The Silent Pact

by Genevieve Dickinson

  “Captain Fowler. What news do you have to report?” Lyall’s tone was cautious. Kasrian swallowed hard, prepared for the answer he knew was coming.

  Arik sat down across from the young King, his eyes still staring past everything in front of him. The three men sat in silence for what felt like hours. Finally, the captain opened his mouth. “Your Majesty.” He seemed about to say more, but his voice cracked. Tears sprang to his eyes at last, the first trace of emotion since he returned to the city. His stoic façade broke, and he laid his face in his hands, weeping like a child.

  Lyall slumped forward, his elbows on the desk. “Are you the only one left alive?” It was less a question than a plea for comfort. Kasrian felt his heart drop to his stomach as Arik nodded, struggling to wipe away his tears.

  “Yes, Your Majesty. I set out with five thousand soldiers. We met the Katrellans near the southern border, just west of Vendarin. I was the only survivor.” Arik’s impassive mask had returned. He spoke in a cold, measured tone.

  Kasrian sat down next to him. “How many did the Katrellans have on the field?”

  Arik looked at him. His eyes seemed dead. “Fifty.”

  “What? How is that possible?” Lyall slammed a fist down on the desk. “Fifty men destroyed an army of five thousand of the finest soldiers ever seen? How could that be right?”

  The blood seemed to have drained from Kasrian’s face. “Even their battlemages shouldn’t be that strong. What happened out there, Arik?”

  The Captain was silent a moment before he spoke. “We had faced their battlemages before. We had no reason to think this would be any different. I knew to expect heavy casualties, but . . .” He looked to Kasrian, the horror of what he had seen etched on his face. “They’re using some kind of magic we’ve never seen before. The things they were doing didn’t seem possible. There was fire everywhere. Men simply exploded, then their blood came to life and killed their comrades. I swear I saw one of them wave his hand and a hundred of my men turned their swords on themselves.” He was shaking. “Commander, the battle was over in thirty minutes. We never stood a chance.”

  Lyall looked like he might pass out. “Dear Gods, how did you survive?”

  Arik was crying again. “One of them, I think it was the leader, came up to me. He said they needed me to deliver a message.”

  Kasrian didn’t want to ask, but he knew he had to. “What was the message?”

  Arik cleared his throat. “He said that King Esren valued strength over all else. That he had ordered them to use any means necessary to prevent further attacks on Katrell.” He furrowed his brow. “He put a lot of emphasis on ‘any means necessary.’ I asked him what that meant, but he didn’t answer.”

  Kasrian’s limbs felt heavy. “Soul Magic. He meant that King Esren has allowed the battlemages to use Soul Magic.” He remembered what Selathiel had told him. Soul Magic increases the power of a mage to unimaginable levels, as long as they’re willing to make sacrifices. We have no chance against them now.

  Arik had composed himself again. He was sitting at attention as if he was waiting for orders. Kasrian stood. “Thank you, Captain Fowler. You should get some rest.” He walked to the door and leaned in to speak to one of the guards. “Take the Captain to one of the guest rooms. See that he is not disturbed by anyone without my permission.”

  The guard saluted and led Arik away down the hall. Kasrian closed the door. He looked over to the young King. “Lyall, this is the worst news we could have gotten. We need to keep this quiet until we figure out how to tell everyone without causing a panic.”

  “I don’t think there is a way.” Lyall stood and walked to the window, staring out at the Shadow Mountains. “If Autumn were here, maybe she could think of something, but now . . .” his voice trailed off into thoughtful silence.

  Kasrian nodded. “I know. I miss her, too.”

  “Do you think she’s still alive?” Lyall’s voice was flat. It was as if he knew the answer wouldn’t be the one he wanted.

  The Commander ran a hand through his hair. “I would like to think so. I doubt that Esren would harm her, given what you told me.”

  “If that’s true, then why hasn’t she been seen? Our spies have seen nothing. There’s been no word. And her magic is so strong that I can’t think he could keep her contained.”

  Kasrian sighed. “Whether she is or isn’t, there’s nothing we can do about it right now. We need to decide what our next move is.”

