JOURNEY OF THE SACRED KING II

by JANRAE FRANK

  A man came at Josiah with a knife. He pivoted, caught the man's wrist with a twist, and broke his arm at the elbow across his knee: Josiah Abelard started out in life as a battlemage and that was where Josh's uncanny ability with weapons came from. He had been accessing Josiah even then, though he had not known it. Josiah wondered as he fought if he and Josh would ever merge completely as two incarnations of the same mon should or if it would take another death and rebirth to achieve the successful merging of the two halves of himself. He hoped fervently for the former, because they desperately needed each other, needed to have no more shifting back and forth in either half or complete awareness. He stomped the fallen man across the back of the neck, killing him.

  Nearby a serving woman screamed in shrill terror as a man slammed her into a wall and jerked her bodice open. Josiah yanked him back, summoned fire and smeared it across his eyes, blinding her assailant, then dropped him with a knee to his crotch: they could pick that one up later for questioning if no one killed him first. Worry for Aejys slid across his mind and he pushed it back so that it would not slow him down. Josiah intended to show Cedarbird the full fury of an enraged battlemage. Josh's consciousness would not be able to contain him.

  Skree, with the tremendous strength of his race, lifted a large mon into the air and brought him down across his knee, shattering his back, then dropped him. A shrill, ululating war cry rose from his throat as he spun into the assailants: like Josiah he had not survived by his magic alone. After spending months in the Cock and Boar while Taun tended to Aejys' liegemyn, he knew who belonged and who did not. Skree's and Josiah's eyes met across the melee for just an instant, saying to each other silently "anything you can do I can do better," and then they moved on.

  Josiah spied a beset caravan guard; saw one of his two assailants cut him. None of the guards had brought their weapons, they were wintering, not working, and clearly no one had expected to need them in the tavern. The guard clutched his side, kicking at the mon. The second assailant brought a club at his head, but the guard twisted and took it on his shoulder instead. The force was enough to send the mon to his knees. Josiah seized the knife wielder's wrist, breaking it with a snap. He caught the blade as it fell and shoved it in hard just under the breastbone. The tough cried out in pain and collapsed, dying. Josiah pivoted, kicking the second tough in the face twice, then the stomach, and then the face again. The man dropped the club. Josiah lunged, driving two fingers into the man's chest stopping his heart. Josiah offered the caravan guard a hand up. "You be okay?"

  "Yeah. I been cut worse."

  "Good mon."

  The kitchen staff emerged with cleavers and knives in hand and pots on their heads as helmets, wading in with savage ferocity. Josiah shook his head, if their attackers had been soldiers instead of a local gang of toughs, the staff would not have had a chance. As it was they would have their hands full. But he admired their courage: Aejys picked good people. It was not Becca's fault that she had been taken in by Arlethan while he and Aejys were away.

  The side door near the stables opened and the rest of the wintering guards rushed in with drawn swords deciding the bloody contest in Aejys' favor.

  * * * *

  No one saw Dinger slip up the stairs, heading for Aejys' rooms to be certain of his handiwork. He missed Josiah's entrance in the confusion and did not yet know he had failed to kill him. His eyes no longer looked even vaguely human, having gone completely dark amaranthine and without whites, iris or pupil. The diminutive sa'necari was tired of posing. Once this day's work was done he intended to inform Cedarbird of who was truly the master and who the servant. From this day on Vorgensburg would belong to Prince Mephistis through his loving servant Dingarim. Dingarim planned to send Aejys to him as a gift, knowing how Mephistis longed to take the mortgiefan from her.

  Dingarim peered around the door and saw only Taun, the wussy healer, with Aejys. They were still huddled on the floor with Aejys' head lying back against his shoulder, looking very, very pale. There was no sign of Josiah. He had arrived, fully expecting to see the mage lying dead upon the floor – that disappointed Dinger; he had been so certain Josiah would fetch the books. Clearly the serpent had gotten her instead. Apparently the famed Sharani resistance had failed her. Which was, after all, to be expected: taking out Sharani was the ultimate purpose behind his development of these genetically altered vipers. Eventually he would have a breeding colony of them to release in Shaurone. No matter. He would find other gifts for his master after he had finished with the little nerien. It would take a stronger death to cure Mephistis' deijanzael. Perhaps one of the seafolk.

