Sevenfold Sword

by Jonathan Moeller

  Her unease grew.

  She remembered her last conversation with Ridmark, how he had told her of the Seven Swords and the seven Maledicti. He had spoken of a mystery, of his fears of a dark secret that threatened them all, and suddenly she knew exactly what he had meant.

  There was something wrong. Kalussa didn’t know what it was, not yet, but there was something wrong.

  She hesitated for a moment and then headed back to the great hall.

  ###

  Tamlin was in a good mood.

  He wasn’t quite drunk yet, though he was getting close. Rather, he had drunk just enough that food tasted better, and King Hektor had served a magnificent feast to his guests. The courses included bread fried in olive oil, platters of dates and nuts and mushrooms stuffed with cheese, and fresh fruit harvested from the orchards south of the city. There was no meat, sadly, but the herds of scutians and cows and pigs would accompany the army north and provide food on the way.

  Tamlin might have been slightly inebriated, but next to him Aegeus was drunk. His friend was red-faced and sweating and smiling, and Tamlin had lost count of how many goblets of wine he had drunk. Across the table from them sat Sir Parmenio and his wife. Even dour Parmenio was in a good mood, and his wife seemed happy, likely because his concubine had been left at home to watch the children. At the high table sat King Hektor and Prince Rypheus and Queen Adrastea and the chief officers of the realm. There was no sign of Master Nicion, but the Master of the Arcanii never came to banquets. That was just as well. His sour, suspicious nature would put a damper on the celebration.

  And Tamlin was in a splendid mood. He was with his friends, and he had a bellyful of good food and good wine, and he almost certainly wasn’t going to sleep alone tonight. Lady Calliande had told him that he drank and womanized to escape from the shadows in his mind, and she wasn’t wrong. But what of that? Tomorrow they would march to battle against Justin Cyros, and they might all perish.

  Find me again, whispered Tysia in his memories. The New God is coming.

  Tamlin could forget for a little while.

  The servants and the saurtyri returned, carrying out fresh pitchers of wine. Soon the time would come for the toasts. Tamlin would drink some more, and then seek out companionship for the night. He had several friends among the serving women and the daughters of the nobles attending, and he thought any one of them might like to slip away from the noise and heat of the banquet…

  Someone sat next to him, and Tamlin turned his head in surprise.

  Lady Kalussa stared at him, her lips pressed into a tight line.

  Tamlin blinked a few times. She really was an attractive woman. Especially when she was out of armor and wearing a dress. He contemplated leaning closer and trying to kiss her. Though that he was even contemplating the idea was sure proof that he had drunk too much wine.

  “Sir Tamlin,” said Kalussa. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

  Tamlin opened his mouth to answer, and Aegeus laughed.

  “Tamlin!” said Aegeus, swaying a little on the bench. “You have melted the ice princess’s heart! She’ll be in a better mood once you’re done with her, I’ll wager!”

  Kalussa said nothing, still staring at Tamlin.

  That caught Tamlin’s attention. Kalussa didn’t like Aegeus and had made no secret of her distaste for him. For her not to respond to Aegeus’s crude joke was out of character. She didn’t look like she had come to seduce Tamlin. She looked…

  She looked as she had during the siege of Castle Chaeldon, during Calem’s attack at Myllene.

  Something was wrong.

  “Yes, of course,” said Tamlin. “Please excuse me, my friends.”

  He rose and followed Kalussa to the corner of the hall near one of the pillars, where the roar of conversation was at least a little quieter.

  “What’s wrong?” said Tamlin.

  “I don’t know,” said Kalussa, folding her arms over her chest and looking at the high table. “But…I saw Prince Rypheus alone near the courtyard just now. He looked absolutely furious. I’ve never seen him like that. He was holding this thing in his hand. I don’t know what it was. It looked like a vial full of black liquid.” She shook her head. “Then he saw me and acted like he usually does.”

  Tamlin frowned. “Maybe he just wanted to be alone. Maybe…he’s worried about the battle. He’s the Constable of Aenesium, and he’ll have to be his father’s right hand. That is a heavy responsibility.”

