Alec grinned in delight at the chance that had presented itself. He had an entry to the tournament, as part of the very clan he most wanted to keep an eye on. He bent to pick up the coins that had been tossed his way. The Scarle leader’s coin was a solid gold disk that Alec was sure would pay by itself for all the expenses he could run up in Michian.
He left his spot and began to walk through the crowd, looking at the other entertainers and enjoying the spectacle of the people and the food and the boisterous spirits that were beginning to come into evidence as people drank more and more. Then within an instant, the atmosphere changed from happiness to tension, and Alec realized that two groups were forming up in the area he was in. On one side was the Scarle clan, and a variety of men dressed in white robes with gray and black trim. On the other side were Canare members, and a smattering of people with various clothes of no particular affiliation.
“Long live Emperor Mikhail,” the Scarle forces chanted. Leading them was a very large, burly man. A man with a very ugly face – low brow, receding chin, many scars and an unpleasant scowl. He must be Nabakov, Alec surmised, the Scarle swordsman who was expected to win the right to Jeswyne.
Alec edged out of the center of the space, then drifted over to the Canare side, the side that he realized had fewer members. Suddenly a rock was thrown at the yellow robed leader of the side that supported Emperor Sergey, then a hail storm of rocks was flying in both directions. Alec was hit in the shoulder by a stone.
He looked around expecting to see men start to rush at one another, but the Scarle forces, while more numerous, held strangely back, and seemed to slowly move backwards if anything. Then guard forces seemed to descend on the shouting match in great numbers, establishing themselves between the two groups.
Every guard on the promenade must be here, Alec thought to himself, impressed with the determination the force showed to stamp out trouble. But if all the guards are here, what security do they have down by the emperor’s veranda, his mind turned to a troubling possibility. He began shoving his way through the fringe of the group and began running down the promenade back down to the end where the veranda sat above the crowded walk.
The veranda was empty. The emperor was not in sight, nor was his retinue. There was movement in the bushes on the hillside below and beside the veranda. Without hesitation, Alec began to climb the hillside, moving from tree to tree as he climbed. He paused halfway up, and studied the scene further. There were three men, all wearing the white robes with gray and black trim that Alec had seen with the Scarle forces on the promenade. They were standing together, looking up at someone on the veranda.
“He’s fleeing right now,” a voice called from above. “We’ve got a dozen men in pursuit. He’s only got a couple of loyal guards with him now. We’ll have him before the end of the night and Mikhail will be restored by sunrise.”
Alec pulled his sword loose and held it as he climbed the last steep slope up the hill. Pulling out two knives, he lay the sword down, then flipped the knives at two of the inattentive guards among the bushes. He picked up his sword and rushed the startled third man, cutting him down before he could pull his sword out of his scabbard.
“What’s going on out there?” the man on the veranda called with clear concern in his voice. Alec retrieved his knives, then climbed up on the veranda ledge and pulled himself up behind the balustrade. He cautiously raised his head and saw the man on the veranda just five feet away, looking at him with a startled expression. Alec hopped the railing, and the man pulled his sword out.
“Who are you? What happened to our men?” the man asked. He was hard-faced with short, graying hair.
“I killed them. I’ll kill you too unless you drop your sword and surrender,” Alec said.
“Who are you? Where are you from?” the man asked. Alec cursed his accent that gave him away so clearly.
“I’m here for my own purposes. Will you surrender?” Alec asked.
In reply the man charged at him and swung his sword competently. Alec had avoided using his warrior powers, and chose to try to rest his energy use as much as possible. He blocked the attack and riposted, striking the man’s shoulder lightly.
His opponent stepped back and looked at him appraisingly. “Where’s the emperor?” Alec asked.
“Which emperor do you mean?” the man asked.
Alec went on the offensive, delivering a volley of strikes that drove the man back into the hall, then knocked the sword from his hand. “Turn around,” Alec told him. He grabbed the vanquished man’s arm and pushed him from behind, driving the man ahead of him as they entered the building behind the veranda.
“Which way did they chase Sergey?” Alec asked.
“Why I should I tell you?” the man asked.
Alec was suddenly furious with the man and the situation. He sliced his sword low, severing the man’s hamstring. His captive screamed as he collapsed on the marble floor, clutching the back of his leg.
“I may see you on the way back,” Alec said, and stepped over him to enter a large, dark room. Furniture and fixtures were knocked over in a sign of physical struggle. Alec passed through the room to a doorway that showed light from beyond. There was a hallway running left and right, and echoes of noises coming from the left. Alec slipped into the hallway and ran quietly to a far doorway, where he stopped and listened.
Men were laughing somewhere. In this environment, he was sure that was a bad sign, and he cautiously moved to another doorway. Getting on his belly, he cautiously peered around the doorframe. The scene before him was half a dozen living men, standing and toasting one another. Two dead bodies were nearby, and a man wearing a golden robe was tied and trussed on the floor in the middle of the celebrants.
Chapter 47 – Back to the Tournament
Alec stood up and put his sword away, then took a deep breath. He knew he’d have to engage his warrior powers for this confrontation. He only hoped he could reduce the odds considerably first and reduce the amount of pain he would inflict on himself through the use of the energy.
