"But you won't be controlled most of the time," Uncle Theo said. "Using the seal like that takes a lot of energy, even for someone like Emperor Warrick. So he uses it only in the most important situations. Most of the time, you'll be free to make your own decisions. You don't have to become a bad person just because you're an Imperial Guard."
Markus clenched his fists, struggling to remain calm. "You don't understand. I can't be part of an organization that goes against everything I stand for. I can't put myself in a situation where I might end up killing people. That's wrong, and you know it."
"I still don't know where you got these ideas, Markus. There's no point hoping for a better world. Warrick is all we have. To oppose him is suicide."
"I guess you didn't control me enough," Markus said. "Even with all your restrictions, I met people like Rik. And I knew you were always lying to me. If there was one thing I didn't want, it was to turn out like you."
That had come out a bit harsher than he'd intended, but his uncle deserved it.
Uncle Theo scratched at his thick brown beard, his eyes hard. "Look. I'm not proud of what I did, but when the Imperial Guards spared me and my brother, they made me serve them, made us keep the secret about the barrier. Jaden could even live a normal life. Of course, he always hated that I'd chosen to serve the people who killed our parents. I understood how he felt, but I did it to protect him. I did what I had to do, and that's what you'll do if you know what's good for you."
Markus could sense his uncle's simmering anger. Normally, that would have terrified Markus, but he was past caring what his uncle thought. If his uncle wanted to hurt him, he would fight back.
"I won't do it," Markus said. "I'm not changing my mind. I have no one to protect. I accepted long ago that I might die trying to escape the Empire. Now I'll just have to die refusing to serve evil. What's the difference, really?"
"Don't be so quick to assume they have nothing to hold over you. If you refuse them, they might threaten Rik."
"They won't," Markus said. "Warrick wants him alive."
"And how do you know that?"
Markus told Uncle Theo everything that had happened on the mountain, including how he'd healed Rik and the conversation he'd overheard.
"Interesting," Uncle Theo said. "I always knew Warrick wanted you for some reason, but I didn't know that he needed Rik alive as well. That makes no sense." He shook his head. "Then again, who am I to understand the ways of a sorcerer like Warrick?"
"What about the healing?" Markus asked. "Doesn't that surprise you?"
"Honestly, it doesn't. I figured there had to be something special about you if Warrick wanted you so badly." He bit his lower lip, as though he wanted to say something more, but then he closed his mouth and looked away.
Markus didn't press the issue. He'd always suspected his uncle knew something about the way his parents died, but his uncle had never offered to share that information, and probably never would.
Uncle Theo sighed. "I'm not gonna convince you to change your mind, am I?"
"No, I'm set on my decision." Markus rose from the chair. "I'm glad to see you again, but I have to leave. The sooner, the better. Goodbye, Uncle Theo."
Markus felt a twinge of regret about leaving his uncle. The man had revealed a different side of himself, a softer side. Markus almost felt sorry for the sacrifices his uncle had made. But that was all the more reason to leave now.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm still not sure."
Chapter 15: The Raid
Nadia tapped her right foot, waiting for the Order meeting to begin, listening to the low murmur of tense voices. She had her eye on the unfamiliar people in the back, trying to keep them from noticing her gaze.
At last, Carlos emerged from a side room, strode to the makeshift podium at the front of the room, then waited for everyone to stop talking, tapping his fingers on the podium. "I'm glad to see we have such good attendance. Tonight, we're going to discuss the threat Imperial Guards pose to our city. We've received intelligence that something big is planned for Crayden, and we need to prepare for all eventualities."
Nadia glanced back to see that the unfamiliar men still stood there, blending in with the crowd but whispering to each other.
Graig Richardson, a prominent local merchant, raised a hand to get Carlos's attention. "Do we have any idea what this threat might be? How can we act on something for which we have no specifics?"
"Relax, Graig," Carlos said. "I understand your frustration, but this meeting is an important chance to prepare. In all likelihood, Warrick will probably grant his Imperial Guards magic. To combat that, we'll need someone like Ander."
