I had a moment to watch them fly up towards the remaining chimera, then I heard a hiss of wind and vanished as a spear launched through me. I reappeared and raced towards the nearest group of Selkian fighters. A scorpio launched over my head, I had to drop and roll to avoid him.
I clashed with the nearest Akadian, unsheathing my sword and taking him down with one stroke. The next soldiers came at me together. I held them off with my vanishing power. Then I heard a roar. I looked up to see if another of the chimera had fallen. I didn’t get the chance to see before something hard struck the side of my head. And then everything went black.
CYRIC:
The palace chamber of Karatel was bright with guests and music. It resembled little of its appearance in the time of the Katellians. The long chamber was now lined with statues, torches, and ornaments—collected either from other parts of Karatel itself or from the eastern kingdoms. There was a curved sword of Democedes hanging on the wall. A fine bear-skin of Ghaund. A golden shield from Selket. The slate walls and marble floor had been treated with oils so that they reflected everything around them.
For the event, two tables had been set up, spanning the length on the sides of the chamber and set with food and wine. Soldiers and women crowded the room, a band of musicians played in a corner.
But it was less of the pleasant spectacle Akadian parties usually were. The women present, while dressed in fine clothes and jewels, were from the only recently conquered cities, and having not yet been returned to Akadia, they lacked the influence that Akadian handmaidens provided. Many of them shirked attention—albeit unsuccessfully. The ones who didn’t played their parts poorly.
I stood in the corner at the front of the chamber—where the less frivolous soldiers were grouped around the throne. Lox sat in this, wearing his usual full-plate armor, with a tabard of red and yellow buckled over it. Behind us an open deck looked out over the city. The setting sun cast a gold hue into the chamber.
I watched a soldier kneel before Lox, say a few words, then stand and walk away. Not long after this he looked my direction, lifted a hand and waved me over to him.
“Cyric, this is a celebration, you should be enjoying yourself. Aren’t you happy with our success?”
“Of course,” I replied. He referred to the recently won battle in Selket, where despite having no wyverns, the Akadians had managed to take down four chimera. This was due to the invention of Lox and Bellerophon, and tonight’s celebration was in the master-smith’s honor. He stood nearby, his face for once lacking smudges, his dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Though he held the attention of many crowding soldiers, he appeared stoic as ever. “I suppose my mind is preoccupied.”
Lox frowned. “Still bothered to be going back to Akadia? Come, son—you’ve barely returned since the wars started. Even the strongest soldiers can’t fight constantly.”
I didn’t respond.
Lox leaned closer. “You know I need you there to support me, Cyric. Once Scanth has left the city, there’s no telling what foolish plans the council might concoct.”
“I just don’t see why he has to leave in the first place,” I complained. The only reason Scanth couldn’t stay in Akadia was because the king and council wouldn’t allow Lox to single-handedly lead the war effort—which was foolish because he was a far better strategist than the other commanders. The three periodically switched, though Lox by far led the most—not to mention that even when he was out of power, Scanth and Venoc took their orders from him. It was just pointless posturing that Scanth had to come out.
Lox laughed. “Your preference for battle is one of the things I admire most about you, Cyric. But don’t worry, it won’t be long before I return, then you’ll be free to go where you like.” He raised his brows beseechingly at me.
I nodded.
He started to say something else, but before he could finish a soldier came to bow beside him. “My Lord, the spoils from the Selkian battle have arrived. Lieutenant Vallin has escorted them himself. He requests permission to bring them before you.”
Lox darkened for a moment, then grew a grin. “Well, this should lift your spirits, Cyric. Or at the least be enough to distract you.” Lox nodded to the soldier. “Send them in.”
As the soldier left, I walked to the edge of the marble deck, beyond the walls of the throne-room so that I was surrounded on three sides by open air. I could see them now, coming in through the south gate. A handful of torches flickered brightest along a trail of soldiers and Selkian captives—not nearly as many as there should have been, but Vallin wasn’t one to take prisoners. The interesting sight was the two metal cages rolling at the back, enormous, and inside of them held what could only have been three Selkian scorpios.
