Kian frowned. “I don’t get it.”
The group left the palace unseen and slipped quickly through the garden. “We need horses,” K’xarr said.
“Why? Let’s just climb the wall and get out of here. You all have wounds that need seen to, and I can tell that you feverish just by looking at you K’xarr.” It was easy to see the healer was irritated that his assistance was being ignored.
K’xarr’s body agreed with the Rhys, but he didn’t. “No, I plan to get to the Bluff before Havalon and his army of bastards. He just left a few days ago. We can travel much faster than his army does. We can beat him to the Bluff if we hurry, we just need some mounts.”
Just before dawn, the small group slipped into the royal stable and saddled some horses and headed to the southern gate. Kian had already killed the guards there and their bodies had not been found as of yet. So they simply rode away, leaving the fallen city behind.
K’xarr didn’t let them slow down until nightfall. A breeze was coming out of the south. The warmth it brought felt good to the haggard group.
They stopped long enough for Rhys to treat them and bind their wounds as best he could without any supplies. “K’xarr, I’m not happy with the way that arm looks, the wounds in your leg are clean enough, but the arm is infected and I have nothing to give you for it, and Cromwell is not in much better shape. If you would let me rest awhile, I could use my talent to treat your wounds.”
“We will be okay until we reach Braxton Bluff, Rhys. I’ll last a few more days. Don’t worry.”
Rhys’s lips tightened. “You have a fever. I don’t know if we can wait that long, General.”
“It will have to, we ride on.”
Rhys stomped to his horse. “You’re a foolish ass, General. I might be cutting that arm off when we get to the Bluff.”
K’xarr gave the healer a weary smile. “I have faith that you will find another way, my friend. I won’t be much use with one arm.”
“You’re not much use with two,” Cromwell said as he climbed up on his horse.
“And you’re of no use no matter how many arms you have, you brainless ox,” K’xarr said, glaring at the Toran. Cromwell laughed grimly and the group turned their horses and rode hard to the south.
Chapter 29
It took less than a week before the Bandaran people opened the gates for their Prince and his army. A huge battle ensued inside the city.
Havalon had left six thousand men behind to hold the city until he returned. It would have been enough to do the job if the citizens had not opened the gates and let the Bandarans in. In the end the Abberdonians just didn’t have enough men to keep Cain from retaking the city. They did make a good account of themselves, cutting the Bandaran forces down to less than fifteen thousand men.
Cain stood in the middle of the Great Market with Duke Blackthorn and Lord Justice Milara. The Bandaran people were overjoyed that the Abberdonians had been pushed out of their city. They were chanting “Prince Cain” over and over, giving the young man a hero’s welcome home. The Abberdonians had made them forget about Cain’s tax levies.
As Talorn approached to give his report, he saw anger written all over Cain’s face. It surprised the Bandaran general. He thought the people’s warm reception was just what Cain wanted. “What’s wrong, Majesty?”
Cain did not look at his commander, he clutched at the hilt of his sword as if he was trying to crush it. “Do you not hear them? Prince Cain? She has turned them against me. Your wife has stolen the people from me. How does she do it, Talorn? What is the secret that draws the people to her like flies to shit?”
“Majesty, they don’t know what has happened, they only know their Prince has saved them from the Abberdonians. They are unaware of the politics of the Kingdom. When things are settled and you retake the throne, everything will be fine. You will see. Once the Abberdonians are driven out of Bandara completely Raygan will most likely hand you back the crown without a word.”
Cain didn’t answer. He knew his sister better than Talorn did. She would never give the phoenix throne back to him willingly. He turned and hurried toward the palace. The three men watched him go without comment.
“Talorn, you should see to the army, make sure they are fed and billeted,” Duke Blackthorn suggested, ignoring Cain’s outburst and patting his son on the shoulder.
“I was just about to do that, Father. Uh, Lord Justice Milara, Your Eminence? Once I’m finished with my duties, I will start finding out what I can about the whereabouts of Half Elf. If he is in the city, my men will find him.”
