Balestone

by Toby Neighbors

  Leonosis stood and waited, as flutes and harps began to play a soft yet familiar song. It was the royal march, but arranged for a more delicate performance that suited the illustrious event. The king appeared, with Princess Ariel clutching his arm. He led his daughter through the crowd and up onto the platform. Marriages were usually conducted by priests, but Draggah had insisted that King Aethel bless their union.

  “Men and women of Sparlan Citadel,” King Aethel said. “Esteemed guests and nobility from each of Valana’s nine cities. It is my great honor to give my daughter in marriage to Leonosis, son of Earl Aegus of Avondale. No man hopes to lose a son as I have, yet every man dreams of gaining a son as honorable as Leonosis.”

  Draggah’s presence filled the feasting hall, and no whisper went unheard by the devious spirit. Leonosis felt the demon’s turmoil as people whispered in response to King Aethel’s fawning over his new son-in-law.

  “And so, it is my great pleasure to bind my daughter to Leonosis in marriage and to see him as my heir.”

  This time the crowd didn’t whisper but expressed their shock verbally, some even shouting in opposition.

  “This is my decision, made in good faith and with the interests of the kingdom in mind,” the king said loudly. “And any who challenge my decision may do so with a sword in his hand. I will stand by my decision.”

  One by one the earls all added their voices in support of the king’s decision. And Leonosis could feel the ripples of disbelief from the crowd as Draggah laughed inwardly. Still, no one took up the king’s challenge, and the hall fell silent.

  “Leonosis, please bow,” the king said.

  Leonosis could smell the wine on the king’s breath and see the glassy eyes that stared dully back at him. He knelt, and the king drew his sword. He placed the blade flat on Leonosis’ shoulder.

  “I declare you this day, Prince Leonosis, heir to the throne of Valana and champion of the nine cities.”

  There was a spattering of applause as the king tapped each of Leonosis’ shoulders with the blade and then touched the top of his head. The king then sheathed his sword and stepped back. A priest stepped forward and wrapped Princess Ariel’s right hand with a long embroidered cloth, then he joined Leonosis’ left hand to the princess’ hand and spoke the traditional wedding vows. Then a sword was given to Leonosis by the King’s champion, and a leather bag of heavy gold coins was given by the city’s treasurer. To Princess Ariel a loaf of bread was given by Leonosis’ mother, and a sprig of pine that represented fertility was given by her own mother.

  The priest intoned a solemn prayer, and finally the ceremony was over. Leonosis and Ariel were led out of the feasting hall by a royal guard. The feasting began, but only the highest-ranking citizens stayed in the feasting hall; the rest were led down into the grand cavern where the entire city waited to celebrate the wedding, which meant an excuse to drink themselves into a stupor on the king’s ale and stuff themselves from the king’s kitchens.

  Leonosis and Ariel were escorted to a special suite of rooms where they were supposed to celebrate their wedding for an entire week. Traditionally, the bride and groom would consummate their marriage and then return to the feasting hall, where there would be drinking and foods served until late into the night. But Draggah did not want Ariel’s innocence lost.

  “Now,” he said as they settled into the lavishly decorated bedchamber. “You must not let anyone guess we are not one flesh. The days ahead are critical. The king will waste away, and then I shall be crowned.”

  “You are the crown prince — isn’t that enough? We control my father. Why does he have to die?” Ariel protested.

  “Do not question my plans,” Draggah said. “We will have the earls’ support but we must also have the officers in your father’s army.”

  “Why? What do you hope to accomplish?”

  “Our goal, Princess,” Draggah said with a savage grin. “Now, it has been long enough. We shall change clothes and return to the feast.”

  Their return was celebrated with wooden toasts by the earls, which were really just an extension of Draggah’s own mind. Leonosis could almost felt a stretching in his captor’s mental capacity since the earls were murdered and brought magically back to life as the demon’s pawns.

