A Broken Throne

by Jordan Baker

  "What madness is this?" Jax muttered as he and Brian got up from their seats.

  The banquet hall was quickly becoming a battlefield as the new captains set about attacking the other fighters, some of whom had already grabbed chairs, candle holders, plates and anything else they could use to defend themselves. Despite their efforts the blood flowed quickly as fighters were slaughtered without mercy. Some of those who had received swords still stood at their tables, not sure what to do or simply unwilling to participate in such a ghastly scene, but they were quickly surrounded by the other fighters. One of them rushed up to Brian and tried to grab the sword from his belt.

  "What are you doing?" Brian exclaimed, shoving him away.

  "Give me that sword!" the man yelled and Brian pushed him harder.

  "Stop this," Brian said as several unarmed fighters surrounded him. "Everyone stop this madness!"

  "If you won't use that sword, then give it here!" yelled one of the fighters, and the whole group of them leapt at him, pulling and prying, trying to get at his sword.

  Brian swung his fists and spun around, shouldering into several of them, knocking them away. The fighters drew back and Brian glanced over at Jax, who had leapt atop the table and drawn his sword. One of the fighters tried to grab at his legs but the thief neatly skipped over his reach, then he kicked him in the face, knocking him to the ground. He turned to look at Brian, who was surrounded by a half dozen fighters, all of them eying his sword.

  "They're not going to listen to you," Jax told him.

  "I don't want to kill them," Brian yelled.

  "It is kill or be killed," said one of the fighters. "If you don't have the guts then you shouldn't get to command in the king's army. I'll take that job if you don't want it."

  "I told you," Jax said. "Now, come on, let's get out of here."

  "A little help?" Brian said as he swatted away at one of the fighters.

  "Oh, come on, Brian," Jax said. "Do you really need my help?"

  Brian looked around at the fighters, sizing them up.

  "No," he said. "I suppose not."

  "Ha!" one of them laughed, then Brian's fist smashed into his face.

  Brian spun to the side and caught another fighter in the side of the head with his armored elbow, knocking him to the floor. Two of the fighters on either side of him leapt toward him and Brian grabbed one and sent him crashing into the other, then he sidestepped an attack and spun around and punched his attacker hard in the gut. The man doubled over and retched as everything he had eaten at the dinner came up and spilled onto the floor. Brian clubbed him in the head with his armored forearm and the fighter fell forward, landing on the mess he had made. The two fighters who had collided came at him again and Brian hit each of them, one after the other, his powerful fists connecting with their faces, knocking each of them out cold. A few more fighters had broken loose from the larger fray at the end of the hall and were now heading toward Brian. Jax hopped down from the table.

  "You're going to have to draw that sword," he said. "Now come on, Brian, let's go."

  "Where?" Brian asked.

  "That way," Jax told him, pointing at the front of the hall where Cerric and his guests had exited.

  "There are at least thirty soldiers guarding that door."

  "More like fifty," Jax said, holding up his blade. "And they all have swords."

  "Wonderful," Brian said, drawing his sword as he followed the thief toward the soldiers.

  "We don't have to beat them all," Jax told him. "We just have to get past them and through that door."

  "And then what?"

  "Let's worry about that after we get out of here."

  Jax ran toward the soldiers and attacked two at once, knocking them out of his way and Brian followed close behind, pushing aside several more. He saw Pike running toward them, along with several other fighters who appeared to have had the same idea of how to get out of the hall. They fought hard against the trained and well armored soldiers and Brian noticed that Jax moved must faster than he thought even possible, the thief's sword almost disappearing in the air, with every cut, thrust and parry. They were almost all the way through the soldiers when another group of them streamed through the doorway.

  "What do we do now?" Brian asked.

  "Right now, keep fighting!" Jax yelled.

  *****

  "How long do you intend to let it go on?" Calexis asked as she poured two cups of wine and handed one to Cerric.

  "At least until there are none left without a sword," Cerric told her. "It wouldn't be fair to spare anyone, now would it? "

  "I suppose not," Calexis said, taking a sip of her wine.

