The Weight of Darkness (Catalyst Book 5)

by C. J. Aaron

  “None would have blamed you if you did,” Ryl added. “The thought is never far from my mind anytime something inadvertently triggers their memories. You showed remarkable control over your emotions and restraint.”

  “The anger in my veins burned white hot,” he added. “I felt like I was melting inside. I could hear, no, feel the voices of the alexen resounding through my body. They begged for peace.”

  Ryl took a moment to look at the unawakened by his side. Cray leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. His shoulders rolled back; he seemed for the first time unburdened by the weight of uncertainty that had plagued him for nearly half of his life.

  “You did the right thing.” Ryl was sincere, though he couldn’t help but feel a bit envious of his friend. The opportunity was a chance likely few would have. “Justified or not, every death at your hands will haunt you. Hopefully you can put her behind you, banish her from your memory, as she had given up on you. Let that be your revenge.”

  “Thank you, Ryl,” he whispered.

  No more words were needed to convey the sentiment. Ryl felt the outpouring of gratitude louder than the words that issued from his mouth.

  “Yet it was Lenu who accomplished what all were likely thinking,” he added with a grin.

  “I had my money on Andr,” Ryl added, enjoying the moment of jest. “We all have our demons. He is far from perfect, yet you’re unlikely to find any more devoted. You’re lucky to have him as a father.”

  Cray’s gaze met with his, holding while the range of emotions played through his mind. Ryl could see the torment shift to fear. The fear morphed into a resigned sense of peace.

  “I know,” was all he replied.

  For a few moments, ahead of what was to be an eventful day, they enjoyed nothing but the ironically blissful ending to the conversation.

  It wasn’t long before the first rays of light began to brighten the horizon to the east. Lighter shades of purple pushed against the dark violet of the night; the stars winked out one after the other. By the time the early predawn hours had arrived, they had moved the guards and the women out the back door of the inn, secreting them away in an ill-used corner of an abandoned building that shared the rear alley between the structure. The guards were stripped of their uniforms and securely bound to the beams that supported the loft above their heads. The women were similarly secured together on the other side of the room. Their bonds were never meant to be permanent. They’d leave none to guard them as they left. By the time any were released or freed himself, there would be no stopping the events that were to come.

  Andr remained on guard as the others prepared to abandon the security of the inn for the cramped confinement of the wagon. He had joined Paelec and Cavlin, dressing in the uniforms confiscated from Lord Kyoris’s guards. He wiped at a small stain on the right sleeve of the outfit. They had worked to scrub the blood from the clothing; even with their efforts, some remained. Nielix, Dav and Millis would join them in the borrowed garb once they rejoined the party after their grim task was complete.

  Ryl searched the library of memories that the alexen maintained for details of the great hall. He viewed the images as if they were events occurring only in the recent past, yet the span of over one thousand cycles separated the thoughts. The descriptions matched with the brief yet thorough depiction that Mender Brahn had painted. The entry for nobility and their entourage was positioned under a vast arching bridge. From there, a grand staircase led to the entry to the Hall of the King. Inside the wagon, they would be seen by few until they entered the confines of the palace.

  The illusion required to span the distance was a daunting proposition. In the bright light of day, under the scrutiny of an unknown number of guards and nobles alike, details would be important. Ryl closed his eyes, breathing in a deep steadying breath, concentrating on the images he’d chosen. The illusion, though thorough, would only need to be maintained for less than a few minutes.

  Once inside the hall, there was no need for further disguise.

  “The sun is nearly up,” Paelec commented, snapping Ryl’s attention to the present. “It’s time to go.”

  Ramm took his position at the driver’s seat of the wagon. The wood groaned under his considerable weight. Redressed in the drab civilian clothing from Lord Eligar, he would strike an imposing form. Once Paasek joined him, they would no doubt make a startling impression due to their sheer size alone. Lenu and the three unawakened climbed into the wagon. Vox would be joining them soon enough. A great deal of illusion would be required to disguise their appearance, so proximity would be important.

