*****
The following day, Eleanor was in her throne room. Yesterday afternoon, Prince Edmund’s knight had returned with the confirmation from the Kaslea sorcerer that the memory was real. Prince Edmund had sequestered himself in his quarters to think, and Eleanor had decided not to pressure him, returning instead to her castle for a short time. She would return to Kaslea later today.
She had dispensed with all the business of running the kingdom and was considering an early lunch. She was still waiting for an official report on the failed battle. Her knights knew they should report quickly, but they did show some signs of self-preservation in not wishing to report failure.
No doubt if any sub-commanders had been appointed, they would be brainstorming for a way to frame this morning’s debacle in a more positive light, or at least in a way in which she could not blame them. It was pathetic and spineless.
Eleanor looked up at a sudden noise and saw her knight commander hurrying towards her. She straightened on the throne and nodded at him imperiously when he dropped to one knee in front of her, bowing his head in respect.
“Your Majesty, I have a report from a scout regarding the legend of the light in the darkness, if you wish to hear it,” the knight commander began.
“Yes, speak,” Eleanor ordered, feeling the buzz of anticipation in her veins.
This was the information she craved. This was the knowledge that would get her what she wanted. Yannick thought that they could lie to these marines, promise them everything and then give them nothing. Eleanor didn’t like to make false promises; she much preferred to hold all the cards in the scenario and leave nothing to chance.
“The legend is linked with the unknown region, Your Majesty. The scout reports tales of a ruined palace there, rumors of cursed land which nobody has dared claim for their own. The land borders Kaslea to the south and Gatlan to the east, although there is a gorge…” the knight commander explained.
“Yes, I am well aware of the location of the unknown region,” Eleanor interrupted, snapping, as her mind ran over the new information.
It was obvious in retrospect. If the legend had been part of any kingdom, it would no doubt have been well known, either because it had been turned into a shrine, or because it was avoided. Either way, it wouldn’t have been shrouded in as much mystery as it currently was, the specifics having been lost to time.
“Did the scout go to these palace ruins?” Eleanor asked.
“No, Your Majesty.” The knight commander shook his head. “It is tales only. I can certainly send a scout…”
“That won’t be necessary,” Eleanor decided.
The trip would take many days for a knight, and they would have to cross the frontlines and travel to the opposite side of a kingdom which was not friendly to Sintiya knights at the moment. It would be far simpler to go herself; she could transport herself there in an instant. Magic was wonderfully helpful like that.
She could then locate this ‘transport platform’ and maybe even this ‘superweapon’ these marines sought. Then she would have all the pieces, and truly she would control all aspects of the situation. It would only be a matter of time before all the kingdoms fell to her and she had the control and the safety she craved.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Prince Edmund, you must come quickly.”
Prince Edmund’s head snapped up at the sudden intrusion. One of his knights was standing there, breathless, his eyes wide with fear. Prince Edmund slowly rose from his seat at the desk. He had been in his quarters, writing down his options for what was to come next, which was suitably depressing.
Mathis had returned the previous day, with the confirmation from Cyrus that the memory was genuine. There could be no avoiding the issue now. The Northern Kingdoms had bespelled the dragon to attack Kaslea; they were the cause of so many deaths, the loss of entire villages.
It was a crime that could not go unanswered. It pained him greatly, which was why he had taken a day to consider his options, but the only path he could take in all good conscience was the road to war. The Northern Kingdoms would pay for what they had done—Kaslea would surrender to no other kingdom.
“What has happened now?” Prince Edmund demanded. He knew it had to be something, and something bad, for otherwise his knight would never have disturbed him, not like this.
“It is your mother, my prince. She has collapsed in her receiving room,” the knight told him kindly, but quickly.
Prince Edmund swallowed hard and barreled out past his knight and hastily strode down the corridors. His heart was pounding. His mother, the dowager Queen Isabella, was the only family he had left. He knew she was getting older, but she had always seemed so strong, and she was wise, a powerful voice to have by his side.
He didn’t like to bother her with matters of the kingdom, especially bad tidings, but just knowing that she was there was a great support. Especially since his betrothal would no longer be going ahead. Princess Maria would be returning to her home kingdom, and she could take her treachery with her.
That was the prince talking, but the little boy inside him just didn’t want to lose his mother. Then he would be alone, without support. He careened around the corridors, heedless of protocol that said he should walk sedately. His heart hammered in his chest. Surely it couldn’t be as bad as he feared. His mother had to be fine, it was just a funny turn.
He arrived breathless and panting at the doors. “No,” he moaned, seeing his mother lying prone on the floor. A footman was kneeling at her side, his expression grave.
“We have already sent for the healer, Your Majesty,” the footman informed him solemnly.
“What happened?” Prince Edmund asked desperately, falling to the ground and taking the footman’s place, clutching his mother’s hand firmly in his own.
Her skin felt cold and clammy. She was so pale. Gingerly, he placed his hand on her chest; it was barely rising and falling. Prince Edmund felt like he was watching her die before his eyes, and he couldn’t just do nothing. The last time he had tried to summon Cyrus, the sorcerer had failed to appear.
