Deo’s head snapped around, and for a second, his runes came to life. I started forward toward him, not knowing how I was going to stop him if he’d chosen to attack his father’s wife, but it wasn’t necessary.
“What do you here, Idril?” Deo said, his words dripping with venom. “Come to watch your husband claim victory? You’re too late. We did the job for him.”
“My ... husband ...” Idril glanced at Israel, then returned her cool regard to Deo. “You have changed much, Deo.”
A great mocking laughter filled the hall. “And for that, you may thank your husband, for I have no words left for you.”
Deo went to the other banesmen, helping them up and conferring briefly. I moved over to slide my shoulder under Hallow’s listing side, putting my arm around his waist to help him.
“You are not going to just let him leave, are you?” the blond man asked, his voice so deep it sounded as if it came from the very center of Alba. “Did you not witness the slaughter of which he is capable, of the bloodlust that possessed him? It was a killing frenzy powered by the magic of the invaders. They are nothing but Harborym in disguise!”
Israel said nothing, but his fingers on the hilt of his sword tightened.
“Jalas speaks the truth.” The Starborn representative looked nervous and uncomfortable, casting worried little glances between Israel and Jalas. “Now that the Harborym have left ... have been destroyed ... we cannot like having remnants of their power left behind to taint and corrupt others. My people have suffered enough from the invasion!”
“We don’t corrupt others,” I said, annoyed despite my weariness. “And your people—what remains of them—are safe now because Deo had the bravery to embrace the only power that could destroy the Harborym.”
“It is not the only power,” Hallow murmured in my ear.
“No, but they don’t have to know that,” I whispered back. “I won’t stand for them villainizing Deo just because he did what they couldn’t do.”
“I believe there is more to it than that—”
“Far be it for me to command any man to destroy his own kin,” Jalas said, casting a glance toward his daughter before addressing Lord Israel. “But you yourself said that you would drive the last vestige of the Harborym from the land. These so-called Banes of Eris are nothing but Harborym in the making. Destroy them before they bring ruin to Alba.”
“What?” I gasped, not having expected that the minute we saved the world, we would be damned and destroyed for it. “You’re mad!”
“Allegria, do not allow your emotions to gain the upper hand,” Hallow said, pulling me back when I started forward. He winced at the movement, and added, “Don’t give them any ammunition for calling you hotheaded and out of control. Calm yourself and think this through.”
“I am calm,” I said, glaring at the group that made up the council. “But I’m not foolish. I’m not going to stand idly by while they declare a sentence upon us. Not when we have done nothing wrong.”
Still Israel said nothing. His eyes were on Deo, who had turned to me and gestured for us to join him.
“What say you, Lord Israel of Abet?” the Starborn asked, the formality of his phrasing at odds with his anxious expression. “Will you honor your word, or do you expect the council to countenance the continued existence of these excretions who call themselves banesmen?”
“Oh! I’ll excrete you—” I snarled, and started forward again.
“Allegria!” Hallow called after me, but it was Lord Israel who kept me from punching the Starborn nobleman in his face.
“Cease, priest,” he said, casting a fast glance my way before turning back to look at his son. “Exodius.”
“Yes, I’m here.” The little runeseeker hurried forward, three pale green stones in his hands. “You should know that, since you summoned me, and sent the lad for me, although that turned out to be more of Thorn’s doing more than anything if you listen to him. And I don’t always, because he always was unbearably smug about such things.”
Hallow hobbled over to where I stood, dividing my time between staring pointedly at the Starborn lord and watching Deo. He gestured for us again. I took Hallow’s hand and tried to tug him forward, but he refused to move.
“The moonstones,” Lord Israel said, his lips barely moving when he spoke. “Use them.”
“Now? Here? I will remind you that I do not know whether the stones will cooperate. You did not give me time to consult them—no, you didn’t—and moonstones can be very tricky to handle if you don’t go about it properly. Luckily, I’ve always had a way with them, but these three are strangers to me, and thus, I cannot guarantee their efficacy.”