  “I’ll collect Andr; then we’ll go,” Ryl added as he hastened to where the mercenary guarded the door. His heart skipped a beat as he rounded the corner of the building only to find an open door standing unguarded. In a few strides, he reached the opening; one hand fell behind his back as he clenched the wooden handle of the Leaves.

  There was little light inside the abandoned room, though a single lantern illuminated a portion of the room. Enough light spilled from its weak flame to confirm that the unwitting inhabitants still remained. Andr was in the process of taking a knee beside Lord Kyoris’s harem. Ryl relaxed his grip on the weapon behind him though he increased his pace. A glint of light flashed off the naked blade in the mercenary’s hand.

  “It’s time, Andr,” Ryl announced as he approached.

  The mercenary nodded, though his attention was directed forward, intent on the woman who had mothered his child.

  “Aye. This is a kindness far greater than you deserve,” he growled as he rotated the blade in his hand. “Listen to me and listen closely, for this conversation will never happen again. Disappear. When you walk away from this place, disappear. If I ever hear your name again, I will hunt you down. If I see you again, I’ll watch the last breath fade from your body. Do you understand me?”

  The ladies accompanying her, bound and gagged, struggled against their bonds. Tears streamed from Alera’s eyes, though the fear was overwhelming. She offered a quick, subtle nod.

  Without another word, Andr turned, collecting the lantern and stalking from the room.

  Ryl followed at his heels, pausing with him as he closed the door to the improvised cell.

  “How long before they free themselves?” Ryl inquired. He knew the mercenary well enough not to broach the subject. Like his son, he’d be putting the episode behind him.

  “Not long,” he offered. His words came out short, as the lingering emotion was still raw. He moved through the alley with a determination to his step. “Their bonds are weak, perhaps an hour. Maybe more.”

  “Aye,” Ryl offered. “They will have started the fires. We need to make haste.”

  Their companions and the wagon waited for them as they rounded the end of the alley. Ryl and Andr hopped onto the low step along the back; Paelec and Cavlin were positioned on either side. They would be shorthanded even with the addition of their companions, yet the oversight would likely matter little.

  With a single curt order and the crack of the lead, the wagon lurched forward. The sky had brightened significantly; the halo of yellow pushed upward, silhouetting the palatial complex against the lightning blue of the horizon. This sliver of Leremont, close to the port, was hidden partially by the ridge where the palace sat. Though the eastern edge of the throne of Damaris was partially bathed in the light of the new day, the city here was still wrapped in darkness. A flickering orange glow brightened the city not far to their west.

  The pyre had been set.

  Now it was their turn to light the rest of the kingdom ablaze.

  Chapter 42

  The steady clop of the horses’ hooves echoed off the stone buildings that bordered the main arching avenue of the second ring. The hours preceding had been silent. They had been diligent in their watch over the area, though none had moved through the streets. The city had finally fallen into a peaceful slumber.

  They would awake to a frantic morning.

/>   Already signs of activity were mounting. The citizens they passed on the street generally kept their heads down, giving their wagon a wide berth. They hadn’t travelled far before the sounds of alarm were raised in the distance. The ringing of bells soon sounded through the area as the presence of the fire had been noted. The inhabitants and the sleepy city streets came alive within the first few booming chimes of the bells. Looking behind them, flames could be seen dancing above the peaks of the buildings.

  The progress of the wagon slowed as the citizens began filling the streets. Many ran with buckets of all shapes and sizes, calling to their neighbors as they raced in the direction of the blaze. Ryl scanned over the crowd, focusing his mindsight, searching for signs of Vox and Paasek’s movement. It was with a sigh of relief that he captured the signatures of the phrenics hastening ahead, slightly to the west of their position.

  “Ramm, can you see them?” Ryl called over the rattle of the wagon. The massive phrenic turned his head, pointing his finger in the direction of their signatures as he nodded his head. The blackened stain of the Lei Guard still registered along the periphery of his vision, yet it remained stagnant.

