Shadow of the Knight (The Orb Book 3)

by Matt Heppe

  They broke their fast in the same dining hall, but the food was of much higher quality than the night before. There were omelets stuffed with mushrooms and fresh greens, fried cakes with honey, and sweetberry tarts. Cam stuffed himself while Ayja picked at the delicious food. Neither Telea nor Orlos ate much either.

  Finally, Cam pushed himself back from the table. “I haven’t eaten like that in a very long time.”

  “I’m too nervous, I suppose,” Ayja said. “I keep feeling like I’m not supposed to be here.”

  “Here is where you are.”

  “You are a fountain of wisdom, Cam. What if things don’t go well? What if King Handrin demands Forsvar and the Orb of Creation?”

  “Do you know what he’s thinking? What if you show up and demand he get on his knees and bow before you, Ayja, Queen of Salador?”

  There was a knock at the door and Sir Danalon entered the room. “Everything is ready, Your Highness,” he said to Ayja.

  “Everything?” she asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

  “We’ve made some preparations,” Cam said with a smile. “We’re not just going to walk up to the king and say, hello.”

  They exited the tower into the square. Soldiers held back a crowd of citizens. It took a moment for Ayja to realize they were there waiting for her. Almost as soon as she exited the tower there were shouts of “Ayja” and “the Orb!” Others called out “Forsvar” as Orlos appeared.

  “Show them the Orb,” Cam said from behind her.

  Ayja raised the Orb of Creation above her head. It glowed brighter now than it had the evening before, some of its energy having been restored. She twisted the strands of aether, and for just a moment, the Orb flared with brilliant light in the early dawn light.

  The crowd cheered.

  Horses were brought up, and Ayja and the others mounted. Eight men-at-arms stood ready nearby with Sir Danalon at their lead.

  “What will you do, Your Majesty?” someone shouted from the crowd. “Will you be our queen?”

  Ayja spotted the woman in the crowd. Others stared at Ayja, expectantly awaiting her response. “Not your queen,” Ayja said. “I take the Orb to King Handrin. He is your rightful king.”

  “He is his mother’s creature, Your Highness. He didn’t save us.”

  “It isn’t true,” Orlos said from beside Ayja, speaking loud enough so that those in the crowd could hear. “I know your King. He’s a good man. He and I took Forsvar from his mother. He defeated the eternals at the bridge tower. He will be a great king.”

  The crowd parted as two score foot soldiers approached. They bore mixed arms of spears and poleaxes, and none had matching armor. There’s been some effort made to give each man a red cloak, the mounted men-at-arms as well, but no two were the same. Some wore tabards of guild companies, while others still wore Ilana’s blue, but reversed so that the three gold crowns were hidden from view.

  “Escort, present arms!” Cam roared, startling Ayja.

  The men thrust their weapons high into the air and held them rigidly at attention. “Time to meet the King,” Cam said to Ayja. He gave Danalon a signal, and he and four men-at-arms rode past the foot soldiers.

  “Our turn,” Cam said. “Follow Sir Danalon’s lead, Ayja. Orlos ride to Ayja’s right. Telea, you’ll ride with me.”

  Ayja, not the most comfortable on a horse, and even less so under the eyes of a thousand or more people, urged her horse forward. To her great relief, it obeyed.

  She rode past the reviewing soldiers and followed Danalon as his men parted the crowd. She held the Orb in front of her so that everyone could see it. People crowded in but seemed unwilling to press too closely into the light of the Orb.

  Ayja glanced over her shoulder. Telea and Cam were there and then the remaining men-at-arms behind them. And then, to her surprise, she saw men lifting two litters from the ground.

  Morin and Cragor. We’re taking them to King Handrin.

  Behind the litters marched the forty soldiers and behind them the crowd followed. The little column crossed the main square and headed for the main street through the city. The bodies of the dead had been cleared, although the blood remained.

  Curious citizens lined the edges of the street and leaned out upper story windows. Many smiled or even cheered. A few wore worried expressions, however. Some pointed at the party before pulling back from their windows.

  “Why are we bringing Morin and Cragor’s bodies?” Ayja asked Cam.

