Mask of Swords

by Jonathan Moeller

  Earnachar swallowed, but managed a nod. Riothamus would likely not kill him. The Guardian of the Tervingi was a merciful man…but sometimes, Mazael had found, the mercy of a righteous man was more terrifying than the vengeance of an evil one.

  The armsmen led Earnachar from the hall.

  “You should have killed him,” said Sigaldra, her tone bitter.

  “Probably,” said Mazael. “But there is a war coming. This is just the beginning. Perhaps Earnachar’s punishment will be to die in battle defending Greatheart Keep from the dark powers with whom he allied himself.”

  “Then you are sure that war is coming?” said Sigaldra.

  “Entirely,” said Mazael. “The Skuldari are stirring, and I suspect the Prophetess has stirred them up.”

  “And what of my sister?” said Sigaldra. There was no pain on her face or in her voice, only tired despair. “Shall we abandon her to the Prophetess?”

  “The Prophetess has declared war upon the Grim Marches,” said Mazael. “We have not defended the Grim Marches from Malrags, runedead, and the Justiciars only to have the worshipper of a dead spider plunge us into ruin. I am going to stop her, and if I can, I will get your sister back.”

  Sigaldra stared at him for a long time, and then at last nodded.

  ###

  Greatheart Keep had survived the battle, but now it prepared for war.

  Sigaldra stood atop the keep and watched the activity in the village. Mazael had sent out the call to war, and the lords and knights and armsmen and thains of the Grim Marches would assemble and march to the west in preparation for a campaign. A hundred Jutai would accompany him as he rode west, all that Greatheart Keep could spare from the repairs and the planting. Sigaldra himself would lead them. She was the holdmistress of Greatheart Keep, and she would shoulder the responsibilities that should have belonged to the headman.

  She shivered.

  Responsibilities she had already failed.

  Her sister was gone. Sigaldra would have wept, but she had shed the last of her tears long before she had ever come to the Grim Marches. All she had left was a sorrow that had hardened to something like a frozen knife in her heart, a constant weariness…and rage.

  Plenty of rage.

  She vowed to make the Prophetess pay, to rescue Liane, or die trying.

  The trapdoor atop the tower creaked, and Sigaldra turned with a scowl. She had wanted to be alone, if only for a moment, but she could never escape her duties.

  Yet when the trapdoor opened, it was not duty that appeared, but Adalar Greatheart.

  “Lady Sigaldra?” he said. He still wore armor, though only chain mail, and had washed the grime and blood of battle from his face.

  “Lord Adalar,” said Sigaldra.

  “Ulfarna told me you were here,” said Adalar. “I wished to speak with you of two matters.”

  “Of course,” said Sigaldra.

  “First, I would like to apologize,” said Adalar.

  Of everything he could have said, she had not expected that.

  “Why?” she said at last.

  “I was too slow,” said Adalar. “I should have followed you to the keep at once. If I had come sooner, perhaps I could have stopped the Prophetess. Or if my aim had been better…”

  “No,” said Sigaldra, shaking her head. “No. You owe me no apology. You saved my life. The Prophetess would have slain me and departed, and if you had not intervened, no one would have known what had happened to Liane.” She hesitated. “And you fought with valor during the siege. Like one of the great Jutai champions of old. Without your help, Greatheart Keep might have fallen to the foe.”

  Adalar grimaced. “You are too kind.”

  Sigaldra managed a tired laugh. “I have many flaws, but a honeyed tongue is not one of them. So when I tell you something, I mean it.” She shook her head. “You fought…you fought as well as my father and brothers did, in our final stand against the Malrags.”

  “Thank you,” said Adalar.

  “I suppose you shall leave now,” said Sigaldra, “and return to Castle Dominus? You have laid your father to rest, and done rather more besides.”

  “No,” said Adalar. “That is the second matter I wish to discuss.” He looked at her. “I told you I would help you save Liane. With your permission, I would like to accompany the Jutai as the host of the Grim Marches rides against the Skuldari.”

  Again Sigaldra was surprised. “Why?”

  “Because,” said Adalar. He stared at the village for a moment. “Because the Prophetess reminds me of Lucan Mandragon, and I fear she might work some evil as dire as the Great Rising.”