I thought with mild amusement that I hoped Vallin didn’t intend to bring them into the throne-room for exhibit. Then I walked back inside, where Lox had ordered the path from the door to him cleared. They would enter through the large double-door entrance that connected past a long hall to the streets of Karatel.
While the minstrel’s had stopped their playing, the mutterings of the chamber had only minimally subsided watching such a procession.
Lieutenant Vallin entered first and most of the room cheered. My fellow Lieutenant was a man of forty years, with clean cropped hair, and a scarred face. As he strode forward a heavily armored soldier flanked him and it didn’t take much examination to see he carried the now infamous weapon which had the ability to kill chimera.
Lieutenant Vallin bowed before Lox. “Commander, I am happy to report that the west-lands of Selket have fallen.”
“We’ve received the news,” Lox said, forgoing ritual. “Since you’ve left your division and come all this way, why not show us the result.”
I tried not to grow a smirk as Vallin’s face paled over with confusion. I knew Lox hadn’t been happy he’d come back with the spoils.
Vallin bowed, his face red, then he gestured to the soldier at his side. “This is the man who brought the leader of the Cirali’s down. Its body was the size of a behemoth. But it took only one shot.”
While the crowd muttered surprise, the soldier laid the weapon on the marble floor before Lox. Belleraphon displayed no reaction to his invention. Vallin’s underlings had already begun to lead the spoils into the chamber. He presented a chest of Selkian bangles. Then four crates of scorpio jewels—which were never left embedded into their shells after the granted creatures fell. He presented a paltry number of Selkian captives, mostly sorcerers, all of them robbed of their powers by dispel stones.
It was the amber-colored dispel stones themselves that were of most worth, and I saw a number of Akadian soldiers eyeing them with envy—when they weren’t eyeing the female captives.
“This is Rabaus,” Vallin announced, leading forward a white-robed Selkian bound in chains. He had his head down, his lips drawn to a solemn line. He followed Vallin’s prodding obediently. “He’s one of the Selkian leaders. A famed strategist.” The Selkian said not a word, while Vallin crossed his arms and leered beside him. “He’s the rider of a granted scorpio as well.”
Lox leaned forward on his throne. “You must be a man of great skill, Rabaus,” he said. “Perhaps you could employ your talents for the use of Akadia?”
Instead of answering, Rabaus merely cast his eyes upon Lox. They were deep, and dark, like the shell of a scorpio. I didn’t envy Lox the look and before a moment had passed, Lox waved his hand away. “Perhaps not.”
Some of the soldiers closest to Lox laughed, and even I grew a smirk. Then Rabaus was ushered out of the way and another figure was prodded into his place.
She had pale, yellow hair, so long that it fell halfway to the floor. She wore the armor of a Cirali warrior, tight leather, with loose white sleeves. Her hands were tied in front of her, and her eyes were downcast, as Rabaus’ had been. Even though she was dirty, scratched up, and dressed in fighting clothes, her nobility and beauty was unmatched. I felt my heart beat faster, then she looked up at
Lox.
CHAPTER FIVE
CYRIC:
“This is one of the leaders of the Cirali Warriors,” Vallin said, “captured in the Selkian battle.”
The room broke into gasps. I tried to keep my eyes from widening, and even study Lox so that I could determine if he recognized what I did, but I couldn’t even look away from her.
Lox rose abruptly from the throne. “A Cirali Warrior?” he repeated.
Just his tone knotted my insides. What was I going to do? The last time he’d seen Ellia, I’d told him she was dead. After the battle with Karatel, I’d just hoped and assumed Lox would never get close enough to tell who she was. She wouldn’t look like a princess in armor anyways—or at least she shouldn’t have. But I hadn’t anticipated this. And I’d forgotten her eyes. Those bright turquoise eyes weren’t like anything else; looking at them now, I knew no man would ever forget them after seeing them once
Lox turned his head, just slightly towards me, and my pulse sped. I tried not to show any reaction. Then when I looked back at Ellia, she was looking at me. Her chest rose high as her nostrils flared; and I knew I’d accomplished everything I’d intended the last time I’d seen her. She hated me. She hated me probably more than she hated anyone. Before I could force myself to display indifference, she looked back at Lox.
