by Cole Pain
The door behind them pushed open. Harman, the head of the castle guard, stumbled in. The gold-braided uniform marking his rank seemed out of place in the dim light. Harman drew his sword and pointed it at Aaron.
“Drop it,” he demanded.
Manda’s eyes remained locked on Alezza. “Harman, I’ve known you since I was five. Lower your sword.”
Confusion passed over Harman’s face when he saw her. His eyes flickered with joy, but his jaw clenched. He was doing his duty. He was defending the queen. Manda was about to speak when Harmon nodded. “I’m listening.”
Manda turned to Alezza. “Do you want to tell him how you forced needles into Chris’ mind, had me raped, and beat us both consistently, day after day, or should I? ”
Harman’s mouth dropped open. “But, my lady, Chris loved her very much!”
“Love?” Manda said. “Do you think he was in his right mind when he came here, Harman? No. Alezza forced those words from him and fooled you all. She’s almost succeeded in killing her new husband, and now she’s queen of half the Lands.”
The silence in the room could have shattered glass.
“Kill her, Aaron.”
Before Aaron had a chance to reply, Alezza’s eyes flickered to Chris. Chris started thrashing on the bed like the ten winds were inside him.
Aaron pushed Manda aside. When their eyes met, she knew.
“Forgive me,” he whispered, bending to kiss her cheek. “It can’t wait.” Aaron turned and plunged his black blade into Chris’ heart. Chris’ back arched. A blinding light erupted around them.
Then they disappeared.
- - -
Manda collapsed next to the bed. She didn’t understand. What had Aaron done? Where had they gone?
Manda slowly raised her head. She could still see Chris’ indention, the only indication he had been there at all.
“Not as confident now, are we my sweet?”
Manda turned to Alezza. Images of what Alezza had done to Chris came flooding back: the beatings, the needles, the pain, and the terror.
In one fluid motion Manda knocked Alezza down. Her ring – the ring of rule, the ring of Crape, the same ring Alezza now wore – tore Alezza’s jaw.
Manda wasted no time. She drew her sword and brought it over her head, surprised she felt none of her own rage, none of her own hate for the woman beneath her. As she began to bring the blade down upon the woman who had destroyed her brother she felt her inner power. Aaron had passed some of his magic into her, and now that magic screamed for justice.
She was an instrument of death, wielding the blade of verity. She may not be the Avenger, but her path was clear. She would wield her blade for righteous destruction. She would become death for those following the darkness.
Just as her blade was about to drink Alezza’s blood Harman’s weapon stopped its fall. She spun to him, righteous rage searing her core.
Harmon stepped back. “My lady, she’s carrying your brother’s child.”
Her blade, before hungry for Alezza’s blood, tumbled to the ground.
A searing pain smarted through her heart. She had almost killed her brother’s child. In a daze she heard Alezza screaming for the guards, shouting that Chris had been murdered.
Alezza rose to her feet, dark eyes flaring with animosity. A deep cut from Manda’s ring dripped blood. Alezza screamed again. Harman looked perplexed. His loyalty was with Manda, but his duty was with the new queen.
Lazo stepped beside Manda. Distant sounds of boots echoed in the stillness. Manda’s eyes flickered to Harman. It was her word against Alezza’s. She could even see the doubt in Harman’s eyes. He had seen Aaron use his sword on Chris. He had seen her try to kill her brother’s wife and child. How could she explain that?
She couldn’t.
With a sick feeling in her gut, Manda realized that even if the people believed her, Alezza would walk free. There was only one circumstance in which a woman could rule a kingdom: if the heir to the throne was a child of less than sixteen. If Alezza bore Chris’ child, Alezza could escape justice and rule Newlan for sixteen years. No matter the accusations against Alezza, her sins would be wiped free until her son was of age to rule or her daughter of age to marry.
Manda saw the truth of her thoughts in Alezza’s eyes. Alezza’s lips twisted into a victorious smile. She stepped closer, the Quy’s light shimmering around her.
