Emeric followed Lord Ivran only until they passed the main stairway where he stopped and slipped silently into the shadows. He waited patiently for Lord Ivran and his host to pass him by and then hurried up the stairs to where he knew the Queen would be.
He had thought that entering the castle again, so soon after he had escaped, would fill him with dread, but he felt more elated at that moment than he had in months. He could not let Lord Ivran be the one to decide what the Queen’s fate should be. Emeric knew what had to be done.
He climbed the stairs two at a time, anxious to reach the top, when suddenly he stopped and slipped back into the shadows. The sound of approaching footsteps from the next landing reached his ears and he thought it best to hide.
Emeric drew in his breath as the footsteps drew nearer and held it so as not to make a sound as the person approaching passed.
A figure dressed in all black turned the corner and Emeric’s eyes fell upon the blade that was drawn and dripping with fresh blood. Bloodbinder was unmistakable even in the dim light of the night-filled halls.
Rhada descended quickly, as though there was somewhere she had to get to in a hurry. Emeric grasped at the hilt of his sword as she passed, hoping he would not have to draw it, but the High Protector passed without even a suspicious glance. He watched as her dark figure faded into the stairway below and finally turned the corner to descend the next flight.
Emeric released his grip on his sword and let his breath out slowly in relief. Of course, he would have defended his life had she engaged him but he knew that against Rhada, he stood little chance of surviving. It was best to let her pass and descend into the arms of the men who waited for her below. And as much as he wished to deny it, Emeric could not fathom being the one to end the High Protector’s life, not after she had saved his. He was content to let someone else do the deed.
Emeric wasted no more time. He turned and began quickly taking the stairs two at a time.
When he reached the sixth floor, he slowed his walk and drew his sword. He crept carefully through the hall, trying not to make any sound with his feet.
He began stopping in front of each door he reached, listening for anyone who might be hiding inside. He slowly opened each door and peered inside. So far, his ears had heard only silence and his eyes saw only darkness behind the doors. He shuffled down the hall with growing anxiety, opening door after door but there was not a soul to be found.
What if she fled? The thought was almost unbearable. He tried to convince himself that there was nowhere she could have gone and continued on.
At long last, he stopped outside a closed door with a dead man lying on the ground just outside it. The blood that spilled from his open wound had already dried. Emeric could see the man was a guard who had been stationed to protect the King and Queen and he wondered if someone had already gotten to them. He placed his ear upon the cold wood and listened. Inside, he could hear the faint sound of hardened breath and the unmistakable cries of pleasure. He knew the Queen was still inside.
She is making love to her King at a time like this? He wondered how the King could possibly ignore the battle that raged beyond his chamber door to lie with his wife. Then the thought came to him- she is a witch. She has complete power over him and just like I was, he is unable to break free of her.
Emeric gripped the hilt of his blade tighter than ever and took in a deep breath for courage. He placed a shaky hand on the door handle and turned it with great care, trying not to make any sound to alert them of his presence. He pushed the door slowly, hoping it would not creak from old hinges. It did not make a sound that was noticeable over the Queen’s moans.
He could see the bed directly in front of him. There was a man whose clothes had been discarded into a pile on the floor. He was on top of the Queen, thrusting into her with all his strength. All Emeric could see of the Queen were her two pale legs, wrapped around her lover.
Emeric stepped closer and examined the clothes on the floor. He could tell they belonged to no King, but a guard perhaps. He kicked at them with the tip of his foot and pushed them away from the bed. Underneath the pile, he found the guard’s sword and he kicked that away as well.
Both the guard and the Queen gave a start. The guard turned his head and stopped his rhythmic thrusting but did not make a move to get off the Queen. He kneeled on all fours, frozen in his moment of passion and stared at Emeric with bewildered eyes.
Queen Scarlet blinked several times, as though she did not believe her eyes were telling her the truth and she could just blink him away.
“Tis not surprising at all to find you in such a state, my Queen.” Emeric said with a smirk upon his face. “All I have ever seen of you is your naked flesh and your spread legs. But you shall not find me in the state as you are used to.” He took another step closer to the bed and raised his sword so they may both see it. “I am no longer at your mercy.”
Finally, the guard rolled to his side and stood. He made no effort to cover himself but stared at Emeric with harsh eyes.
“How dare you enter the Queen’s quarters without permission!” He pointed an accusing hand at Emeric.
“Friend, I bid you leave at once, for I do not believe you meant any harm and perhaps you are a good and kind man. If this is so, then I do not wish to fight you.”
The guard sneered at Emeric and bent down to pick up his sword, only to find it lying on the other side of the room.
“Kill him!” The Queen shouted from her bed and the guard turned to her with horror struck eyes.
“I haven’t a weapon!” He protested but he advanced all the same.
Emeric could not have known what went through the guard’s head in his final moment. All he knew was that the guard charged him with bare flesh and empty hands and it took only one swing of his blade to take the man down.
Blood spurted from the large wound in his chest as Emeric pulled his sword free. He looked to the poor stranger only for a moment before turning to the Queen.
