Rise of Darkness (The Watchers Book 2)

by M. Lee Holmes

  “It will take both of you to complete this task.” The King had informed them and Mayvard noticed a smile spread across Captain Theodoric’s face. He feels no guilt in betraying his commander, Mayvard realized. He knew that he had to find Rhada and quickly.

  He had spent all the rest of that day searching for her; in her chamber, around the castle grounds, but it seemed as though she had disappeared into the castle walls. She did not even make an appearance when Mayvard labored in the yard, helping their guests make camp. Their tents were erected behind the castle, lining the grassy field until they touched the edge of the forest. There were so many of them, the castle grounds were now a sea of white and brown cloth with a few hastily erected smithies spread throughout. She had not even appeared to help the armies of the north settle.

  Something is wrong, Mayvard knew as he walked the corridors in search of her. It is not like her to vanish this way. He began to wonder if something terrible had happened to her. He tried to push the thought aside.

  Now, as he sat in the dining chamber with all the celebrating men, he kept his eyes searching the room continuously for any sign of Rhada but she never appeared.

  “Is something the matter?” Myranda asked. Mayvard had almost forgotten that she sat at his side. He turned his attention to her and saw that she had not taken a bite of her roasted pork either. Both their plates sat untouched in front of them.

  “I have not seen Rhada all day.” Mayvard replied in a whisper. “Come to think of it, I’ve not seen her for nearly a week, and I need to speak with her; tis a matter of urgency.”

  “What is?” Myranda asked with curiosity.

  Mayvard merely shook his head and turned away from her. He wasn’t certain how to say the words aloud, not even to Myranda. He feared what would happen when he found Rhada and had to tell her the news. He feared how she would react. She was stubborn and headstrong and he was afraid that she would bring harm down upon herself.

  A warm hand reached up and wrapped itself around Mayvard’s arm. He turned and found Myranda watching him with intent eyes.

  “What is troubling you, my love?” She asked, pleading with him through her gaze to confide in her.

  Mayvard shook his head. “I cannot tell you here, while we are surrounded by the King’s men.”

  “Tell me later then, when we are alone.”

  Mayvard nodded, but as he looked away from Myranda, his gaze fell upon the King. He sat at the head of the table with his crown sparkling in the candlelight and a grin upon his face. It was a grin of pure satisfaction.

  Mayvard’s gaze remained fixed upon the King’s wandering eyes, which stared with a prideful gleam at the men surrounding him. He knew what the King was thinking; that he had won this war. It was impossible to think that with the forces of the north joined with his army, there could be any other outcome.

  Mayvard wished he could wipe the smirk off the King’s face. He wished he could rush up there, sword in hand, and run the King through, ridding the realm of him once and for all. But these fantasies were foolish. He was powerless. He could do nothing. All he could do was hope to find Rhada in time before the King decided to act. He looked back to Myranda and decided she could help him find her. But a growing fear began to take hold of him as he looked to the woman he loved. She could help him, yes, but how long would it take? How much time did he have? He could not answer these questions himself and he suddenly feared by the time he found her, it would be too late.

  That night, when all was quiet and serene and drunken soldiers lined the halls, a small rat scurried about on tiny legs, stepping lithely over limbs and racing away from the deafening sound of their snores. These were the men who had drank too much ale at supper and failed to make it to their tents outside. But the rat did not focus its attention on them. The rat’s eyes were focused on the object that moved ahead of it. Though the rat ran as quickly as it could, it could not catch up with the black figure moving down the hall and soon, it turned a corner and was out of sight. But the rat knew where it was heading so it continued to run and turned the corner in time to see the chamber door slowly shut with a creak.

  Myranda squeezed her way through the small crack underneath the door and scurried around the edges of the room until she came to rest at the High Protector’s feet.

  Rhada stood at her wine cabinet and pulled a bottle of clear liquid from the shelf. Myranda recognized Derrick’s silver spirit concoction and shuddered. She had tasted it only once and the burning memory of it made her mouth water as though she were about to lose her supper.

  Rhada did not bother pouring the liquor into a glass but carried the bottle with her to the veranda where she stood and rested her arms upon the balustrade. Myranda followed her outside, backing herself into a corner of the balcony where she would not be seen. Her nose crinkled with the strong smell of the silver spirit as Rhada raised the bottle to her lips and took a long, hard drink. Myranda wondered how she was able to fill her mouth with so much of the vile liquid without vomiting.

  Myranda had been patrolling the hallways all night in search for Rhada. After Mayvard had told her of the King’s plans, she decided to find the High Protector herself. It was not until every last soldier was asleep that Rhada emerged. She found her patrolling the hallways and even followed her outside into the night, changing into a crow and soaring on black wings as Rhada shuffled through row after row of tents, apparently taking inventory of the men she now had at her disposal.

  She wanted to find Rhada to see if any misfortune had fallen upon her and now that she saw the High Protector was still amongst them and healthy, she desired nothing more than to retreat back to her own room. She would tell Mayvard in the morning that she had had a vision of Rhada still within the castle walls to ease his anxiety. She could not, however, tell him that she had followed Rhada without giving away her secret.

