Using the stone wall for support, she pulled herself up from the floor. Weak from shock and nausea, she leaned against the tunnel wall, using the strength of the stone to compensate for the shakiness in her limbs. Once clear of the chamber, she hurried as fast as the darkness and her advanced pregnancy allowed. Without a torch, the stygian darkness of the tunnel was complete. Several times she twisted her ankle on a loose stone and fell to her knees, scraping the tender flesh from her hands when she landed. Why hadn’t she paid closer attention when Tiana brought her here? Ignoring the pain in her arms and legs, unaware of the tears streaming from her eyes, she continued her rush through the blackness.
The gradual lightening of the darkness from pitch black to foggy grey brought a bubble of hysterical laughter from her heaving chest. With every step toward the entrance, the light became brighter and brighter until she could make out the clouds floating in the sky above the sea. The wind wasn’t as fierce as it had been when she and Tiana entered the tunnel earlier this morning. Has it only been a few hours since our descent into Morandoni’s hell?
Pausing in the bright sunlight, Melodie filled her lungs with the clean, cold, crisp ocean air. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she leaned against an outcropping of rocks, willing the strength back into her legs. Uncertain how much time she had before Morandoni realized she was gone and unwilling to chance him catching her on the narrow ledge, she forced herself to start up the long, steep staircase. Gathering her skirts in one hand, she tossed them over her arm, freeing both hands to grip the railing. The wind no longer threatened to toss her into the ocean, but the narrow steps glistened with several inches of slick, polished ice.
Taking one step at a time, like a toddler just learning to climb, she started her ascent, counting the steps as she went.
“One. Two. Three.” She didn’t want to know how far she was from the top and she definitely didn’t want to remember how far it was to the bottom. The physical demands of carrying her distended body up the steep incline and keeping her balance on the slippery surface sapped what little energy she had left.
“Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight. Thirty-nine.” Her voice was little more than a ragged whisper as her lungs fought to draw enough oxygen into her exhausted body. Her legs shook from her exertion but her numb hands gripped the frozen metal rail.
“Forty-nine. Fifty.” She mouthed silently, no longer able to provide enough air for breathing and speech at the same time.
The brilliant white of the snow covered meadow was so unexpected it took Melodie several seconds before she realized she was looking over the rim of the cliff. Crawling on her hands and knees over the edge into the snow, she collapsed in tears. She made it. The horse still stood where Tiana left him. All she had to do was get the sleigh turned around and she could find help for Arica.
“M-e-l-o-d-i-e!” Roared the voice of Morandoni near the mouth of the tunnel. “You will not escape me!”
Struggling to stand, Melodie gathered her skirts above the knee-deep snow and stumbled toward the waiting horse. She couldn’t fail now. She was so close. Just a few more yards and she would reach the horse. Her frantic struggles through the snow caught the horse’s attention, making him dance nervously. She saw the flared nostrils and wide-eyed stare and knew the animal was going to bolt.
Whispering encouraging nonsense, she prayed the horse would stand still until she reached the sleigh. Her prayers went unanswered as Morandoni cleared the top of the cliffs, his below of rage the final assault on the horse’s high-strung nervous system. With a strangled cry of defeat, she watched the horse race across the open field, the empty sleigh rocking from side-to-side behind him. Why didn’t Tiana park the sleigh closer to the cliff?
“I told you I would never let you escape,” Morandoni yelled from across the frozen field, “but you didn’t heed my warning, did you?”
Melodie straightened her shoulders with effort and turned to face her nemesis. Like the tornado so many months ago in Missouri, she knew Morandoni was going to kill her. Only this time, JarDan wouldn’t appear in a flash of light to rescue her at the last minute. She would face the wizard with the same courage she used to face the storm -- the courage that came from faith. Her heart cried out for JarDan and the daughter she would never deliver.
“Kill me now, Morandoni!” Melodie yelled. “I will never go back down those stairs.”