She sat at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard. Her hands gripped at the sheets underneath her and her breasts rose and fell with each heavy breath she took. She cocked her head to the side and smiled warmly at Emeric, as though they were long-time friends.
“My hero.” She said with admiration. Emeric furrowed his brow at her and shook his head.
“Whatever do you mean?” He asked with genuine curiosity.
She continued to smile as she slid her legs to the side and pulled herself off the bed. She stood in full view and walked closer to Emeric. She stopped just before coming within range of his blade and looked him up and down.
“King Firion left me to go down and join the fighting. As soon as he was gone, this man killed his companion and came in here. He pushed me to the bed and ripped my clothes off! I screamed and fought but no one could hear me over the battle. No one could come to my rescue!” Her smile faded and a tear formed in the corner of her eye.
Emeric laughed at the sight of her- the Queen standing there before him naked as the day she was born, spouting lies and faking tears, thinking she could get him to feel pity for her.
“If only that were true.” He replied after stifling his laughter. “I would say perhaps the score had been settled.”
The Queen narrowed her eyes at Emeric and looked to him with a hatred he had never seen in her before.
“You would wish that upon me?” She asked. He wondered how she could possibly think that she did not deserve such a punishment.
“Then you would know what it feels like to be helpless and abused- violated.” He said this last word with a sneer and raised his sword once again. The Queen’s eyes fell upon the blade and she raised her hands in defense and began to slowly back away.
“I have come here to make you pay for what you did to me!” He said with anger. He lowered his eyes to her chest and focused on the exact point on which he would puncture her with his blade. He began walking towards her as she backed away. He knew that she h
ad nowhere to go- he stood between her and the only way out.
Queen Scarlet stepped outside onto the balcony and stopped, waiting for Emeric to get closer. She seemed to come to the realization that she had nowhere to go and she put her hands down in defeat. Emeric stopped and rested the tip of his blade between her breasts. He did not push it through her flesh but looked back up into her eyes and asked- “have you anything you’d like to say?”
Suddenly, Queen Scarlet’s eyes changed. They had been dark and foreboding but to Emeric’s disbelief, they began to brighten and glow as though the sun was burning inside them.
“Yes.” She replied in a wicked hiss and she raised her hands once again. “Die!” She shouted in a voice that was not her own. It was a voice that came from the shadow world- a voice that was deep and made his heart tremble.
Emeric barely reacted in time to avoid the flames as they spit forth in his direction. He turned and jumped back into the chamber and rolled to the foot of the bed. The flames shot past him, rubbing against the side of his face with their heat as they went. They filled the room all the way to the chamber door and ignited anything in their path.
The bedside table was aflame, the wine cabinet and the camber door itself began to burn. Emeric looked up to watch in horror as his only escape was consumed in the fire. Then a horrible realization came over him- he could only see with one eye.
He reached up with a gloved hand and touched the side of his face that had felt the heat, and when he pulled his hand away, the skin melted and stuck to his leather glove, tearing away from the bone.
Emeric knew he was screaming but could not hear himself over the roaring of the flames. He placed his gloved hand over the burned flesh once more and this time, he felt the searing pain. He screamed again and writhed in agony, knowing that half his face was gone. It wasn’t until he heard the witch’s laughter ring through his ears that he opened his one good eye and watched her enter the room.
She was still naked but against the flames, he could see no part of her body. She moved through them as though they did not touch her. The heat had no effect on the Queen’s flesh.
“So you are a witch!” He managed to spout through clenched teeth, knowing that he had been right all along.
“A witch?” She asked with spitefulness. “How dare you think of me as such a weakling? Have you not witnessed my powers? I am so much more than a mortal witch!” At the word witch, her voice changed again and her eyes began to glow as they had before. Emeric knew she meant to burn him until no part of his flesh remained and some part of him wanted to just lie there and let her do it. He did not think he could suffer through the rest of his life with half a face, but something else told him to move. Whether it was purely a survival instinct that made him roll away or something else entirely, he did not know, but roll he did and just in time. The flames shot forth from her open palms and consumed the bed that he had been leaning on.
Emeric stopped and lay upon the floor, helpless to move as the pain took hold of him. It crippled him and made him feel weak. He knew that he still held onto his sword but wondered if he could even lift it now.
She has won. There was no chance for me to escape. He scolded himself for rolling away from the flames when they were the only thing that could save him from this pain now.
The Queen’s evil cackle filled the room and she walked over to where Emeric lay sprawled out on the floor. He was lying next to the guard he had killed and knew that he was soon to join him as a corpse- another of the Queen’s victims.
Queen Scarlet’s eyes began to glow once more as she howled at him in rage. “You would have been better off as my slave! You should have remained where you belonged. Now you will feel my wrath!” She raised her hands once again and Emeric closed his one good eye, waiting for the fire to consume him.
