Halls of Power (Ancient Dreams Book 3)

by Benjamin Medrano

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m glad we made it as well,” Colonel Gross said. The man had short brown hair and a beard which was well-trimmed, and was otherwise fairly average for a native of Kelvanis. He looked out on the scene unhappily for a moment before continuing. “I must say that I’m glad we didn’t leave a day later. If we had, we would’ve run headlong into them. That would have been unpleasant.”

  “That’s one way to put it. I certainly wouldn’t have been pleased to hear about you getting yourself hammered by Kelvanis,” Slaid interjected, frowning and nodding at the forming siege. “What do we do about them, though?”

  “There aren’t any targets worth using the beacon itself on, and most of the city’s enchantments are defensive in nature,” Farris murmured, seeming to consider, frowning. “I don’t see many options that wouldn’t risk catastrophic losses.”

  Phynis’ lips pressed together tightly, but she sighed and shook her head, stepping away from the overlook unhappily. There was little enough she could do at the moment, and she looked at Sistina curiously. “Any ideas, Sistina?”

  “Yes. They are… unworkable,” the dryad replied slowly, shrugging as she added, “Need mana for emergencies, like Tyria. Otherwise could help, but…”

  “Well, that’s unfortunate. Still, worst case we have the inner walls. The farther we get up the mountain, the harder it’ll be for them,” Vendis replied, eying the attackers dubiously. “I don’t want to do that unless we have no other choice, though.”

  “Absolutely. We’re going to do our best to tie them down and whittle away at their strength, hopefully giving Sifaren and Yisara a chance to gut Kelvanis’ armies,” Phynis told them, speaking with more confidence than she actually felt.

  Murmurs of assent from the others made her feel better, and then the Colonel spoke up, somewhat nervously. “What about my men? I know that you have to assume that some of us could be infiltrators, so I don’t expect anything too important, but how do you want us to contribute?”

  Rather than replying directly, Phynis looked at Slaid and raised an eyebrow at him. “Slaid? What would you prefer, since he’s part of your organization?”

  “You’re right, Steve. We can’t assume that all your men are loyal, but I doubt many of them are agents of Kelvanis, since I can’t imagine they’d let you betray them like you did outside Galthor. I’d guess a few have had second thoughts, though,” Slaid told the man, pausing to look at the others before continuing. “I’d say we should give any of them who want to leave the chance to do so. If they do, let them go. For the others, until we’re sure of them let’s use them to guard the walls well away from the gates and the like, just to reduce any temptation they might have to do something foolish. What do you think?”

  “Hmm… you’ve got a point. I don’t like to think that any of them might be considering going back to Kelvanis, but it’s possible, and your solution seems fair,” Colonel Gross admitted, looking at Phynis as he asked, “Does that seem fair to you, Your Majesty?”

  “It does. I’m also gratified that you’re taking it as well as you are,” Phynis told him, smiling as he nodded in relief. After a moment, she moved on to her last question. “That being said… what was this about a spy?”

  As she spoke, Sistina had moved to the window, looking out with a hint of speculation on her face. Colonel Gross coughed and spoke after a moment, looking uncertain. “Well, when we left Galthor with those who wished to come here, one of those we were entrusted with was a captive, a woman named Arise Ennarra. Supposedly she was blackmailed with the safety of her sister into passing information back and forth for Kelvanis, as well as spying in the city. She was Farren Galthor’s contact.”

  “She’s the one who passed along the information on your route, Your Majesty.” Vendis’ voice was flat and angry. “You never would have been captured if it hadn’t been for her.”

  “I see. Well, I’ll meet with her soon enough,” Phynis replied, trying to untangle her confused morass of emotions. Trying to set it aside, she continued. “I’ll meet with her in the throne room in an hour.”

  “Are you certain? While I’m fairly certain she won’t have weapons, letting her into the same room as you seems like a bad idea,” Slaid asked, flushing as the others looked at him curiously. “What? There’ve been enough assassination attempts on both sides I think it’s a legitimate question.”