  "I am pleased that Draxis has returned."

  "Are you?" Calexis was skeptical.

  "Of course," Cerric said with a grin. "He is an excellent fighter, and proved himself a worthy commander at Kandara."

  "Then why do you not show your appreciation?"

  "When he learns to show proper respect, I will show him my appreciation," Cerric said. "He is young and petulant, which I suppose is a function of youth, but he will soon learn his place. It will be good for him to work his way back to a proper command. For now, let him fight as a captain. I have no doubt he will distinguish himself in the war."

  "Of course," Calexis said. "He is Draxis, a prince, born of power."

  "That he is," Cerric replied. "I often wonder how it was that you brought yourself to mate with those Darga. I have heard that it has happened before, a half-breed child here and there, but never willingly. I have also heard they can be quite forceful."

  "None of them compares with the power of a god," Calexis said. "And I have an appetite for power, as do you."

  "It is true," Cerric said, sipping his wine. "I can almost feel the power growing in those who are fighting and winning right now. Fifty with blades of power against five hundred more, unarmed though they may be, but skilled nonetheless. When this fight is done, those left standing will be exceptional and they will lead my army into the elven forests and turn it and its people to ash and dust."

  "Then let us enjoy this moment," Calexis suggested as she stepped closer to him, gently resting her hand on his side. She lifted her cup and touched it to his, then she took a sip from it. "A toast to your power and to the victory of your army."

  Cerric sipped his wine, his piercing coal black eyes staring at her.

  "It is my army now, is it?"

  Calexis shrugged and looked up at him with half lidded eyes.

  "I may defy you in the bedroom, but I know your power in the world," she said. "Of course it is your army."

  "I am pleased to see you have finally come to understand the way of things," Cerric said. "Is it because Draxis has returned that you take a softer tack with me?"

  "Draxis will learn how to please you. He will learn or he will suffer."

  "And what about you?"

  "Do I not know how to please you? Will you teach me?" Calexis slid her hand between his legs. "Perhaps I want to learn."

  "You mock me," Cerric said, gripping her arm.

  "Will you teach me a lesson, then?" Calexis stepped toward the bed. She tipped back her cup, drinking the rest of her wine in one swallow. "Come, show me your power. All this killing makes me hunger."

  "You are lust incarnate," Cerric said as he followed her. "If there was such a goddess, you would be a high priestess."

  "Can a god satisfy my lust?" Calexis asked as she got up onto the bed on her knees and began to unfasten his belt. "Your power is intoxicating."

  "You cannot resist," Cerric said, smiling as he felt her lips upon him.

  "It is so very hard to resist," Calexis whispered, pausing to look up at him. "I do try, but I succumb to you every time."

  Cerric emptied his cup as she teased him for a moment then let her desire take over, pleasuring him more intensely than ever before. He let his empty cup fall to the floor and moved toward her, pressing hard against her as he knelt on the bed. Cerric reached down and p
ulled up the bottom of her black dress and found her more than ready for him. He grasped the delicately woven fabric and tore it from her as she continued with even greater enthusiasm. Cerric grasped one of her breasts in his hand and pushed her from him, onto her back and slid between her knees as she tore open his shirt. Her hands grasped his back and she pulled him into her, her sharp nails digging into his flesh as he delved deep inside her.

  Calexis wrapped her legs around him as he pressed harder and harder, and she clawed at the bedcovers with her hands, pulling the rich fabric into a tousled mess around her. With every muscle and contraction she gripped him, urging him deeper all the while gasping at not only the pleasure that left her reeling but the overwhelming power that emanated from him. She arched her back and neck, unable to contain the toothy smile that crossed her face as she felt him twitch, and she tightened her body, gripping him hard and pulled him even deeper inside her with her legs. His powerful muscles began to shake as his body twitched again, and she felt the hard pulse as his essence suddenly spread inside her, over and over, deeper and deeper. Calexis gasped as her own pleasure overcame her and she could barely control herself, her body responding to him, coaxing even more from him. Finally, the pressure subsided and she lay back on the bed, reveling the sensation as she felt his seed take root within her. Calexis sighed and looked up at him, her legs still locked around the small of his back.