  Taun laid Aejys gently aside and got to his feet. She had lost consciousness moments before. Had she been fully recovered before the attack she no doubt could have fought it off, but clearly Cedarbird knew better than to allow Aejys to regain her strength before making his move. Taun glared at the small man, certain that he was a match for the withered monk until he saw Dinger's eyes. He sniffed and for the first time in his life recognized what Skree had always described to him: "Sa'necari!" he hissed.

  "You recognize me," the small withered sa'necari smiled, exposing his fangs. "The others are all dead. Now it is your turn." He circled Taun.

  Taun dropped into a crouch, hands stretched to either side, regretting that he had never gotten beyond the basics with Skree. But then the sa'necari would probably attack with magic and it did not matter whether or not he could fight.

  "I've never tasted nerien blood before. I'm certain it will be interesting."

  He could hear the sounds of battle dying down; he did not know if Skree had fallen or not, but defiance woke in Taun's heart. "Do it, if you can, fucking death-eater."

  "I will," Dingarim replied, his mind's power leaping into Taun's to capture his will.

  Taun screamed, doubling over, clutching at his head. He focused his rage into a line with his psychic gifts, shoving the sa'necari out, staggering as he came free.

  "Impressive. But not enough." The sa'necari caught Taun by the throat before he could straighten, throwing him to the ground. He sprang atop him, pinning him, his breath hot and putrid in Taun's face. The nerien was strong for his size – as all the seafolk were – but the sa'necari, with all the powers of the undead, was stronger. Dingarim bent his face, his fangs just pricking the skin of Taun's throat when a heavy weight slammed into his head, knocking consciousness from him.

  Becca kicked the sa'necari off Taun. "Asshole! Did you really think I'd leave them alone with you downstairs?" She had been hiding behind the door waiting for the right opportunity.

  "That was cutting it a little close, Becca."

  "Maybe. But face-to-face he could have taken us both out. No sweat."

  Taun touched his throat, coming away with a small crimson stain and wincing at the sight. The nerien touched Dinger, Read him quickly. He grimaced distastefully, wiping his fingers on the sa'necari's robes. "Tie him up. Gag him." While Becca took care of that with pieces of curtain she tore down, he crawled over to Aejys again and found her still breathing. "Help me get her to bed."

  "Will she be all right?"

  "I don't know. I just don't know." His voice was filled with so much anguish and desperation that it made Becca's throat tighten.

  Together they got her moved.

  The sound of steps on the stairs in the suddenly noticeable silence caused them both to freeze for an instant, and then Becca retrieved the heavy book and took up her post behind the door again. Taun spied an old saber on the wall for the first time, taking it down.

  "Know how to use it?"

  Taun shook his head.

  "Then lose it. Get something you can handle like a chair."

  Taun grabbed a small chair from the parlor, and joined Becca, pressing himself against the wall near her. The footsteps entered first the parlor looking about, then the bedroom. Taun, edgy now from getting bitten, however slightly, sprang out and swung before he looked, connecting solidly with Skree and decking the huge
triton. The chair splintered.

  Skree hit the floor hard and rolled to face his opponent. Seeing only Taun with the remains of the chair and Becca with the book, he smiled ruefully. "Discovered how to fight, little seal?"

  "I am sorry, Skree. I did not know..."

  Taun dropped to his knees, touching Skree's face. Skree pulled Taun into his arms and kissed him thoroughly, then his eyes widened as he saw, over Taun's shoulder, the tied and gagged sa'necari propped in the corner under the window. He pulled back, setting Taun aside. "You did this?"

  "Becca did it."

  "No," Becca corrected. "We did it together."

  "Well! You have finally learned how to fight. And bringing down a sa'necari? Impressive, little seal."

  Taun's cheeks flushed a pretty brown.

  "They need you downstairs now. There are many wounded. When you are done here, you need to go to the winter quarters. Branch and Bluewings are there. Ash is with them. The sa'necari hit them first. Their people are all dead, including Ash's four brothers."