  “It is, and I’m sure. I need to deal with this, one way or another,” Phynis told him, smiling thinly as she continued, looking at Sistina. “I’m trying to decide how I feel about her, to be honest.”

  “What? Why is there any question?” Vendis asked, disbelief evident on her face.

  “Look around us. Would we even be here if she hadn’t passed along the information? Would this city be here? Would I have met my beloved, let alone have her assistance now?” Phynis asked softly, reaching out and squeezing the dryad’s shoulder, and Sistina turned, smiling and setting a hand on Phynis’ own. “Oh, the dungeon would have been found when the first adventurers arrived, but we likely would never have met Sistina, and Topaz and the others wouldn’t have been freed by her.”

  “She has a point,” Topaz murmured, stepping forward and bowing her head slightly to Phynis as she continued. “While I may have mixed opinions on many things, I don’t want to consider what would have happened if I hadn’t been captured by Sistina.”

  “I… I suppose that’s fair. I don’t think she was right to do it, though,” Vendis finally admitted grudgingly.

  “Oh, I entirely agree with you. That’s why I want an hour to think things over, and I’m not letting her off completely,” Phynis assured her, her eyes and mood darkening. “I’ve a pretty good idea of what the others went through, after all. Even if they’ve never told me.”

  “Very well, Your Majesty. We should let you start thinking things over, then.” Slaid spoke quickly, looking at Colonel Gross as he asked, “Steve? Care to join me in the barracks and catch up for a bit?”

  “After the last few days, that sounds wonderful,” the man replied fervently, and followed Slaid out, with Vendis in his wake.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Topaz asked once most of the others were gone, and Phynis smiled at her.

  “Thank you, but no. I would like you to be there, though. You and Farris, at the least,” the Queen replied softly.

  “Definitely,” Topaz promised, her eyes dancing as she grinned. “It’s enormously better than trying to get through Zenith’s stubborn skull.”

  Sistina giggled softly at that, amused.

  “Hello, Your Majesty,” Arise said, curtseying deeply. She looked nervous, as well she should.

  Behind her was the woman’s sister, who also curtsied, and Phynis had to work to pull her gaze away from Iris’ mutilated ears and the faint marks of where she’d obviously been whipped and abused. Both women were wearing simple dresses, but finely made despite that. Phynis vaguely remembered meeting Arise in passing during her visit to Galthor, as the attractive woman was the type to stick in her memory.

  “I’m told, Ms. Ennarra, that I have you to thank for my treatment by Kelvanis this past year. Is this true?” Phynis replied coolly, focusing on Arise’s expression. How the woman reacted would determine much.

  “It is. While your route was passed to me by Farren, I’m the one who passed it on, Your Majesty,” Arise replied, maintaining her curtsey and hesitating before continuing. “I… I also wished to convey my apologies. While I know that what I did was horrible, I saw little choice at the time.”

  “You want to apologize?” Phynis asked, incredulous. “I was kidnapped and branded by Kelvanis, along with my guard and maids! Dozens of others died at a minimum because of your actions! How can a mere apology make up for that?”

  “No apology could, Your Majesty. That’s why I came here. I was given the opportunity to go into exile, via a border of my choice, but I asked to be brought here for my sister.” Arise’s voice trembled, and she swallowed as she glanced up a
t Phynis, then lowered her gaze again. “Iris did nothing. She didn’t deserve what happened to her, just like you didn’t. I did what I could, but it was a mistake. For that… I’m willing to pay the price for what I did. Anything you choose. Just please, let Iris find some modicum of freedom? Please?”

  “Arise!” Iris exclaimed, her head jerking upright as she protested. “But you said that we’d open a shop together! That you wouldn’t leave me alone, not again!”

  “Ms. Iris, I—” Phynis began, only to be interrupted by the woman as she stood up straight.

  “Please, Your Majesty, I know that what she did was horrible, but… but she’s my only family!” Iris begged, her voice breaking.

  “I wasn’t going to take her from you,” Phynis interjected firmly, her eyes narrowing at Iris. “I don’t suppose you’d prefer that I did?”

