“We can’t go to Sparlan Citadel now,” Olyva said. “I don’t think I ever really wanted to.”
“So where does that leave us?”
Before Olyva could answer, there was a loud pounding on the door. Rafe placed one hand on the hilt of his sword. The door wasn’t locked, and the people outside were impatient, but they didn’t barge in.
Then Rafe heard a high-pitched voice angrily chastising whoever was knocking. The door finally opened, and Desyra slipped in with a dress.
“It’s Father’s men,” she said, looking frightened. “He’s ready to see you.”
Chapter 29
Tiberius
The room he was given was exactly like the one Rafe shared with Olyva. A servant came and lit the fire in the fireplace. Another came with food. Tiberius wanted to sneak next door and talk about what was happening with Rafe, but he was afraid they were being watched, perhaps even spied on. Tiberius knew his father had rooms with hidden spaces where spies could hide to listen and even see everything that took place in the rooms. Each earl had absolute power in his city; that meant there was no protection against any heinous thing that Earl Marcus might do. And the more Tiberius thought about things, the more he realized that his concerns about the earl were valid. There was something wrong with Earl Marcus, perhaps even with all the earls. How else could Leonosis explain why the earls all agreed to make him king?
Tiberius lay on his cot until the fire was nothing but embers. He tried desperately to predict what might happen. The earl wanted to send Tiberius to Sparlan Citadel, but Ti was convinced that the last place he wanted to go was where Ariel — now Queen Ariel — could do as she wanted with him. Even if Leonosis offered to make him earl in Avondale, Tiberius wouldn’t go, because ultimately his brother wanted what every man with power wants: more power.
He slept little, and the next morning he sat on the bed waiting for his next move. He had almost decided to flee, but he knew Rafe would never leave Olyva. He began to pace, trying to make up his mind, when suddenly there was a pounding on the door that made him jump.
“Who is it?” Tiberius asked.
“The earl’s guard,” came a gruff voice. “Your presence is required.”
“Okay,” Tiberius said.
He straightened his clothes and picked up his staff. When he opened the door, he was met by four angry-looking soldiers. Tiberius stepped out of his room and closed the door. There were four more men waiting for Rafe. Tiberius was tempted to shout to his friend that they should fight their way out, but he kept his mouth shut. He had to remind himself that the earl hadn’t threatened them or made any sort of aggressive display of power. He was a strange man, maybe under Queen Ariel’s magical control, but so far there had been no reason to believe they were in immediate danger.
“Let’s go,” said the guard.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Rafe?”
“They’ll be along,” the man said, waving for Tiberius to move on.
The walk to the king’s feasting hall was much shorter than the trip to his private audience chamber. The feasting hall was where Earl Marcus dealt with the business of running his city, even mediating disputes and sitting in judgement, when it was necessary. The day before the feasting hall had been busy with people waiting in groups to be seen. But, as the soldiers marched Tiberius into the hall, he found there was no one there, not even the earl. The soldiers took Tiberius down to the far end of the room, where a fire was burning in a nearby hearth. A throne sat empty on a raised dais. Tiberius noticed that the dais looked like it had been recently and hastily constructed.
“Hamill Keep is a fine city,” Tiberius said to the soldiers.
“It’s a cold, dreary place,” said one of the guards.
“But it’s home,” said another.
“You really from Avondale?” asked the guard with the gruff voice.
“Yes,” Tiberius said.
“Is it true you crossed the blighted lands?” asked the youngest of the guards.
“I did, with Rafe and Ladies Olyva and Lexi,” Tiberius said, hoping no one would know that Lexi wasn’t a noble-born lady.
“What happened to the other girl?” asked the soldier.
“Nothing, she stayed below with our horses,” Tiberius explained.
“Why would anyone want to stay in the blighted lands?” the young soldier asked.
“It’s a beautiful place,” Tiberius explained. “Probably nothing like you think. Here the land is rugged, much like this mountain, but there are fertile places. And to the south there are green fields as far as the eye can see. You can travel for days without seeing a hill or tree.”