  As she was about to turn away, she heard a soft whimper and a sniffle escape from Rhada. Myranda froze and looked up to the towering image of the High Protector but could not see her face. She could see the bottle, now half empty in her hands and she could see that Rhada trembled. Then something large fell and splashed upon the ground next to Myranda, making her jump. She felt the spray of water soak her fur and wondered for a moment if it was raining. She sniffed at the salty liquid and realized with astonishment that it was a tear. The High Protector was crying.

  Rhada stared off into the distance without actually seeing. Her thoughts were somewhere else completely and she was barely even aware of the silver spirit in her hands. The only thing that brought her back to her senses was the burning of the liquor as she took a mechanical drink from the jug.

  She was thinking of a different time, when she was younger. She had been happy once, ecstatic even. There was a man with golden hair and brown eyes. She remembered those eyes as if she were still staring into them. He had offered her a different life, a way out of the hell she found herself living in. She tried to imagine what it would have been like. She pictured a smithy, deep in the heart of Axendra, where she was still making swords but never using them. She would have learned to cook and take care of a household like any other wife in the realm. Perhaps there would have been children, though the idea of children frightened her even more than the impending battle.

  She tried to imagine what they would have looked like. Would they have my dark hair or hair the color of the sun? Brown eyes or gray like mine? No matter how desperately she tried to grasp an image, none would come to her. Because it was never meant to be.

  She took another sip and remembered briefly where she was, all too aware of the sword that hung at her side. Bloodbinder hummed to her, trying to give her some small comfort but there was no comfort to be had. Bloodbinder knew what she was thinking- it knew that she was on the brink of destroying herself.

  She considered for a moment, laying it upon the bed and sneaking out whilst the castle slept. Perhaps she would travel to Lerous and board a ship, never to return; leave the realm to its fate.
But there was a darkness within her that she could not run from. She tried to tell herself that it was the King and Queen she needed to be rid of but she was just as much to blame as they were. The orders came from the King but it was by her hands they were carried out. She felt her hands begin to shake and took another drink. She tried to think upon the children once again; her imaginary life. But the heaviness in her heart could not be erased by imagining that she was someone else, living a life she was never meant to live.

  She knew she could not run. She knew what she deserved and it was not a fresh start. She felt, for the first time, that she could no longer protect Axendra nor was she worthy of such a task. Axendra deserved someone better. She no longer felt that she had a place in this world and it made her feel as though she was sinking.

  More than once over the last several days she had imagined turning the sword on herself. But if she ended her own life, Bloodbinder’s magic would die with her, the evil that gathered in the north would spread and the people of Kaena would have no way to fight it.

  I am stuck here. She realized. Whether she wanted to or not, she had to fight for the King- she had to defend his castle against Lord Ivran and she would be even more hated than she was now.

  She had been plagued by these emotions ever since finding poor Emeric. She had no desire to see or speak to anyone and had locked herself away, even from Mayvard.

  More than once he had come knocking on her chamber door but she kept her silence, pretending to be away. Though it made her feel guilty ignoring him, she could not bring herself to face anyone. She knew he must be livid, frantic with the task of dealing with the newly arrived armies as she should have been doing. But no matter the extent of her guilt, she would not answer his call. To open the door and let the outside world in would be letting the King in. And Rhada feared she would not be able to control herself around him. She would not be able to keep her sword hand calm. Bloodbinder saw in the King what Rhada was beginning to understand and it urged her to take action.

  Rhada did not realize that her eyes had begun to water and a single tear fell to the ground. She wiped at her cheek and scowled, ashamed of herself for having these thoughts. As High Protector, she was supposed to be certain of herself and strong, not weak and vulnerable as she was now.

  She drank the last of her silver spirit and turned away from the outside world. She walked to her door and made certain the key in the lock was turned so no outsiders could reach her then unstrapped Bloodbinder and threw it upon the bed as though touching the sword caused her physical pain. She sauntered to her winged chair and fell into it, closing her eyes and squeezing away the last of the tears that forced their way through.

  Myranda watched in silence as Rhada fell heavily into her chair and more tears streamed down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around herself and pulled her knees up like an injured child then buried her head into her chest.

  She could not imagine what could possibly be wrong with Rhada but something about her seemed more human than ever before. Myranda had never seen this side of the High Protector and she felt it strange that she suddenly pitied the woman. What a lonely life she lives.

  Myranda decided it best to sneak out while Rhada was not paying attention and she rushed to the door to squeeze through the bottom. When she reached her own chamber, she shifted back into herself and wrapped her robe tightly around her naked form. She stepped out onto her own veranda and sighed. The night was slowly turning into morning and Myranda felt a pang of sadness fill her heart- a sadness that she could not explain.

  …

  The council sat in the great hall at a circular table. The King was seated in front of the hearth, an elbow resting upon the tabletop and his hand holding his head up. It seemed to Mayvard that he struggled to stay awake. As he looked over the rest of the council and the men who had come from Elipol and Bhrys, he noticed that most seemed to be just as exhausted as the King. Their night of drinking and celebrating has caught up with them.