  Lyall turned to his uncle just as a loud knock sounded on the door. “Your Majesty! I have urgent news!”

  Kasrian opened the door to find a young man who had apparently run a long distance. He stumbled into the room. “Commander, the Katrellans have taken Vendarin. The battlemages were killing everyone. Not just killing, but torturing-”

  Lyall cut him off. “Thank you for the message. Guards, see that this man is given a hot meal and a bed for the night.”

  Another guard took the man by the arm and gently led him in the same direction as Captain Fowler. Kasrian drew in a deep breath, then bowed. “Your Majesty. It seems the decision has been made for us. I will prepare the army to march on Vendarin immediately.”

  Lyall rushed forward, grabbing Kasrian’s arm and leaning close. “Uncle, don’t do this. You’re going to get killed.”

  Kasrian shook his head. “You know we don’t have another option. I just hope we can get there while there’s still someone alive to save.”

  Commander Kasrian hugged his nephew close, then turned and marched out the door.

  

  Autumn awoke on plush velvet.

  She was still in her wedding gown, the copper comb in her hair. For a moment, she couldn’t remember what had happened. She sat up, rubbing her aching neck and looking to see where she was.

  The room was circular, with elegant furnishings and décor. The velvet she felt was a bedspread on a large, plush bed. Sunlight streamed through a wide window, revealing bookshelves containing hundreds, perhaps thousands of books lining the walls.

  Memories suddenly flooded back into her mind. Esren. The dressmaker. The poison. She stood from the bed and rushed to the window.

  She was at the top of a tall tower. Her stomach churned at the dizzying height as she looked out over a grand city of white stone. Katrell. It has to be. But why?

  “Good morning, my sweet lady.”

  The thin, familiar voice made Autumn’s blood run cold. She turned to see Esren standing in the doorway. He had that infuriating, sickening smile on his face. Autumn’s fear turned to rage.

  His tone was calm, friendly. “Did you sleep well? I trust the accommodations are to your liking?”

  Autumn glared. He laughed. “Of course. I must work to learn that sign language you’re so fond of.” He walked up to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “In the meantime, how about a kiss from my soon-to-be queen?”

  She slapped him across the face. His smile slipped. “Hmm. I see you’re still having trouble adjusting. No matter. I’ll have a servant bring breakfast.” Without another word, he swept out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Autumn stared at the door. Something about his manner seemed as though he was expecting her response. It was strangely out of character for him. When he found me in the dressmaker’s studio, he assumed I would go willingly. He thinks I’m in love with him. Why is he suddenly expecting me to lash out?

  She turned back to the window with a heavy sigh. The sun was high in the sky. How long was I out? Was it this morning or yesterday that he took me? Or perhaps longer. He could have lied about the poison.

  She glanced over the books. They were all books on history and magical theory. Maybe there’s something in these that will help me get a message to Nor. She pulled out a book at random. It was bound in black leather, the silver letters floating a fraction of an inch above the binding. ‘Masters of Life and Death. What is this? The first chapter was titled ‘The Basic Principles of Soul Magic.’ She flipped through a few pages,
reading the rituals detailed in the book with growing horror.

  A timid knock on the door caught her attention. She snapped the book shut and dropped it on the desk, looking at it as though it were a dangerous animal. How can anyone do those things? It’s unspeakable . . .

  “My Lady?” The shy female voice from the doorway made Autumn jump. The girl was clearly a servant, her soft brown hair bound in a practical braid much like Autumn usually wore. She was carrying a tray filled with food and drink. “Shall I place it on the table?”

  Autumn nodded, suddenly realizing that she was starving. She stepped toward the servant as she placed the tray carefully on the table. The servant girl flinched and backed away. Autumn stopped, slowly raising her hands to show she had no violent intent. Is she afraid of me?

  The girl smiled, but Autumn could see that it was forced. “I’m sorry, my lady. I just . . . never mind.”

  Autumn raised an eyebrow. She looked the girl over, noticing the bruises on her cheek and wrists. Waving to get the girl’s attention, she pointed to the injuries with a look of concern.