  “I know,” said Kalussa. She shivered. It was hot in the hall, almost uncomfortably so, but she shivered nonetheless. “The hatred on his face, though…I’ve never seen him look like that, Sir Tamlin. I think there’s something wrong. I don’t know what it is, but I have a feeling that something terrible is about to happen.”

  Tamlin’s first thought was to dismiss her concerns. Perhaps she had gotten worked up over nothing. Ridmark had said that he and Kalussa had “quarreled,” and it was easy enough to guess the nature of that argument. No doubt the rejection had hit Kalussa hard, and maybe she was imaging things. He was tempted to tell her to sit down and to drink wine until she felt better.

  And yet…

  The Dark Lady had warned him.

  She had said that the servants of the New God would attack again, that when he saw rubies and gold, the attack would come. As usual, her warning had been cryptic. But her warnings had always been accurate, and they had saved his life more than once.

  “Why are you telling me this?” said Tamlin. “We’ve never gotten along.”

  Kalussa’s mouth twisted. “No. I would tell Lord Ridmark and Lady Calliande, but they’re…” Her face reddened.

  “Otherwise occupied,” said Tamlin.

  Kalussa nodded. “And…you’re not a fool, Tamlin Thunderbolt. A lecher, maybe, but not a fool. And you’ve had feelings like this before, haven’t you? When you warned us against the wraiths at Castra Chaeldon, or when you warned Lord Ridmark about the abscondamni. If anyone listened to me, it would be you.”

  Tamlin nodded.

  She looked away. “And…you did give me good advice. That day in the redwood forest. It happened almost exactly the way you said it would.” She sighed. “Maybe I should have heeded you.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Tamlin. “The downside of pessimism is that it’s unpleasant to be right.” He rubbed his jaw, looking over the hall. “The toasts are about to begin. Let’s wait near the dais. If something bad happens, it will be near King Hektor.”

  “Can we not do more?” said Kalussa.

  “Like what?” said Tamlin. “What can we do? Go to King Hektor and say that Prince Rypheus was scowling and that I believed your premonition of danger? The King’s first question will be how many goblets of wine we just drank.”

  Kalussa’s breath hissed through her teeth. “You’re right. Let’s wait near the dais.” She hesitated. “Sir Tamlin…thank you. For believing me.”

  Tamlin shrugged. “I hope you’ll get to discover one of the joys of pessimism.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s pleasant to be wrong.”

  ###

  Kalussa followed Tamlin to the final column before the dais as the toasts began.

  She was grateful that Tamlin had believed her, but she nonetheless felt foolish. Perhaps she was chasing shadows, or the unpleasantness with Ridmark yesterday had clouded her vision. Maybe she ought to go sit down, or just go to her room and then to sleep and hope she felt better in the morning.

  But she could not forget the cold hatred she had seen on Rypheus’s face.

  Silence fell over the hall as her father rose, a goblet in his hand. King Hektor thanked them all for coming, implored them to seek the favor of God and the saints in the coming battle, and called upon the men and women of Owyllain to lift their goblets in honor of the warriors of the realm who would march to war on the morrow.

  The assembly cheered and drained their goblets.

  Queen Adrastea arose and implored the women of Owyl
lain to remain loyal to their husbands as they went to war, to look after their shops and fields and homes, and to raise children who would fear God and be worthy sons and daughters of Owyllain.

  The assembled cheered the Queen and drained their goblets.

  More toasts followed from the Companion knights of the King and the magistrates of the realm. Kalussa looked for Rypheus and saw the Crown Prince sitting calmly at the high table. There was no trace of the hatred and rage she had seen earlier.

  Had she imagined it?

  Sir Arminios led a toast in the name of victory, and as he did, Rypheus got to his feet and walked behind the high table, stopping at the servants’ door near the foot of the dais. A saurtyri servant appeared there, holding a tray covered in a white cloth. Rypheus raised the cloth, did something Kalussa could not see, nodded, and lifted the cloth-covered object. The saurtyri stepped back, the empty tray still in its hands.

  No. Not empty. Something small and glittering rested on the tray. A crystal? A gemstone?

  An emptied vial.

  “Tamlin,” hissed Kalussa. “The vial. Do you see it?” Tamlin nodded. “There was something in it before. Something black. I think he poured it out.”