“She wasn’t the leader of the attack,” Vallin went on, “But it was thanks to her that we lost the man who was.”
“Did she have a chimera?” Lox asked, his tone careful.
“Of course,” Vallin hesitated, “Though we weren’t able to kill it. It got away with the other Warrior.”
Ellia made a sobbing sound. It drew remarks from the crowd and her head dropped. When she looked back up her cheeks were wet with tears, but they were tears of relief and even triumph; she now met Lox’s gaze confidently. So she hadn’t known her chimera survived? I wanted to scoff. How foolish did a Cirali Warrior have to be to separate from their greatest asset in battle? And she seemed to do it constantly. Now, thanks to her, if Lox realized…
“She has powers, doesn’t she?” Lox asked.
Vallin’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “She did. We trapped them in a dispel stone. They were allowing her to disappear, and escape her chains. She nearly escaped once already. But I took great care that we didn’t lose her.” Vallin put a hand on her cuffs and shook them, then he brought his hand up to her cheek. “If only we had known Cirali Warriors were such exceptional specimens, we would certainly have been killing them less and capturing them more.”
Ellia shoved herself against his arm, knocking him back. The men nearest Vallin laughed, while the Lieutenant grimaced with distaste.
“I’d like to see the stone,” Lox said, ignoring the display.
As Vallin turned around to one of his aides, I was torn between keeping quiet and trying to go to Lox and say something. I would have already if we were alone.
Ellia’s gaze widened at the mention of the dispel stone. Her eyes followed Vallin greedily as he carried it forward to Lox. I even thought I saw the smallest hint of a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. So she thought she could steal it back and escape? She should have done so already.
Lox rolled the amber stone between his fingers, then he jutted his chin in my direction. He spoke very slowly. “What do you think, Lieutenant Dracla, of a Cirali Warrior with the ability to disappear? It seems a very rare combination.”
My ears got hot; I could hear my own heart beating in them. Half of the crowd looked at me.
Lox turned his head the rest of the way and met my eyes. Once he saw my face, he smiled.
“Honored guests,” he said, addressing the chamber, “It seems Vallin has stumbled upon a much greater prize than he’s yet realized. This girl is no simple Cirali Warrior. She is a princess. Of Shaundakul.”
The crowd broke into gasps.
“Isn’t that right, Ellia Solidor?” Lox finished.
There was a moment of silence. Then Ellia lunged forward to attack him, but she was immediately jerked back by her chains. Lox laughed in her face. “Have her unchained,” he instructed, moving back to his throne. He didn’t look in my direction. I was no longer leaning against the pillar. I stood upright. The chamber was in chaos, not only the soldiers now but all the women and servants pointed towards Ellia with murmuring.
As Vallin unlocked Ellia’s chains—a newfound carefulness in his treatment—he addressed Lox. “I don’t understand. How could a Warrior of Cirali be a Shaundakulian? let alone the princess. Do you mean the daughter of Savras Solidor?”
“Who else?” Lox drawled, now seated. “Weren’t you present at the battle of Uldin Keep, Vallin? You know how many were left alive. This one has been to Akadia before.” Lox leaned onto one arm. “But even I would like to know how she came to be a Warrior. Perhaps the princess will grace us with an explanation. Last I heard,you were dead.” Lox emphasized the last word; it felt like a jab to my stomach. Ellia looked quickly between Lox and me. Lox went on. “You’ve certainly come a long way.”
Ellia’s hands broke free. She exhaled, rubbing her wrists mechanically. Her eyes met Lox’s as darkly as Rabaus’ had, then she spoke. “If only I could say the same for you.”
It was the first time she’d said anything. It sent the chamber whispering. And though she’d been looking at Lox, I knew the words weren’t for him.
Lox laughed loudly. “So you haven’t lost your voice. Come, don’t be bitter, princess. This hall has rarely been graced by one of your standing. Tell us of your travels.”