That was why Mathis had had to make the journey, and it had been the cause of the delay. Cyrus better arrive this time, or Prince Edmund swore he would make the old man take up residence in this palace. Whatever his wishes might be, he served the kingdom of Kaslea. He grabbed at the pendant beneath his tunic and focused, willing Cyrus to feel his desperation and to heed the call.
Fortunately, in a flash of flame, Cyrus did appear. His eyes flickered around the room, taking in the scene at a glance.
“My prince, it is good that you called me,” Cyrus murmured, crouching down next to the fallen dowager queen. His palm glowed with power as it hovered over her face, before he moved it down to mid-chest. “She is gravely ill.”
“I can see that,” Prince Edmund hissed impatiently. “Can you heal her?”
Cyrus sighed. “She has been poisoned. It will be difficult, time-consuming, and it might not work. I’m afraid I can make you no promises.”
“Poisoned?” Prince Edmund exclaimed in horror.
For a moment, he was stunned, and then the anger crept over him. He gritted his teeth and growled. The Northern Kingdoms had been acting dishonorably all through this summit, and this was the final straw. He rose and looked around the room, his eyes quickly falling on a bottle of fine wine. It had been one of the gifts Princess Maria had brought with her, presenting items of value to her future family. That bottle she had given to his mother.
“Check the bottle,” Prince Edmund ordered hoarsely, pointing at it.
Cyrus frowned but nodded. “As you wish.” He picked the bottle up and his palm glowed with power once more over the bottle. Cyrus’s eyebrows raised to his hairline. “You are correct, this is indeed how the poison was administered. This will help; it’ll give me more to analyze. But I must repeat, your mother is gravely ill and may yet succumb to death.”
“I understand,” Prince Edmund said stiffly. His eyes
flashed as he turned to the nearest knight. “Have the Northern Kingdoms’ complete delegation gathered, including Princess Maria and any staff she brought with her. Relocate them to the dungeons for the night. I will speak with them tomorrow.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the knight acknowledged with a salute.
Prince Edmund breathed a little easier after having given that order, but his blood still sang for revenge. The woman he had been going to marry had poisoned his mother. His mother might yet die, and he felt responsible.
If he had acted sooner, then perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. It was obviously a ploy to make him lean on his future bride, as he would have, wanting and cherishing the support in the difficult days ahead.
However, they had acted far too precipitously, before the full extent of their plan could be enacted. Prince Edmund wouldn’t be turning to Maria; he would stand alone and he would have justice. The Northern Kingdoms had committed their last crime against the kingdom of Kaslea.
*****
Leo was strangely hopeful when they finished the ride to the palace. He had been trying to keep his expectations low to avoid disappointment. However, there was no playing with words this time—King Oswald and Cain had both promised. The weapon to win the war against the alien invaders and the way home so they could save Earth with said weapon.
It had been a month since the booming voice had demanded worship and the aliens had begun their attack on seven of the largest cities in the world. A month was a long time, and Leo didn’t know what they would return to, or even if there was an Earth left to save. However, he felt the bubble of hope in his chest.
The last few days had been beyond difficult, a rollercoaster of emotions, and he had been forced to cross a line. It was worth it, though, for Earth, for the six billion people that called Earth home. Any sacrifice, any action was justified when balanced against the stakes they were playing with.
Leo was surprised when they were immediately ushered into the throne room. The dying sun had sunk below the horizon a few minutes earlier, and Leo had been under the impression that King Oswald didn’t conduct business late in the day, too interested in his evening meal and whatever entertainment his palace was offering. However, the king was still on his throne when they entered.
“Mission accomplished,” Leo announced with a grin. He frowned. That was an Earth reference. “We have completed your quest. The battle was won for Gatlan.”
“I have heard,” King Oswald murmured, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Excellent work.”
Leo tensed and exchanged a look with Don. It was just a gut feeling, but something didn’t feel right. The sudden appearance of Cain from the shadows just solidified that feeling; he too had a smug look on his face that Leo really didn’t think boded well.
“You promised us a weapon and a way home,” Nick reminded him, getting directly to the point. Out of all of them, he was the most anxious to get home.
“I did, yes,” Oswald confirmed.
Oswald exchanged an amused glance with Cain and Leo’s heart sank. He had known it was too good to be true, but he had hoped anyway. They had actually promised, and he had thought that they would keep their word. Trust and deals seemed to be currency around here. Kaslea had kept their word, even if the results had been disappointing.
Gatlan obviously had no honor.
Leo realized he had fallen into the trap of expecting the kingdoms to act the same. Kaslea had prized honor, and from all observations, he had thought that was how this world worked. However, Gatlan either didn’t care, or thought that nobody would find out. After all, they were strangers with no kingdom to call their own, despite their letter of support from Prince Edmund.
“I’m afraid I won’t be honoring that promise,” Oswald told them.
Don growled and Leo reached for him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and stopping him before he could do anything they might regret. However, it wasn’t Don that Leo should have been worried about—it was Nick. With one smooth move, he drew his personal sidearm. Before he could do anything, Oswald clicked his fingers and four more figures emerged from the shadows.
