero Page 35
