by Ben Hale
Golic turned and raised his gaze to the mountains in the southeast. “It is our homeland,” he said quietly. “The streams, the trees, even the snow are all we know. We will fight for the place we call home.”
Suddenly Jack understood. “You’re building an army.”
Golic nodded. “A great many from all the tribes are undecided. If our figurehead returns, they will join us. She was the first to defy a chieftain, and we all follow her example.”
“Who was the first?” Jack asked, a trickle of foreboding creeping into his gut.
“Thera,” Golic said, turning to him. “She left for the sake of family, and the tale spread among our people. We wish to fight for a home, not destroy another. When Thera returns, they will flock to our banner.”
Jack growled and turned away. “Why has she not told me?”
“She cares about you,” Golic said. “And does not want to depart the Thieves Guild. She also fears retribution from our father. If he learned Thera was among us, he would descend upon us in his wrath. Unless our numbers grow, we would not survive.”
Jack fell silent, his anger warring with his frustration. How could Beauty have kept this from him? Or perhaps she hadn’t. She’d made abundantly clear that she intended on returning to her homeland when her father was dead, and Skorn had been vanquished.
“What do you want from me?” Jack asked.
Golic held his gaze. “Convince her to come home.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
Golic sighed. “You’re the only one who can.”
Chapter 23: Betrayer
Beauty mounted Axe and flicked the reins, leading her horse to the head of the caravan. Many of the abbots had wanted a public departure, allowing the thousands of new acolytes to join Ero on his journey to Herosian. Their excitement had waned in the face of Beauty’s answer.
“No.”
Although the support of Le Runtáriel had swayed many to believe in Ero, an undercurrent of resentment had risen among the dissenters, many of which were not in Azertorn. The easiest place to strike against Ero would be on the journey to Herosian, so Beauty had planned a secret departure.
With just Ero, four guards, and a wagon for supplies, they left Azertorn behind and made their way through the forest of Numenessee. They entered the forest before sunrise and light gradually brightened the trees, illuminating graceful trunks and lush greenery. Beauty only had eyes for the shadows, and set a blistering pace.
“Why the rush?” Ero said from beside her.
“The high abbot was a little too eager to have us leave,” she said.
“Is that why we left early?”
“It’s my job to keep you safe,” she said. “And your notoriety is going to bring fanaticism.”
“It won’t be long now,” he said. “Skorn will come for me soon.”
“What then?” Beauty asked. “What do we do when he comes for you?”
She cast a look back at the guards, but they were out of earshot. They had taken up position around the wagon, implying that Ero was inside. Dressed in guard’s clothing, Ero resembled the rest of them—except for his eyes, which were impossible to hide.
“Nothing,” Ero replied.
She raised an eyebrow. “You intend to let him take you? I don’t think that’s what Jack is planning.”
Ero sighed. “The followers of Skorn are becoming more numerous than I anticipated. Even if Skorn is dealt with, the leaders of his cult will not stop their actions.”
“You want to kill his cult,” Beauty said.
“Will you help me?”
“Skorn will kill you.”
“Possibly,” Ero said. “But I cannot let his legacy endure in this world.”
A movement in the shadows drew her gaze, but it proved to be a deer slipping away from the road. As she continued to survey the trees she mulled his idea over, considering the possibilities. She didn’t want to go against Jack, but Ero was right. Just as people were flocking to Ero, they were also gathering around Skorn. A line had been drawn and people were picking sides. Even if god and devil were killed, the movements would endure. Jack had made plans to end the Church of Light by leaving it penniless and Ero discredited, but what would destroy the Cult of Skorn?
“If Skorn took you, how would that help?” she asked.
“Once I know his location, I can summon you to him.”
“You want to use yourself as bait?”
“We both know he wants me,” he said. “That gives us an advantage.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You haven’t answered mine.”
She smiled and gestured to him. “Jack told me about the construct at your vault, and described it as the most dangerous vault guardian he’d ever faced. Why not bring her to punish Skorn?”