Then Harman was beside Alezza, grabbing her from behind, holding the sword under her chin. He motioned to Manda. “Get out, my lady. Now.”
Lazo didn’t hesitate. He took Manda’s hand and forced her to run. Manda tried to take one last look at Harman, but they were through the door before she could meet his eyes.
As they ran down the hall guards came at them from both directions, but when she pointed to the wedding suite they passed her without question. She took the stairs two at a time, Lazo right beside her. She spotted Fraul at the entrance. He turned, gray ponytail whirling behind him, and ran to their horses. They were all mounted and galloping toward the inner ward within heartbeats. The toll of the death bell rang through the air with gruesome finality. Manda leaned into her horse and urged it faster. Horns blared, ordering the gates to be secured. Manda’s resolve deepened.
She had to live to take Chris’ child from the spider’s womb.
Manda glanced at the sun and calculated when the child would be due – late spring. She would find Alezza late spring. Then her blade wouldn’t fail.
They pounded through the inner ward without incident, but as they approached the main portcullis the gates were shut. Reining her horse to a stop, Manda grabbed the tunic of the closest guard and put a dagger under his chin.
“Are you loyal to Christopher Eric Kahn?”
The guard blinked in confusion as his eyes flickered to the men coming after them. “Of course, my lady.”
“Then listen carefully. If you’re loyal to the Kahn name you’ll open the gate and let me pass for I’m the only Kahn left. When I return none loyal to Alezza will remain. Am I clear?”
Hazel eyes stared into her soul. “My lady, I anxiously await your return.” His hand dropped the iron lever. The portcullis began to rise.
The horses were getting closer. “Your name?”
“Gren, my lady.”
“You won’t be forgotten, Gren.” Manda clicked the reins and her horse sprang into the busy city streets of Crest. When she dared to glance back, her breath caught. At least twenty soldiers followed them. Most were in Quar’s crimson but a few were in Crape’s forest green. There were too many to fight.
The people in the city were falling back, trying to move out of her path. She shouted her name, imploring the crowd for help, realizing her pleas were probably futile, but the villagers started moving their carts into the street, slowing the men pursuing them. She prayed a silent thanks to the Maker and continued down the cobblestone road. When they reached the edge of the city the streets gave way to rolling hills.
As they topped the first hill Manda slowed and turned. Only six men followed. Fraul motioned for her to continue as he dismounted to fight the onslaught of soldiers. He brandished his mace in one hand and his sword in the other. If Manda hadn’t known him she would have thought he looked the fool, standing with two weapons, facing six men on horseback, a slow grin spreading across his face. But Manda knew Fraul. The man was a trebuchet about to hurl destruction at the six soldiers riding toward them.
Manda gritted her teeth. Her sword would see blood this day. Spinning her black stallion, she rode back to Fraul and dismounted, drawing her own short sword.
Fraul looked over at her and raised his eyebrows. “Don’t try to be gallant, Manda. Get to safety. Aaron would burn me alive if anything happened to you.”
At the mention of Aaron’s name her determination built. “There’ll be worse than this, won’t there? I have to learn to fight sometime.”
Fraul studied her carefully before nodding.
Lazo stepped beside them. �
�Unless you want me to fight them with my charm you’re going to have to give me a sword.” Fraul mumbled something incoherent before tossing Lazo his blade.
Fraul drew a hidden dagger from his belt as he surveyed the coming men with stealth-gray eyes.
“I’ll take the three in the lead. They look to be taking this entire affair a little too personally. Manda, you take the one on the far left. Watch his eyes. He’ll give away his next move. Lazo, that leaves you the two on the right. The one on the inside favors his left side, meaning he leaves his right unguarded. He’ll be an easy kill. The other will be a little more difficult.”
“I don’t suppose you have time to give a quick lesson in swordsmanship?” Though Lazo spoke in jest there was a nervous edge to his voice. Manda winced, keenly aware Lazo had never held a sword.
“Lazo, maybe you should leave.”