He exhaled, and stepped into the room, stopping and staring after walking a dozen paces.
“Who are you?” one of the men asked him as they all turned to look at him confidently.
“I am your death,” Alec said. He pulled out his sword. “Are you ready to meet me?”
The men all looked at one another incredulously, while the captive emperor looked at him with interested eyes. No one moved towards him.
Alec pulled out a knife and threw it suddenly, burying it in the chest of one of the captors, who collapsed soundlessly. The rest of the group looked at the body in shock, then looked at Alec with hatred.
“My name was death for him too,” Alec said mockingly. “Who wanted to try their sword against mine?”
Two men came forward, and Alec attacked them before they could reach him. Within seconds one was dead and the other was badly injured. Feeling confident, Alec threw a knife quickly at one of the three remaining men standing over the emperor, then stepped forward.
“Move away from your prisoner, or you’re dead men too,” Alec told them. They looked at him closely now, one with fear and one with hatred in his eyes, and they slowly stepped back two paces. “Back in that corner,” Alec ordered as he gestured. He stepped forward and knelt by the man on the floor, keeping an eye on the two who were watching him intently. With his sword he cut the binding around the hands of Jeswyne’s father, and then cut his feet free.
His newly freed acquaintance sat up and pulled the gag out of his mouth. “Thank you, whoever you are,” he spoke the words as he spat out lint. Alec stood and helped him to stand.
“We’re leaving now. Don’t leave this room until you’re told to,” Alec told the two men whose fortunes had reversed so rapidly. He pulled his new companion by the shoulder, and led him out of the room and down the hallway in the opposite direction he had come from, then ducked into a room suddenly.
“Who are you?” he and the freed man
asked each other simultaneously. Alec laughed. “You first. Tell me if you’re who I think you are.”
“I am the Emperor Sergey, ruler of Michian, or at least most of Michian. Just not this part of it for the moment,” he responded. “Now my young rescuer with the strange accent, tell me who you are.”
A dozen responses went through Alec’s mind, but he decided to only give the one that was most important to both of them. “I am a friend of Lady Jeswyne, and I’ve come to rescue her. Once we place you someplace safe, I hope you’ll tell me where I can find her.”
The man looked shrewdly at Alec, the wheels in his mind turning. “I haven’t seen Jeswyne since before she left for the conquered lands, and I don’t really know what happened to her there, but she apparently made quite an impression. I’m sorry to say that I can’t tell you where she is right now, though I’ve certainly tried to find her myself,” he told Alec.
“Let’s get you someplace safe then, and I’ll go find her on my own,” Alec told Sergey. “Where do you want me to take you?”
“I think the main palace will still be safe. I’ve got a lot of loyal people there. I should have brought more of them with me tonight, but I thought the festival was safe from these types of attacks,” the emperor told Alec without bitterness.
Alec looked at the man’s rich golden robe, and thought about the journey through town to the main palace. “We’re going to have to get some different clothes for you,” Alec said. “Lead us back to the veranda,” he told the emperor as they left the room. He followed Sergey as they carefully ducked in and out of hallways in the nearly empty building, only occasionally seeing people they needed to hide from.
Back at the veranda the injured man Alec had left behind was missing, leaving only a puddle of blood and a trail. At the banister, Alec dropped over first, then went to his victims among the shrubbery and began to hastily undress one. “Here, put this on,” he told the emperor, who obliged without question.
Together they walked down to the still crowded promenade, then they slipped over it to the brush and swampy ground down by the river. “Do you know how to swim?” Alec asked his follower as they began to walk upstream towards the bridge.
“No, I’ve never tried to swim. Is it easy?” he asked.
“Not easy enough for you,” Alec said. “I taught Jeswyne to swim, and it took a while,” Alec answered.
“When did you do that?” the emperor asked.
Alec paused to consider. “It was in Oyster Bay. It’s not important now,” he said as they continued to struggle through the mud and the undergrowth. They found a game path and their movement became easier, letting them quickly get upriver of the bridge. They climbed up the bank to a dry spot among a grove of evergreens, where Alec insisted they wait until the promenade traffic on the bridge died down.
“Tell me where you’re from,” Sergey told Alec as they settled into their spot.
“I think you’re better off knowing as little as possible about me for now,” Alec said carefully. “You’re going to have to explain how you got rescued, and it’s best if you just say a friend of Jeswyne’s led the rescue.
“If everything goes well, I’ll tell you more when we reunite you with your daughter,” Alec said. “Do you have any idea where she is being held?”
“Mikhail is staying in a compound in the northern hills. Do you know where that is?” Sergey asked Alec, who shook his head. “It’s over a day’s ride away.”
“I heard that he’ll give her to Scarle to seal an alliance if their champion wins the tournament,” Alec replied.
“I knew Scarle was going to be trouble. I didn’t think they’d sink to openly supporting Mikhail,” the emperor said grimly. “They think we can still win this campaign in the barbarous states. They want to send every last sorceress we have to fight a great battle that will ravage every last living person on the battlefield.