Ero was silent for long enough that she cast him a look. Then he sighed. “Our abilities may be far superior to your own, but they still have limits, just like your magic, I presume.”
“What has Jack told you about my magic?” she asked.
“You are a barbarian with magic of the body,” Ero said, his eyes sparkling with interest.
“I can enhance any element of my form,” Beauty said. “Eyesight, strength, agility, speed, hearing, and so on.”
“Why not all of them?”
“Magic always has a cost,” she replied. “Using more than one charm at a time has a devastating impact on one’s body. Doing so to excess is fatal.”
“That must require a great deal of discipline,” he said. “Is that why you are so reserved with Jack?”
She laughed lightly. “Is that really what you want to know?”
“Do you love him?”
She thought of his rakish smile and shook her head. “Same question, same answer. I don’t know if he’s capable of loving one woman.”
“I wager he wants to know what you feel.”
“Then why doesn’t he ask?”
“Perhaps he has tried,” Ero said with a smile. “But words of affection do not come easily to men.”
She laughed again but did not respond, and Ero did not press the issue. For reasons she could not fathom, he seemed sad. As the conversation returned to the tactic of destroying Skorn’s Cult, Beauty thought about Jack, wondering what she felt toward him.
The road wound its way through the forest until it reached the great bridge to the kingdom of Talinor. They turned east but Beauty kept them off the highways. After several days on the road they reached the capitol city of Herosian.
With the fortress at the heart of the city, Herosian sprawled across the flatlands, surrounded by the Sea of Grass. The grass swayed in the breeze, bending in various shades of green that reflected the wind.
They entered the city from the western gate and made their way to its heart. Beauty shielded her eyes and gauged the height of the sun, estimating they had less than an hour until sunset. She wanted to be in and out by nightfall, before word spread that Ero had come to the city.
As they passed through the city Beauty examined the fortress in the distance. Built of stone drawn from quarries in Griffin, the fortress rose an impressive three hundred feet. At the center of the courtyard, the keep’s turrets reached even higher, their surfaces polished to reflect the sun. Whereas the king’s castle in Griffin had a more artistic design, the castle in Herosian was purely utilitarian, the walls and battlements fortified and thick.
They reached the castle as the sun touched the Sea of Grass, and Beauty passed into the courtyard. Dismounting and stretching, she nodded to the approaching captain and withdrew a letter. The man’s eyes widened and he nodded.
“You are expected,” he said, his eyes flicking to Ero. “The king has prepared quarters for you. We’ll have the prisoner brought there.”
“You have our gratitude,” Ero said.
The man dropped his gaze. “You have ours for visiting our city.”
The captain motioned to the guards and led Beauty and Ero inside the castle. They
ascended a turret and proceeded down a corridor until they came to an arched doorway. The captain swung the door open to reveal a comfortable receiving room with adjoining bedchambers. A crackling fire warmed the room, while elven light orbs were placed between Talinorian banners. Comfortable chairs and a couch sat in a circle around the room, while tables with decorative porcelain vases lined the walls.
“Duke Gorwall will be here in a moment,” the captain said.
“Thank you captain,” Ero said.
When he was gone, Ero removed his guard uniform, revealing his customary white robe beneath. When Beauty raised an eyebrow, Ero merely smiled and finished changing. Then he tossed the guard uniform to her.
“We need Carvia to respect us,” Ero said. “And appearance is everything.”
The statement reminded Beauty of Lorelia, and she turned away, her heart tightening. She’d thought Lorelia was her friend, but had never known the thief’s true past. Then Lorelia had betrayed them to Skorn, and it had cost Lorelia her life.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the door swung open and a rotund man stepped in with a guard in tow. Duke Gorwall scowled at Beauty and kept his distance. Dressed in regal red and purple, the duke ranked just below the king, and led the Duke’s Council.
“Beauty,” he said. “Your guildmaster had better uphold his end of our agreement.”
“Always,” she said with a smile. “Did you bring her?”