Nick paused, Don swore, and Leo’s jaw dropped. Out from the shadows, clapped in chains, each with a sword to their throat, were two of their lost comrades. Logan Sanders, the medic from Ortiz’s squad, and Master Sergeant David Lee. Their uniforms were ripped and dirty. They looked a little worse for wear, but they didn’t appear injured.
The gear that Gatlan had provided them as part of the trust exercise had belonged to them, they had already known that. There had been no reason to disbelieve Gatlan’s story, that they had found the supplies next to two unidentifiable bodies. They themselves had found Corporal Jakeman dead, and Cyrus had already confirmed more of their unit had perished.
Leo still felt sick, a roaring in his ears at the sight. He should have asked more questions, even if he doubted the outcome would have been any different. There had been no reason to believe Gatlan would betray them as utterly as this. In fact, there had been every reason to believe the opposite, because a kingdom that didn’t keep their word wouldn’t stay in business for very long.
“We own you,” Oswald declared, his voice ringing with triumph and smug satisfaction. “You work for Gatlan now. Your power belongs to me.” He gestured towards Cain.
Cain smirked. “Do as we say, work for us, and we won’t kill your friends.”
Nick was still holding his sidearm. Cain gestured and the Glock 19 pistol was ripped from his grip, clattering against the floor. Leo looked around, analyzing the situation, and it didn’t look good. If either Logan or David breathed too hard, the razor-sharp blade of a sword would slice their throats. There was Cain and his magic to consider, which they had no idea the limits of and what it could do. Making a move now would be foolish and pointless.
“You are trapped,” Cain pointed out, as if he could sense Leo’s thoughts. “Surrender to the inevitable and bow down before your new master, the king of Gatlan.”
Leo ached to do something. In betraying them like this, Gatlan had become their enemy, their first true enemy in this world of magic. Previously, Leo hadn’t really wanted to choose sides, wary of risking future alliances because it was about Earth, not about what happened here.
He had ignored the disgusting actions of the Gatlan military, only taking limited action, because he’d had to prioritize and he would always choose Earth. However, now, whatever happened next with Gatlan, Leo knew he wouldn’t regret it. He had sacrificed those poor abused, trapped women—he had sacrificed his own morality—because Oswald had promised them everything they needed to save Earth.
It burned like acid in his gut that he had been forced to make that choice and it had all been for nothing. He had already regretted his actions, even though he’d told himself he should just regret the necessity. Now he felt even worse. The bitter ash of failure and betrayal lay heavily on him. Once again, he had made choices, he had taken them down a road, he had wasted time, and they were still no further forward.
Now they had a new problem, and Leo faced a different choice.
However, as he met first Don and then Nick’s eyes, he knew that it was no choice at all. The mission came first. Earth came first. The ends justified the means. They did what they had to in order to survive, in order to get home, in order to save their own people. This was just the price that had to be paid.
They had already made sacrifices. If they had to sacrifice two of their comrades, so be it. Leo knew that it would destroy him, but he would do it. He looked both Logan and David in the eye. They couldn’t move because of the blades, but he fancied he could see the truth reflected in their eyes.
He knew what he would’ve been thinking if the situation were reversed. He would’ve thought, Don’t worry about me, do what is necessary, the mission comes first. Marines might never leave a man behind, but they would gladly give their lives to save others.
They had been to Kaslea and Gatlan. With Gatlan�
��s betrayal, that left one obvious option left—Sintiya. Whatever Oswald commanded, it didn’t matter. Leo knew they would save Logan and David if they could, but sometimes you couldn’t save everyone. They would move on, try their luck in the next kingdom, because what else could they do? Hopefully Sintiya wouldn’t hold their recent actions against them once they explained what had happened.
They had to keep trying; Earth was depending on them, and Leo wasn’t willing to give up. He would keep going until his dying breath. They all would. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Maybe Sintiya would be third time’s the charm for more reasons than one. Leo could only hope, because hope was all they had left.
Earth was worth any price.
Epilogue
With a flash of crimson flame, Eleanor transported herself to the outskirts of the unknown region. It wasn’t something that she had done before. The superstition regarding this part of the land was so ingrained in their culture that venturing here just didn’t occur to people. It was something that nobody did, and the reasons why had been lost to time.
It was history they had wanted to forget.
That made it history that Eleanor desperately wanted to know. What had her ancestors been so afraid about? What was it that had made the rule of ‘we won’t speak of it’ come into being? What was so terrible in their history that they had removed all references aside from a few legends whispered in dark corners, and so that they didn’t even walk the ground where it had happened?
She reached out with her senses, scoffing about the belief that it was cursed land. Then Eleanor stiffened. There was an unmistakable magical presence here, energy seeping into the land. It could well be a curse, and what was worse was that it felt active.
Eleanor swallowed hard and thought for a moment. She was tempted to turn back, forget this whole thing and return to her palace. She was frightened. She had never felt magic on this scale before, and suddenly seeking out its origin didn’t seem like such a good idea.
Justified (#2 Divided Destiny) Page 22