  “I want King Handrin to recognize what you’ve done for him,” Cam said from behind her. “I want him to know that we are on his side. He’ll ask you to renounce any claim to the throne, you realize.”

  Ayja waved to a smiling girl on a balcony high above. It would be nice, she thought, the life of a princess. But this wasn’t a home to her. How could she get used to the crowded homes and the constant press of people? No, she’d go with Telea, and then to Landomere. To her family.

  “You’ll come to Landomere with me, won’t you Cam?” she asked. “When everything is done?”

  “Of course,” he said. “What else would I do?”

  “You could be Champion of Salador again?”

  He laughed. “I don’t think so. That’s for younger men.”

  The road turned, and Ayja spied a tall tower in front of them. Soon a river came into view, and she saw that the tower protected the near side of a great bridge. The narrow street blocked her view of much more.

  The crowds were thinner here, as if the column had outridden news of their passage. However, with each passing moment, the crowds behind them grew. Ayja couldn’t help but be relieved at the festive mood in the air. She’d had enough of violence.

  They entered an open square leading to the bridge tower. The view was much broader here, and Ayja could see the length of the Treteren River as it passed through Sal-Oras. She saw the famous three bridges and their towers spanning the river. The northern most was in front of them. Off to her right she saw the edge of the city walls and the massive river towers guarding the entrance to the city. A heavy chain hung across the river, blocking boat traffic from the north.

  Battle scars marred the surface of the bridge tower in front of her. The gates themselves were broken and the portcullis raised. Bodies of the dead lay in rows nearby—unluk, varcolac, and Saladoran.

  Four mounted men-at-arms blocked the entrance to the tower tunnel. They sat tall and proud in their saddles, but all had bandaged wounds and their armor was battle scarred.

  Sir Danalon and his men rode up to them and exchanged salutes. “Hold here, Ayja,” Cam said from behind her. “Let Sir Danalon make certain the way is clear.

  Danalon spoke with the four men-at-arms, and then, after another salute, the guards turned their horses and rode through the gate tunnel. At his command, four of Danalon’s men dismounted and entered the tower itself.

  “What’s happening?” Ayja asked.

  “You’ll meet King Handrin at the middle of the bridge,” Cam said. “We’re making certain the near tower is clear.”

  “You’re afraid he’ll close it behind us?”

  “He wouldn’t do that,” Orlos said.

  “It is best to be prepared,” Cam said. “I’ll feel better when I see the King on the bridge.”

  One of Danalon’s men appeared at the top of the tower and waved down to them. “All clear,” he called.

  “Here we go,” Cam said.

  As they rode forward their escort took up positions at the tower entrance holding back the citizens who seemed to want to follow her onto the bridge.

  Ayja’s heart quickened as she entered the tower tunnel. She let her vision go into the aether and prepared herself to call upon her elementar power. The Orb was warm in her hand. It wasn’t full, not close to it, but still it held a potent store of ethereal energies. The Orb’s candle brightness was now a golden torch lighting the dark tunnel ahead of them.

  Beside her, Orlos was grim-faced. He held Forsvar ready, a delicate silver fire
lit its rim. He’s nervous as well. But the king wouldn’t dare attack them, would he? The Orb of Creation and Forsvar at once?

  Telea and Cam still rode behind them, as did four men-at-arms and the pallbearers. Everyone else had remained behind at the tower.

  They exited the tunnel onto the bridge. The Orb’s light diminished under the sullen grey skies above. A strong breeze promised to bring rain. Across the bridge, an arrowflight away, Ayja spotted movement at the base of the far tower. Riders appeared.

  “We’ll dismount a quarter of the way across,” Cam said. “We’ll meet on foot.”

  Ayja and the others continued forward. There were men atop the far tower. Archers? Did they have siege weapons trained on the bridge? What could she stop if she had to?

  “What does Forsvar say?” she asked Orlos.

  “Forsvar doesn’t say anything, but I don’t sense…I don’t know…not danger. Fear. They are still far away, though.”

  “Fear is dangerous,” Cam said. “Let’s dismount here.”