Before Morandoni could reach her through the snow, she heard the sound of thunder so close it shook the ground beneath her feet. No. Not thunder. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Spinning around, she spotted two mounted horsemen racing toward her. JarDan and Dak! She prayed he would come and prayed he wouldn’t.
“JarDan!” Melodie screamed, pushing her exhausted body toward the advancing warriors.
“The game is not over yet, my Queen.” Morandoni called from his position behind her. “JarDan has answered my summons. My destiny will be fulfilled.” His diabolical laughter floated in the frosty, morning air.
In her relief at seeing JarDan, she turned her back on Morandoni -- and his plan to kill her husband. It was too late to warn him. They were close enough for her to see the flaming red eyes of the war horse glowing with menace through the fog of their heavy breathing, hear the creak of leather as riders shifted against saddles.
JarDan hit the ground running before the massive black stallion came to a complete stop. His sword drawn and ready. His eyes on his mate.
“Melodie.” JarDan whispered against her hair, his left arm pulling her tight against his chest. “I feared you would be … dead.” He could barely force himself to say the word. From the moment ArDell found the note pinned to Melodie’s pillow and summoned his father from the space station, JarDan had lived with the fear that he would be too late to save her. His brash declarations aboard the Destiny that his mate would never suffer the same fate as his mother haunted him across the seemingly endless miles,
“I knew you’d come.” She cried against the chain mail covered expanse of his chest. “And I prayed that you wouldn’t.” She looked up and he saw the anguish in her shadowed eyes. “It’s a trap, JarDan. He’s already killed Tiana.”
The earlier pain of discovering Tiana’s part in the plot against his family helped him deal with the added blow of her death. Tiana, his spoiled, bubbly, little sister, had paid dearly for her dreams of power.
“He used you to bait the trap.” JarDan acknowledged, rubbing his cheek against hers. “Did he harm you?”
“No. I’m cold and tired, but I’m okay, and so is the baby.”
JarDan stroked the side of her abdomen, feeling the strong movements of his daughter snuggled securely within Melodie’s body.
“Ah, the loving husband here to rescue his beautiful wife.” Morandoni smiled. “I didn’t expect you until later this afternoon. You made excellent time.”
JarDan turned until Melodie was no longer between him and the man who threatened his entire domain. Tightening his grip on his sword, he lifted the blade in preparation for battle.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Morandoni taunted. “So eager to meet you doom, JarDan. So,” the oracle focused his powerful gaze on the young king, “how is my dear brother, Zeth.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“My father is no longer a concern of yours, Uncle.” JarDan informed Morandoni in chilled tones. “You gave up that right when you killed my mother.”
“But JarDan,” Melodie interrupted, “she …”
“Dak.” JarDan ignored Melodie’s voice. He had to concentrate on the battle to come with his uncle. Never breaking eye contact with Morandoni, he handed his wife into Dak’s keeping. “See that Melodie is safe.”
Melodie’s soft cry of protest ripped at his heart.
“And Dak.” He added. “This is my fight. Stay out of it. If I don’t survive, do whatever you must to insure the safety of Melodie and the child.”
“You have my word, JarDan.”
“JarDan,” Melodie cried, “you have to listen. Morandoni didn’t …”
“Dak! Get her out of here!”
“You should listen to your queen.” Morandoni advised with a sneer. “She’s trying to save your life. Not that she has a chance of succeeding. Did you know that your mother was promised to me? The bonding agreement already signed and the celebration planned when our father decided to pass the crown to Zeth before Arica and I bonded. Once he was king, Zeth seduced Arica with the crown your mate now wears. She was mine, but she chose to be queen over the life we could have had together. You should have been my son -- not Zeth’s.” Morandoni’s hatred spewed forth like acid from his soul.
“My mother loved my father.” JarDan argued quietly. “That’s something you’ll never understand. She didn’t care about being queen any more than Melodie does.”
JarDan grabbed the hilt of his sword with both hands, readying himself for battle. “Are you going to talk me to death or are you ready to fight me as a man? On my mother’s grave, I vowed to kill you.”