Milara inclined his head toward the Talorn. “I thank you, General Blackthorn; I will be at the cathedral if you have need of me.” The Lord Justice gave Duke Blackthorn a knowing look and headed in the direction of the royal cathedral accompanied by Commander Deverall and his Knights of Deliverance.
“Father, I will talk with you later.”
“Fine, Son, that will be fine.”
Talorn shook his head, he could tell his father had other things on his mind. He pulled himself into his saddle and rode to where the majority of the army still lingered, awaiting his orders.
William stood in the square a bit longer with his personal guard, he didn’t hear his captain approach. “Glad to be back in Turill, sir?” Greyson asked.
The duke slowly turned toward the young officer. “Ah, Captain Kyle, nice to see you. You look no worse for wear. To answer your question, yes, it’s good to be back. I want you to know I will see you are rewarded for your efforts. Without you and my men, it would have been a much more difficult return to Turill. ” The duke turned away from his captain and gazed at the crowd of people that had turned out to see their Prince’s return. The civilians had begun to disperse and return to their daily activities.
Greyson could tell the old man was planning as he watched the men and women of Bandara carrying on with their lives. The duke’s mind was seldom at rest, he looked at every situation to find how he could make it benefit him. Greyson wished he had the duke’s insight. If he had he would be far more than a captain now.
“Greyson, I want you to bring a small group of our men and follow me.”
“Where to, my lord?”
“We need to go see the King. He is out of sorts and I have just the thing to set his mind at ease.” Greyson looked at the duke quizzically as he called for a squad of his best men.
***
Cain was sitting on the throne, he had tried to quell his anger but the more he thought about his sister, the angrier he got. He imagined wrapping his hands around her delicate throat and strangling the life from her. Prince Cain. How dare the people call him “Prince”? He was King, his birthright had been stole from him, were they too stupid to see that? They had readily accepted her as Queen. She had always been the people’s favorite, and she exploited that every chance she got. Raygan had gotten her way once again. “By God, it will be the last time,” Cain muttered through gritted teeth.
“May I have a word, Majesty?” William Blackthorn asked as he walked into the throne room. The self-proclaimed King had been so engrossed in his plans for revenge, he hadn’t heard the duke come in.
Cain motioned the duke in. He recognized the man with Blackthorn as the duke’s Captain Greyson Kyle, the man who had betrayed his sister. He was going to have the man charged with treason, but perhaps he should have him promoted instead. “What do you want William? I’m not in the mood for any nonsense.”
The duke put his hands behind his back. “I wanted to talk about your sister and those traitors out there calling you Prince Cain. I think the people of Bandara have forgotten who their King is. They have made it clear where their loyalties lie, sire. They have chosen Raygan over you.”
Cain gripped the arms of the throne. “Just what do you suggest I do, Duke Blackthorn? My sister has run away, she is not here to deal with. If she were, I promise you she would answer for her treachery.”
The duke raised his eye brows. “No, your sister is not here, but the peop
le who support her are. Believe me, Majesty, if your sister returns, we will have a problem. We have spoken about this before and what must happen regarding your sister. I have asked the Lord Justice to help us, but if his agents fail, we must be in control of the streets of Turill. We can’t deal with Raygan right at the moment, but the people can be taught a lesson now. They must learn who has the power in Bandara.”
Cain threw his arms in the air. “What would you have me do, hang them?”
“Why yes, Majesty, that is exactly what advice I would give.”
Cain slowly lowered his arms. The young Prince was shocked by the duke’s response. He thought for a moment, tapping his finger on the arm of the throne. No ruler of Bandara had ever done anything like that in the history of the Kingdom.
“Do you always want to be Prince Cain? If your sister escapes Havalon, do you want to serve her? The people are the key, you must show them who wields the power of the phoenix throne. Majesty, Bandara is your birthright, will you stand by and see it torn from your grasp?” The duke shook his head and shrugged. “Perhaps you will be satisfied to be known as the Phoenix Queen’s brother.”