  “Oh, it’s . . . just . . .” The girl sighed. “My lady, he’ll have me beaten again if I talk to you. Please, just let me leave the food and go.”

  Autumn hesitated, then moved around the girl to block the door. She folded her arms and stared pointedly at the servant girl. I’m sorry, but I need some answers here.

  The girl swallowed hard. “My lady . . .” she glanced around as if fearful she was being watched. Suddenly, she rushed forward and grabbed Autumn’s shoulders. “My lady, you mustn’t drink the wine. He’s been poisoning you, keeping you asleep. He says that when you wake up and don’t fight him, he’ll stop but . . .” her arms dropped and tears filled her eyes. “I’ve been bringing your breakfast every day for a year. Do you remember any of it at all?”

  Autumn felt her knees buckle. A year? I’ve been here a year? How . . . Why. . .

  The girl dropped to the ground with her, taking her hands. “Please, don’t tell him. Pretend you drank the wine, then maybe you can remember. Please, this war has killed so many already. You must find a way out. Perhaps you can stop King Lyall from sending more soldiers.”

  Autumn’s head was spinning. Lyall . . . King Lyall? What happened to Aldwin? Is Kasrian alive? So many questions and I can’t ask this poor girl a thing.

  Autumn nodded. The servant girl was crying. “Thank you. King Esren . . . He’s insane. We all know it, but everyone is terrified of him and his battlemages. He uses Soul Magic, and the things he can do . . . No one dares to speak out against him anymore.”

  Autumn nodded. Soul Magic. Those horrible things in that book . . .

  The girl continued. “I’ve been watching. He won’t come back until tomorrow. He’ll assume you’re asleep. Just . . . Be careful. I don’t know what I can do, but I’ll try to help you.”

  Autumn looked at the girl and nodded. She stood and gestured to the door. The girl bowed. “Yes, My Lady. You’re right, I should go. My name is Kara. I’ll be back tomorrow.” She fled the room, closing and locking the door behind her.

  Autumn sighed. She walked over to the food on the table, then poured the wine out on the floor. It soaked into the dark carpet, leaving no stain. She set the glass down, smoothing out the skirt of her gown.

  She hadn’t felt like this since her first days on the streets of Nor. The only thing she wanted to do was sit down and cry, but she had to force that back for now. There would be time to grieve later, hopefully when she was back in Nor with Lyall. Right now, Autumn needed to focus on survival.

  Soul Magic. Best to start by learning what I’m up against. She walked to the book on the desk and picked it up carefully. Forcing down her horror at the details of the rituals, she began to read.

  Chapter 29

  The thousand armored men at Kasrian’s back laughed at the two dozen robed wizards lined up on the other side of the field. They wore no armor, carried no weapons. The soldiers joked with each other about how easy the battle would be. They made plans to get drinks after the fighting was done. Kasrian let them talk. He didn’t have the heart to tell them that most of them likely wouldn’t survive this battle.

  The commander had hoped that diplomacy would prevail, but those hopes had been destroyed by every interaction with representatives of Katrell’s new King. Former Ambassador Selathiel and his family had gone to Queen Miraphina’s old hunting lodge weeks ago to meet with Esren, only to be murdered in their beds by assassins. No new ambassador had been sent. It was clear that King Esren did not want peace.

  King Esren. Kasrian’s jaw was set. The past year had been a nightmare. Lyall was enraged. I don’t blame him. The King of Katrell killed his father and stole his fiancé. If there’s a better reason to be angry, I can’t think of it.

  Thinking of Autumn made tears well up in Kasrian’s eyes. He had no idea where she was or if she was even alive. No one had seen any sign of her. Even his spies in Katrell could find nothing. When Lyall had demanded that Esren return her and stand trial for his crimes, the only reply was a mocking note: “My sincerest condolences on the loss of your father. As for your fiancé, I am sorry that she saw fit to leave you, but I don’t see that it’s my place to send her home. Attack if you must, but be warned that my battlemages are ready to defend Katrell to the last.”

  Battlemages. The word sent a chill down Kasrian’s spine. All his life, he’d heard tales of the battlemages of Katrell. He knew now that the reality was far more terrifying than the tales. That was what was across the field now. Two dozen battlemages, all trained and willing to use Soul Magic. His soldiers didn’t stand a chance.