  The escorting men-at-arms took their horses, and then Ayja and the others continued forward. It was only then that the party of riders at the opposite gate advanced.

  At the midpoint of the span, Cam ordered the bodies of Cragor and Morin to be placed in front of them but close to the bridge railing to their left. The pallbearers retreated to where the men-at-arms held their horses.

  Four men approached from the opposite tower, all armed as knights. One held a red banner that fluttered in the breeze—Forsvar’s crossed lightning bolts clear upon it. The first two men were bareheaded, but only one bore a shield. A black shield, Ayja noted.

  The approaching men dismounted and only four continued forward on foot. The two bare-headed men, the banner bearer, and another knight with a poleaxe.

  “That’s King Handrin,” Orlos said to Ayja. “And the man with the black shield is Escalan.”

  “Rayne,” Telea corrected. “Sir Rayne.”

  “Sir Rayne?” Cam asked.

  “It is,” Telea said. “He was Handrin’s valet, but he was just made a knight.”

  Cam laughed under his breath. “Good lad,” he said.

  The King’s party approached until they were ten strides away. Handrin was tall but seemed stooped under some great weight. His face was pale and dark bags hung under his eyes. Rayne was short, shorter even than Ayja, but he carried himself with an ease that belied great prowess. Like Cam.

  Handrin paused and looked at the bodies of Morin and Cragor before his eyes returned to Ayja and her companions. Looking Ayja in the eye, he said with a wry grin, “Am I victorious, cousin, or am I defeated?”

  With his words, a wave of relief washed over her. She smiled. “You are victorious, Your Majesty.”

  He nodded and didn’t say anything for a moment. He took a deep breath and stood taller. Almost imperceptibly, some of the tension went out of the King’s companions. The man with the poleaxe relaxed his grip and Rayne’s shield dropped just a finger width.

  “You did well, Orlos,” Handrin said. “You as well, Telea.”

  “I believe it’s Champion Orlos now,” Orlos said with a grin.

  “Hmmm…I don’t know that it was actually in my power to declare you Champion of Landomere.”

  “I sort of like it,” Orlos said.

  “With that shield, I suppose you could be Champion of… anywhere you wished to be.”

  “Ah…” Orlos’s face flushed. “I suppose I don’t get to keep it.”

  Handrin’s eyes went to Ayja. “No. I don’t think so.” He opened his mouth to speak but then stopped.

  He wants to ask for Forsvar. He wants the Orb, but he’s afraid to ask. Afraid I’ll say no.

  “You killed Cragor and took the Orb from him,” Handrin finally said, looking over at the golden-armored varcolac.

  “Ayja killed him,” Cam said.

  “You are an elementar?” Handrin asked her.

  She paused a moment. There would be no hiding it. Hundreds had seen her wielding her powers the day before. Did she even need to hide it anymore? The queen was gone, and from what Orlos and Telea had said, Handrin was an enemy of the inquisitors. “I am,” she said. “It’s hard to say it after keeping it hidden all these years.”

  “Not anymore,” Handrin said. “You’ve seen the change? Magic is different now. There’s much to learn.”

  “It happened when I unlocked the Orb of Creation,” Ayja said. “The Orb was never meant to be used the way Akinos and Cragor used it.”

  “It was touched by a true elementar,” Handrin said. “A true descendant of Handrin the Great of old. You’ve released magic into the wide world.”

  His eyes went to Morin’s black form. “Who is this?”

  “Your uncle, Morin,” Cam said.

  Handrin gave him a sharp look. “What? That is Prince Morin? How? What happened to him?”

  “After I killed Cragor, Morin and I fought for the Orb,” Ayja said. “Cam killed him.”

  “Only after Ayja greatly weakened him,” Cam said.

  “Cam?” Handrin said. “You, Sir Nidon?”

  Cam nodded.

  “He was your father,” Handrin said, nodding towards Morin’s corpse. He shook his head and looked away. “A foolish thing for me to say…of course Sir Nidon told you.”

  “I’ve known who my parents were, and what I was, for a long time,” Ayja said. “Morin was no father to me. Cam is the only father I’ve ever known.”

