Evangeline had seen the look before on Glais. Just as Glais had been victim to the power of the curse when he had attacked her on horseback, Quintus was no longer in charge of his own body. The curse animated the King’s figure, and Evangeline prayed for the rebels. She believed that no one would beat the curse.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Christof was stunned into silence in the middle of the bloodshed, forced to witness as the Braykith king tore Wade apart with his bare hands. Watching him heaving with the effort, Christof was frozen as Quintus raised his face to the night and a noise erupted from his throat. The sound was inhuman, drawn out and echoed over the lands with more force than any animal Christof had witnessed. He remained frozen for only an instant, every person on the field pausing as the sound echoed through the dark, before his body returned to action.
He could never be certain on much, but Christof was sure on this. A King would die this night.
A battle cry of his own interrupted the end of Quintus’ howl, bringing his sword down with both hands. He did not see Quintus lift his sword, but as the metal hit against each other it rebounded, and Christof followed the natural arch, moving with the momentum to strike against Quintus again. Quintus seemed almost mechanical in his approach, but with a lethal edge that had Christof backing away instead of advancing. The Braykith King was too strong, using a power that Christof had never seen before. Being on the receiving end all of that energy and power scared him and Christof could feel himself failing.
Although Christof had not told his own, he knew that there would be no retreat for the rebels. Christof knew that if they retreated now, it would only bring them defeat later. Perhaps not tonight but soon. The tension had been growing, and Christof had been building for this last stand against their oppressors. He had brought this war to Quintus, and it would end here, regardless of the outcome.
Christof rolled out of the way just before Quintus could bring his sword down upon his body. Getting his feet under him, Christof grunted with the effort of every blow, and yet it seemed Quintus did not have the same limitations. There was no rushed breath and no grunt when Christof ran into him with all he had. The rebellion chieftain cried out in frustrations, and Quintus moved with the grace of an assassin.
Every strike out at Quintus was with all of his power, and still, Quintus seemed unmoved by the ferocious energy of the rebels’ leader. He parried blow after blow, not with an arrogance like Barrett had shown, but almost like Quintus was Christof’s patient teacher and waiting for the right moment to clarify to him a lesson. It was a distraction of a whole other level to know that the fight was not consuming Quintus, but instead, it was merely the act that would lead up to the grand finale.
“Look at me,” Christof screamed in frustration, and Quintus’ eyes shifted, boring into Christof’s mind. The man shrunk away from the fierce stare, stumbling backwards from just that look of pure energy. He felt Quintus in his soul, and Christof’s breath caught in his chest, unmovable and suffocating.
Quintus followed the retreating Christof, continuing to silently stalk him and not caring when the other man fell as he stumbled over a dead body. Without missing a beat, Quintus still progressed as Christof scrambled to get a stronger grip on his sword as the bodies of the lost men seemed to try and grab it from him.
From nowhere, Yolanda leapt onto Quintus’ back, and her dagger jammed between his armour and into his neck. Quintus did not stop. He did not feel the knife, or the weight of the woman on his back as she tried to pull the blade free so she could use it again. He smelt blood and agony around him and knowing he was the cause brought Quintus a strength that had nothing to do with human limitations. Each breath energised him, and Quintus brought his sword down on Christof again even as Yolanda hugged his back, hoping to send him off balance as she threw herself wildly to the right.
Christof rolled at the last moment, the sword digging into the soil and stayed there. Quintus left the sword where it was when it did not instantly come free as he pulled on the handle. Christof had seen that Quintus could kill him easy with no weapons. There was no relief in Christof as the enraged King came at Christof with bare hands. Christof thrust his own sword forward, looking to get between the layers of metal armour, but it was a wasted effort. Quintus caught the other man’s blade between his palms, immovable and useless as Christof panicked.