Ander gripped his staff. "I'll be ready."
Nadia appreciated the gesture, but one staff would not win a battle. They needed a better plan.
"And we'll need people like you as well," Carlos said, pointing to Captain Davis of the Crayden town guard, a bearded man Nadia knew, but not all that well.
"I'll do my best to protect the people," he said. "If the Imperial Guards threaten our citizens, I will gladly break my vow to support Warrick. Hell, I've all but broken it already."
That got a few laughs from the crowd, though there was too much tension in the air for anyone to feel truly humorous.
Nadia sneaked another glance toward the back of the room, where she thought she'd heard the door click. The unfamiliar men had all left. If only one or two of them had left, she wouldn't have thought much of it, but this made them look like definite imperial spies.
An Imperial Guard raid was coming.
Nadia raised a trembling hand.
It took Carlos a while to notice her. "Yes, Nadia? Do you have something to add?"
"I think we're being watched. I saw a few men in the back that I didn't recognize, and once they saw the nature of the meeting, they left. I think they might be calling Imperial Guards. We have to leave."
Carlos stroked his short black beard. "You have a point, Nadia. We must be careful. I suggest we all leave by way of the cellar. It's through that door to my right, and then you take a left. There's an exit at the other side. Let's remain calm. First row, if you would?"
The first row rose in an orderly fashion, then filed into the cellar. Kara, Ander, and Aric were among the first. Stomach churning, Nadia watched as the second row followed. Carlos swayed back and forth at the podium.
At last, the third row stood up and slipped into the cellar. Nadia, at the end of the row, stopped beside Carlos. "Aren't you coming?"
"I'll be right behind you three."
"Get into the cellar, Nadia," Varek said, nudging her forward. At that moment, nearly a dozen Imperial Guards burst through the door. Her heart leapt, and she stood frozen.
"You are all under arrest," said one of the Imperial Guards, leading the charge. All the guardsmen rushed into the room, knocking wooden chairs aside.
"We'll hold them off," Varek said. "Get away from here."
Varek and Len stepped forward, unsheathing their swords, but they wouldn't last long against such numbers. Two of the Imperial Guards engaged them while the rest marched toward Carlos and Nadia.
All she had was her bow. She might manage to kill one or two, but that wouldn't help. Heart pounding, she raced through the door, then down the corridor leading to the cellar. Before she knew it, she'd reached the stairs. Voices sounded from behind.
She hated herself for running, but what choice did she have?
"You've been witnessed hosting an Order meeting," said one Imperial Guard. "You are under arrest for your crimes."
She couldn't hear Carlos's response, only the clinking of swords. Someone let out a scream, probably Varek or Len. As she reached the bottom of the steps, she cursed herself for not heeding her intuition. If she hadn't gone to this meeting, Varek and Len would still be alive.
No. She couldn't think like that. She continued farther into the cellar, colliding with a shelf and sending a large stone pot tumbling to the floor. It shattered,
and the sound echoed.
"Someone's down there. I'm checking it out."
"We have the leader. The rest aren't all that important."
"It won't take long."
She raced farther into the dark cellar, guided by instinct. The others must have taken the torches. Echoing footsteps sounded behind her, steel against stone. With every passing moment, her throat felt tighter, panic igniting in her chest. Where could she go? The cellar felt like a maze.
"You ain't getting away," said the Imperial Guard.
She reached a place where the path branched in three directions, and chose to go straight. Her stomach twisted into tighter knots, adrenaline shooting like wildfire through her veins.
She couldn't turn around now with the man so close. Maybe if she remained silent, she could elude him. Panicked, she groped her way along the walls. Those steel-booted steps sounded closer and closer.
Despite the darkness, she hastened her pace—a big mistake, for she collided with another shelf. Dozens of pots and vases hit the floor with the loudest series of crashes she'd ever heard.
"You can't run forever."
