Chapter 3
“What do you mean there’s another Reishi?” Alexander asked.
Alexander stood a few inches taller than six feet. He was well built and strong from working on the range. He had handsome features and light brown hair cut to medium length. His most striking feature was his eyes. He had his father’s eyes, only more so. They were soft brown with flecks of gold in the irises that glittered when he got angry.
They were glittering now.
The prisoner looked furtively at Anatoly standing behind Alexander before answering. “There’s an obelisk on one of the islands of Tyr. Prince Phane Reishi is inside … for now, anyway,” he said with a nervous titter.
“For now?” Alexander asked.
“The obelisk came alive a month ago, all swirls and lights floating around on its surface. The old scrolls say that means Prince Phane will come out of his long sleep very soon.” The prisoner believed what he was saying. Alexander was sure of it.
He frowned while he thought about his next question. Abigail and his parents were standing behind him, beside Anatoly.
The air grew strangely still. Alexander felt every hair on his body stand on end just before a magical shockwave passed through the room. Awareness of Phane flooded into everyone’s mind. They all stood mute, looking at each other for confirmation of what they had just experienced.
A moment later, Alexander felt a sudden burning on the right side of his neck. For all the world, it felt like he was being branded with a hot iron. He cried out and stumbled backward trying to escape the shocking pain. It lasted for only a moment, but it was blinding in its intensity.
Alexander found himself sitting on the floor gasping, his hand pressed tightly over the side of his neck, and his family standing over him looking worried.
“Let me see.” Bella’s voice was strong but forlorn. He looked up at his mother blankly, still shaken by the sudden pain and stunned with confusion about its source. She looked back as if to say “Well?”
Alexander removed his bloody hand. There, on the right side of his neck, was the ancient glyph of the House of Reishi branded by fire into his flesh. The wound was still fresh. Bright red blood was smeared around the burn where he’d pressed his hand. It hurt.
Alexander was marked.
The ancient story of the curse was true. Bella Valentine’s face went shock white. She stood straight and looked at her husband. Each was a mirror of the other’s feelings. Anguish, fear for their son, and iron resolve. The time was here. The curse had been invoked.
“Alexander, we need to talk about this. Let’s go upstairs,” Duncan said as he helped his son to his feet.
When Alexander came close to the bars of the cell, the prisoner lunged with a sharp piece of wood he’d splintered off the leg of the bed. Duncan and Alexander were unaware, but Anatoly was watching closely. He was prepared. He had a short sword in hand.
“Death to the Marked One!” the prisoner cried out as he lunged.
Anatoly shouldered Alexander aside and thrust with his sword. He caught the prisoner straight in the middle of the chest and stopped him cold. They stood looking each other in the eye.
“I’ve failed … oh, no.”
Anatoly saw a look of panic as the light faded from the assassin’s eyes. He fell off the end of Anatoly’s sword and was dead when he hit the ground.
“Anatoly, increase security and tell the stableman to have horses ready for everyone at dawn.” Duncan Valentine always knew this day was possible but he never actually believed it would come. It had been two thousand years since the end of the Reishi War. His father had told him the story of the curse as he lay on his deathbed. Now the curse had been invoked and his son knew nothing of his destiny. He looked hard at Alexander with love and hope.
Duncan put his hand on Alexander’s shoulder. “My son, I have much to tell you.”
Anatoly returned from issuing his orders, cleaning his blade off as he entered the room. “Duncan, let’s have this conversation in your hall. It’s more easily defended and I suspect Alexander will want a glass of wine or two by the time you’re done.”
They made their way to the great hall of Valentine Manor. It was a huge central gathering room capable of accommodating a hundred people or more. The ceilings were vaulted and soared thirty feet into the air. The windows were high on the walls and too narrow for a man to fit through easily. The long room was lighted by three enchanted chandeliers that magically glowed on command, prized possessions of the Valentine household.