  "Now that was a conquest," she said with a deep sigh.

  "You have been conquered many times," Cerric said.

  "Yes," Calexis replied. "And my walls do tremble at your coming approach, but now, I am the one who has conquered."

  "You have?" Cerric chuckled.

  "Oh yes," Calexis told him with a tired smile. "I most certainly have."

  Cerric gasped when the dagger slammed into his stomach, its warm metal somehow like cold fingers inside of him. His eyes wide, he looked down at Calexis as she grasped the knife with both hands and pushed it deeper, holding him tightly with her legs. Cerric tried to push her away, but her strength was far greater than ever before, and he realized what kind of blade she had used and he stopped, closed his eyes then looked at her calmly.

  "Do you think that will save you?" he asked.

  "I can feel your power in me already," she said, laughing.

  "Power." He shrugged. "What good is power without the knowledge to use it. You have used this weapon incorrectly and it will destroy you."

  "You lie," she said. "I heard you tell those fighters how the swords work but I have already learned that secret. This dagger is the same, and your power is now mine."

  "I lied to them," Cerric told her. "Now you will destroy everything, including yourself. You are a fool, Calexis."

  "How am I a fool?"

  "Without my power, the mages would become free, and so would half the army. They will turn on you as surely as you have turned on me. All that I have worked for, all of this will be for naught. And they will kill you, for the power of those blades will turn them mad and it will do the same to you."

  "What's this?"

  "Why do you think it was so difficult to find them?" Cerric asked, his voice deepening to a low, gravelly rumble. "Those weapons were hidden because nothing good can come of them." His voice changed again, still deep, but darker and rasping. "Enough! You may have gained some of my power, but my magic will die with me, unless you are willing to take the essence of the god within me."

  Cerric's eyelids closed and his face fell slack and Calexis felt his body go limp as he began to lose consciousness. She slapped him in the face and he opened his eyes again.

  "How can I take the essence of the god?" she asked.

  "Why should I tell you?" Cerric replied, his voice as it usually was, though his tone was sullen, that of a defeated man. "You have killed me."

  "Damn you," Calexis said, twisting the blade even harder.

  A dark look crossed Cerric's face and all the light fled from the room, replaced by an ominous shadow coursing with energy that was darker still but somehow seemed to glow with a purplish hue, though it was not even a color.

  "You are clever," he said, his voice, far deeper than his own, that echoed in the room. "Far more clever than that fool, Cerric."

  Calexis stopped, transfixed by a fear that excited her.

  "Who are you?" she asked, though she already knew.

  "I am the god, the one whose power you seek."

  "The one whose power I take," Calexis said.

  The god laughed.

  "You take but a sliver of power."

  "I will take what I can get if it will make me greater than any other."

  The god laughed again.

  "There are others, far more powerful than you and they will see to your doom."

  "What must I do to defeat them?" Calexis asked, her confidence beginning to waver.

  "I will make you the same offer I made to this one. Let me come into you and I will show you power that you could never imagine. Even now, the mage priests make the final preparations for a spell that will gather even more power. You have seen the crystals they place throughout the city."

  "Yes," Calexis said. "I have seen them. Cerric has been obsessed with what they are doing."

  "Of course. His hunger for power is almost as great as your own. Do not think I have not seen it."

  "You have been here all along, inside him?"

  "That I have."

  "And you would be in me and give me the same power?"

  "Yes."

  "How?"

  "You have but to ask for it. Welcome me, and I will come."

  "I will," Calexis said. "I do."

  "Then feel my power flow into you."

  Cerric's hands rose and gently touched either side of her head and Calexis felt a touch upon her mind. Even that slight sensation coursed energy through her and her breath caught as she felt her arousal piquing again.

  "Yes, come into me," she said, reveling in the feeling of the power of the god as dark and powerful energy began to flow inside her.