  A look of horror passed over Taun and Becca's faces.

  "Go on, Taun. Now. They need you downstairs."

  Taun nodded and left.

  Skree took the chair nearest the bed and leaned forward, regarding Aejys' face thoughtfully. "What a brave one you are, Aejystrys Rowan. A long way from well and already risking yourself for my Josiah. Perhaps you should not have trusted so heavily on your people's genetic heritage in this. You must have known you were taking a grave risk." He placed his long fingers lightly over the pulse spot in her throat, Reading her from there. After a moment he raised his eyes to Becca's with relief mirrored in their depths. "She's taken a setback, but her body is already fighting back."

  "Then she will be all right?"

  Skree nodded. "I believe so. But I will stay here tonight and watch her. Tomorrow I will take every able bodied man you have left and any of your women who can or wish to fight and we will drag Cedarbird out of his hole."

  "You think that is wise?"

  "Look to your survivors," Skree snarled in a sudden rush of anger, "and your dead downstairs. Tell me then what is wise. Ask Branch and Bluewings what is wise."

  Becca shuddered.

  "Aejys will not be in any shape to command for several days. You are not a warleader. I will be so in your place and hers," he nodded at Aejys, "until she can be again."

  Becca could not argue with that, so she gave him a nod and left.

  Skree rose, going to stand over the still unconscious Dingarim. "Aejys wants you questioned and so you shall be. But first I will bind your magics." He pulled an obsidian blade from his belt, slitting the sa'necari's garments so he could place his fingers over each shaukra as he worked. He sheathed the blade, starting with the shaukra in Dinger's forehead, then moved down as he summoned the sea-magics and cut the connections between the power and the deathmage's will. The work was nearly complete when the sa'necari's eyes opened, realizing in horror what was being done to him. He struggled in his bonds but could not get loose. Skree simply pinned him to the floor with a casually pressed knee to his chest.

  "I am so glad you are awake. It is more enjoyable that way. It gladdens my heart to give you what you gave to those mage-children, especially my godson Josiah Stormbird."

  Dingarim's eyes widened at the name and he started to shake.

  Skree frowned with a sudden suspicion. The triton leaned closer, taking a strong sniff. There, under the nearly overpowering stench of sa'necari, was the same scent he had caught on Tori's dead body. "You killed them, didn't you? Didn't you? The landsmage and the village on the island ... the easternmost island in the Neridians?" Skree shook with rage and grief, he threw his head back, howling like something gone mad again and again and again.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  AFTERMATH

  Becca had never been in a battle or a war, but as soon as she stepped into the common room she knew what the aftermath would look like. The room had been cleared of broken furniture, which included nearly all the chairs. The dead lay along the west wall on the floor. Three wounded lay on the surviving tables. A woman with familiar golden curls lay on one table with Taun working over her. He shook his head sadly and unstoppered a vial of violet powder, which he then administered by rubbing it in her nostrils and gums. Becca recognized pollendine when she saw it, a painkiller so strong and potentially addictive it was only administered to the dying. Becca moved to his side and looked down into Molly's face now stained with violet. Her eyes met Taun's and he shook his head: Molly, who had cared so diligently for Aejys in those first few weeks, was dying.

  When Molly saw her, she lifted one hand weakly to Becca. Becca grasped it gently in both of hers, trying not to stare at the multiple spreading splotches of blood on the mon's stomach and chest. "Lord Aejys?" Molly whispered, too weak to speak louder.

  "Just fine, Molly. Just fine. Sa'necari came up after her, but I laid him out with a book."

  "That's good. That's real good." Molly closed her eyes and her hand went limp in Becca's grip.

  Becca folded Molly's hands over her chest, bent, and kissed her forehead. "You were a fine mon." Abruptly, she grabbed Molly and buried her face in the golden curls with a small sob. Everything that had happened seemed to close in around her and she could feel herself losing it completely. Large hands gripped her shoulders, lifting her gently away from Molly's body. Becca looked up into Raim's dark eyes and reined herself in tightly, smearing the tears with the back of her hand.

  "I know how you feel, Becca," he said, "but let her go. We need to move her. Make room for another wounded."