  “What? But…” Iris looked stunned, and Phynis felt the faintest hint of amusement as Arise looked up, her confusion obvious.

  “While what Arise did was horrible, she turned back before all was lost. Dozens have likely died because of her actions, and we may never know how much damage she did.” The Queen spoke softly now, sitting back in her throne. “By the same token, who knows how much damage would have been prevented without her? I have little doubt that if she hadn’t cooperated with Kelvanis, they would have found another to take her place. It’s also possible that that agent wouldn’t have turned at the point that you did. I have a letter from Baron Galthor, and he wasn’t certain either. While I could throw you into jail and throw away the key, Arise, I don’t believe that does anyone any good at all. You said you were willing to do anything, yes?”

  “I… I did. What would you ask of me?” Arise said, almost collapsing to her knees, while her sister laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “You’ll open your shop, and you’ll stay here in Beacon, for at least the next fifty years… assuming Beacon survives, at least.” Phynis gave a cold smile at the qualification. “I imagine we will. During that time, you’ll share your books with the Royal Treasury. Half of all profit you make must be spent on helping those who were hurt by the war, whether in clothing or coin. While it may not be the perfect solution, I cannot devise a better one.”

  “That is far better than what I feared might have happened, Your Majesty. I gladly accept your offer.” Arise replied, glancing at her sister and licking her lips. “A-also, while I hesitate to say anything… Iris was branded. I was told she could be freed of Kelvanis. Might that be something that could be dealt with?”

  Phynis relaxed and looked over at Sistina, raising her eyebrows. “Sistina? Care to answer that one?”

  The dryad gave Phynis a droll look, then turned back to her guests before gesturing them forward, her voice calm. “Iris, come here. I can claim your brand.”

  “And I can heal your injuries, should you so desire,” Farris spoke up, looking at Iris in obvious pity. “I must say that they look painful.”

  “Not anymore, but if you would, I’d be eternally grateful.” Iris’ eyes brightened with unshed tears, and she stepped forward.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. I didn’t think…” Arise whispered, not rising from her knees.

  Phynis smiled gently, shaking her head. “It is nothing to me, and a great deal for others. Don’t make me regret it.”

  The other woman nodded vigorously, vowing, “I won’t. I promise it, on my life and soul.”

  Chapter 41

  Ulvian’s impatience was starting to get the better of him. After the events of the past couple of weeks, ranging from the assassination of the High Adjudicator to the betrayal of one of his commanders in the attack force sent to Sifaren, everything was going horribly wrong to the point he suspected that Kelvanis’ opponents had learned of Tyria’s imminent awakening. Fortunately, in a few minutes, that wasn’t going to matter. At least, it wouldn’t once she finally woke up.

  “Stop pacing. It’s irritating.” Elissa’s voice was calm as she looked at Tyria, the sorceress standing with perfect poise. Ulvian didn’t miss how hungry and longing her gaze was, but the woman was keeping composed far more easily than he was.

  “Why? Just because you find it annoying doesn’t mean I should stop. In fact, it might make it even more desirable to me,” Ulvian shot back, glowering at Elissa, but she ignored him. Despite his words, he did stop, pausing to look on Tyria.

  The goddess had begun to wake the previous day, but the spells surrounding her had slowed the process down dramatically. While he knew she was supposed to be enslaved, Ulvian hadn’t wanted the instruments of Tyria’s corruption present when she woke, as that theoretically could cause problems. For all his arrogance in front of others, Ulvian had no misconceptions about his own relative power to a demon lord or demigoddess of Tyria’s strength. In an army, or with a half-dozen Dungeon Slayers at his side, he might be willing to take the risk, but not on his own.

  Tyria abruptly inhaled, her lips parting as she took a deep breath, and for an instant Ulvian stopped breathing himself, his eyes going wide. It felt like she’d breathed in all the air in the room, but then she exhaled, and he found himself breathing again, growing more relaxed as the air felt like it had grown calmer and less stifling. The goddess’ hand twitched, then clasped the hilt of her sword briefly before letting go, and her eyes opened, while the luminescence from within her body grew brighter.