“Have it done,” Cain shouted.
“Captain Kyle, if you would be so kind. I know this is a tough order, but see one thousand citizens are hanged from the walls, pick them at your discretion.”
Greyson was taken aback by the order, but he saluted and left the room.
“That should do the trick, Majesty. By tonight the people will know their King has returned.”
Greyson was waiting as the duke came out of the throne room. “Are you sure you want me to do this, Lord? The people will be furious and it will cause unrest in the city.”
Blackthorn patted him on the shoulder. “Yes, it will cause the citizens of Turill to hate the man that gave the order.” The duke smiled at his captain. “Greyson, just make sure you let everyone know it is in Cain’s name you’re doing this. Tell everyone it is on his order, understand?”
“Yes I understand, Your Grace.”
The duke gently pushed Greyson towards the door. “Then go, get it done, Captain.” Greyson put his head down and left, his footfalls echoing from the hallway.
William was pleased with this turn of events. He would have the Queen killed and blame it on Cain after hanging his own people for nothing but his own vanity, no one would question the Prince’s guilt. After the people find out he had their beloved Queen murdered, they would tear Cain apart. All he had to do was keep provoking the boy and that seemed all too easy. Once Cain and Raygan were dead and Havalon was defeated, that would leave Bandara to be controlled by the Blackthorn family. He smiled to himself, he would rule Bandara yet.
***
The Church was quiet. The five priests still tending to the magnificent cathedral worked in silence. Dracen had heard that the late King had built a fantastic church here in Turill, but he had no idea of its size and opulence. The Church was one of the largest and most ornate he had seen in his travels. Gold and silver icons adorned the walls and the pews were solid oak, and images from the Holy Tome were carved into the back of every one. Plush carpets covered the floor of the sanctuary and the stained glass windows were magnificent.
King Aaron had spared no expense on the impressive church. Dracen smiled to himself, all the riches belonging to the Church were still here. The Abberdonians had not touched them. Havalon was not a fool, no one stole from God, not even a King.
One of the young priests entered the sanctuary and gave the Lord Justice a slight bow. “There is a man here that wants to see you, Your Eminence.”
“Who is he, Father?” Dracen could tell the priest was nervous. He had most likely never been in the presence of a Church official of the Lord Justice’s lofty stature.
“He said he is the royal healer to Queen Raygan, his name is Finn Selmac.
“Why does he want to see me? One would think if he was the Queen’s physician, he would have fled to the south with her. What did he say?”
“Well, Your Eminence, he said he has information for you and you alone.”
Dracen shook his head. “Ah, of course he does.” Everywhere he went it was like this, there was always one that felt it was best to inform on his friends before they did the same to him. “Send him in, Father.”
The priest bowed and stepped out. A few moments later he returned, escorting the healer.
Dracen thought the man looked every bit the informer, beady eyes and a narrow rat-like face. “What do you want to tell me, Finn, is it alright I call you Finn?” the Lord Justice said as charmingly as he could. Dracen had always used an informant’s first name and tried to appear very personable and caring. It made them feel more at ease and more willing to tell what they knew.
“Yes, of course, Your Eminence, you can call me whatever you like.” The man seemed scared, he must think his information was important perhaps even dangerous. “Well, what do you want to talk about, Finn?”
The healer swallowed hard. “I wanted to tell you about the witches that were here and the people with blood black.”
The Lord Justice’s smile faded from his face. “Tell me everything you know, Finn, and don’t be afraid, I’m quite interested in the people with the strange blood. Tell me all about them.”
Over an hour had passed as Selmac told Milara what he knew about the Queen’s General K’xarr and his companions, the powerful sorcery that was used against the Abberdonians, and the monster called Kian.
Dracen kept a blank look on his face while Finn told his tale, although he was filled with a terrible anxiety as the healer went on with his story.
When Selmac had finished, the Lord Justice’s anxiety had turned to near panic, although he was still hiding it well. Things were much worse than the Holy Father thought. The Church itself was in grave danger. “You are sure those are the names they used?”