The duke stepped aside and gestured to the guard, who exited and returned a moment later with a woman bound in shackles. She caught sight of Beauty and scowled, and then she noticed Ero.
“Ero,” she spit the word like it was a curse. “Come to gloat?”
“Your master abandoned you,” Ero said. “And I am sorry for your plight.”
“I would die for him,” Carvia said, straightening in her chains.
“And so you shall,” Duke Gorwall said. “A noose waits you in four days’ time.”
Carvia sneered at him and looked to Beauty. “If you thought bringing this imposter would get me to betray Skorn, you are mistaken.”
“Skorn is as much an imposter as I am,” Ero said. “Yet you believe in him.”
“He is our god,” Carvia said.
As they spoke Beauty examined her. Dressed in prisoner grey she didn’t look like much, but a sharpness to her gaze gave her an imposing presence. Her hair was short and disheveled, and her hands were worn from the shackles that bound her. Despite her appearance, she retained the regality of her former position as a viscount’s wife.
“If I were not in shackles I would kill you,” Carvia said.
“You assume you could,” Beauty said, and Carvia turned on her.
“You think to stop me?” she sneered. “My master told me much about you, and your talents. But beneath that beauty you are just a worthless thief. I wonder what a certain barbarian chief would say if he knew you were alive . . .”
Ero regarded Carvia with pity and a trace of irritation. Surprisingly, he pulled a knife from a fold of his cloak and stepped to Carvia, placing it against her throat. At the appearance of steel the duke moved to intervene.
“I’d like to kill her myself,” the duke said, “but she is still in my stewardship.”
Ero cast him a look that made him retreat. Then Ero stared at her. “Do you believe so strongly in Skorn that you would die for him—even when he has betrayed you? He does not deserve your loyalty, but I will oblige your desire.”
The knife pressed against her throat and Carvia swallowed, the threat of death carried home by the startling blue eyes. As blood trickled down her neck she released a strangled sound.
“He will come for me.”
Ero smiled and withdrew the knife. “You still have your faith,” he said. “A pity. I wager it will not last the night.”
Her eyes narrowed but it was the duke that scowled. “What do you plan on doing to her?”
“I don’t need to do anything,” Ero said. “I have placed myself—the most hated enemy of the cult of Skorn—with a former head of the same cult, who has become an overzealous thorn in his ambitions. How long before the cult comes for us both?”
The duke snorted at the statement. “We stand in the strongest fortress of Talinor. They cannot breach its walls.”
“I suspect they already have,” Beauty said.
She’d enhanced her hearing when she’d realized what Ero insinuated, and now heard the meaty thump of a body striking a castle floor. Realizing they had only seconds, she caught the duke’s arm and pulled him away from the door. Noticing the motion, Ero shook his head.
“The cult will not risk inciting Talinor against them,” Ero said. “They are here for Carvia and me.”
“In here,” Beauty said, all but shoving the duke into one of the bedchambers adjacent to the receiving room. “And barricade the door.”
“I will not hide like a rat,” the duke said, straightening.
“Then you will die like one,” she said acidly, and slammed the door in his face.
The duke’s guard pointed to the hall. “Can we not flee before they arrive?”
“No time,” Beauty said, listening to the approaching boots.
“They will not touch the duke,” Ero said as Beauty moved to the center of the room.
“You should have told me your plan,” Beauty said, drawing her sword and stepping to the door.
“I thought you would have figured it out,” Ero said in chagrin.
Beauty scowled but did not respond. Ero was right, but she had been so focused on an ambush that she had not considered what might happen once they were inside the castle. The duke’s guard retreated from the door and drew his blade, and a moment later a man appeared in the hall. Dressed in his customary golden robe, Alidon, the high abbot of the Church of Light, stepped into view with a score of soldiers at his back. In their midst, the leader of the assassin’s guild strode into the light.
“Hello Beauty,” Gallow said.
Chapter 24: Ero’s Staff
“Alidon,” Ero said. “I admit I did not expect you.”