  “I thought you were weary of war,” said Sigaldra, “and this is not your war.”

  “I am,” said Adalar, “but it seems that war is not weary of me.” He seemed lost for words for a moment. “And this…the Jutai deserve better. I have seen all you have done here, all you have built. Perhaps it is not my fault the Prophetess took Lady Liane. But I will help you get her back, if it is in my power.”

  For a moment Sigaldra could not speak.

  “Thank you,” she said at last.

  ###

  Adalar followed Sigaldra as she walked among her people, helping them with the work of rebuilding.

  Perhaps Adalar was not the man his father had been, but if he could find a way to help Sigaldra and the Jutai, he would.

  Epilogue: A Rigged Game

  Night fell across the western Grim Marches, and the woman who now called herself the Prophetess waited.

  She stood in a ruined church, a dozen soliphages waiting motionlessly near the windows and doors. Ruins dotted the Grim Marches, left from the Malrags and the runedead and the Tervingi barbarians. Some of them had been repopulated, but many had not, and the Prophetess had no trouble finding shelter as she made her way to Armalast.

  Liane floated near the dusty altar, her eyes closed. The venom of the soliphages would keep her unconscious and healthy for months if necessary. The girl’s Sight was powerful, and it would call like a beacon to the Guardian. It was fortunate that the Crimson Hunters had distracted the Tervingi wizard. The Prophetess was not strong enough to overcome him in magical battle.

  She smiled, rolling the sheathed maethweisyr in her palms.

  Not yet, anyway. But soon…

  A shadow fell over the church’s doors, and the Prophetess turned as Rigoric strode inside, his wounds healed. The Mask of the Champion glinted upon his face, reflecting the glow of the magical light that the Prophetess had conjured. The Mask of the Champion made Rigoric immortal and invincible, and no one could prevail against him.

  Not even the last son of the Old Demon.

  “You returned,” said the Prophetess, stepping towards him and running a hand along his armored chest.

  Rigoric said nothing. It was one of his virtues. Even before the Prophetess had found him, he had been a man of few words. The Mask had taken his power of speech, though it had given him great gifts in return. The Prophetess did not miss his ability to speak. She had other uses for him.

  Destroying the enemies of the goddess was just one of them.

  The Prophetess undid her robe and cast aside her garments, standing naked before him, save for the metallic brooch clinging to her chest just above her left breast. Rigoric removed his armor, pushed her down, and took her upon the floor as the soliphages stood guard around them. She thrilled at his touch. She had wrought this – all of it. The goddess would return, but the Prophetess was the architect of her return. She was the voice of Marazadra, and Rigoric was her Champion. It was only proper that they should lie together. The fact that Rigoric was a creature of the Prophetess’s own making made it all the sweeter.

  Much later, after they had finished, the Prophetess stood, stretched with a languid sigh, and gathered up her clothing. Rigoric armored himself in silence, though his eyes strayed to her belt.

  “This?” said the Prophetess. She held up the sheathed maethweisyr. “This is one of the reasons we came to t
he Grim Marches, my champion.”

  He tilted his head to the side.

  “Ah,” the Prophetess murmured. “You see, the Old Demon was the great enemy of our goddess. Yet he was brilliant. Subtle beyond compare. He never played his own games, no. Instead he designed the games so that no matter what happened, he was still victorious in the end. Until Mazael Cravenlock slew him, that is.”

  Rigoric seemed to tense, like a lion preparing to spring upon its prey.

  “Fear not, my champion,” said the Prophetess. “You shall have your chance to revenge yourself upon Mazael soon enough, for I suspect he shall come for us. But we already have what we need from him.”

  She smiled and drew the dagger, revealing the crimson blade, the blade that had drank Mazael’s blood and stored it up like a sponge.

  “You see?” said the Prophetess. “Even Mazael shall serve the return of the goddess. Perhaps I shall inform him of that before you kill him for me.”

  She could tell that thought pleased Rigoric.

  The Prophetess had almost everything she needed. She had Liane and the power of her Sight. She had a dagger charged with the blood of the most powerful Demonsouled yet living. Now all she needed was the Mask of Marazadra, and she could restore the goddess.