Morandoni smiled as he stretched his arms wide at his side. “That is the beauty of this confrontation. I have no sword and your vow is as empty as my hand. Arica is alive, JarDan!” Morandoni shouted in delight. “She’s been my devoted companion all these years. Of course,” he acknowledged with a shake of his head, “I’ve had to take certain measures to insure she didn’t find her way back to Zeth, but she hasn’t complained.”
“You lie!” JarDan focused on the feel of his sword in his hands, pushing the numbing pain away before it became wild hope.
“Ask your lovely queen if you don’t believe me. She met your mother while a guest in my home.”
“He’s telling the truth, JarDan.” Melodie’s soft voice confirming Morandoni’s boast sliced like talons into heart. “She’s in a sleep chamber in the cave at the base of the cliff.”
A primordial growl rose in JarDan’s throat and exploded from his chest. His arms shook with the effort it took to contain his rage.
“Dak, throw this animal a sword.” He heard the sound of metal sliding and smiled coldly.
“JarDan, JarDan, JarDan.” Morandoni mocked as he accepted the sword. “Do you really believe you can defeat me with mortal weapons? I am an Oracle. My powers are far beyond those of that fool, Raiwan.”
With a flick of his wrist, and a few mumbled words, JarDan’s sword tip began to vibrate. As if heated in the blacksmith’s forge, the metal warmed until it glowed red with heat, spreading down ever closer to where he gripped the leather-wrapped hilt.
Plunging the blade into the snow, JarDan smiled flatly at his uncle. “Magician’s tricks? Is that the best you can do?” When his sword no longer hissed and sizzled in the melting snow bank, he raised it again.
With a careless shrug, Morandoni raised his own blade. “It was the first thing I thought of. I’ll do much better next time.”
JarDan laughed the sound empty and cold. “Fair enough, Uncle. I heed your warning. You remember that Dak and I studied the ancient writings as well, do you not? I believe I have a trick or two that might interest you, as well.”
“I’m impressed.” Morandoni bowed slightly as he and JarDan circled each other in the snow. “To show you and your loyal shadow that I will be a benevolent ruler, I’ll give you the first opportunity to show me your feats of magic.”
“You were too late in killing Raiwan. He lived long enough to pass along an ancient secret. A secret that will be your destruction.” JarDan lunged, swinging his blade against Morandoni’s.
“Yes, Tiana told me of your frantic search of the castle, seeking the answers to riddles.” He countered JarDan’s initial thrust with one of his own. “She also said you found nothing but your efforts made it so easy to insert that worthless scribble Melodie carries in her pocket. She was so eager to save your life that she never questioned if it were real or false.”
In a loud, clear voice, JarDan recited the ancient verse Raiwan whispered in his ear the night he died.
Take the good and lose the bad. Demand from him all that he had. My final breath into your soul will enable you to achieve your goal.
Passed down for untold centuries from one Ancient to another, the spell was punishment for taking the life of a brother Oracle. It cancelled all magical powers bestowed on the guilty Oracle for as long as the speaker lived. This was Raiwan’s final gift.
“You young fool!” Morandoni roared in helpless rage. “You have no idea what you’ve done! When did you locate the spell? Tiana kept me well informed of the activities in the castle and she assured me you still searched for the scroll.”
“There was never a scroll to be lost. The retribution was passed orally to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands.” JarDan thanked the Ancient Prophets the spell worked. Not even the strength of all his warriors could defeat an Oracle possessed of full powers and Morandoni had the added potency of his dark magic. Now, as a mortal man, JarDan would defeat him.
“The spell can only be used if the natural balance between good and evil is disturbed. You did that when you destroyed Raiwan the night of my coronation. His dying words were the ones he knew I would need to destroy you.” JarDan assumed his battle stance. “Now, fight me!”
“Your family will pay dearly for what you have done this day.” Morandoni promised as he prepared to meet JarDan’s attack. “When you die, my powers will return and I will have my full measure of vengeance. Every member of the House of Tor will die a horrible death and the future generations of Falcon Tor will suffer mightily for your arrogance.”