  Travel along the avenue quickly became a frustrating process as the street choked with a steady flow of humanity. Either searching for any way to assist, or merely watching the spectacle unfold, they took to the avenue, grinding their progress to a sluggish pace. Ryl felt his frustration mounting as they plodded forward. Ryl chided himself for the flaws in his logic. The desire to see some semblance of a final resting place for his brethren had cost them precious time. He knew the response would provide some level of distraction, though the severity had eclipsed his expectations. His frustration mounted as Ramm pulled the wagon off the main avenue, entering a small square. The initial response was negated by the familial warmth that grew in the presence of the phrenics. Vox and Paasek materialized from the shadows of the narrow alley tucked between two shops. Millis, Dav and Nielix followed closely in their wake.

  The momentary break from the grueling travel was welcome. The attention of the citizens was elsewhere, giving them ample time to organize their stations along the wagon. The Vigil and Millis were quick to change into the borrowed clothing before assuming their stations along the exterior of the wagon. Vox and Ryl slipped inside the cramped carriage while Paasek joined Ramm at the head. Though the wagon rumbled from the square within moments, every passing breath raised Ryl’s anxiety. Every moment of delay interrupted the timing of their entrance. Too early and the nobles would have yet to assemble. Too late and they risked being denied entrance.

  Thankfully, the latter in a sense was nothing more than an inconvenience. There were no walls or doors that could keep him from entering the chamber. They had made it to the capital.

  The Ascertaining Decree would fall.

  The age of tributes, or the fabled elixir, would be at an end.

  No sooner had the wagon started rolling than Ramm pulled it to an abrupt halt. The horses nickered at the command, though they acquiesced begrudgingly. The massive beasts blew large puffs of air from their nostrils in protest. The commotion from the avenue beyond increased in volume. The rapid cadence of heavy boots marching filled the air. Ryl peered through the window as the wagon waited for the soldiers to pass. The stream of armed guards was long; Ryl estimated several hundred rushed to manage the raging inferno before it consumed more of the city. Their focus was intent; thankfully few took note of the waiting wagon. None paid them any mind.

  The road had cleared in the wake of the soldiers’ passing. The bells, sounding the alarm that had echoed through the city, had quieted. Within several hundred meters, life seemed to return to a sense of normalcy. Though flames and smoke still billowed into the sky, the greater gap between themselves and the incident diminished the personal concern of the citizens. Most went about their day, casting only fleeting glances at the column of smoke stretching into the sky.

  It wasn’t long before they reached the first gate; the stone entry between the second and the first ring loomed ahead. The walls between the rings were thin, in most places only wide enough to create the illusion of security. The barrier was only three to four meters tall and far too narrow to handle foot traffic along its peak. Several towers sprouted over the top of the stone, yet they were positioned only where the main avenues crossed through the gates.

  The large wooden panels of the door were thrown open, yet a contingent of guards manned the gap.

  “This will be our first test, Ryl,” Andr whispered through the side window into the carriage. “Keep the blinds drawn.”

  With the heavy blinds closed, the interior of the carriage was dark. They had let the lantern that swung overhead burn low. If any were to inspect the wagon, the dim light would no doubt aid the illusion. With his view of the outside having been reduced to the thin slits between the curtains, Ryl felt his anxiety swell. The claustrophobic feeling of the wagon harkened dark memories from cycles earlier.

  The cramped confines of the black wagon that had delivered him to The Stocks would never fade. Every bump of the wagon over the cobblestone road reminded him of being jostled against the rough interior. The lingering sweet, floral aromas, residual effects of Lord Kyoris’s harem, were anything but enticing. The scents, though pleasant, reminded him of the foul stench that had permeated the wood, its intensity growing as the sweltering heat accentuated its vile odor. The tragic impact of that single ride on his consciousness would be eternal.

  At a call from the guards, the wagon slowed. The steady rattling of the wheels over the stone ground to a halt. Ryl heard the stomp of the boots as the soldiers manning the gate inspected the exterior of the carriage.