  He drew in a deep breath, forcing himself to think of the matter at hand. Most of his soldiers were going to die in this battle. If they didn’t kill the battlemages quickly, all of them would die. How was he going to manage to save anyone?

  Kasrian let out the breath slowly as the captain rode up to his side. “Commander? The men are ready. Shall I give the order?”

  The Commander looked into the man’s eyes. Arik Fowler, the last survivor of the Stone Shields. He remembered the night, all those years ago, that he had met the man. Drunk, but still brilliant. He’d turned out to be better than Kasrian could have hoped. The captain’s eyes were empty now. He knew exactly what they were facing. Good man. It’s a pity he probably won’t live through the day.

  “Yes, Captain. Give the order.” Kasrian spurred his own horse onward to keep pace with Arik’s. Please, Gods, help me. Help me get some of these men home alive.

  The battle was over in moments. The battlemages loosed their full fury before the soldiers even got close. Hundreds of men screamed as their bodies were engulfed in flames or fused to their armor by lightning strikes. Hundreds more simply stopped existing, their bodies exploded by arcane power the like of which Kasrian had never seen.

  It was pure luck that got the Commander to the line of mages alive. His sword lopped the heads off three mages. The fourth mage took Kasrian’s sword arm off at the shoulder with a casual wave of his hand. The Commander fell from his horse, screaming in pain. While he watched, Captain Arik ran the man through with his sword. He dismounted and turned to help Kasrian, but by the time he knelt down he was dead, his neck snapped by an unseen force.

  Kasrian struggled for breath, trying to press the stump of his right arm to slow the bleeding. He wondered idly where his sword had gone. I have to find it. It was a gift from Nilene. She’ll be so upset if I lose it.

  He reached out and grasped the hilt of the sword. There it is. Everything is fine, Nilene. Everything will be just fine.

  The ghost of a smile played about his lips as his eyes glazed over and he breathed his last.

  

  “Good morning, my love.” Esren’s voice was cheery. Autumn stared out the window, mentally preparing for what she had to do.

  It had been two weeks since she’d stopped drinking the poisoned wine. Kara had told her more, about Aldwin’s death and the war
that followed. The servant girl didn’t know the whole story, but the soldiers from Nor claimed that Esren had killed the old King and Kara believed them. Autumn did, too. It seemed the kind of thing he would do.

  King Lyall had been attacking Katrell relentlessly since then. He demanded that they turn over Autumn and Esren to Nor, but King Esren refused. The war had killed thousands, perhaps millions. Autumn had cried for a full day when Kara told her of Commander Kasrian’s death, barely remembering to pour out the wine before she went to bed.

  She had studied every volume in the room, which she now knew was Queen Miraphina’s old chamber. Autumn had learned of her death, too. At least she died peacefully in the end. At least she never had to see all this.

  Soul Magic was repulsive, but Autumn had found a ritual that she knew would be worth the price. Eternal life. She’d spotted the vial around Esren’s neck. Now that she knew what it was, she could guess what he planned to do with it. I will never allow him to do that. But there is a way I can use it . . .

  “And how are you today, my dear? Feeling better?” Esren had walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Autumn suppressed a shudder and continued staring out the window.

  After a moment, he sighed and backed away. “Well, at least you didn’t hit me. I daresay you’re learning to like me. In time, I know you’ll come to love me as I love you, my queen.”

  Autumn turned to face him, her expression cold. She reached out a hand.

  I’m sorry.

  There was no sound, no screaming. Esren was there one moment, then gone the next, replaced with a fine red mist. His clothes fell to the floor where he had been standing. Autumn had seen the cultists kill the bandits that way once. Now that she knew how to focus her strength, it was a simple matter to do it herself.

  Focusing her mind, Autumn twisted her hand. The blood that was Esren followed her movement. Show me the way. Take me to the temple.

  The blood trail flowed out before her. Autumn picked up the vial of Essence of Life and placed it around her own neck. She followed the path, never stopping to look back.