The slush of fresh snow melted by the rising sun and the footprints from their battle made maneuvering over the hard-packed older snow difficult. Sword clashed against sword as each man fought for an advantage, seeking the weakness that would assure victory.
Melodie bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying out every time Morandoni’s sword came too close to JarDan. For a man who spent the past fifty years relying on magic, he fought well. Amazingly well, considering he was twice JarDan’s age. When JarDan slipped on the packed snow, only Dak’s restraining arm kept her from rushing to his side.
“Do not distract him, Melodie,” Dak whispered against her ear, “and he will not lose this battle. You are his only weakness. The rest of the patrol is right behind us and should be here soon.”
JarDan regained his footing without missing a stroke and she released the breath she was holding. As the minutes dragged on and on, both men showed signs of fatigue. Muscles strained and bunched beneath their sweat-stained tunics as the men struggled against the bone-jarring effects of steel against steel. The King of Tor attacked, pushing Morandoni toward the edge of the cliff, JarDan’s ragged, labored breathing audible over the clash of the blades and the grunts of pain from Morandoni each time their weapons connected.
Suddenly Morandoni dropped and rolled to the side, coming to his feet several yards away from JarDan. “Melodie! No!” Morandoni called out.
Melodie watched in horror as JarDan turned in her direction. “No! It’s a trick! Don’t look at me!” She saw Morandoni’s intent, but she was too late. JarDan’s actions left him open to Morandoni’s attack and the Oracle’s blade caught him on the back of his head. She watched her husband slump to the ground in a lifeless heap.
“N-o-o-o-o!” Melodie’s scream startled Dak enough that she escaped his protective hold. Running and stumbling over the packed snow, she raced toward JarDan, Dak following close behind her.
“JarDan,” she whispered, lifting his head onto her lap, “can you hear me? Please wake up.” When she smoothed the hair back from his face, her hand came away covered in his blood. Rocking him gently, she cried her anguish to the heavens.
She was dimly aware of Dak lifting her from the frozen ground. Morandoni stood a few feet away. Leaning over with his hands on his knees, he struggled to draw air into his overworked lungs. So much pain. So much grief. And all because of one man. He had to pay for all he’d done. There had to be justice for those who suffered at his hands. Zeth and Arica. Tiana. She and her
unborn daughter. And JarDan. Her beloved JarDan who believed in her and thought she was beautiful. The man who gave his heart, and now his life, for those he loved.
Melodie stared at the sword in her hands. JarDan’s sword that she didn’t remember taking from his hands. Morandoni was too intent on recovering from the exertions of the battle to notice her slow advance.
“You have to pay.” She whispered, lifting the heavy sword above her head.
Morandoni looked up when he heard her voice and she knew the instant he realized he was dead. Without a word, she brought the blade down with all the force of her grieving heart. The look of surprise remained on Morandoni’s face as his head rolled across the snow and dropped over the side of the cliff.
Watching the blood from the wizard’s neck pool around her feet snapped what little control Melodie had left. Tremors shook her limbs and sobs racked her body as the horror of what she’d done registered on her numb senses. She had taken the life of another human being. No matter how evil, no matter what his sins were, she had killed a man.
“Give me the sword, Melodie.” JarDan whispered softly.
She jerked her gaze from the ground to the man standing in front of her. She couldn’t believe it.
JarDan. Covered with blood but alive.
JarDan. Smiling at her with his heart-stopping smile.
She lifted trembling fingers to touch the warmth of his cheek.
Wiping the tears from her face, JarDan gathered her close against his chest. “It’s over, my love.” He whispered, lifting her in his arms.
“Close your eyes. I’m taking you somewhere safe.”
Epilogue
JarDan never tired of watching Melodie play with Elizabeth. At six months old, everything that moved fascinated his beautiful daughter. Elizabeth seemed more interested in the dozens of butterflies that danced among the blossoms than in learning to sit pretty for her mother. The bubbling giggle of the little dark-haired baby never failed to twist his heart. They came so close to losing her.
The Men of Anderas I: Jardan, the King Page 26