  “Passage is prohibited on order of Lord Kagran,” the gruff voice called from along the side of the wagon. The carriage shifted slightly as Andr hopped down from the railing on the side. “All travel has been restricted due to the Deliverance.”

  “Sir, this will not do.” Andr’s voice was firm, yet lacked the insubordination that Ryl felt massing within his veins. “It is because of the Deliverance that we were placed so far from the Hall of the King. It seems no lodging was secured closer to the capital for Lord Kyoris’s ladies. Lord Kagran was gracious enough to find us a suitable dwelling, yet with the commotion this morning, our arrival has been delayed. We cannot risk arriving late.”

  As Andr spoke, Ryl felt the persuasive emotion emanating from Paasek, who rode at the head of the wagon beside Ramm. The elder phrenic councilor was well versed in the application of his skills; his manipulation would be subtle, yet sufficient.

  “I have orders,” the guard replied after a moment of consideration. “Open the blinds.”

  “As you command,” Andr noted. Ryl heard the footsteps approaching the edge of the wagon. The tension choked the air inside the wagon. The unawakened shifted uncomfortably in the plush seats. Lenu shifted toward the window opposite him.

  Ryl closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the images he’d practiced. The results were dramatic. The road-weary apparel that they’d carried for miles had vanished beneath a cloak of flowing colored fabric, encrusted with jewels that sparkled even in the low light of the wagon. Thin veils covered the heads of all; colored ribbons were tied into the flowing locks of the others.

  He looked down at his own hands. They were wrapped in white gloves that stretched up his forearms to where they disappeared beneath the sleeves of the blouse. His cloak had been replaced by a flowing gown of silken material. The sensation of the illusion was disturbing. The unnatural coverings were visible, yet they lay across his skin without the slightest touch of fabric against his flesh. Closest to the window, Lenu sat forward, arching her back slightly.

  At the rap on the side of the wagon door, she opened the curtain, glaring at the guard who peered inside with agitation that cut through the veil over her face like daggers.

  “I do hope you’ll be so kind as to explain our delay to Lord Kyoris,” she hissed. Her voice dripped with hau
ghty arrogance and disdain. “He will not respond kindly to the delay, or the questions it will raise.”

  The guard pulled his head back slightly at the vehemence of the verbal affront. He angled his head from side to side, peering into the wagon, inspecting the passengers within. After a few moments, he withdrew from the edge of the carriage. Lenu wasted no opportunity to slam the curtains shut as soon as his face retreated.

  “Carry on,” he ordered. “Apologies for the delay. I’ll send a rider ahead of your arrival so you won’t be delayed at the next gate.”

  “Thank you, sir, for your consideration,” Andr voiced as he hopped onto the side rail once again.

  Ramm urged the horses forward without delay. Ryl held the illusion long enough for the rider to thunder past as he raced for the final gate. The receding sounds of the hooves on the stone left him with an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. Whatever the message that was conveyed in advance of their arrival was entirely out of their control. Every stride of the massive horses that pulled their carriage moved them deeper into the realm of uncertainty. He longed for the best-case scenario, though he steeled himself for the worst.

  Blood would be spilled before the day was through.

  How much was the question.

  Behind the gate, the road had been clogged by the press of humanity. The citizens had taken to the streets, hastening to assist the growing threat of the fire, or moving to complete whatever task provided for the financial independence of their family. Here, amid the next higher tier of society, the attitude was dramatically altered. As the size of the rings of Leremont constricted, so too did the volume of denizens included in the mix. The inner ring, bordering none other than the seat of the king, dripped with a superiority that was sickening. The purposeful activities of the outer rings were lost here behind a general attitude of apathy.

  Ryl sneered as he spied the ornate trappings of the few citizens in the streets. The slightly pitched road was free of debris; a fragrant aroma floated in the air. The further toward the capital complex they travelled, the increasingly well maintained and manicured the surroundings became. Shops were open along the street; merchants arranged their wares in display windows or on small tables along the edge of the avenue. Small cafes bustled with early morning business. There was an air of excitement to the activity here. Longing glances were routinely directed toward the capital.