“I thought the cataclysm ruined the blighted lands,” said one of the soldiers. “How can anything grow down there?”
“There are places where evidence of a battle took place. We saw the ruins of a huge city. The buildings were strange, and the sky overhead was dark. Nothing grew there, and the only living creatures were horrible monsters.”
“You’re making this up,” said the young soldier.
“What are you lot yapping about!?” came an angry voice from the far end of the hall.
The soldiers all stood up a little straighter, but none of them answered. Tiberius turned and saw the other set of guards escorting Rafe into the feasting hall. Tiberius was surprised and relieved to see Olyva with Rafe. She had on a dress that was too short, and her feet were bare, but she didn’t seem to mind. Olyva’s youngest sister was with them, too, and Tiberius noticed with relief that Rafe had his sword with him.
“I was just telling them about the blighted lands,” Tiberius said.
“You’re all fools if you believe these three crossed the blighted lands,” said the angry soldier.
“That’s Lady Olyva,” said the youngest soldier, taking courage from Tiberius’ example. “How do you explain how she got here?”
“You snotty-nose little bastard,” said the man. “You don’t know the earl’s family. You weren’t even on this detail when Lady Olyva was sent away. This thing isn’t her, I can tell you that much.”
“Orryn Thelderson,” Olyva said. “What has made you such a foul-hearted lout?”
“See! She knows who you are!” the young soldier crowed. “How could she know that if she wasn’t the earl’s daughter?”
“Don’t you see little Desyra there?” the angry man named Orryn said. “Don’t you think that perhaps she might have told them all about us? This creature is some foul bit of magic if you ask me.”
“We didn’t,” Rafe said coldly.
Tiberius could see that Rafe was getting angry, even though Olyva put her hand on his arm to calm him down.
“Well, I believe them,” said the younger soldier.
“You’d believe anything then,” Orryn continued. “No one can cross the blighted lands. No one can live below the mists.”
A door opened near the throne, and Earl Marcus walked in. He sat down without the slightest hint of emotion, not even at seeing his daughter up and well.
“You may leave us,” the earl said, waving the guards away.
The soldiers left quickly, and the earl focused on Desyra.
“That includes you, child,” he said.
“I want to stay, Father, please.”
“Go to your mother,” he said. “She isn’t well.”
Desyra looked distressed for a moment, and Olyva nodded reassuringly to her. Then the young girl hurried away. When she left the room, Tiberius, Rafe, and Olyva were alone with the earl.
“The sky ship for Sparlan Citadel is being readied now, but I’m concerned about your other companion. Weren’t four of you banished from Avondale?” Earl Marcus asked.
“Yes, my lord,” Tiberius said. “Lexi is waiting for us in a valley not far from here. She stayed behind with our horses.”
“Why did you leave her behind?” the earl asked.
“The horses couldn’t make the climb, and we didn’t know what type of reception we might receive here,” T
iberius explained.
The earl shrugged, as if their reasons made no difference to him. He turned to Olvya and was about to say something when he suddenly turned back to Tiberius.
“Where are your belongings?” he asked.
“Mostly with Lexi,” Tiberius explained.
The earl’s head tilted to the side a little, and his glassy eyes seemed to stare directly into Tiberius’ soul. He felt extremely uncomfortable.
“And the Balestone?” he asked.
Tiberius’ eyes opened wide with surprise. He hadn’t mentioned the stone to anyone, not even Rafe or Lexi. He had no idea how the earl even knew about it, and he felt a cold tremor of fear as he realized that Lexi had the Balestone. It was hidden in one of his saddle bags, wrapped in a scrap of cloth that had once been wrapped around a wedge of cheese. Tiberius had stashed it there the first night after leaving the city. He was curious about the stone but a little frightened of it, too.
“I … I … I don’t know what a balestone is,” Tiberius managed to say.
“Father,” Olyva said, her voice sounding strange as she spoke, “aren’t you glad to see me?”
“You are dead to me, child. And from the looks of you, you’re no longer a child of mine in any regard.”