She froze, unable to see anything in the darkness. More echoing steps. Her pursuer's heavy breathing. Through the veil of darkness, she caught his movement. Her chest seized, and she backed away, praying that God would save her. She had no chance of hitting her pursuer with an arrow in the dark.
If she could just make a sound somewhere and get his attention, she could return the way she had come. Breathing heavily, she picked up a small pot and threw it hard against the nearest wall. It shattered with a sharp crack, and his footsteps quickened.
She ducked around the other side of the shelf, then ran with her hand along the wall, straining her eyes so she wouldn't run into anything.
But she tripped over something large and let out an involuntary yelp. When she slammed against the ground, she skinned her elbows and knees. After a moment of feeling dazed, she clambered to her feet.
"Tried to trick me," he said. "Not gonna work." His quick, pounding footsteps sounded behind her. She felt cornered. Sweat poured down her face.
She stumbled through the darkness, feeling the cool stone walls with her hands. Her eyes had begun to adjust, but not quickly enough. With every passing moment, the man edged closer, his steps a lethal rhythm.
At last, the wall ended, and she turned to the right, praying she'd made the right choice. More shelves blocked her way, and she sent additional small objects clunking to the ground.
"I'm growing tired of this," he said, gaining on her.
As she ran farther, moonlight filtered into the cellar.
Thank God, she thought, hastening her pace, but the Imperial Guard was closer than ever, gaining on her despite his heavy armor. How was that possible? With all her swordplay practice, she should have been able to outrun him. Then again, she'd never done much running.
A flaw in her preparations. She'd need to address that, if she survived.
The man's heavy breathing sounded behind her, mingling with her own. Her heart thudded in her ears, and she felt as though her head might explode from the power of it. Her throat felt raw with fear, with exertion, but she had to keep going. It didn't matter whether the man intended to kill or arrest her. There was no difference, save for the torture she'd endure.
At last, she saw a door at the top of some stairs. She increased her speed and tripped up the stairs. The impact with the ground knocked the wind out of her.
For a moment, she lay there, unable to move. Then her breath came back, and she pushed herself to her feet, arms and legs shaking. Her pursuer had made up much of the distance between them. She scrambled up the rest of the stairs, trying to ignore his echoing steps.
When she emerged in the dim predawn light, she continued running. Her feet took her east, across a bridge spanning a deep canyon and toward the forest. Too late, she realized this was a mistake. In the forest, there was nowhere to hide, not even among the large trees and thick vines.
The vegetation thickened around her, and she felt a strange chill. Cold sweat beaded all over her body.
The guardsman's booted footsteps snapped twigs behind her. With a surge of adrenaline, she began to sprint, heedless of the tangled roots and low-hanging branches. More than once, she stumbled, but now she moved faster than the Imperial Guard. His armor had to be wearing him down.
She wished she'd brought her sword. Yes, she had her bow, but she had practiced little with moving targets.
Another flaw in her preparations.
The forest's undergrowth and the uneven terrain slowed her down, but also slowed her attacker. Perhaps he'd give up soon. After all, she was but one member of the Order, and not an important one.
However, his heavy booted steps continued. Twigs and dead leaves crunched beneath her leather shoes. Thorny bushes tore small holes in her pants, but she didn't care if she looked like a wild woman. Not right now.
Minutes passed, but felt like hours. She ran farther into the forest than her father had ever taken her on hunting expeditions. A few people lived in the forest, but she hadn't seen anyone yet. If they showed up, maybe the man would decide he had better things to do.
She stumbled through the forest beneath the rising sun's red light, got her foot caught in a hole in the forest floor, and hit the ground with a heavy thud. When she tried to push herself to her feet, her arms and legs collapsed. Turning over slowly, she summoned the energy to watch her assailant approach.
He was panting. "About time. You're gonna pay for this. If you hadn't run, we might've spared your life. But not now."
She opened her mouth, but no words came out. He approached, sweat dripping down his bearded face, his hand clenched firmly around the hilt of his sword.