“You walked into a trap,” the high abbot said. “I should thank you for making it so easy.”
The high abbot flashed a smug smile as soldiers filed into the receiving room. Her sword and crossbow in her hands, Beauty retreated, measuring the men. They were not common thugs, and she saw the scars and tattoos of combat littered on their flesh. They were Talinorian mercenaries, the best of the mercenary guilds. Marked by the silver bar above the sword and skull, the lieutenant smirked at Beauty’s worry.
Beauty’s eyes flicked to him but returned to Gallow. Although the mercenary lieutenant would undoubtedly be dangerous, it was Gallow she feared. Slim of build and young, Gallow didn’t look like an assassin, but a legacy of murders reflected in his black eyes. He was a predator, one that relished the kill.
“Captain Herrick’s soldiers,” Beauty said to Gallow. “Jack mentioned they’d contracted to Skorn. Did they bring you here?”
“Actually, no,” Gallow smirked. “It was the esteemed high abbot that informed me of Ero’s visit to Carvia.”
“You allied with him?” Beauty demanded, turning to the high priest.
Alidon’s smile widened at her fury. “Ero has perverted our ways, and Skorn generously offered to return the church to my leadership.”
“How benevolent of a devil,” Ero said dryly.
Carvia sneered at Ero. “I told you they would come for me.”
Gallow’s chuckle sent a chill through the room, draining the triumph from Carvia’s expression.
“You misunderstand,” he said. “We weren’t sent to free you . . . we were sent to silence you.”
Carvia looked like she’d been struck a physical blow, and she recoiled. Alidon laughed at her dismay and turned to Ero.
“They assured me it would be cleaner without my presence,” Alidon said to Ero. “But I insisted. I wanted to see your face, to watch you die.”
Beauty eased close
r to the duke’s guard, measuring the soldiers, gauging how many she could take before they killed her. With no room and no way out, escape was not an option. In her peripheral vision she spotted the duke’s guard, his face laced with fear.
“The king’s guards patrol this corridor every hour,” the man said, recovering from the sudden entry of the mercenaries. “They will kill you for your impudence.”
Gallow jerked his head. “A mistake in their paperwork means the guards that operate this shift were mistakenly sent home. No one is coming, soldier. But as much as I would like to kill you, that is not what we are here for. The thief, on the other hand, we are more than happy to gut.”
Ero began to laugh, the sound sending a current of tension through the room. “You think to best her?” he asked. “You have no idea the adversary you face.”
Beauty spared Ero a glance but he remained unafraid, excited even. Did Ero expect her to fight a score of proficient killers and emerge unscathed? The guard’s fidgeting indicated his lack of skill, and she couldn’t handle so many on her own. She tightened her grip on her sword and forced a smile, counting on the bluff.
“How many do I kill before you flee?” she asked.
“You mean to fight us alone?” Gallow said, and a smattering of smiles appeared on the mercenaries. Gallow held Beauty’s gaze, his sneer widening as he leaned forward.
“Who said she was alone?” Ero asked.
The sudden anger in his voice caused Beauty to glance his way—and saw light flowing from his hand, forming into a glowing staff. The Talinorian mercenaries shifted at the appearance of the weapon. Ero began to stride forward, the sheer power of his gaze causing some of the men to retreat.
“What are you waiting for?” Ero asked. “I thought you were supposed to be fearless.”
Gallow growled and leapt forward, driving his sword toward Beauty’s neck. The motion shattered the calm and the mercenaries charged. Facing so many foes, Beauty opted for a speed charm over strength, and magic surged into her limbs. Her reflexes spiked, her legs trembling with the yearning to move.
Giving in to the desire, she twisted as Gallow’s sword arced toward her, whipping her own blade up to parry. Then she ducked inside his guard, driving a fist into his chest, dropping her speed charm for strength. Her body slowed but her fist struck the assassin with the force of a rock troll hammer. The air exploded from his lungs and he tumbled backward, crashing into his men and bouncing off the wall, dropping to the floor.