“Rafe, that isn’t my father,” Olyva said.
The earl stood up from his chair and stepped to the end of the dais.
“What?” Rafe said.
“That’s his body, but he’s dead. Something is controlling him.”
The earl stepped down from the platform and started toward his daughter. Rafe stepped between them, his hands up.
“Let’s talk about this like—”
The earl struck Rafe hard, and Tiberius saw his friend fly several paces and then land in a heap on the polished stone floor. Olyva screamed, but the earl was raising his hand to strike her, and Tiberius didn’t have time to think. He swung his staff hard at the earl’s upraised hand. The knobby end of the staff struck hard, and Tiberius heard bones snap, but the earl seemed oblivious to the pain. He swung the wounded hand at his daughter, who raised her own arms up to cover her head. The blow rocked Olyva, but it would have struck her down if the earl’s arm didn’t snap sideways, the bones between the elbow and wrist having broken cleanly in two.
Rafe was trying to get back to his feet, as Olyva scrambled backward. Tiberius stood with his mouth gapping open. The earl’s face twisted into a snarl.
“Guards!” he shouted, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the large room.
Rafe was back on his feet as the eight soldiers rushed back into the room. They all looked terrified. Earl Marcus stood perfectly still, with absolutely no indication that he had hurt his arm in the slightest. He waved toward his daughter with his good hand.
“She is an imposter. Throw her over the walls.”
“Wait!” Olyva shouted, as Rafe drew his sword.
The soldiers hesitated, and Olyva looked at Rafe. Tiberius saw something pass between them, a look only two people who are deeply in love can share. Rafe turned back toward the earl.
“He isn’t alive,” Olyva said, her voice breaking with a sob as she said it.
Rafe took two steps toward the earl, his action galvanizing the soldiers who started forward again, but before they could reach Olyva, Rafe struck. He thrust his sword forward, ramming the blade hard into Earl Marcus’s side. The blade sank into the soft flesh above his left hip, but no blood appeared, and the earl didn’t make a sound.
For an instant every person in the room stood dumbfounded; no one moved, not even to breathe. Then the earl sidestepped toward Rafe, who stood holding his sword, completely shocked at what he just saw. The blade sprang completely through the earl — the tip came slicing through his tunic with traces of black blood and gore dripping from the blade.
“Scuti Incantatio,” Tiberius shouted.
The shielding spell sprang into existence, and Tiberius flung it over Rafe, just as the earl’s good hand swung toward Rafe. Tiberius felt the power of the blow, and it knocked him off his feet, but the earl’s fist didn’t touch Rafe. It was held a few inches from the side of his head by the spell.
“I can’t hold it,” Tiberius shouted, and Rafe launched himself into action.
Dropping to one knee, he yanked his sword free. Tiberius let the spell go, and Rafe threw himself away from the earl. The soldiers just stood and watched, their weapons held ready but their duty forgotten.
Earl Marcus moved with steady determination. He was pursuing Rafe, who was readying himself for his next attack. Olyva was crying, and Tiberius stood back up just as Rafe swung his sword toward the earl’s neck. The earl swayed back to avoid the blow, but Rafe’s rapier was too long. The tip of the sword sliced cleanly through the earl’s neck and vocal cords. Bits of flesh flung out from the end of the sword, but no blood gushed from the wound, and the earl didn’t stop.
His hand shot out so fast not even Rafe could avoid the blow. Rafe was spun around and fell senseless to the floor. Olyva rushed toward him, but the angry guard grabbed both her arms and pulled her away. Tiberius thought the soldier named Orryn was going to hurt Olyva, but instead he turned her around and put himself between the earl and Olyva.
Earl Marcus tried to speak, but his voice was ruined. Dark bubbles foamed from the neck wound when he tried to speak. The youngest guard, who had been so enthralled with Ti’s story of the blighted lands, screamed in horror.
“No, my lord,” Orryn said, shaking his head.
He had a spear held in a defensive position across his body as the earl approached him. The soldier refused to make eye contact. Tiberius ran forward, shouting.