"You're gonna die for this, young lady," he said with a nasty smile, showing his yellow teeth. When she tried to move, her body refused. All she could do was scream. He kicked her head, and stars swam in her vision.
At least she'd see her mother again.
Chapter 16: The First Battle
Markus had walked a long way from his uncle's cabin. He sat now at the edge of a small lake nestled in a valley, tossing stones into the water. His sword and other supplies rested a few feet away.
He'd considered making the journey to Mountainside, but the Black Swamp and Red Plateau were impossible to cross—or at least very difficult. The only other route to Mountainside passed through the Varner City gate, a narrow path guarded by dozens of Imperial Guards.
It was hopeless, he decided, tossing another stone into the lake. Maybe he could walk up to the Imperial Guards, tell them he refused to serve Warrick, and prepare for his execution.
Maybe they'd even make it quick.
A scream startled him out of thought. He jumped to his feet, dazed for a moment, then rushed in the direction of the sound, pushing through an area of thick vegetation. When he reached the clearing on the other side, he saw an Imperial Guard standing over a young woman about his age. She sat on the ground, unmoving
Markus should have ignored the situation, but he was going to die anyways. He marched toward them. "Leave her alone!"
The Imperial Guard turned, panting. "This is none of your business."
"No, I think it is my business. I'm not gonna let you kill her."
"And how're you gonna stop me?"
With a jolt of fear, Markus realized he'd left his sword in the other clearing. If he went to retrieve it, the woman would be dead before he returned. Heart pounding, he glanced from side to side, then ripped a low-hanging branch from a tree.
"You're gonna fight me with that?" said the Imperial Guard, with a mocking smile.
Markus's mouth went dry. He stepped toward the Imperial Guard, feeling foolish. Only a complete idiot would challenge an Imperial Guard with nothing but a tree branch. It sounded like something Rik would have done.
Markus stifled a grin. "Yes, I am."
"You insane?"
"Maybe." Markus stepped cl
oser, brandishing the branch like a sword.
"Well, if that's what you want." The Imperial Guard kicked the young woman hard in the head, then marched toward Markus. "I'm waiting."
This man would pay for his mockery. Somehow.
Markus lunged toward the Imperial Guard, trying to poke him in the eye with the branch. The Imperial Guard swung his sword, connecting with the branch and severing it. Markus's stomach fluttered, and he backed away as his opponent moved back toward the young woman, closing in for the kill.
Markus couldn't let that happen. How he'd do that, he had no idea. At a loss, he jumped over the young woman, who looked as though she were unconscious or in so much pain she couldn't move. Then he stood between her and the Imperial Guard.
"I'm giving you one last chance," the man said. "Walk away and I'll pretend this never happened. But you're trying my patience. This doesn't concern you."
Markus examined his opponent, who was actually much smaller than him. With a quick lunge, he tackled the Imperial Guard. The man didn't get his sword around quickly enough. They both fell to the ground, the sword hitting the soft dirt beside them. Markus tried to grab it, but his opponent wrapped an arm around his neck, jerking him backward so hard he thought his neck might snap.
The man's hand clamped around his neck, choking the life out of him. He gasped for air as the pressure built in his head. His lungs screamed, and he couldn't pull free, couldn't move.
No. He refused to die like this, without saving the young woman.
He pushed with all the energy he had left, twisting his body enough to face his attacker, and went for the man's eyes. The Imperial Guard released Markus, and Markus scrambled for the sword.
But the man bolted to his feet, grabbing the sword first. He slammed his booted foot down hard on Markus's hand, and Markus grunted, trying to pull his hand free. With his other hand, he yanked at his opponent's leg. He moved the leg enough to free his hand, then shot to his feet.
The Imperial Guard's sword caught the front of Markus's tunic but missed his body. Markus's stomach lurched, and he flinched away, narrowly dodging another swipe of the sword. Heart pounding, he took off running, and the Imperial Guard gave chase.
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