Quintus smirked, the barest sign of someone being inside the dangerous shell which had been rampaging the grounds. Christof could not be certain if Quintus had not been responsible for the death of some of the Braykith men that lay slaughtered around them now. Considering that face, Christof was willing to bet that more than one Braykith soldier had found death under their king’s weapon. Quintus could no longer recognise friend or foe.
With a sudden twisting movement of his hands, the sword bent where Quintus had been holding it. Surprised, Christof dropped the handle, and the metal fell uselessly to the ground. Yolanda finally pried the knife out of Quintus’ neck and plunged it back into his throat. With all the energy she could muster, Yolanda ripped the blade to the side, and Quintus fell to his knees. Blood pooled from the wound, and Christof let out a breath of relief as Quintus put a hand to his own throat.
Christof stood, and Quintus echoed him. Frozen with debrief of what he was seeing, Christof watched as Quintus swayed once on the spot before his footing stood firmer underneath him. Yolanda looked up, panting hard and having no words to describe what she was witnessing. Quintus beckoned Christof with a particular beckoning gesture of his hand. Christof could not respond. He could not understand what he saw, and the combat continued to rage as if there was no dark miracle on the battlefield.
As he looked at the King, it seemed that the blood no longer flowed from his neck. The darkness hid the truth from Christof no matter how his eyes begged to see, but it was evident that the steady stream he had been expecting no longer flowed. Quintus seemed to barely register the wound anymore. Instead, he walked for his sword. Quintus gave it a tug, failed and pulled harder on the ancient handle. The blade slid free from the earth, Quintus not even cleaning the blade before he turned to confront Christof again. “How?” Christof asked, and never received his answer.
Evangeline cried out inside her own head as an arrow entered Quintus’ right eye, striking him dead before she could believe that the arrow had hit at all. The scene dissolved around her and Evangeline was soon standing back beside the trees near her rooms. Her knees gave way, gravity seeming to crash upon her as she fell to her knees. Evangeline stayed there, clutching her stomach as she rejected everything within her body.
Shivering, Evangeline crawled away from the mess, wiping the tears from her eyes as she tried to remember where she was, and why she had been forced to witness the events. “Glais?” she asked and looked around.
“I do not see him,” Alisma answered quietly. “I am sorry Evangeline. I couldn’t get you out sooner.”
Evangeline shook her head, using the nearest tree for support as she forced her feet under her. Holding the hems of her dress she did not try and speak with Alisma, for there was nothing to be said. She needed to find Glais and make sure he had not left the castle grounds. Instinctively she took off, crossing the grounds faster than any lady should. Evangeline sprinted towards the stables and did not stop as she flung open the door. She barely got a foot inside the building when Glais stormed free of it, pulling his horse along behind him. “Glais.” She called out.
His horse, Indris, danced on the spot but a quick tug of the reins kept her under Glais’ command. “Get back inside the castle.” He snarled at her, pausing to prepare before he would drag himself into Indris’ saddle.
“Stop.” Evangeline reached out for him, but her fingertips ran over the side of the horse instead. She was too slow, and Glais was fuelled by the energy that made up the curse. It caused Evangeline to pause, remembering the look of Quintus on the field and seeing a spark of that ruthlessness in Glais now. Swallowing her, she touched his pant l
eg softly. “Glais there is nothing to be done now.”
Glais looked down on her, the sudden movement causing his hair to whip around his face and cover him in its shadow. “How can you know?” He asked.
“Because I saw it. Quintus is dead.” Evangeline didn’t realise she was crying until she tasted the salt in her mouth. “Glais you need to stop, please.” She begged, hearing soldiers approach from the castle but knowing they would arrive too late if Glais took off now.
Glais did not want to stay. He did not want to believe her either when she said that his father had died. He thought he would feel some kind of reaction deep within his core should the time come to pass. They shared the curse, and it ran between them in ways no one understood, but Glais felt nothing but the burning need for vengeance.
“If you go Glais, you die, and then what will become of Braykith?” Evangeline asked. Her words finally seemed to have a reaction in him, and she gripped onto his leg tighter, hoping to get through to him. “The Kingdom needs you now more than before. They need to have a strong King to lead them.” Evangeline pleaded with him.