“There’ll be worse than this, won’t there, Manda? I have to learn to fight sometime,” Lazo said, using her own words against her.
Manda turned to face the men. The lead soldier glared at them with deep fury. He was one of her father’s personal guards. Apparently he had fallen pray to Alezza’s charm. Four of the six were Alezza’s guards. Manda knew them all very well. All had taken their turn with her. The guard Fraul had assigned her was one of those. She would be incapable of missing.
Fraul twirled his mace in the air, drawing the leader’s gaze, and let his dagger fly. It impaled the man in the forehead, toppling him easily. He was dead before he hit the ground.
Fraul strode toward his next target as Lazo danced around the horses of his opponents with comic grace.
Manda stood as immovable as stone as Alezza’s guard rode toward her. When his eyes flickered down her length, he sneered. It was exactly what Manda needed to ignite her fury. As he leaned down to run her through she careened out of the way and impaled him in his back. She heard his spine break and watched the look of shock spread across his face as he spun for another pass. His legs dangled uselessly at his sides, and this time when he came at her she sliced his throat before he could counter.
She surveyed the others. Lazo darted between his two opponents, the sword looking out of place in his hands. Blood dripped down his right cheek from a near-death miss.
Fraul was laughing, apparently having a grand time with his two rivals. As she watched he swung his mace and bashed one guard’s head like a melon. Looking at her, he winked.
She grinned and ran for Lazo.
Before she could take one of the men by surprise, the other spun and shouted a warning. It was a shame it wasn’t one of Alezza’s guards. She didn’t have the fury this time, but impaled him just the same. When he fell off his horse she stood over him and looked down into his dying eyes. She felt nothing as she pierced his chest and watched the last of life leave him.
Lazo still fought, or evaded, the remaining soldier, though he had managed to unhorse the man. Fraul casually sauntered over and swung his mace into the soldier’s back. The man staggered briefly before falling to the ground.
Fraul leaned on his mace and looked at Manda. “Where in the name of the Maker did you learn to use a sword, my lady? By the fates, those men didn’t stand a chance.”
Manda grinned. “When I was young, instead of training for court, I trained for war.”
“Lances? Battle-ax?”
“No. I was always too short to wield them.”
Fraul grinned. “Not anymore. At the next town we’ll stop and purchase more supplies. I take it upon myself to teach my men, and it seems you two are my men. But let’s not tarry,” he said, glancing back down the hill. “She’ll send more after us.”
Manda suddenly realized she hadn’t thought about where they would go after she had found Chris.
Fraul saw her confused expression and smiled as he began searching the fallen men for anything of value. “We’ll travel to Oldan. Ramie needs to know what’s happening, and it appears he needs to rid Crape of some pests.”
Oldan. It sounded reasonable to her. Fraul had spoken well of Ramie Augustus, and although the king sounded a bit arrogant he was on Ren’s side. Maybe they could talk Ramie into much more than just attacking Crape. By the way Fraul’s eyes sparkled, that was his angle precisely.
Chapter 13
Galvin stared into the distance and touched his chest. He felt naked without the star sapphire, but Ren needed it. He didn’t know if the stone’s power was dead or alive, but if it was alive it may be able to save Ren.
A clear blue stone with a brilliant white star at its core, the star sapphire symbolized light in the darkness. If used by one powerful enough the stone could augment the wearer’s memories. His father believed in its strength and told him it would be his guide in times of trouble.
It had been created for one of his distant ancestors: Agamonium, king of Ketes, who had the power of the Quy. Agamonium was a benevolent king, devoted to his people and beloved by all, but the law of the land forced those with the Quy from power. Agamonium had no desire to become a wizard and hid his power for many years. When Druids came to Ketes he shunned them, feigning ill heath, and managed to evade suspicion.
When his deception was discovered, the Druids stripped him of the Quy. Agamonium lost all his memories, including any recognition of friends and relatives. He went mad and butchered nearly his entire family.