  “My lords and ladies!” called Rypheus, stepping to the high table. “Your attention, please!”

  ###

  Tamlin looked from the empty vial on the retreating saurtyri servant’s tray to the cloth-covered object in Rypheus’s hands.

  No, it couldn’t be. This was Rypheus Pendragon, the Crown Prince of Aenesium, the Constable of the city, King Hektor’s strong right hand and heir. Why on earth would he harm his father? It didn’t make any sense.

  But that empty vial…

  “Let us drink to victory!” said Rypheus. “Let us drink to the overthrow of our foes! Father, if you would lead us in a toast?”

  With a flourish, he tossed aside the cloth, passing something to King Hektor, who rose to receive it. The King lifted the object, and Tamlin saw that it was a goblet brimming with wine. The goblet had been wrought of gold, its bowl adorned with gemstones. Come to think of it, Tamlin had seen that goblet several times before. The King often used it on formal occasions.

  Red light flashed as Hektor raised the goblet.

  “To victory!” thundered Hektor.

  Red light. The gemstones in the goblet were rubies.

  “To victory!” thundered the assembly.

  Rubies…

  And in a single horrified instant, Tamlin understood.

  “But when you see rubies and gold,” said the Dark Lady in his memory, “just as you saw the green glass shatter, know that death is at hand.”

  “No!” shouted Tamlin. “The wine is poisoned! The wine is poisoned!”

  Kalussa gave him a sharp look, but no one else did. The assembly was cheering and shouting for victory, and Tamlin’s words were lost in the din.

  Hektor lifted the goblet to his lips and started to drink.

  Frantic, Tamlin sprinted for the dais.

  ***

  Chapter 18: Old Grudges

  In that horrible moment, time slowed for Tamlin Thunderbolt.

  He saw Rypheus smiling at the King, saw Hektor’s throat working as he swallowed the wine. Tamlin couldn’t reach him in time, couldn’t shout a warning.

  He did the only thing he could.

  Magic flowed through him, and he cast a spell. A weak lightning bolt arced from his hand and struck the goblet, blasting it from Hektor’s grasp. It struck the table and bounced away, spraying the remaining wine in all directions.

  There wasn’t much left. Hektor had drunk most of it.

  The hall exploded into motion.

  Knights and Companions drew their swords, rushing towards Tamlin. Rypheus drew his own sword and stepped next to his father. The nearest Arcanii began casting spells, calling fire and lightning and ice to destroy the man who had raised his hand against the King of Aenesium. That would be enough magical power to blast him to ashes, and Tamlin raised his hands. Kalussa followed suit a moment later.

  The roar of a thousand shouting voices filled the hall.

  “Silence!” thundered Hektor.

  The assembly was loud, but Hektor was louder.

  The din died away.

  “Take them both!” said Rypheus, pointing his sword. “They have tried to assassinate the King! Take them both!”

  “My King!” shouted Tamlin as the hoplites and the Arcanii approached. “The wine was poisoned. Listen to me! The wine was poisoned!”

  “They have drawn weapons against the King of Aenesium!” said Rypheus. “Kill them both!”

  The men advanced on Tamlin, eyes wary, faces doubting.

  “Father!” said Kalussa, and Hektor’s confused gaze shifted to them. “I swear on the name of the Dominus Christus that Sir Tamlin is telling the truth!”

  “What are you waiting for?” said Rypheus. “You all saw what happened with your own eyes. As Constable of Aenesium, I command you to cut down these would-be assassins! Cut them down now!”

  “Hold!” said Hektor, raising his hand. “Sir Tamlin, Kalussa, what do you have to say for yourselves?”

  ###

  Rypheus glared at Tamlin and Kalussa, fury exploding through him.

  She knew. Somehow, despite all the odds, his miserable bitch of a half-sister had realized the truth. He cursed himself as a fool. Struck by the enormity of what he was about to do, by the momentous destiny awaiting him, he had gone off to gather his thoughts and collect himself. Hektor might have been a coward and a weakling who had been unable to save Rypheus’s mother, but he was still Rypheus’s father. Killing one’s own father, no matter how much he richly deserved the death, was still a grave matter.