  The king sat on his throne, nursing goblet after goblet of wine. He looked miserable, but he couldn’t leave the feast. Brutas turned up, his mouth looking swollen to Leonosis but not so much that people who did not know Brutas would notice. Countess Wendolyn alone looked truly happy. She did not care about anything but the achievement of her family, and no matter how poorly Draggah treated her, she would still be the mother of a king. No one could take that from her now, and Leonosis saw that she had several suitors. The winds of change were blowing, and the most canny of the kingdom’s power brokers were already taking notice.

  Three days later Princess Ariel convinced her father that he would feel better with a sword in his hand. Leonosis watched from a high window in the castle as the king set about sword practice with his royal guard. The blades were all bare, although the royal guard were the best swordsmen in the king’s army, and none would dare hurt the king. They went through their paces, allowing the king to defeat them time and again. Then, Leonosis saw Ariel wave her hand. It was a common gesture, as if she were shooing a fly away, but suddenly one of the guards stumbled forward. At the same moment, the king spun to avoid another guard’s painfully slow thrust. There was a clash of bodies and a scream of pain. Princess Ariel looked up at Leonosis, but he was lost deep inside Draggah’s consciousness. He could see her, but she saw only her demon overlord.

  The king was grievously wounded, and while everyone in the entire city was speculating about exactly how the king had been brought low, Leonosis was high above the training ground where anyone could see him, and the king’s own guard had been training with their lord. There was no way that anyone could accuse Leonosis of assassinating the king, and later that same day, King Aethel died.

  Princess Ariel did not have to pretend to grieve; her loss was obviously real. She had resented her father and used magic to control him for a long time, but she wept for him just the same. The next day the earls called a council, with Brutas sitting in for his father as Leonosis was proclaimed the new king. Draggah had been prepared for opposition from the army, but in the end their honor and guilt over their part in the king’s demise held them in check.

  Another ceremony was quickly performed, and Leonosis was crowned. The other earls paid their respects at the king’s funeral feast and then traveled back to their own cities. And Leonosis, unable to do anything to stop the evil spirit’s plans, watched it all from his own body. Once everyone was gone and there were no more public perceptions to keep up, Leonosis stayed in the king’s lavish study. It was a large room with huge windows overlooking the training grounds.

  Princess Ariel sat on a small stool, waiting for Draggah’s next move. She was impatient and angry, but she kept silent, and Leonosis, who had deep feelings for his queen, was glad that she did not draw the ire of their demon master.

  “It is almost time,” Draggah said at last. “I can feel the wind of fate stirring.”

  “Time for what?” Ariel asked.

  “How little you know, child,” Draggah said softly. “Do you not remember there are three sacred objects of power that protect this world?”

  “Of course I do,” Ariel said. “But they were lost in the cataclysm.”

  “The cataclysm was only a small part of many needful things.”

  “You were part of the cataclysm?” Ariel asked in surprise.

  “Don’t seem so shocked. Your kind only needed a nudge to sink to their baser instincts. A hint of true power to those fools who ruled your kingdom was enough to send them rushing over the edge of self-restraint and straight into total chaos.”

  “And the purge?” Ariel asked.

  “An unfortunate, but not unforeseen, result of the fear your kind adopted after the cataclysm.�
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  “If someone hadn’t archived the sacred texts here, your plan might have been lost,” she sneered.

  Draggah laughed. “That is the one great weakness of your kind. You are so short-sighted that you cannot fathom a time beyond your own pathetic lives. You are mortal, and I am not. With eternity comes patience, my dear, and if I had been forced to wait an eternity, I would not have lost sight of my plan.”

  “Which is?” Ariel asked.

  “Do not try me, O Queen,” Draggah said in a mocking voice that Leonosis himself had often employed. “Your part in my scheme will come to fruition soon enough. You are the centerpiece, the embodiment of centuries of work. But do not think that you are any more to me than a smoldering wick. I can snuff out your life whenever I choose.”

  Ariel looked away, and Draggah laughed. Leonosis wanted to scream for the demon to stop, but tormenting Ariel was Draggah’s favorite pastime. And if Leonosis interfered, he would know only pain.