  "What can I do? I don't know what to do." A short, tight sob came into her voice as she spoke.

  "Nothing. There are plenty of us who've been there and know and can. Just sit on the stairs over there." Raim's voice was patient and gentle, but firm. He and Omer had that kind of easygoing relationship with Becca that allowed them to tell her when she was in over her head. In fact she expected it of them and right then she was only too happy to listen.

  Becca sat down on the third step, leaning against the railing, desperately wishing she were not there to watch and yet unable to pull her eyes away.

  "Not much we can do either," piped a small voice. Fezelbaum doffed his tiny cloak of invisibility and leaned through the railing, his head almost touching her nose. He was a queer looking little mon, wizen and gaunt, all angles. The current captain of pixie bouncers had spots of blood on his tunic. When he saw her staring at them he added quickly, "Not mine. Not a bit."

  "Good, the last thing I want is to lose a single one of my bouncers."

  Fezelbaum beamed at that. "Can you think of something we could do? I mean we, my myn and I, are too small for the clean up, or wound tending of large folk."

  An evil glint entered Becca's eyes. "Actually you can. This is Thomas Cedarbird's doing. He hired a sa'necari to lead this attack. How he found one in Vorgensburg I don't know. Taun and I took him out. He's tied up. Skree's got him now. Tomorrow Skree will take the war to Cedarbird, but tonight a little payback would be very nice. Say, some spying and dirty tricks?"

  "Oh, we're great at that stuff. We'll soften him up good. Anything else?"

  Becca thought for a moment. They might need more proof against Thomas Cedarbird. This should not be simply a military reprisal and coup. There was still going to be politics involved somewhere especially with the guild masters and syndics. Cedarbird had a wussy little amanuensis named Darlbret who probably knew everything or nearly everything that was going on. It would not take much to either break him or bring him over once he knew that Cedarbird was going down. If he did not know about the sa'necari, then showing him should be quite effective. "I want a captive and I want him before morning. If I'm sleeping by then wake me when you have him."

  "Who?"

  "Darlbret."

  Fezelbaum snickered. "You have a devious mind, Becca. I like it."

  Becca smiled thinly. "Do I get him?"

  "Sure. C
an do. We fight the good fight."

  "Then go get him."

  Fezelbaum flickered out, then back again. "Aejys. Is it true about the viper?"

  "Yeah. They hit her first – as a distraction as much as to take out our leader, I suspect."

  Fezelbaum looked very serious then. "We got hit bad, didn't we?"

  "What do you think?" Becca gestured at the room. "Tomorrow Skree and Josh will hit them far worse."

  "Didn't know Josh could fight like that. Should've expected it seeing what he did to that duelist last summer. Expected it from a triton, though. I'll miss Molly," he added, and then flickered out again to rally his cohort of pixies.

  * * * *

  Becca leaned against the railing again. She would probably be better off to go up to her office and read. She had finally shaken herself loose, starting up the stairs when a long blood-curdling howl erupted from Aejys' rooms. "Ohmigods! Aejys." She ran up the stairs, scarcely noticing that Josiah and Omer, the big-red-headed driver, were right behind her.

  She found Skree shaking the little sa'necari like a rag doll and howling. She flung herself onto Skree's arm, trying vainly to halt him. "Stop! Stop. You'll kill him."

  "He should die!"

  "We need to question him first," Josiah said, placing a hand on Skree's arm.

  "He killed your parents. He killed Tori and Merann."

  Josiah looked suddenly very sad. "Put him down, please, godfather. I want to question him."

  Skree threw the sa'necari in the corner and stood over him, glaring.

  Josiah walked over to the table in the parlor where he had left the Dragonsbreath, took two more swigs from the bottle then returned, squatting down beside Dinger. "You know who I am?"

  The sa'necari kept glancing at Skree as he answered, clearly in terror of the triton. "Josiah Abelard. Ever since that idiot god and her Badree Nym ransacked those soul vaults in Waejontor, we've been expecting you – trying to stomp out your lineage so you couldn't come back. The serpent was for you. Not Aejystrys. I knew you would be the one to fetch the books. I was supposed to take out the mages so my master could kill her through the link. Deijanzael is killing him."