Lord Israel’s lips thinned. To my surprise, he gestured a hand toward me and said, “The priest’s service in closing the rift will be remembered. She will return to her temple, and I will ensure that Lady Sandorillan removes all memory of her from the people and land.”
“You are absolutely insane,” I said, pulling desperately first on Kiriah Sunbringer, and then on the chaos power, but neither answered me. They had both abandoned me, leaving me bereft and empty inside.
“You, arcanist.” Lord Israel’s gaze was still on Deo even though he spoke to Hallow. “You served me well.”
Hallow stood stock-still for a moment before stiffly nodding his head.
I stared at him, the words echoing in my head. “What service—”
“Deosin Langton, son of Aryia!” Lord Israel’s voice echoed around the room even though it was filled with bodies.
Deo had started for the main doors. He turned to look back toward us, and I fretted momentarily because I couldn’t see his expression. I knew he was in pain, both emotionally and physically, leaving me with the desire to help him, warring with my need to give Hallow aid.
What did Lord Israel mean Hallow had served him well? A suspicion began to grow in my mind.
Hallow coughed up a bit of blood, and absently, I sketched a few healing runes on his chest.
“My shoulder, too,” Hallow whispered, wincing. “I think it’s broken.”
I drew several runes on it, my hand still in midair when Lord Israel spoke the words that changed the world forever.
“Lord Jalas is right. The Harborym might be gone, but their foulness remains. Alba cannot tolerate such to taint its purity.”
Deo laughed again as he faced his father. “Do you think to threaten me, old man? Are your eyes so feeble that you don’t see before you the very proof of my success? Do you not recognize the power that I now wield?”
“Your power is an abomination, as are you. And as are those who you’ve tainted.” Lord Israel gestured toward the banesmen. My fingers dug so hard into Hallow’s arm that he squawked. “You and those you have made in your image cannot be allowed to continue if there is to be peace in Alba. The Fourth Age will not begin until you are removed from it.”
“We have to stop him,” I whispered to Hallow. “We’ve done nothing wrong. Deo has done nothing wrong. This is naught but a witch hunt.”
The look Hallow gave me was filled with pity. “My heart, did you not realize all along that this was always Lord Israel’s intention?”
“No! He called me a monster before at his camp, but I thought that was because he didn’t know what we could do.”
“He knew. He knew well the power that Deo—and you banesmen—hold.”
“What sort of a father murders his own son?” I thought for a moment. “Or, for that matter, marries his son’s sweetheart, and banishes said son to a rock in the ocean?”
Hallow said nothing, but his eyes were grave.
“And how do you intend on destroying me?” Deo asked, striding forward, one hand gesturing toward the council leaders. “Do you think your beloved council can do what an entire battalion of Harborym couldn’t? We destroyed them. We fought them hand to hand, and destroyed every last one of them. Can you say as much?”
“Their captain was gone,” Jalas said loudly, making an angry gesture. �
��They lost heart and became easy targets. It was only a matter of time before we would have killed them all. You were simply here before us, nothing more.”
The others murmured their agreement, although I noticed Idril said nothing, just stood by her father’s side looking pale and delicate and small-boned. No one would ever call her hearty peasant stock.
“Do you wish to see just how tainted I am by the Harborym?” Deo called to Jalas in a taunting voice. “Come and I will show you.”
“Hallow,” I said in warning, my eyes on the harness crossing Deo’s chest. The runes were glowing softly. “How fast can you move? Better yet, can you get out of this chamber on your own?”
“No,” he said, his fingers closing around my wrist. “Do not interfere.”
“I’m not going to let Deo kill his father,” I protested.
He shot me a look that I couldn’t easily read, and said, with a strange note in his voice, “Stay with me, Allegria.”
I shook my head. “There has been enough death today. I’m not going to allow any more.”
“If you stay with me, we can teach each other. We could be happy. We—” Before he could say anything else, I slipped out of his grip and moved forward, around Lord Israel and the runeseeker, sending desperate queries to Kiriah, but again she turned her back on me, dooming me to a life without her grace.
