Aiden could see the fabric of his robe stir, then vibrate softly as the man’s fingers caressed what at first Aiden thought was his forearm, but now he knew to be some sort of creature that covered it. It somewhat explained what he’d seen so long ago when they had spied on Duke Feldar and this same Mourning Lord. The robe reaching about and inspecting the world around it, independent of its master’s own movements.
But now, here he was in the flesh, and whatever the thing was, it had touched his own skin and paralyzed him somehow. Aiden could feel a scream welling up but was powerless to voice it.
The menacing figure was about to continue speaking but instead tilted his head and looked back over his shoulder. Aiden had been watching a man detach himself from the darkness, easing out from behind the curtains hung around the wall and creep forward with a knife. He was dressed in the livery of Romald and was staring intently at the Mourning Lord seated next to Aiden.
Upon being sighted, the man leapt silently with his dagger lunging forward but before he had crossed more than two steps, the red-silk creature that clothed the monstrous figure had reacted. It sent thick, red tendrils of itself in lightning quick strikes toward the assassin. As they struck, they seemed to flow and melt around the man’s arms and head, pulling him roughly forward and onto the floor where more of the creature began to flow over the back of the seat and onto the downed, struggling figure. It only lasted for a moment before whatever had frozen Aiden earlier took effect, then it was just a matter of becoming a red, rippling lump just barely within sight of the corner of Aiden’s eye.
It had all happened so quickly, and since the man hadn’t screamed, silently. The Mourning Lord himself seemed unimpressed, simply turning his head back to the play.
“Forgive the interruption, young Aiden. Not my design, I assure you. However, it will serve a purpose as my dear was becoming rather peckish.” The Lord's hand went back to caressing the creature, even as Aiden began to hear faint burbling and popping sounds from behind their seats. His silent scream became louder in his head as he realized that robe was, in fact, digesting its prey, not a meter from where they sat.
“Now, where was I?” the Mourning Lord asked, tilting his head back as if trying to remember what he’d been talking about. “Ah yes, the purpose of my visit. I understand there may be beings in Terek who have told you about me. My spies have provided enough information to tell me it has happened. You know what I am and have been told I am insane, no doubt.”
The thing turned to face him, the two hollow places in the mask seeming to stare at him intently. “And they would be right. The Cataclysm was a terrible thing, whatever may have caused it, but it was not only the terror and destruction that drive me to protect this world. No. It was watching the millions die afterward. People who at one point had been shopkeepers or clerks, crawling through the debris of civilization and preying on one another like animals. To know it was myself and my brethren that, at the command of some unknown force, severed any hope they may have had. For hundreds of years after that all-too-brief time, I watched the people I had sworn to protect and look out for descending into cannibalism and barbarism. A people who had traveled to the stars now laid low, and all due to our arrogance at handling the stuff of the gods.”
The Mourning Lord paused and then went silent, almost shaking as it relived what had happened. The tremors of its emotions joining with the ripples of its pet still feeding on the corpse of the guard. Amazingly, the lump had begun to grow smaller already and Aiden wondered in sick fascination how long he would last if it decided it needed dessert. Finally, the Lord gained control of itself, seeming to slump inwards in despair.
“But now, we are being tested again,” the Mourning Lord said, its deep thrumming voice oozing into the darkness around him. “I can feel it. Feel that unseen hand reaching out and playing with us again. You are that test, Aiden. Your…abilities. I watch them bloom on our scanners. Watched how each time you dip your finger into the eddies of glimmer steel, it sends shockwaves over this world. Tempting us. Waiting to send me and my brothers and sisters once again to that dark place to see if we will approach too close to the sun that is glimmer steel. An old story, Icarus, from a time long before this world ever saw the face of men. We were Icarus and we were sorely burned.”
The dark figure reached out, his hand with that trembling creature covering it, shivering under the intricate metal claws as he drew one finger across Aiden's cheek. The cold metal grinding across his skin eased on its way by his terror-filled sweat.
“Can you not see? You have forced my hand. Forced me to once again interfere in this place of men. I do not wish to, dear Aiden. I do not wish to continue with the plans I have already set in motion. But you,“ the figure paused, letting his thumb glide across Aiden's lips and then gripping his chin, “you can stop it all. You can save your friends and people from their fate. Just one, simple decision. Save me from sinking further into becoming the monster that has terrified children in their sleep.”
The creature pulled a small, crystal bottle from within its robes. To Aiden, it seemed to actually melt up through the red body, which Aiden now understood to be the flesh of the creature that clothed the Mourning Lord.
“This will save us.” The lord hissed softly, gently placing the vial in Aiden's unmoving lap. “Take it before two days have passed, and I will turn back the black tide that approaches. If not? Then all you hold dear, everything that is precious to you will be wiped from the face of this world. I will make an example of Riften and all who inhabit it. And afterward? Terek shall burn as well.”
The images of his friends blurred through his head and Aiden could feel tears streaming down his face. All of them. Jessop, Chari, the Duke, and Duchess. All of them were in danger because of him. Would he do what he could to save them? Would he?