  Elissa inhaled sharply as Tyria’s radiance illuminated the room, and Ulvian couldn’t help but stare as the goddess sat up, her very presence seeming like a brilliant flame had entered the room, heating the air. Her eyes were bright purple, and she looked on them with cool, judging eyes. The Archon wanted to speak, but the crushing weight of her power swirled around him with every breath she took, rendering him unable to speak so much as a single word.

  “I have slept too long.” The goddess’ voice was melodious and filled with both power and a clear conviction that made Ulvian suddenly, painfully aware of just why others must worship her so. That inspiring voice would have had him considering a change of heart if it hadn’t been for Irethiel. Tyria continued, picking up her sword as she stood, extending her wings in a stretch. “I can hear the call of the faithful, and the clamor of war in the distance. Why was I allowed to sleep for so long?”

  “My Goddess, you were deeply injured in your psyche while you slept, and we wished to let you heal before calling upon your aid,” Elissa replied, her voice trembling as she curtsied deeply. “I do apologize that it was necessary, however.”

  “I… see. My mind is clouded, my memories hazy. The injury must have been deeper than I believed at first,” Tyria replied, her eyes growing distant, then focused on Elissa, narrowing. “As I slept I heard your voice, but I do not know you. Who are you, Priestess, and who do you serve?”

  Elissa licked her lips, and her voice grew still more nervous as she spoke, seeming slightly afraid for the first time in Ulvian’s memory of her. The sorceress never betrayed her fear. “I am Elissa of Silence. I have been acting as your High Priestess in Kelvanath, and in Kelvanis at large. I serve you, Lady Eminence.”

  “No, you do not.” Tyria’s voice was soft but firm, and Ulvian’s eyes widened as she unsheathed her sword, the blade forged of purple metal that ignited in violet flames as it cleared the sheath with a ringing tone. The goddess almost casually swung the blade around, placing it just under Elissa’s chin and forcing her to meet Tyria’s eyes, somehow not burning the sorceress with the flames. “I can hear the falsehood in your voice, Elissa. You do not serve me, though you may claim that you do so. Whom do you serve?”

  For a moment the Archon worried that she might be about to kill Elissa, but he kept silent, not willing to make things worse. It took several long seconds for the sorceress to find her voice, during which time the sword didn’t waver at all.

  “I… I serve myself. I was asked by Ulvian to help set up your church in Kelvanis, and I agreed, for the chance that you might be willing to grant me eternal youth,” Elissa admitted, takin
g a deep breath and continuing, gesturing at her abdomen. “I did ensure that I was branded with your sigil, that I must serve you if you so desire. In addition, I found myself enjoying my time as your priestess more than I expected.”

  “That is truth. All of your statement, in fact, which surprises me,” Tyria murmured, lowering her sword and turning her gaze to Ulvian. The weight of her gaze almost made his knees buckle, and he swallowed as she frowned. “I see. My mind has been changed. Your patron, whomever they may be, is attempting to take me as their servant and slave.”

  The Archon’s heart almost stopped, as he gasped out, “How did you know?”

  “It is obvious. I am the Goddess in Chains, and those who desire to possess me are innumerable. You have done something to me, but at present my mind is yet my own. Perhaps you will yet succeed, or perhaps I will find another who is worthy of my service.” As she spoke, Ulvian’s terror subsided as he realized that she hadn’t actually broken free of the mental changes, simply that they had taken effect in a far different manner than he’d expected. The goddess turned her attention back to Elissa, the power in her voice thickening, as heat surged through the room. “Elissa. What would you give for your desire? Are you willing to set aside your act, and serve me in truth?”

  Elissa froze in place, and Ulvian could see the woman struggle with the question. He couldn’t blame her, as she’d been a manipulator and deceiver for as long as he’d known her. To be forced to answer a question like this would be hard for her, and when Tyria could obviously sense her lies, it made it still more perilous.