Glais nodded, but it took much longer before he released the firm hold he had on his horse. Sliding down, he hit the ground and leant back on Indris’ side. Wiping his hand back through his hair he sighed. “Did you really see him die?” He asked. Evangeline nodded, but when she reached out for him, Glais pulled his head back. He could not handle her false comfort now. “Do you know the place?” he asked.
“I do.” She answered, lowering her hand quickly at his rejection. “It seemed to be just before the mountain pass.”
Glais nodded. He looked up as the sound of approach men grew louder. He grabbed Evangeline roughly by the shoulders and pulled her closer. To her credit, she did not fight him or yelp. “Evangeline, I will have much to ask of you in the coming weeks, and I hope you can handle those requests without fighting me.” They stood there, inches apart.
Evangeline could taste his breath on her tongue. She knew the need for vengeance had not left him, but she did finally believe that Glais would not go seeking the rebels tonight. She nodded. “I promise Glais.”
He released her and without further words started back towards the stables with his horse following without being lead. The Braykith mounts were both terrifying and intelligent. No one needed to tell Indris that they were not going to be leaving anytime soon. Glais paused, looking over his shoulder. “You say Braykith needs a strong King, and I remind you that Braykith still needs its Queen.”
Evangeline nodded. “Of course Glais, whatever I can do.” She offered, even if they both knew that those words were not truth. Evangeline did not blindly follow, and there were lines she could not cross. None of those mattered to Glais right now.
“I need you to return to the castle…” Glais pressed his lips together as he struggled to form the words he needed to say. He looked back at Evangeline, her eyes already wide with fright from what she had just witnessed. Glais did not want to add to her plight, and yet he had no other choice. “Eva…” he tried again but failed.
“Glais, what do you need?” Evangeline crossed the space between them and caught his hand in both of hers, feeling his pulse race under her fingertips. His hands trembled as he layered his hand over hers. Evangeline squeezed his hand in response, trying hard to give Glais the support he clearly needed. She could not think of what could cause him such distress, and couldn’t attempt to guess at what he meant to say.
“You need to go to the castle and be careful of me. I need…” Evangeline pulled her hands free from his, but he didn’t try and trap her. There was no point, and Glais was barely able to maintain eye contact. “The curse is going to be angry.”
“Isn’t it always angry?” Evangeline asked.
“With my father gone, it will be harder to control. It will grow desperate.” Glais struggled to explain the factors of the curse that he knew so little about.
“Glais, what are you telling me?” Evangeline took a small step away from him so she was no longer within easy reach. She wanted to run away from him, to flee but she could not abandon him while the news of his father’s death was so fresh.
“I cannot be trusted. It is worse than you fear I could be.” Glair nodded towards the castle. The soldiers were within easy reach now, and he nodded to them. “Return Evangeline to the castle and send Steven to my rooms.” He stopped himself before asking for Victoria. He knew that Evangeline would never forgive him for this, but he was doing his best to make it as simple as possible.
Glais opened his mouth again, but Evangeline just nodded, and took her leave, rushing back towards the castle. Glais watched her leave before going to the stables. He needed the momentary solitude to create a better plan for the pain that could befall Braykith now it had lost its King.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
It did not seem fair that the birds were singing in the trees, and the skies were a brilliant blue. Glais had been gone since before Evangeline could wake. She was not even certain if Glais had come to bed at all. Once this would have pleased her, but now Evangeline wondered if Glais was ok. She had been quick to Wick and Sable when they entered her chambers. Evangeline was not prepared for this day to come, and now it was here she wished to suffer it alone.