In the center of the room was a polished oak table stretching the length of the hall, with cushioned chairs all around. Everyone who mattered most to Alexander was at the table … everyone except Darius. His head was swimming and the pain of the burn on his neck was still distracting. He sat with one hand on his neck and the other on his forehead. His eyes were closed and he was still a bit stunned by all that had happened.
His mother handed him a cool damp cloth for his burn. He took it with a forced smile.
Darius was dead.
It didn’t seem real. Every time he tried to face it, he felt an abyss of pain rise up from the pit of his stomach and threaten to claim his sanity. He simply could not make his mind comprehend a world without his big brother in it. How could such a thing be possible?
He’d felt the warning spell wash over him. He knew without question that Phane Reishi was walking the world again. He couldn’t explain how he knew, but that didn’t change his certainty. He also knew that Prince Phane would not stop until he ruled the entire Seven Isles. All of the dark stories of the last Reishi Sovereign and his sadistic son now seemed real. Until now, they’d been nothing but bedtime stories used to frighten unruly children into sleeping quietly at night.
And then there was the issue of the burn on his neck. Everything about it was unsettling, but especially the timing. He had been burned, marked with the glyph of the Reishi, only a moment after the warning spell had washed over him. The spell that had just warned the whole world about the coming of Prince Phane had marked him.
Alexander didn’t know the significance of that but it worried him greatly.
Duncan sat at the head of the table, Alexander to his right with Abigail next to him. His mother, Bella, sat across from him at his father’s left. Lucky sat next to her.
Alexander looked up as Anatoly came to the table and took the chair next to Lucky. “The room is secured. I barred every door myself and posted a man outside each entrance. Horses and a fast wagon are being prepared. Your traveling gear is being made ready as well.” Anatoly was a soldier before all other things. He was in his element in a way that Alexander had never actually seen before. He had a certainty of purpose about him that projected an almost infectious confidence.
“Thank you, Anatoly.” Duncan took a deep breath.
“Listen well, Alexander, there may not be much time.” Duncan was all business in spite of his red and swollen eyes.
Bella sat still and straight, her face etched with pain and purpose. Abigail hadn’t stopped crying since Darius died. She took Alexander’s hand under the table. He returned a reassuring squeeze and gave her a quick look.
“This is the story your grandfather told me in the last hours of his life.” Duncan paused for a moment to let the words sink in before continuing. “Two thousand years ago, at the end of the Reishi War, Prince Phane Reishi cast a spell of desperation. His family had been defeated, the Reishi Isle was overrun and he knew the castle would not hold. So he fled. He hid himself inside a magic obelisk located somewhere on one of the islands of Tyr. Within the obelisk, no time would pass, allowing Phane to escape justice and flee into the future.”
Duncan stopped as Alexander began shaking his head. “What does any of this have to do with me?” He was exhausted. Nothing made any sense.
“Be patient, Son,” Duncan said quietly. “The Rebel Mage discovered Phane’s obelisk and tried to destroy it but failed. He realized that when Phane woke, the world would be totally unprepared for his pow
er and ambition, so the Rebel Mage placed a magic circle around the obelisk to warn the future, to warn us. That magic circle was what we just felt. The Rebel Mage’s magic circle warned everyone alive that Phane Reishi walks the Seven Isles again.”
Alexander interrupted again, “That still doesn’t explain the burn on my neck.”
“No. The burn on your neck is the result of a curse.” Duncan stared at Alexander for a moment to emphasize his words but spoke again before Alexander could object.
“The story my father told me says that an ancient bloodline was cursed. Our bloodline. We have remained hidden for centuries to protect our line for this day. The Rebel Mage feared that the Reishi Protectorate would discover his curse and eliminate our entire line, so our family went into hiding many centuries ago. The story says that the eldest son of our line would be marked when the Arch Mage Prince awakes. You’ve been marked, Alexander. It’s no longer just a story.”
Alexander sat slack-jawed and looked at his father. Abigail’s hand tightened around his.