  Handrin stepped closer to Morin. “Why does he look this way? I’ve seen eternals in death, and they don’t look like this.”

  “He severed himself from the Orb and became a lych,” Cam said. “Other eternals did this as well. It should have killed them, but they created a legion of the living dead to serve and feed them. All of the lyches looked as he does.”

  “These lyches were with him?”

  “Three died in the battle with Cragor, I think,” Ayja said. “There are more of them out there.”

  “And the eternals with Cragor? What of them?”

  “I severed all of the eternals from the Orb. I assume they perished.”

  Handrin looked from Ayja to Cam. “And how did you come to be here to fight Cragor and Prince Morin?”

  “Morin discovered Cam and me where we were hiding in the East Teren,” Ayja said. “He brought us here as allies to fight Cragor, but we were just biding our time.”

  Handrin’s eyes met Ayja’s. “What did he offer to gain your alliance?”

  “You know what he offered, Your Majesty,” Cam said.

  “It wasn’t much of an offer,” Ayja said. “It was accept or die.”

  Handrin nodded. “The East Teren? That’s where you were?” Handrin said. “You kept her hidden away all these years, Sir Nidon.”

  “That I did,” Cam said. “I couldn’t let your mother at her.”

  “The last I saw you, you were threatening to kill me,” Handrin said.

  “The last I saw you, your mother was massacring my soldiers,” Cam said. “Where is Ilana, by the way?”

  Handrin drew in a sharp breath at Cam’s words. “She has… I’m sad to say…she has fled.”

  “Fled?”

  “She’s heading for her father’s holdings in the West Teren. She’ll be returned,” he quickly added.

  “She has a lot to answer to,” Cam said. “She murdered Ayja’s mother.”

  “She was afraid—”

  “That’s not an excuse! She—” Cam started, his voice rising.

  “Stop it, Cam!” Ayja said. “That’s not why we’re here.”

  For a moment he looked to argue but held his tongue.

  “I will undo all the harm that I can,” Handrin said. “I know some things cannot be undone.” He faced Ayja. “Cousin, I cannot apologize enough for the harm that’s been done to you and to your family. It cannot make up for your loss, but if there is anything I can do for you, name it.”

  “Keep the Orb, Ayja!” Telea said, stepping forward. “K
eep Forsvar! They must go to Belen.”

  “You ask too much, Telea,” Handrin said, shaking his head. “I know your need is great, but—”

  “No! There is no, but. You know the threat. You know my mission. You said you’d help. The Orb and Forsvar must go to Belen. You think the war is won because Cragor is dead? The Dromost Gate is poised to unleash all the hosts of Dromost upon us.”

  “Not yet, Telea. My kingdom is on the precipice of a great cliff. The East Teren is overrun with Cragor’s remaining forces, and now there is the threat of these lyches and their followers. Without Forsvar and the Orb in my hands, I fear that both the South and West Teren might rebel. I must have the Gifts of the Gods to restore stability.”

  “None of that will matter if the Dromost Gate opens!”

  Handrin held up his hands to placate her. “I will send an embassy across the East Pass. We will learn from your emperor what must be done.”

  “No!” Telea shouted. “The pass will close, and then it will be too late. And without Forsvar you’ll never get past the demon the summoners have bound there.” Telea fell to her knees. “Please, I beg of you. Don’t make this mistake.” She turned to Ayja. “Keep the Orb! Come to Belen.”

  Ayja and Handrin stared at each other over Telea.

  “I will go,” Ayja said. She took Telea’s hand and raised her to her feet.”

  “What if you are betrayed by the Emperor of Belen?” Handrin asked. “What if he takes Forsvar and the Orb from you?”

  “He won’t!” Telea said. “I was there. He sent us on this embassy. He knows the danger.”

  “You’ve never even seen this Dromost Gate. Neither has your Emperor, from what you’ve told me. You only know what you know because the summoners told you, and they are the ones who betrayed you.”

  “The summoners who attacked us wanted us to fail. They want the Dromost Gate opened.”

  “Telea,” Ayja said, “must both Forsvar and the Orb of Creation go?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? What are they needed for?”