He didn’t know, but the Mourning Lord slumped back, watching the play being enacted far down on the stage. Aiden could do nothing but watch, letting his eyes bore into the creature as it slowly faded away.
After many long minutes, he finally felt the first twitch as his muscles began to unlock. Many minutes later, he groaned and twisted up in his seat as he wrestled with cramps, slowly trying to stretch out his body and recover from the creature’s poison. His eyes came to rest on the vial still in his lap, glittering in the faint light.
He finally picked it up, his hands shaking. He knew it was his death. He hoped it would be painless, whatever it was. Shaking his head ruefully, he began to shiver. He had to do it if it would save his friends and new family. Young Baron Crean playing with Jessop as Dame Tenadine watched from under a gazebo. Chari and Ashrak leaning on the rails of the ship, their hips just barely touching. Duke Valeran and Duchess Ahnarad sitting at the breakfast table while he told fantastic stories. Even Markam standing stoically behind Gavin with that look of disapproval on his face. It all crashed into Aiden.
It was the trial that finally did it for him. The time before Dame Tenadine had come through the doors and proclaimed him adopted and a lord, when he knew he was going to die. He had been ready then. At least now, it was his choice.
Slowly, he unstoppered the top of the vial. It was an odd, silver colored liquid inside that reminded him of quicksilver but not quite as thick. He was just about to raise it to his lips when he heard a voice.
“Aiden! Aiden, come quickly,” Chari said, the muffled sound coming from his belt pouch. Even with the sound dampened, she sounded desperate and afraid. “Ashrak is in trouble! His father is trying to take him away!”
Blinking, Aiden quickly put the stopper back into the top of the vial and opened his belt pouch. His fingers were still clumsy from the paralytic, but he managed to store the bottle and pull out the communicator. Looking at it, the light was on the right button for Chari.
“Chari? Where are you?” Aiden said, his speech somewhat slurred.
“Back at the ceremony room. Please come quickly, Aiden! I don’t know what I will do if they take him!”
&
nbsp; Aiden breathed for a moment but nodded. He could wait. He had two days to make his decision. “I’ll be right there. I’m not sure what I can do, but I’m coming.”
He stood and walked out from the isolated balcony, carefully avoiding looking behind and at the faint, reddish smudges. He thought he heard a Chivnel already moving back there, cleaning up whatever was left.
His leg muscles were still shaky as well but he managed to find a servant and true to Romald’s words, the short Arakuul led him down and back to the ceremony room. When he got there, he could see a small part of the huge edifice swarming with armed men and yelling nobles being separated by an even bigger line of Riften soldiers.
Things did not look good as Aiden made his way through the crowds to Duke Valeran’s side.
Chapter 23
Aiden had a picture of Duke Brun in his head from the stories Ashrak had told them all. For some reason, he thought the man would more closely resemble the slovenly, bloated form of Duke Feldar, but he should have known better.
Ashrak’s father turned out to be a bear of a man. Tall, with a great red beard and fierce eyes that flashed in anger as he stood unmoving amidst the sea of guards and courtiers. On the other side of the line of Riften soldiers, Duke Valeran stood with his fists clenched and glared with ice cold eyes.
Aiden usually thought of Duke Valeran as someone who was boisterous and larger than life. He’d seen men who acted the same, and in most of those cases those same men could easily lose their temper, but that was what set the Duke apart. Aiden had watched the Duke when Count Viridian had come to have Aiden arrested. Instead of turning into pits of fire, Valeran’s ice blue eyes had frozen hard as granite and he’d been intensely calm in the face of the terrible scene. Such was the case now as he stared across the line of men.
“I demand my son back!” Duke Brun said again, his gravelly voice thundering over the other voices around him.
“You cannot have him back, Zefkran,” Valeran said with steely calm. “Your boy was promised to the Silvencor family after you sank seven of their ships. I know you don’t remember ordering it because you were going through one of your episodes, but that’s what happened. He was also to reside in my lands as promises against your good behavior and for me to stop sinking your ships. Unless it is okay for me to start sinking your lumbering, ineffectual fleet? I could start with the ones in the harbor. Even three-to-one, I could easily destroy those barges.”
The first hint of insanity revealed itself in Duke Brun’s eyes as they started to twitch. He took a step forward, pressing against the backs of his own men and gripped his sword. “You dare!” the big man roared, “You dare threaten me!? I will enjoy pulling your guts out! I will use your skull for a goblet!”
For his part, Valeran didn’t even flinch except to sneer disdainfully at the frothing man. It was clear he was not afraid, though Aiden hoped he was still wearing his armored shirt. Instead of responding, Duke Valeran just listened to the increasingly incoherent threats and watched the giant man grow increasingly out of control. Unbelievably, Duke Brun was trying to push through his own men and didn’t even seem to see the line of Riften soldiers in front of him. Aiden wondered if he’d even feel it if he impaled himself on their swords.