Suddenly, the Queen was screaming. Emeric opened his eye to find her running away from him with her arms flailing about. She was smacking at something that flew around her face- a black-winged bird. Emeric watched in amazement as the bird flapped and pecked at her face. She swung and hit it but not hard enough to injure it. The bird crowed loudly and swooped down upon her once again, pecking and scratching with its talons. It pulled its beak away and Emeric saw it drop what were once her eyes onto the floor in a pile of mush. She screamed and staggered onto the balcony and stood, holding her hands to her bleeding face. She shook all over and cried out in anger- “Where are you, witch? I will kill you!” She raised her hands once again and shot flames in the direction she faced. The crow flew high into the sky, easily avoiding her fire.
Emeric knew his time had come. He dropped his sword to the ground, knowing that he no longer had the strength to wield it, and got to his unsteady feet slowly. He took one step, then another, trying carefully not to lose his balance. When he reached the balcony, he gathered all his strength and rushed towards the Queen, letting out a triumphant bellow as he ran. His shoulder plowed into hers and he wrapped his arms around her and shoved as hard as he could. The Queen screamed in surprise but could do nothing to pull herself away. He pushed her to the edge of the balcony, unwrapped his arms from her, and gave her a hard shove over the edge.
She screamed as she fell. Emeric leaned over the edge and watched as the flailing figure grew smaller and her cry became quieter. Her arms flapped helplessly at her sides as she plummeted to the ground below. When she hit, the sound could not be heard from where Emeric stood but he could see blood spurt out of her like a bug that had been squished underneath a boot.
He stood leaning over the edge for a moment and watched the Queen’s lifeless body, half expecting her to rise again. When she did not move for several moments, Emeric was satisfied that she was dead. He pushed himself away from the edge and slumped down, leaning against the balustrade and breathing heavily.
He could scarcely believe what had just happened. He reached up and grasped at his scorched face as he looked at the ruins of the King’s chamber. The fires had already died down, as though they had died with their maker, and what remained was nothing but ash and dust. Emeric looked above him towards the sky where he had last seen the crow and to his dismay, the bird had vanished, leaving him alone in the ruins of his enemy’s lair.
Chapter 27
King Firion strolled down the hallway in a fiery rage. Each step he took was planted firmly into the ground as though he was trying to break the stone beneath him. His heart beat rapidly with the hatred of the enemies that had stormed into his castle. His right hand was placed upon the hilt of his sword and he was ready to unsheathe it at any moment.
He turned a corner and headed down the stairway that would lead him to the back entrance of the main hall. He knew that Lord Ivran would choose to go there if he was inside the castle already. King Firion did not care if he faced Lord Ivran alone or if he would face one hundred men- he was determined to strike down as many of the traitors as he possibly could.
And where is the High Protector when I need her? He wondered with scorn. She is probably already dead. He was disappointed at the thought. He had planned to humiliate her in her final moments, just as she had humiliated him.
And if she is dead, that means Bloodbinder is in the hands of a traitor. He stiffened at the thought and told himself that once he had dealt with Lord Ivran, he would find the one who held Bloodbinder and deal with them as well, whether it be a traitor or the High Protector herself.
He raced down the stairs as quickly as his feet would carry him and when he rounded the next corner, he stopped suddenly and listened to the voices that echoed through the corridors.
“Search the castle! Bring all that you find to me.” King Firion could not remember what Lord Ivran’s voice sounded like but he was certain that he heard the man speak just then. He dashed forward as though Lord Ivran would disappear with the echo of his voice.
I am coming for you now, traitor! He almost laughed at Lord Ivran’s stupidity. How could the man think he can storm into my home without having to face me?
King Firion’s sword hand was steady and at the ready. He pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the great hall and stepped inside without hesitation. He found the room empty and dark. No fires had been lit that night and not a soul was anywhere to be found. He could see nothing in the darkness but he knew where his throne was regardless. He could find it with his eyes closed which is exactly what it felt like. He held his arms out before him and walked until he felt his fingers graze the back of the throne. He walked around it and found the soft cushion he always sat in. There, he took his seat and laid his sword across his lap, waiting for his enemy to arrive.
Screams filled the halls outside and echoed into the great hall. He knew the people of his court were being dragged from their quarters. He listened to their screams grow louder as Lord Ivran’s men made their way down the hall. He listened with earnest as the sound of soldiers’ feet marching towards him overcame the sounds of screams. He imagined that one of them was Lord Ivran himself and it would not be long before they were face-to-face.
King Firion sat up taller in his throne as the doors were thrown open and a small amount of light spilled in from the corridor.
There was Lord Ivran, standing as a giant silhouette against the darkness. King Firion strained his eyes to get a better look at the man but knew he would not be able to see anything until the candles and hearths were lit.
He heard Lord Ivran bark orders to the men who followed him to light the fires and they rushed to the hearths to bring light into the great hall. King Firion knew that once the fires were blazing, the darkness would vanish and he would be revealed to his enemies. Let the coward see me sitting where I belong- in my throne. He will kneel before me or I will have his head. He tightened his grip on his sword and waited for the darkness to abate.
Rise of Darkness (The Watchers Book 2) Page 27