  The hands gripped her head more tightly now and Calexis felt the power start to rush, flooding through her entire being. Never before had she felt such ecstasy and she writhed in pleasure at it. The hands gripped her head tighter and her skull began to hurt, and Calexis barely noticed it as her thoughts tumbled around in her mind, awash with countless thoughts that were not her own. She felt a sharpness in her head, and blinked at the pain, then she realized that she was alone in a sea of darkness. The thoughts she had seen and felt suddenly crystallized within her own, then turned dark and malevolent, and she screamed, but no sound came from her lips.

  She felt her body relax as Cerric's hands fell away, and she felt her arm lift and her hand push him from her, what seemed like barely a nudge that sent him flying against the wall next to the bed, where he fell and crumpled to a heap on the floor. She felt her own hands run over her body, touching herself in every place, then she felt her legs swing from the bed and her feet touch the cool, stone floor. Her feet moved as if by their own accord, padding across the room to stand in front of a tall mirror that leaned against the wall, and through eyes that were no longer her own, Calexis saw herself, standing, looking, smiling at her naked body, covered in the blood of the king she had killed, and she saw herself laugh. She looked in the mirror and the eyes of another stared back at her, and while her mouth curled into a sharp toothed grin and her body shook with laughter, and, beneath the laughter, Calexis screamed as she had never screamed before.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Draxis looked around at the bloody mess of the hall as the winners of Cerric's tourney hacked away mercilessly at those who had lost, and he decided he had killed enough. While it felt good to kill with the sword he had received, its power was no different than the axe he had taken from the Kandaran duke, who had been apparently unaware of the secret of its magic. Draxis had already killed hundreds with Boric's great axe, making himself far more powerful than he had let on. It was something Dra
xis was sure that Cerric had also done using a similar magic, making himself powerful enough to fool people into thinking he was some sort of god.

  Now he would carry out his threat and kill Cerric the usurper, the foolish king who had so carelessly cast him aside, and with the weapon he had given him, he would take his power. Draxis walked away from the fight, trudging across sticky, wet floors and stepping over the limbs and bodies of the fallen and he threw off his cloak. Grayish black leathery wings opened wide behind him and he leapt into the air. Several of the fighters below stopped and stared as Draxis flew up above them in the great hall and, with a few beats of his wings, he made it to an upper balcony and landed atop the ornate, wooden rail, then he tucked his wings together and disappeared through the doors at the far end.

  Below, Jax and Brian, along with Pike and several other fighters, battled the soldiers, trying to get to the door. They had fought their way through most of the soldiers only to have more of them enter the hall, and it seemed they were coming with no end. Brian heard the voices whispering to him in his thoughts, urging him to use their power. He accepted their gift and was amazed when his strength not only returned but was far greater than it had been, and he began to fight even harder than before.

  "You've got another wind," Jax commented as he fended off one of the soldiers.

  "It's the voices," Brian told him as he cut down another soldier "They give me strength through my armor. I feel like I could fight ten at a time."

  "Well, in that case, I suppose there's no need to hold back," Jax said, and he began to cut a path through the soldiers, moving with speed and power that seemed almost impossible. Brian wondered how the thief could have such ability on his own, but he set aside his questions and focused on the battle, for it seemed they were almost through the worst of it.

  "Pike," Brian yelled to the young Xallan. "Follow us!"

  "Right," Pike said. "Lead the way!"

  They cut a swath through the soldiers and made it to the door, to find it barred from the other side. Pike and Jax fended off the soldiers as Brian pounded on the heavy wood, but it would not budge. He heard the voices whisper to him, but they were faint and he was not sure exactly what they were trying to say, then he felt his arms and legs grow stronger and his body felt like it was heavier somehow. "Splinters," said the voices and Brian felt the urge to smash the door with his fist. Deciding it was no time to wonder what the voices meant, he went with the feeling and swung at the door. The wood crashed outward as the door shattered to pieces and Brian was almost stunned by the force with which it broke.