  Yet Hektor deserved it. The great and mighty Hektor Pendragon, the man who had defended Owyllain from the Confessor and Justin Cyros and the Necromancer and the Masked One. The pathetic fool had been unable to save Queen Helen, and he deserved to die for that. And she had barely been in her grave before Hektor had been rutting with his concubines. He had even taken a new wife.

  Rypheus had never, ever forgiven his father for that.

  Well, Hektor would pay for his crimes tonight. And unlike his father, Rypheus had been wise enough to see the truth of the New God. The New God would dominate the world, and no one and nothing could stop it. Indeed, all of Hektor’s efforts to save Owyllain and free that fool Kothlaric had only moved the New God’s advent all the closer.

  Rypheus had stood on the balcony, wrapped in his dark thoughts…and then Kalussa had stumbled upon him.

  He had no idea why she had been wandering the Palace. Likely his whorish half-sister had been sulking after her tawdry attempt to seduce the Shield Knight had failed. But the reasons didn’t matter. She had seen him holding the vial, and he feared that some of his true thoughts had been visible on his face. He had donned his smiling mask once more, but clearly, it had been too late.

  Then he realized it didn’t matter.

  None of it mattered. Nearly everyone in this hall would be dead in a few moments anyway. All Rypheus had to do was to delay until the poison took effect and Hektor was unable to bring the power of the Sword of Fire to bear. Then Rypheus could call the abscondamni, and the real work would begin.

  Which meant Rypheus only needed to delay a few moments.

  “I saw Prince Rypheus holding a glass vial of black liquid,” said Kalussa. “I didn’t know what it was. But then I saw him take the jeweled goblet from a saurtyri servant, and the emptied vial was upon the tray. He must have poured the liquid into the goblet.”

  Rypheus laughed. “This is ridiculous. Father, must I listen to these lies?”

  “They are not lies, my King,” said Tamlin. “I saw the vial on the saurtyri’s tray as well.”

  “Fine,” said Rypheus. “Someone go to the kitchens and fetch that saurtyri. See if you can find this mysterious vial that has caused so much trouble.” A few of the knights ran towards the kitchens. “But I know what this is all
about.”

  “Oh?” said Tamlin. “Do enlighten us.”

  “The Shield Knight,” said Rypheus. He glanced around the hall. Just where the hell were the Shield Knight and the Keeper? Rypheus wanted to make sure he had many abscondamni between him and the powerful outlanders when the fighting began. “We know that my father offered Kalussa to the Shield Knight as a concubine, and he rejected her.” Kalussa scowled, her face darkening. “It seems the rejection has deranged my poor sister, and she thinks to engage in false heroics to draw the Shield Knight’s eye. Though it is a pity that she seduced so valiant a knight as Tamlin Thunderbolt to believe her lies.”

  “They were not lies,” said Tamlin. “I saw the vial as well. Lady Kalussa is telling the truth.”

  “The truth of the matter will be known soon enough,” said Hektor, though the doubt was obvious on his face. He shook his head and rubbed his throat. “Once we have returned from Cathair Animus, my brother will set the realm to rights once more.”

  “Cathair Animus?” said Kalussa, confused.

  Rypheus tried to keep the excitement hidden. The poison was working. Just a little longer…

  “Yes, Cathair Animus,” said Hektor, blinking. He had been sweating from the wine and the heat of the hall, but now his face had gone pale beneath his gray beard. “We must take the Seven Swords there to destroy them. The Guardian Rhodruthain and Master Talitha will help us destroy the evil things.” He blinked, swayed, and grabbed at the back of his chair. “Where…where is Helen?”

  “Helen, husband?” said Adrastea, touching his forearm. “She had been dead for many years.”

  Hektor stared at her, trying to form words, and then he toppled over, landing behind the high table with a crash. A gasp rose from the assembled guests, and both men and women began shouting.

  “Make way!” shouted Rypheus, kneeling next to Hektor. “Make way!”

  He grabbed the Sword of Fire by its scabbard, careful not to touch the weapon, and wrenched it away from Hektor’s belt, sending it spinning across the floor to stop against the wall.