  And then the Prophetess could bring the world to order at last.

  THE END

  Thank you for reading MASK OF SWORDS Look for the second book of the MASK OF THE DEMONSOULED trilogy, MASK OF DRAGONS, to appear in 2015. If you liked the book, please consider leaving a review at your ebook site of choice. To receive immediate notification of new releases, sign up for my newsletter, or watch for news on my Facebook page.

  Other books by the author

  The Demonsouled Saga

  MAZAEL CRAVENLOCK is a wandering knight, fearless in battle and masterful with a sword.

  Yet he has a dark secret. He is Demonsouled, the son of the ancient and cruel Old Demon, and his tainted blood grants him superhuman strength and speed. Yet with the power comes terrible, inhuman rage, and Mazael must struggle to keep the fury from devouring him.

  But he dare not turn aside from the strength of his blood, for he will need it to face terrible foes.

  The priests of the San-keth plot and scheme in the shadows, pulling lords and kingdoms upon their strings. The serpent priests desire to overthrow the realms of men and enslave humanity. Unless Mazael stops them, they shall force all nations to bow before the serpent god.

  The Malrag hordes are coming, vast armies of terrible, inhuman beasts, filled with a lust for cruelty and torment. The Malrags care nothing for conquest or treasure, only slaughter. And the human realms are ripe for the harvest. Only a warrior of Mazael’s power can hope to defeat them.

  The Dominiar Order and the Justiciar Order were once noble and respected, dedicated to fighting the powers of dark magic. Now they are corrupt and cynical, and scheme only for power and glory. They will kill anyone who stands in their way.

  To defeat these foes, Mazael will need all the strength of his Demonsouled blood.

  Yet he faces a far more terrible foe.

  For centuries the Old Demon has manipulated kings and lords. Now he shall seize the power of the Demonsouled for himself, and become the a god of torment and tyranny.

  Unless Mazael can stop him.

  Read Demonsouled for free. Mazael's adventures continue in Soul of Tyrants, Soul of Serpents, Soul of Dragons, Soul of Sorcery, Soul of Skulls, and Soul of Swords, along with the short stories The Wandering Knight, The Tournament Knight, and The Dragon's Shadow. Get the first three books bundled together in Demonsouled Omnibus One.

  The Ghosts Series

  Once CAINA AMALAS was the shy daughter of a minor nobleman, content to spend her days in her father’s library.

  Then sorcery and murder and her mother’s treachery tore her life apart.

  Now she is a nightfighter of the Ghosts, an elite agent of the spies and assassins of the Emperor of Nighmar. She is a master of disguise and infiltration, of stealth and the shadows.

  And she will need all those skills to defend the Empire and stay alive.

  Corrupt lords scheme and plot in the shadows, desiring to pull down the Emperor and rule the Empire for their own profit and glory. Slave traders lurk on the fringes of the Empire, ready to seize unwary commoners and sell them into servitude in distant lands. Yet both slave traders and cruel lords must beware the Ghosts.

  The Magisterium, the Imperial brotherhood of sorcerers, believe themselves the rightful masters of the Empire. With their arcane sciences, they plan to overthrow the Empire and enslave the commoners, ruling all of mankind for their own benefit. Only the Ghosts stand in the path of their sinister plans.

  And the Moroaica, the ancient sorceress of legend and terror, waits in the shadows, preparing to launch a war upon the gods themselves. She will make the gods pay for the suffering of mankind...even if she must destroy the world to do it.

  Caina Amalas of the Ghosts opposes these mighty enemies, but the cost might be more than she can bear.

  Read Child of the Ghosts for free. Caina's adventures continue in Ghost in the Flames, Ghost in the Blood, Ghost in the Storm, Ghost in the Stone, Ghost in the Forge, Ghost in the Ashes, Ghost in the Mask, and Ghost in the Surge, along with the short stories Ghost Aria, Ghost Claws, Ghost Omens, The Fall of Kyrace, Ghost Thorns, Ghost Undying and Ghost Dagger. Get the first three books bundled together in The Ghosts Omnibus One.