“Surround him!” he ordered the guards. “Don’t let him go.”
The other guards moved forward, but they were clearly afraid. Tiberius knew he needed to do something, but he wasn’t sure what he could do. He was facing a being who felt no pain and couldn’t be stopped as long as his body was intact. Tiberius had no way of driving out whatever was controlling the earl’s corpse. He was fascinated and horrified at the same time.
The guards held their spears out to keep the earl away from them. Tiberius wasn’t sure if the conjuring fire spell was the right thing to do, but it was the only spell that had a chance of stopping the earl. Still, Tiberius was afraid of working magic in front of the guards. They were in shock at the turn of events, but once the earl was defeated, they might turn on Tiberius.
The earl approached Orryn, grabbing the soldier’s spear away from him with just one hand. Orryn backed up, keeping Olyva behind him. The earl turned the spear, and Tiberius knew he had to do something or the soldier would be killed.
“Accendo,” Tiberius said softly.
Immediately he felt the portal opening. To Tiberius’ surprise the earl looked up as if he could see the magical portal. Tiberius held the fire back as he moved the portal closer to his target, but then he felt a cold wave of power pushing the portal back toward him. At first Tiberius didn’t know what was happening, and then he realized that whatever was controlling the earl was now using magic to fight against Tiberius’ spell.
“Accendo, accendo, accendo,” Tiberius chanted, focusing his mind on the magic that swirled around him.
The counter spell was so cold that Tiberius wanted to recoil from it, but doing so only gave the invisible power an edge over Tiberius’ own magic. He thrust the portal forward, and the cold magic seemed to invade his mind. To Ti it felt like he had suddenly broken through thin ice and plunged into an icy river. The portal froze, the magical fire raged just inside the portal, but no heat reached Tiberius. He leaned on his staff and did his best to keep control of the powerful spell.
He pushed forward again, and the icy power struggled against him. It was a contest of wills, and Tiberius knew that everything he cared about was at stake. He pressed hard, even when his mind began to ache and the room dimmed in his vision. A long terrible moment lingered, and Tiberius wasn’t sure what was going to happen. He was pushing hard
, but the icy power was just as strong. Then at last Tiberius felt his opponent’s will weaken. Ti didn’t know if it was a moment of doubt or a lack of strength, but he rushed forward, pressing with renewed effort. And then the resistance was gone. Earl Marcus raised his spear defiantly just before a torrent of fire spewed from the portal.
To the guards watching, it must have seemed like the fire just appeared from nowhere. They all fell back from the raging heat. Tiberius shifted his focus to containing the inferno. He knew the fire could spread across the polished stone floor consuming the guards, Rafe, Olyva, and even himself, so he held it at bay, only allowing it to rage around the earl.
There was no scream of pain, no attempt to flee. The earl’s body just fell and burned. The stench of burning flesh was repulsive, and one of the guards retched. Then Tiberius recalled the fire and closed the portal. A charred lump was all that remained of the earl.
Orryn stood staring in disbelief, and Olyva ran to Rafe, who was just coming around. Tiberius sagged onto his staff, trying to catch his breath. The soldiers moved around Orryn, who was staring at the earl’s remains. Tiberius heard people rushing to the feasting hall, and there were cries of alarm. Tiberius realized that he needed to get Rafe and Olyva out of Hamill Keep as soon as possible. He had no idea what had taken possession of the earl’s body, but there was a possibility that it might return.
Tiberius’ mind was filled with fears. What if the entity returned? Would he be able to recognize it? What if it attacked Lexi before he could get to her and protect her? What would the people of Hamill Keep do once they realized he was a wizard? The last question was the first to be answered.
“Sorcerer!” someone shouted. “They’ve killed the earl!”
Tiberius hurried over to Rafe, who was slowly getting to his feet.
“Are you okay?” Tiberius asked.
“Think jaw’s broken,” Rafe said through clenched teeth. “Hurts like hell.”
“Okay,” Tiberius said. “I can fix that. But we don’t have time now.”
Balestone Page 22