“You have done enough,” Lord Israel said, and gestured to the runeseeker. “Do it now, Exodius.”
“What can a runeseeker do—” Deo started to say, but paused. For a moment, I thought he was merely hesitating; then I saw a thin sheen of ice growing outward along his skin, building layer upon layer, holding him frozen in position. The other banesmen were similarly affected, their expressions ranging from anger to wariness. I stared in horror at Deo, at the others behind him, before turning to look at the runeseeker. He held the stones high, his eyes closed, chanting words I did not recognize.
“No!” I shouted, and would have lunged forward to the runeseeker, but Israel caught me and held me back. “Stop it! You must stop. Lord Israel, you don’t know what you’re doing!”
His eyes held nothing but anger. “I know far more than you, priestling. Arcanist! Take her.”
I shrugged my way out of his grasp, backing up when Hallow limped forward. “No one is taking me. I am a Bane of Eris—”
“You will join your compatriots if you don’t cease speaking now,” Lord Israel said, and without another look at his son added, “Bury them deep in the earth where their bodies will never be seen again,” before striding out of the room.
The others followed silently after him.
I stumbled forward, reaching out a hand to touch the ice that covered Deo, now several inches thick. It wasn’t cold, and I realized with a start it was crystal that held him in its grip, crystal that encased him in an airless tomb.
Grief hit my gut hard and hot, causing me to double over even as I sobbed out Deo’s name. Guards swarmed forward, three of them picking up the frozen figure of Deo, while others hauled away the remaining banesmen.
Tears burned hot trails down my cheeks. I tried one last desperate attempt to gain the grace of Kiriah, filling her ears with my pleas. If I could just summon the power of the sun, I could break the crystal ... but she did not heed my prayers. It was as if she was deaf to me.
“Allegria. My heart—” Hallow limped toward me, one hand stretched out to me. “Let me help you. Come with me. I will do what I can to ease your pain.”
I looked first at his hand, then at his eyes, those bright blue eyes in which I thought I’d seen so much promise. The emptiness inside me filled with inky black despair, all the while Lord Israel’s words echoed in my head. “You were working for him all along? Even after you left him? You betrayed me, betrayed Deo and the banesmen?”
Hallow said nothing, but the pain in his eyes was clearly visible.
It pierced my heart, that pain, choking me with the injustice of it all. “You came with me, with us, but you were acting on his behalf. You used us.”
“I acted as I thought best,” Hallow started to say, but I wouldn’t let him finish. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hear any more lies from the lips that even at that moment I wanted so badly to feel upon mine.
Traitorous heart.
I ran away, ran from that room, ran from Hallow and the Council of Four Armies. Ran from the five banesmen who guarded our supplies. I said nothing, just fetched Buttercup, and rode until numbness swept over me, cradling me from all concerns.
THE FOURTH AGE
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Someone stop her.” The words came from Hallow’s lips, but they had a strange, alien quality to them. It was as if they had been spoken at a great distance from himself. He tried desperately to move forward, to chase after her, to hold her and ease her pain, but his body failed him.
He stumbled, and fell, his broken shoulder screaming at the movement, but it was the dull, hot pain inside that worried him. He mumbled the few protection spells he knew, but it did little good.
Dimly, as he lay on the floor, the filthy, cool stone beneath his cheek, he became aware of hushed voices around him. Lord Israel’s men were removing the bodies. When they came to him and tried to lift him, he groaned.
“This one’s alive,” the man who had grabbed his feet said, dropping them. “Someone bring a stretcher.”
He was borne away, his mind muddled with pain and exhaustion, but always in the back of his mind was the need to move, to find Allegria. He couldn’t leave her now, when she was vulnerable, when she thought the worst of him.
“Take him to the healer.”
The words drifted over him like Thorn flying over their attackers. He slid into insensibility, surfacing only when a sharp pain in his shoulder recalled his wits.
“Ouch!”
“Ah, you awaken. Good.” A ruddy face peered down into his. “Lord Israel thought you might have been mortally wounded. This one’s ready to go!” The last words were yelled when the man—judging by the golden blond beard, probably one of Jalas’s healers—straightened up.