“We’ve lost enough battles with demons already to show that doesn’t work anymore while they have the Demonslayer,” he explained. “And I don’t like using the demons as weapons anyway. It’s inhumane,” he said to finish his comments.
“It is,” Alec agreed, pleased to hear the opinion. They lapsed into silence until Alec noted the silence on the bridge above them. “I think it’s time to start moving,” Alec said. He led the way across the bridge and into the city, then turned leadership over to the emperor to find the way to his palace whose location was unknown to Alec. Within an hour, Sergey was limping badly, a condition that Alec attributed to the emperor’s poor physical condition and his ornamental boots that were of no value to walk in. Alec called a halt, placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, and gently released a small dose of healing energy, removing the blisters and soreness, as well as lending a boost of energy to his companion. Feeling growing energy distress, he cut off the use of his powers, relieved to have not suffered the same painful high level of discomfort he had felt earlier. He bent over, hands on his knees, waiting for the wave of distress to pass.
The emperor stepped away from Alec and studied him. “What manner of man are you, if you are a man?”
“I really think you are better off not knowing any more about me right now. The less you can say about me, the better,” Alec told him, standing up. “But I am here to help Jeswyne, and if that means helping you as a means to the end, so be it. Lead on the rest of the way, and take those boots off if you want to.”
Sergey stood for a second, then placed a hand on Alec’s shoulder to balance himself as he pulled off both boots. He then began walking onward, with Alec following closely behind. It was well past midnight when they arrived at the well-guarded gates of the main palace. Alec pulled the emperor into an alley across from the gate. “Let’s just watch for a minute or two to see if everything looks okay,” Alec said.
“What are you going to do when you’re safely in there?” Alec asked.
“I’m going to send a group of guards to the veranda building to secure it,” Sergey said forcefully.
“That’s good. What else? You’re not going to run scared are you? You still need to go to the tournament. Just make sure you take adequate security with you there. I’ll be there too, but not in a position to help you directly,” Alec said. “I don’t see anything amiss at your palace, so you go over and let folks know you’re still the emperor and you’re still in charge.”
Sergey stuck his hand out. “Well Jeswyne’s friend, thank you for your mysterious and valuable help. I hope we meet under better circumstances, when you can tell me more about yourself, and about Jeswyne as well.” He shook hands warmly, then walked across the street to the palace gate, and was promptly let in amidst a flurry of bows and salutes.
Alec slumped to the ground in the alley and closed his eyes to rest. He had only a few hours to go until he picked up his red robes from Scarle, after which he would go to an inn so that he could eat and rest and prepare for the tournament the following day.
He awoke a few hours later, the sunlight around him indicating that he had slept through the short remainder of the night. His neck had a crick that jangled with every move his body made as he stood up and began walking. He knew the general neighborhood he had to explore to find the Scarle compound, and began walking through the streets, an unappealing sight in his dirty and bedraggled outfit, with knives and swords providing a surly menace.
He reached the Scarle gates later than he expected to, and suffered deliberately being ignored by the guard for several seconds.
“Crebben?” he spoke at last, standing in the middle of the gateway to block any potential traffic.
“He won’t see the likes of you,” the guard mumbled. “What’s your name?”
“Healer,” Alec replied, and remained silent.
“Why don’t you move to the side while you’re waiting?” the other guard suggested.
Alec stood still, holding his spot, certain his request for Crebben would not be sent to the house if he didn’t make a nuisance of himself. The guard scowled at
Alec, who accordingly rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. “You send a message to Crebben, I’ll move,” he said.
Realizing that Alec wouldn’t be intimidated, the guard dispatched his companion, and stood inside the guard shelter, staring. Alec obediently moved aside to a spot where he could watch the guard, and waited. Minutes later the messenger guard returned and spoke briefly to his companion. “Go on in then,” the surly one told Alec and turned to avoid any further notice of him as Alec walked along the flower-lined drive.
At the door he was greeted by another guard. “Crebben?” Alec asked.
“Go in the office parlor on the left, and stay there,” the guard told Alec, who waved his thanks and strode to his assigned place. He sat in a chair that allowed him to watch the main door as well as look into a different hallway where people of the clan walked back-and-forth.
Alec gave a gasp and turned to look out the window, keeping his back to the people in the house. Limping along through the hallway, with a man on each shoulder to help him walk, was the man Alec had hamstrung the night before on the emperor’s veranda. The injured man walked past Alec’s room, and Alec only gave a sigh of relief when he heard the sound of the limp fade down the hallway.
“Healer? You look like you’ve had a rough night. What’d you do with that gold Master Kirill gave you last night?” Crebben said as he walked in with an armful of red cloth.
Alec gave his waistband a hitch and sounded a coarse laugh.
“I didn’t have you pegged as a tomcat,” Crebben gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Here are your robes for the tournament tomorrow. You need to arrive early, we’ve put you in our last spot, so you have to qualify to fight. Anything you can win is one less opponent we’ll have to deal with in later rounds.
“We could use a little cheer; things didn’t go well for the house last night, so you do your best. I’ll see you at the gate tomorrow?” he asked.
Preserving the Ingenairii Page 36