She had been burdened with the images of the King’s final moments, and she alone knew what the power of the death-wielding predator that was the Braykith curse as it fought for its life. Evangeline now found it so hard to relax with Glais, knowing this same effect could overcome him and yet she obsessed over him whenever they were separated. Lack of sleep and food was taking its toll on her appearance, but she felt helpless in changing how she felt. Going through the motions slowly, Evangeline prepared her own tea, but she did not sip from the cup. It sat untouched before her as Evangeline struggled with regaining enough strength to be seen and judged by the public.
King Quintus had been killed by the rebel’s leader some days ago, but it all felt so fresh and immediate in her mind. Her stomach threatened to rebel, but with nothing in her, Evangeline had nothing to reject. She shivered, looking at the now cold tea and could feel nothing for it. A light knock interrupted her thoughts and making sure she looked presentable enough Evangeline turned towards it. “Come in.” She was surprised to see Glais there. He rarely knocked before entering their room anymore.
He closed the door gently behind him. He leant back against the wood and hung his head. “Sorry, I just needed a break.” He murmured so softly Evangeline hardly heard him.
“Don’t be so silly.” She rose from her seat and approached him but stopped when he put his hand up to stop her. “I am worried about you Glais.” Evangeline awkwardly looked down at her hands, not able to look him in the eye. “I thought it would be worse than it is. You seem reasonable to me.”
He nodded. “Me too.” He admitted but did not elaborate further on that. He had been waiting for an uncontrollable blood lust to hit or the overwhelming desire for sex that would control his every waking thought but neither of these had happened. Glais was not going to just write the old stories off as imagination, but he now knew that he had some time before his life was no longer entirely his own. “Sable told me you refused them this morning.” Glais wanted to change the subject.
Evangeline nodded. “I am not prepared for the funeral, and I apologise.”
Glais sighed, looking up a little so he could see more of her. “I do request you attend.”
“Oh, yes, that isn’t the problem.” She assured him. Attending the funeral of Quintus was not what had kept her from getting ready. “Quintus was always welcoming to me and had his reasons for plotting against me near the end. I would never imagine not attending his funeral. I just have not felt right since…” her words trailed off as they often did when the conversation moved towards the fight that ended his father’s life. “I will be ready before the ceremony begins.” She promised.
“Ok.” Glais looked down at the carpets.
“Is that al
l you came to tell me?” Evangeline asked.
“No.” He admitted but wiped at his eyes before falling silent again. Moments stretched between them before he could speak again. “But the other things I want to say, I am afraid of how you will react. I’m not sure if you will even care.”
Evangeline blinked at the tone of his voice, but she couldn’t be surprised at his assessment. There were very few things that Glais could tell her that would make her happy. “If I can help you Glais, then I want you to tell me how best to do that.” She wanted desperately to help eliminate some of his stress.
“I know that, but asking is harder then you make it sound.” Glais closed his eyes and ran both hands back through his hair in frustration before he calmed quickly. Regardless of how he felt in this very moment, he knew that he needed to stay in control. The smallest tension could be the moment the curse struck out at him. “I am going to be sleeping in a separate wing of the castle.” He told her. “To try and keep all of this in control and out of the gossip circles.”
Evangeline bit her bottom lip, sucking on it lightly before she released it. She needed to stop being afraid of Glais and the curse and find a way to understand it. Evangeline felt the only way to do that was to find the answers herself. “Glais, what are you afraid of happening?” she asked.
“The worst.” Was all he managed to say, unable to put more imagery to his fears than those two words, before Glais shrugged. He knew that he had not provided a good enough answer for her. “All those things that you believed are in me, the monster that scares you, it will come. I do not want to risk making you a victim.”
Evangeline nodded, feeling sickness dig at her stomach as she remembered the way Quintus had moved during the fight. She had been hundreds of miles away, and she still felt intimated by him. Evangeline knew that she had only ever witnessed such a small example of what Glais could do, and the combined energy should rip a man apart. Evangeline knew that she would not be so lucky. The curse would find a way to survive. “There is so much you don't tell me.” She said, the realisation evident in her voice.
Delusions of Loyalty (The Braykith Series Book 2) Page 40