Finn nodded his head. “Yes, one night as I spied on them I heard those witches call someone the Mistress and mention the Reaper. Aren’t they old Death Gods, Eminence? Eminence, are you alright?”
Dracen realized he had lost himself in the ominous names. “They are old myths, nothing more.” The Lord Justice ran his hand through his hair, he was sweating, he wished he had time to pray. “Wait here, Finn, I shall return.” Dracen rose from the pew and headed towards the door. “Keep an eye on him and don’t let him leave,” Milara told one of the priests as he walked out of the sanctuary.
The Lord Justice entered what had been Bishop Lyfair’s private chamber. A man was there, leaning against the wall, cleaning dirt from his nails with a thin-bladed dagger. He wore the garb of a Hand of God. “Zachariah, I see you found your way in.”
The short man smiled, showing his rotten teeth. “Of course I did, Your Eminence, I always do.”
Dracen despised the man, always filthy and slovenly dressed. His breath smelled like a goat’s and he knew the man’s dirty mouse-brown hair had to be full of lice, but Zachariah was one of the best assassins in the Order of the Hand. “There is a man in the sanctuary, kill him and get rid of the body, and then we will have to talk about you paying the Queen of Bandara a visit. Duke Blackthorn made the request and he is doing a favor for me in return. There are several others that need to be dispatched as well. I will have a list made for you.”
Zachariah pulled and apple from his pocket and began to eat it, letting its juice running down his chin. “Why the man in the sanctuary?” the assassin asked, munching on the apple.
“It’s just important that it’s done.”
“I would like to know why, Your Eminence. I’m curious that way. You know I can keep a secret.”
Dracen was getting irritated with the Hand’s lack of respect and bizarre behavior. He hated dealing with the insane killer, but the Pope insisted he take Zachariah on his holy mission. “If you must know, he stumbled onto some things the Church feels do not need to be known by any common man.”
Zachariah threw the apple core on the large desk that sat in the c
enter of the room. “Good as reason as any, I’ll be back for the list.” The dirty assassin wiped his sticky hands on his pants and walked out of the chamber. Dracen could still smell him, even after he shut the door.
Zachariah looked at the priest and nodded towards the door. The young father almost ran out of the sanctuary. The repulsive assassin had a certain reputation even within the Church clergy. Many of the priests feared the filthy killer.
The healer sat in a pew rubbing his hands on his thighs. Zachariah thought the narrow-faced man seemed jumpy. “How are you friend, what brings you to God’s holy sanctuary today?” the assassin said, as he slid into the pew beside the frightened man.”
“I’m waiting for the Lord Justice to return. We have business together,” Finn replied, trying to sound important.
The assassin smiled and nodded, letting the healer see his nasty teeth. “What’s your name?”
“Finn Selmac. I am the royal healer.”
Zachariah clasped his hands together as if he were about to pray. “I knew a healer once, he tried to save my baby brother, but it didn’t work he died anyway. All my brothers and sisters died. Isn’t that odd?”
The healer looked back at the silver inlaid doors of the sanctuary. By the look on his face, he hoped someone would come and get him out of this conversation.
“Do you mind if I pray?” Zachariah asked his hands still clasped together.
“Not at all,” Finn said.
The assassin bowed his head, he could tell the healer was trying not to look at him, but couldn’t stop himself. Zachariah closed his eyes and sat quietly for a moment feigning prayer. The filthy man slowly opened his eyes and turned his head towards the royal healer. “Do you know what God just told me?”
“No,” the healer said, slowly scooting down the pew away from Zachariah.
“He said it was time for you to die.” The assassin pulled a hidden dagger from his sleeve and thrust it into Finn’s throat so hard he crushed the healer’s wind pipe. Over and over, he stabbed the healer. Blood flew all over the beautiful oak pews of the holy sanctuary.
Gods Of Blood And Fire (Book 1) Page 52