Exodius hove into view, his black eyebrow tendrils waving in agitation. “Is he? He looks like he might expire at any moment. Don’t you think he’d be better with you?”
“We have our hands full of our own wounded,” the man said, shaking his head. “This one is yours. You must take him, else he’ll be left for the Starborn to deal with.”
Exodius looked very much like he wanted to wash his hands of Hallow, but to his infinite relief, the old man heaved a sigh, and said, “Very well. Have him loaded into my wagon. I don’t say he’ll survive the journey back to Kelos, but if he does, I expect I’ll find some use for him.”
“Thank you, you are all graciousness,” Hallow murmured, and tried to sit up, but the pain and effort were too great for him, and the black oblivion swallowed him up again.
When he next came to his senses, it was to find himself jouncing around in the back of a small wagon, his head banging against one of what looked to be a half-dozen kegs of beer. This time, he did manage to sit up. “I feel like I’ve been staked to the ground, and a herd of warhorses ran over me. Several times.”
Exodius, whose head was nodding as he sat in the front bench, suddenly snorted. “Hrrf? Oh, he is?” The old man swiveled around to look back at Hallow. “By Bellias’s belt, you’re right. You live, lad. I SAID, YOU LIVE!”
“I’m not deaf,” Hallow said, rubbing his head and wincing at the tender spot that had been hitting on the nearest keg. His chest ached horribly, his shoulder burned, and he felt as weak as a piece of sodden bread, but at least he was alive. “You don’t have to yell. Where are we?”
“A day away from Kelos.”
“That would explain the urgent need I have to stop. Do you mind?” Carefully, so as not to stress his chest and shoulder, he managed to scoot himself to the edge of the wagon, where he eased himself into a standing position.
“Wouldn’t mind a break, myself,” Exo
dius said, and hopped nimbly off the seat to trot over to the grass verge. He whistled tunelessly and scanned the skies as he relieved himself.
Hallow managed to find a semisecluded shrub and, with much relief, attended to pressing matters. By the time he tottered back to the wagon, he realized just how parched he was.
“Do we have any water?”
“Now, what use would we have for that? What? Oh, yes, I suppose he is. There’s a skin of wine in the back, under the fine furs Lord Israel gave me. Drink up.”
Hallow had intended on climbing up onto the bench next to Exodius, but just the brief foray into the bushes left him feeling as if he were dragging leaden weights from every limb. He resettled himself more comfortably in the bed of the wagon, and sipped at the wine. “How many days has it been since the battle at Starfall?”
“Three, although we would have made better time, but this horse of yours evidently wasn’t broken to harness. He is now.”
Hallow smiled to himself and made a mental promise to pamper the horse just as soon as he was able. “Has there been any news of Allegria?”
“Who’s that?”
“The woman who was with Lord Deo.”
“The banesman?” Exodius yawned, and reached his hand back. “Let me have some of that wine, if you are done with it.”
Hallow duly handed the skin forward. “What news is there of her?”
“None,” Exodius said after a couple of swigs. “She left. Lord Israel sent a few men after her, but they said she rode like a madwoman, and they lost her trail after a few hours.”
Hallow sighed to himself. Just as soon as he was able, he’d have to try to find her. He felt driven to clear his name, to wipe from her eyes the betrayal and accusations that had shown so clearly when Lord Israel spoke.
“It’s better you let her go, lad. You’ve got a lot of work ahead, and a woman’ll only confuse you.”
Hallow said nothing, busy with thoughts of how to find Allegria. Would she remain on Genora, or would she go back to Aryia and her temple, there to live as an outcast?
“Thorn’ll give you such advice as he can—indeed, more than you could want—but you’ll want a clear mind and full focus for what’s to come. I did not insult you; I simply told the truth. Well, you should not have passed into the spirit world, then. I never wanted the job, and you could have remained—that is a blatant untruth! I never coveted anything of yours.”
Fireborn Page 19