  The Ghost Exile Series

  Caina Amalas was a nightfighter of the Ghosts, the spies and assassins of the Emperor of Nighmar, and through her boldness and cunning saved the Empire and the world from sorcerous annihilation.

  But the victory cost her everything.

  Now she is exiled and alone in the city of Istarinmul, far from her home and friends. Yet a centuries-old darkness now stirs in Istarinmul, eager to devour the city and the world itself.

  And Caina is the only one that stands in its way...

  Read Ghost in the Cowl, Ghost in the Maze, and Ghost in the Hunt, along with the short stories Ghost Sword, Ghost Price, and Ghost Relics

  The Third Soul

  RACHAELIS MORULAN is an Initiate of the Conclave, the powerful order of mighty mages. But to become a full Adept of the Conclave, she must first survive the Testing. Those who survive the Testing never speak of the trials they endured.

  Those who fail the Testing are never seen again.

  And now the Magisters of the Conclave have come to take Rachaelis to undertake the Testing. And there she shall face perils to both her body and her sanity.

  And creatures that yearn to devour her soul.

  If Rachaelis survives the Testing, she will face even more dangerous foes. The demons of the astral world watch the world of mortal men, desiring to rule it for themselves.

  And some Adepts of the Conclave are eager to help them.

  Read The Testing for free. Rachelis's trials continue in The Assassins, The Blood Shaman, The High Demon, The Burning Child, The Outlaw Adept, The Black Paladin, and The Tomb of Baligant. Read the entire series in The Third Soul Omnibus One and The Third Soul Omnibus Two.

  The Frostborn Series

  A thousand years ago, the last grandson of Arthur Pendragon led the survivors of Britain through a magical gate to a new world, a world of magic and high elves, of orcs and kobolds and stranger, darker creatures. Now the descendants of the exiles rule a mighty kingdom, peaceful and prosperous under the rule of the High King.

  But a shadow threatens to devour the kingdom.

  RIDMARK ARBAN was once a Swordbearer, a knight of renown. Now he is a branded outcast, stripped of his sword, and despised as a traitor.

  But he alone sees the danger to come. The Frostborn shall return, and unless they are stopped, they will cover all the world in ice and a neverending winter.

  CALLIANDE awakens in the darkness, her memories gone, and creatures of terrible power hunting her.

  For she alone holds the secret that can save
the world…or destroy it utterly.

  The secret of the Frostborn.

  Read Frostborn: The First Quest, followed by Frostborn: The Gray Knight, Frostborn: The Eightfold Knife, Frostborn: The Undying Wizard, Frostborn: The Master Thief, Frostborn: The Iron Tower, and Frostborn: The Dark Warden along with the short stories The Orc's Tale, The Mage's Tale, The Thief's Tale, The Assassin's Tale, and The Paladins's Tale.

  Mask of the Demonsouled Trilogy

  MAZAEL CRAVENLOCK has prevailed over terrible foes and now rules the Grim Marches with firm justice. Yet ancient evils are stirring in the shadows, freed at last by Mazael's own hand. Unless Mazael fights with all his strength, the world will fall.

  SIGALDRA is the last holdmistress of the Jutai nation, the final defender of her people. Now the darkness comes to devour the final remnant of Sigaldra's home and family. Even Sigaldra's courage may not be enough to turn aside the darkness.

  Read Mask of Swords along with the short story The Ransom Knight.

  The Tower of Endless Worlds

  THOMAS WYCLIFFE just wants to finish his dissertation in peace and quiet. So when a man in a black robe appears in his closet, claiming to be the last of the Warlocks, Wycliffe figures it is a bad joke.

  But he soon realizes the last of the Warlocks can give him power beyond imagining.

  And all it will cost is his soul.

  SIMON WESTER needs a job. Badly. So when a rich and powerful Senator offers him employment, he jumps at the chance. Sure, Simon expects to find some corruption, some shady deals.

  He doesn't expect to find black magic.

  LIAM MASTERE is a Knight of the Sacred Blade, defender of the mortal races. But can swords stand against guns? As bullets and bombs destroy his kingdom, Liam must risk everything to save his homeland's one chance of salvation.