“You are the one marked by the Rebel Mage. The old story says that you must defeat Prince Phane or the world will fall into darkness and tyranny for a thousand years.” The calm, quiet pronouncement fell like a sentence on his life.
He was cursed.
Who was he to even think about picking a fight with an arch mage? He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t even want to be heir to Valentine Manor. He just wanted to live his life.
He started laughing without any humor at all, then stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over. “This is crazy.” He walked several steps from the table, running his hands through his hair and then stopped in front of a mirror hanging on one wall of the great hall. He hadn’t actually seen the mark on his neck yet. When he looked at it for the first time, his blood ran cold as ice. It was the ancient Glyph of the House of Reishi. He’d seen it in history books from his father’s library, but to see it burned into his flesh was a shock.
“None of this can be happening,” he said while running his hand through his soft brown hair.
Anatoly stood and said, “My Lord.”
Alexander whirled on him. “What did you just call me?” The world of sanity was spinning dangerously out of control. Anatoly had helped raise Alexander. He’d been his friend, mentor and protector for Alexander’s whole life. And now he was calling him, “My Lord.”
“My Lord,” Anatoly said deliberately and looked firmly at Alexander in the way he always did when he wanted to drive home an important point in a lesson.
“Anatoly, I am not ‘Your Lord’ so stop calling me that. I’m Alexander, nothing more.” He was getting angry. Nothing about this day made any sense. He shook his head, turned and left the room.
Bella looked to Abigail and motioned for her to follow after her brother. “Give him some time, Anatoly,” she said. “He’ll come to understand his responsibility.”
Anatoly sat back down. “We may not have time,” he said flatly. “The assassin that killed Darius was sent to kill the Marked One. The Reishi Protectorate knew Darius would be marked by the curse. He represented a threat to their charge. What do you think they’re going to do when they find out Alexander bears the Mark?”
“We should leave in the morning at the latest.” Lucky sounded resolute and forlorn at the same time. He relished the comforts of home and the cooking of his own kitchen, but he was loyal without fault and he knew the peril they now faced.
“Agreed,” Duncan said as he took his wife’s hand. She nodded. “We’ll make for Glen Morillian. The Rangers will swear loyalty to Alexander on the strength of the brand on his neck alone. They’ve been waiting for him for millennia. He’ll be safer there than anywhere.”
The second part of the legend was the Rangers. They had been created by the Rebel Mage as well. Their purpose was to serve as protectors of the bloodline until this day arrived, then to serve the Marked One in his quest to preserve the Seven Isles from the ambition of Prince Phane. Anatoly was a Ranger.
He nodded, “I’ll send word to the Forest Warden and the Wizards Guild in New Ruatha.” He started for the door. “My birds will make better time than any horse and have far less chance of being intercepted.”
“I’ll prepare what potions I can for travel and store the rest,” Lucky said as he stood to leave.
Bella caught his hand briefly. “Lucky, would you look in on the children before you attend to your lab?”
“Of course,” he said.
“It’s been a long time since I wore my armor. I hope it still fits.” Duncan tried to smile at his wife but it faded too quickly.
“We’d best get ready,” Bella said with a mixture of sadness and resolve.
Duncan took her hand. “He’s strong. The Old Rebel Wizard chose well.” He squeezed her hand to get her to look up at him. He hated the pain he saw in her eyes; it made his chest hurt. What he had to say didn’t help matters.
“Phane is loose on the world. Our son is marked. All we can do now is support him and guide him with all we have.” He held her eyes with his commanding gaze until she nodded acceptance of the world as it was.
They had the kind of relationship that often involved complicated and esoteric discussions. One topic of interest was people’s propensity to see the world as they wished it to be, rather than as it actually was. Bella and Duncan both emphatically agreed that reason depended on accurate facts. And accurate facts only came from an honest and unbiased assessment of the situation. Deal in what is, not what if.
She was tough. He knew that better than anyone. They were holding hands as they left the great hall.
Thinblade (Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book One) Page 3