Suddenly two other, younger men were there. They both had the red hair of their father with one of similar height, and the other smaller and wirier. Both had the same cruel look to their faces, though they lacked the feverish spark of insanity. The smaller one began to whisper quickly into Duke Brun’s ears while the other stepped between, looking angrily across the line at Ashrak, rather than Duke Valeran.
“Ashrak, you little worm, get over here now. Do not disgrace us further.” He sneered. He had a dark scar across his cheek, running from just under his eye to his lip, and it accented the sneer nicely, Aiden thought. “I have a bed waiting at home for you. Don’t worry, it will keep you nice and warm.”
“You won’t have him!” Chari screamed angrily, stepping forward slightly. “I’ll kill you first!”
Duke Valeran turned, holding his hand to silence Chari, but it had been enough. The cold eyes of the man turned to her and if anything, his sneer deepened. “You’ll what?” he drawled slowly, grinning and gesturing toward Ashrak. “Kill me? Rekmar Brun? For this useless waste? Who are you, anyway? Some servant he’s hired?”
Ashrak and Chari both growled in tandem, their eyes flashing as they stepped forward. Stelios, Gavin, and Markam blocked them from going further, but it just served to escalate the situation as the red haired lord laughed.
“Oh ho? Is this that Silvencor brat you were promised to, Ashrak? She is a pretty one, I will give you that.” Rekmar paused, his smile becoming something different as his eyes roamed over Chari. “I will tell you what, Ash-head. She can come with you. I am sure we can find a use for her.”
Suddenly, another voice intruded. Aiden had no clue how Duchess Emraldi’s quiet voice intruded over the tumult, but it did and everyone looked over and up at the statuesque, raven-haired woman.
“Enough.”
Duchess Emraldi stepped forward to the edge of the central terrace and towered above the combatants. She had only the barest hint of a frown on her lips as her cold, unblinking eyes took in everyone with a slight hint of disapproval.
“The Brun are here to be witnesses only since they are still suspended from this council, not to cause schoolyard brawls. Though, unfortunately, it was not entirely unexpected as you can see.” She said, gesturing toward her guards. She turned and descended the stairs down to the main floor, then flowed forward as her soldiers parted. Instead of walking up to either of the Dukes, she strode regally up to Lord Rekmar, tilting her head as she considered him like a piece of meat.
“And you, who chooses to speak for Brun and insult my actual guests,” she said consideringly and quietly, “who…are you?” Aiden noticed many of those who had been shouting earlier had quieted, straining to hear what she said. It was an interesting tactic and even Glowby floated forward slightly.
Rakmar tried to hold his sneer, but even his arrogance faded slightly under the clinical gaze. “I..I am Lord Rekmar Brun. First son and Heir to Duke Brun.”
“Ah, the Heir? I was of the understanding you had an open throne. One which is taken rather than inherited. Am I incorrect?” she looked around, scanning the crowd. “My sources tell me there are at least four of his children still alive.”
Rekmar blinked but rallied, shaking his head. “Yes, four, but two have abdicated to me.” He paused, trying to look over the woman’s shoulder at Ashrak, but she wouldn’t let him, stepping into his gaze and staring calmly at him.
“Then there are two heir’s here. It would only take a death to secure either of your places.” She trailed off, turning slightly but not fully away from the man. For his part, Rekmar froze. He could hear the threat clearly in her voice and suddenly looked around as if realizing he wasn’t in his home duchy. Aiden thought it was the most intelligence any of them had exhibited so far.
“Your house cannot make decisions here,” the Duchess continued, pacing gently to the right and looking at Rekmar out of the corner of her eyes. “And as far as going back on a trade deal? You are in Riften, dear Rekmar. I’m afraid our laws clearly would not find in your favor if you decided to go back on an agreement.” Rekmar looked like he was about to say something, but the Duchess held her hand up, quieting him. “However, that does not mean you cannot compete for something. Say, as a challenge for a prize.” She stopped, smiling slightly and glanced at the young lord for a long moment.
Aiden watched as the man’s eyes widened, comprehension slipping across his cruel features and he grinned almost boyishly. “Yesss! Yes, there is something if the coward is even willing to agree.” He stepped around the tall Duchess, this time unimpeded and glared at Ashrak. “I challenge you, you sniveling coward, to a sword dance. First one to drop a sword or shed blood will lose. If I win, you come with us. If you win, we give up our claim on you.”
“What’s going on?” Chari said, turning to Ashrak as he began to step forward. “What are you doing? What is a sword dance?”
Ashrak didn’t answer, but instead he gritted his teeth and stared into his brother's eyes. “Agreed, Brother. For better or worse, may this be the last time I ever have to call you such again.”
The Duchess led them both back up onto the large round platform in the middle of the room. It was easily ten meters in diameter and each man chose a side as they drew their swords.
“We have Brunish musicians playing here.” Duchess Emraldi said, sending a servant off into the Welcome House at a run. “They will be here shortly.”
The Glimmer Steel Saga, Boxed Set, Books 1 - 4 Page 57