  “Something important is about to happen, I can almost taste it,” Draggah said.

  “But you can’t foresee it?” Ariel said.

  “I can predict it — that is good enough.”

  “What is it?”

  “The Balestone is moving,” Draggah said, almost giddy. “And soon it will be mine.”

  The laughter was maniacal and frightening. Leonosis didn’t know what the Balestone was and he didn’t want to know. In that moment he wanted to die. He wanted the pain and fear to be over, but there was no way to stop his misery. He was firmly in Draggah’s clutches, and for the newly crowned King of Valana, there was no escape.

  Chapter 26

  Tiberius

  Tiberius’ legs felt like they were on fire. He had convinced Rafe to stop for a brief rest. They had scaled the easiest part of the mountain, scrambling up the rough edges until they were at last at the nearly vertical cliff face. Luckily there was a crack in the rock face large enough for them crawl up. It would be much safer than trying to climb the cliff’s outward face, but it would still be a difficult and taxing ascent.

  “How is she?” Tiberius asked.

  “No change,” Rafe said. “I feel like I’ve failed her.”

  “You haven’t, you’ll see. Once she gets some sunlight, she’ll be okay.”

  “We probably should have left her with Lexi and gone up to scout the situation,” Rafe said. “I’m just afraid she’s going to die and I won’t be with her.”

  “Why would she die?” Tiberius asked, trying to sound upbeat and hopeful, but failing.

  “Don’t play dumb, Ti,” Rafe growled. “We both know what we’re facing here.”

  “That’s true, but let’s be honest. Did you really think we’d last this long in the blighted lands?”

  “No,” Rafe admitted.

  “So, now that we’ve done the impossible, let’s not give up hope.”

  “She’s so thin,” Rafe said.

  “She’s changed, but she isn’t dying.”

  “You don’t know that,” Rafe said.

  “You don’t know, either. All I’m saying is that I have faith in us. We’ve accomplished a lot. There’s no need to think we can’t do more.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “Yes,” Tiberius said adamantly. “I absolutely do.”

  “All right, let’s get her to the top of this damn mountain.”

  The climb up the cliff face was arduous. They were forced to stop several times to rest. There were areas where Tiberius would squeeze through a tight place or climb past an obstruction so that Rafe could pass Olyva up to him. They pulled her along, carrying her as much as possible and trying not to look down. The crack in the cliff face was well worn, and Tiberius guessed that animals had made frequent use of the crack over many years. When they finally reached the mists, both men felt a swell of hope. They were drawing nearer to their goal, and Tiberius hoped desperately that they were in the right place.

  It was late in the day when the mists finally parted. They were still crawling along the crack that Tiberius had taken to calling the goat track when they could suddenly see the mists giving way. Tiberius tried to look up, but there was no way to see what lay above them. They continued on, the track keeping them on the eastern side of the mountain, which was veiled with shadow, but they could see the blue sky. And when twilight came, they marveled to see stars again.

  “We better stop for the night,” Tiberius said. “It won’t do us any good to fall now.”

  “What do you think is up there?” Rafe asked as he leaned back against the mountainside.

  They were in a small but stable spot on the goat trail. It was flat and large enough that they could stretch their legs out to rest. Tiberius had carried one pack with some water, enough rations for three days, and a thick blanket. He pulled out some of the strips of dried meat and handed them to Rafe.

  “Hamill Keep, maybe,” he said. “I can’t say for sure, but one thing is certain: we’ll get plenty of sunshine come morning. We’re facing east — the sun should be right in our faces.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Rafe said around a mouthful of dried meat.

  Their food was tough, and they were forced to tear off chunks then suck on the leathery food until it was soft enough to chew. Tiberius was sick of it, but it filled their stomachs, and he didn't complain.

  They slept easily enough, keeping Olyva between them and sharing the blanket. It was cold high up on the mountain, and they slept fitfully. Late in the night, bad weather rolled in, and thick clouds covered the stars. When dawn finally broke, the day was dreary, gray, and wet. A cold drizzle was falling, and thick clouds blocked the sunlight Tiberius had been hoping for.