  The great hall was now as it usually was; a fire in the hearth and only half the candles lit. There were no more people singing and drinking, only the men who had come to fight. It seemed as though with the drink from the night before, the impending battle had all but been forgotten until this very moment. As they sat and stared off into the darkness of the room, their minds were now flooded with thoughts of fighting their enemies. Mayvard knew the look of sullen men just before a battle. It was a look of fear and doubt; doubt that they would ever see their loved ones again.

  As he looked upon their faces, he realized that one face was missing. Rhada had yet to show herself. Mayvard had told Myranda everything the previous night and she closed her eyes and desperately tried to envision where Rhada could be hiding.

  “I’m sorry, Mayvard.” She had said regretfully. “You know my visions do not work that way. I cannot command them to come to me.” Mayvard had given up on trying to find her. She will have to show herself eventually, he had thought. But that very morning, as he was making his way to the council, Myranda had stopped him in the hall and whispered that she had seen Rhada in her dreams and she was still within the castle walls, seeking solitude. Mayvard, though disconcerted by Rhada’s apparent need to be left alone, was relieved. He had half expected her to be in council already by the time he arrived, but when he stepped into the great hall, he could see that she was still absent.

  Finally, the King sighed in frustration. Mayvard could clearly see the dismay on the King’s face as he looked over his council.

  “I suppose we will get started without her.” He said. Even though the King did not say her name, the whole council knew he was speaking of Rhada.

  “Captain Mayvard.” The King said, pulling Mayvard’s attention to council. “In the High Protector’s absence, you are in charge. Let us talk strategy.”

  Mayvard’s eyes darted to the men who surrounded him. Suddenly, he felt nervous as he stared at the faces of his new comrades. He had been unable to find Rhada and therefore, had not been able to speak with her about her plans for the upcoming battle. He felt uncertain how to go about giving orders to these men he hardly knew.

  After a few moments of silence, Mayvard opened his mouth and was about to speak when the doors to the great hall were thrown open. The sound echoed around him in the emptiness and he turned around to find Rhada hastily approaching. She was dressed in her black leathers, Bloodbinder dangled at her side and her hair flowed freely down her back in large waves. She stopped when she reached the edge of the table and stared at the men around her. She did not bow to the King as she should have and only turned her attention to him when he spoke.

  “Good of you to join us.” King Firion said with an air of disdain. Mayvard shuddered when he saw the look of loathing the King shot at her. Rhada, however, only stared back for a moment, ignoring the King’s threatening gaze. She turned her eyes back towards the council and began;

  “We’ll need three hosts of men surrounding the castle. Protector Hanley, you will take charge of your archers and join me on the battlements. Captain Theodoric, you shall command a host of your finest at the front gates. You will be in charge of securing the gates and making certain that Lord Ivran’s approach is slowed. If they breach the gates and make their way through the city, they will be greeted by most of our forces inside. Lord Guyon, you and your Protector shall lead our cavalry at the castle base. Captain Mayvard, you will take charge of the infantry. I want you to set up a good, strong perimeter around the castle; one that will be nigh impossible to penetrate.”

  “What if they breach the castle?” Protector Josef asked.

  Rhada glowered at Josef with harsh eyes. “If they breach the castle then we have not done our jobs properly.” Finally, she turned her attention to the King.

  “Majesty, you and the Queen shall be locked and guarded inside your chamber.”

  The King scoffed. “You wish for me to hide from battle like a frightened little girl?”

  “It has worked well for you in
the past.” She said with hatred and Mayvard could feel the tension in the room rising.

  “How dare you?” The King shouted. He pushed himself from his chair and began walking around the table but when Rhada spoke, he stopped.

  “You are a target.” She said flatly. “It is my duty to keep you and the Queen safe. In times of direct endangerment to the crown, my orders exceed yours.” The King looked to her with eyes that wanted to kill. Mayvard knew the King could not retort. The law clearly stated that should the King or Queen’s lives be in jeopardy, the High Protector became the highest ranking individual in the realm and all orders from them shall be honored by the crown.

  “I will station guards outside your chamber door, but know this,” she leaned forward for all to hear, “should our enemies get inside the castle, it is over. Our only hope is to keep them at bay. Does everyone understand this?” All the council nodded, including Mayvard.

  “Good.” She said, leaning away from the table. Mayvard watched as she placed her right hand on the hilt of Bloodbinder and stood for a moment in silence. She seemed to be contemplating something but then she turned and began leaving the great hall.

  With her back turned to them, she shouted; “make certain that all your men are ready for battle by the end of the day!” And then she stepped through the doors and disappeared from Mayvard’s view once again.

  Lord Ivran’s steed marched with pride in his steps. His tail whipped excitedly in the air as they traveled towards battle. He knew the warhorse had sat idle for too long. It had been bred for war and now the familiar sounds of men marching and weapons clanging had filled its ears and it was all Lord Ivran could do to keep the beast from running ahead of the procession.

  He looked to his left and saw Protector Emeric and Protector Stanwyck, riding side-by-side, speaking cheerfully and laughing. He looked to his right and saw Lord Doran and Protector Raibyr, followed by Lord Onas and the rest of his men. All together the army was a magnificent sight to behold. Most of the realm had gathered together to join under one cause.