Ellia remained silent.
“Tell us of Yanartas,” he went on.
Ellia scoffed. “I shouldn’t waste the description of a single grain of Yanartian sand on pigs such as you.”
Lox frowned, his eyes turning dark “But what about your kinsmen? Surely you remember that Shaundakul has joined Akadia peacefully? Can you recognize them around you? Imagine what it’s like for them to see their princess brought back to life? Surely you owe them an explanation.”
Ellia recoiled, sparing glances at the soldiers closest to her, but then she tightened her jaw and addressed Lox. “If there are Shaundakulians here, they’re no kinsman of mine. No one who fights for Akadia could be a true Shaundakulian.”
“You say that as if it should be an insult,” Lox chuckled. The crowd joined in the laughter. “All those who’ve chosen to join Akadia never regret it,” he added.
The chamber echoed with cries of affirmation.
Ellia didn’t speak.
“Admit it, princess,” Lox said, “you’re surrounded by Akadians, and enemies to the Cirali. It would be best for you to reconsider your loyalties.”
“The Cirali will see the end of you, Lox,” Ellia countered. “They will see the end of all of you!”
“With what? Their chimera? Perhaps you missed the battle in Selket—they no longer pose a threat to us.”
“We fight Akadia with more than chimera and weapons. We fight with truth. We warn the other kingdoms of the way you work: Pretending to be their allies and then turning around and taking everything from them—it’s the worst sort of evil.”
“This claim I’ve heard repeatedly,” Lox said, “and yet it seems that when we offer these native people a place in Akadia, they’re only too willing to abandon their nation and join us.”
“Because of your lies!”
“Because we are stronger.” The entire chamber fell silent. Lox tipped his head and spoke casually. “You will come to realize this too, Princess. You’ll see the might of Akadia, and you will serve us.”
“I’ll never join you!”
Lox chuckled, even as he looked down at the stone in his hand and rolled it around. Ellia’s gaze once again fell upon it. I watched her fingers flexing—she can’t have been more obvious of her intentions and I knew Lox must have noticed.
“I would rather the power of your heritage not pass from you, Princess,” Lox said, “But I can see it in your eyes what you might do to posses
s this.”
Ellia’s reaction showed anything but contradiction to his words. But Lox’s expression I knew even better. He had a plan; I didn’t know what it was, but he had one. He rose once more from his throne, then he addressed the chamber. “A princess is a great mark of distinction for whoever possesses her. King, country,… but I can think of only one man who deserves the honor of owning this, the Princess of Shaundakul.”
The crowd rolled with mutterings. I couldn’t believe what he’d just said myself. What could he be thinking? Surely not to give her to someone here? The officers nearest Ellia turned greedy gazes on her, seeming to view her for the first time as something they might possess for themselves. I felt my chest constrict at the sight.
Ellia ignored the stares on her, undaunted, still meeting eyes with Lox. She didn’t appear even remotely threated by Lox’s words. In fact, she looked glad that Lox had said it.
All this at least, until he spoke.
“Cyric,” he called.
Ellia’s smile instantly fell. Her eyes widened and shot to me, the color fading from her face, but I didn’t hold her gaze long. I looked at Lox, with just as much surprise as Ellia had exhibited—though I didn’t make it so obvious to everyone else. I heard murmurings, felt the attention of the entire chamber.
Lox gestured me closer to him. I obeyed him mechanically.
“You can present the princess of Shaundakul to the king on my behalf when you return to Akadia,” he said. “Otherwise she’s in your charge. You’ll take good care of her, won’t you son?”
He held his hand out, opening it to reveal the amber stone. He turned his gaze on Ellia. I didn’t understand what was happening. He must have realized I’d lied to him—now he was rewarding me? Still, there were too many soldiers watching us to question him here. I reached out and took the stone.
Ellia looked as if she’d been frozen. She met my eyes, really looking at me for the first time, then she sank to the marble floor.
Fallen Kingdom (Fallen Trilogy book 2) Page 4