  “Damn it!” Rafe said. “What else could possibly go wrong?”

  “Let’s not think about that,” Tiberius said, peering over the ledge at the mist that lay below them. “All we can do now is get to the top and see if we’re in the right place.”

  “Fat chance of that,” Rafe said irritably.

  But Rafe was wrong. The goat trail came out onto at small pinnacle, and above them rose the treacherous peak. Hamill Keep was built like a crown on the very top of the mountain. There were tunnels that ran down into the mountain from inside the city, but none that came out onto the surface. The wind was cold and blowing hard.

  “So what now?” Rafe asked.

  “We have to get up there somehow,” Tiberius said.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m certain it can be done. How else could people get here?”

  “I wonder if any of them did it with another person on their back?” Rafe said.

  “You could stay here with her,” Tiberius suggested. “I could go up and get help.”

  They could see the walls of the city high above them. To Tiberius they looked like the crooked teeth of an elderly person.

  “I can do it,” Rafe said.

  “Alright, let’s go then. I’m ready for a warm fire and some mulled wine.”

  “Better make mine ale,” Rafe said. “And a soft loaf of bread, with toasted cheese and maybe a hot stew.”

  They climbed slowly, careful of each hand- and foothold on the wet rocky mountainside. The ascent wasn’t straight up, but it almost felt like that to Tiberius. He had no idea how Rafe could do it with Olyva over his shoulder, but he never faltered. It took almost two hours to reach the bottom of the wall.

  “Do we keep climbing?” Rafe asked.

  “Surely there’s a gate somewhere,” Tiberius said.

  “You want to shimmy around and see?”

  Tiberius nodded, and they set off. There was a tiny stub of rock around the bottom of the wall, barely as wide as Tiberius’ foot, but the wall itself was pitted and cracked, so they had an abundance of handholds. And shimmying sideways was easier than climbing up. They had to go to the west side of the mountain to find a gate. It was tall and made of heavy wood. Tiberius banged on the gate and shouted until a head appeared on the wall above them.


  “Who’s that?” the man shouted. “No one’s out today.”

  “We’re from Avondale,” Tiberius shouted back. “We have the earl’s daughter, Olyva. She’s ill.”

  “Avondale? That’s not possible.”

  “Let us in, we’ll explain.”

  “No one comes into the city. Earl’s orders.”

  “Not even his daughter?”

  “Earl Marcus’ daughter was exiled from Avondale.”

  “That’s right, we all were. Now let us in.”

  “What’s your names?”

  “Rafe Grentzson, and Tiberius Aegusson.”

  The man disappeared, and after a short wait, they heard the heavy wooden locking beams being lifted. Rafe looked at Tiberius and smiled. Ti had no idea what type of reception they would receive in Hamill Keep, but at least they wouldn’t be left hanging on the side of the mountain.

  Every muscle in Ti’s body hurt. He had pushed himself to his limits the day before and he didn’t think he could have lasted much longer. When the gate swung in, Tiberius took a shaky step forward. There were men with weapons just inside the gate. One lowered his spear and took Tiberius’ arm, helping him forward. Two other guards helped Rafe, and one looked at Olyva. Her body was changed, but her face was the same, and the soldier decided he recognized her, even though it had been many months since she had been sent to Avondale as Brutas’ betrothed.

  The soldiers took Rafe’s sword and Ti’s staff, which he had fastened to the pack he carried over his shoulder. They were led up into the earl’s palace, which was spartan compared to Avondale’s palace. The large building was little more than a feasting hall, some spare rooms, and the noble’s residence. There was a crowd of people in the feasting hall, and the earl was sitting in judgement at the far end. At first Tiberius thought they would be taken straight to the earl, but instead they were sent to a small room, with two narrow beds and a small window that looked out over the city’s high wall.

  “What’s this?” Rafe said, trying to keep his anger in check.

  “You’ll wait here,” the guard said. “And you’ll keep quiet until the earl sends for you.”