Agamonium’s distant cousin, Jeiken, traveled to an old wizard and begged the man to create something to help Agamonium regain his memories. The wizard had obliged by creating the star sapphire, but when Jeiken had returned home it was too late. After killing his family, Agamonium had killed himself.
The star sapphire had never been tested for its true purpose, but it had been handed down to each descendent of Jeiken. It served as a reminder of the family lineage.
The stone meant the world to Galvin because he wasn’t his parents’ child. They had found him abandoned when he was newly born and raised him as their own. His mother had called him her miracle because she had been unable to bear children. His father had given him the sapphire as a small child. It was the first time Galvin truly knew how much his parents loved him.
Neki turned to him with a troubled expression. “You know something about Druids, don’t you Galvin? Do you think Ren will be all right?”
Galvin was about to relay Agamonium’s story when he decided a long explanation was unnecessary. Galvin stared into the night where Ren had gone. It was almost dawn. He had been standing there for some time.
“No, I don’t think Ren will be all right.”
“Then we need to hurry,” Neki said, starting toward the graves. “Let’s bury the men and be after those damnedable Druids. I just don’t know what possessed Ren. He reacted with the sense of a toad.”
Galvin remained silent. Who was he to question the orders of the Oracle?
They worked in silence, eager to finish so they could follow the Druids. Galvin thought his haste disrespectful of Bentzen and Markum but he knew both his friends would tell them to forget the burial and follow Ren. He worked faster.
With each click of the sun his worry grew.
Without Ren the camp seemed desolate and hope seemed lost. After what seemed like days, they placed Bentzen and Markum in the earth.
When they stood before the graves the finality hit again. Bentzen was gone. Markum was gone. The kota whined beside Galvin, looking between him, the graves and the direction Ren had gone. She seemed to understand the Druid horses unearthly swiftness and hadn’t tried to follow, but if they didn’t saddle up soon the kota would leave without them. Galvin put an arm around her neck in silent reassurance. Neki began to push the mounds of sod over the bodies.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Galvin drew his broadsword and whirled to the new voice. A man with long, dark hair peered past them into the graves. His silver-gray cloak was unlike any Galvin had ever seen. Pockets and silver clasps littered its length, concealing multiple inner compartments. Beneath it, a midnig
ht-blue robe swayed with a life of its own. Silver swirls careened through its uncanny texture.
Coal black eyes holding far more knowledge than could be possible given the man’s age, looked at Galvin and winked. Reaching into one of the compartments the man brought out a handful of silver dust.
Galvin’s eyes veered to the man’s widow’s peak and pointy eyebrows.
The man flung the dust over the graves.
Markum’s eyes flew open.
“Not dead!” the One said, laughing gleefully. “Only sleeping!”
- - -
Markum opened his eyes. He felt strange. Sensing cold stone beneath him he sat up and tried to focus. It was useless. Complete darkness surrounded him. His ears rang the way they did when it was far too quiet, as if they were trying to compensate for the stillness.
The stone underneath him felt unfamiliar. He wished for a torch and almost bolted up in alarm when one appeared in his hand. It took all his energy to remain calm. Had he slipped into the unknown? He blinked at the torch, trying to rationalize its appearance.
Images of the Adderiss stole through his subconscious. He jumped to his feet and swung the torch around him, feeling the snakes on his body. And then he saw the doors, thousands upon thousands of doors.
The prophecy came back to him with crashing speed.
The dreamweaver will remain in death
When magic will choke his mind.
And he must choose only one
Door to open wide.
For if the wrong one he chooses,
The darkness will settle in
And the Chosen’s heart and soul
Will be forever cold.
Remain in death. Remain in death. His breath caught. The Adderiss had come, the snakes had encircled his body, and right before they bit he jumped.
It was the only way he knew to describe it.
He had leapt from the scene. He had never felt the snakes’ bite. He rubbed his eyes, trying to force himself to wake. He did not. Panic threatened to claim him. His chest constricted into a scream.
And then with a flash of realization he calmed.
