Wrath of the Usurper (The Eoriel Saga Book 2)

by Kal Spriggs

  “My scouts have reported that Lady Katarina's forces are already within the walls,” Kerrel said sharply. “So any of your men who don't withdraw will be killed.”

  Covle went pale at that. He had sent eight companies into the city and another two mounted companies to prevent reinforcement. He might well lose all of them if what she said was true. She gave him a cold nod as she saw the realization on his face. “Yes, Darkbit, you had better hope, for your sake, that most of them hear the signal, or else you will get to explain to Lord Hector how you lost all of your forces.”

  ***

  Lady Katarina Emberhill

  “I'm telling you, you shouldn't go in there!” The old servant waved his hands anxiously, “The Baron...”

  Katarina glared at the old man, angry enough to spit, almost angry enough to attack him physically. “Your 'Baron' is sitting in his room like a petulant child while mercenaries plunder his town and kill his people.”

  “Max,” Jarek said from beside her, “It's me, it's Jarek.”

  The old man's eyes went wide, “Master Jarek? But... we had heard you were killed when... when your father died.” He gasped the words out, but tears ran down his face and he embraced the young man. Katarina let them have their moment, but she felt impatience eat at her. She knew that the Baron of Zielona Gora was Hector's puppet, but she would have expected some response to what was happening here. Instead, she'd had to search the keep, wasting precious time.

  “Master Jarek, you have to tell her, the Baron... that is your brother, he isn't well!” the old servant said. He had an unpleasant whine to his voice, almost as if he were used to being beaten or shoved aside.

  “No, she needs to see him. She needs to understand,” Jarek said. He gently pulled the old man away from the door and then nodded at Katarina. She pushed the doors open wide and stepped into the bedroom. She froze though, as she saw the décor. It looked like a child's room, with stuffed animals, dolls, and even toys. The bed, against one wall, had a single occupant, a young man who looked up at her with a cheerful smile.

  “Did father send you?” he asked.

  “What?” Katarina responded with shock.

  “Father doesn't come very often anymore,” the young man said. “He sends Covle sometimes.” He gave a sigh, “I miss father.”

  Katarina stepped forward hesitantly. This was the Baron that Hector had appointed and that Covle had used as his puppet? She had expected some greedy noble, willing to sign away the lives of his people for more bribes, but not this. “You are the Baron?”

  “That's what Covle says!” the man said cheerfully. He frowned, “I miss father, did father send you?”

  Katarina looked over at Jarek. The young man stepped forward, “Brother, it's me, Jarek, you remember me, right?”

  “Jarek!” the man-child hurried over and embraced him. “I missed you. Covle said you were angry with me, that you didn't want to see me.”

  Katarina stepped away, a mix of horror and discomfort fighting for control. Already there were townsfolk gathered outside the keep, demanding the Baron's head for his collusion with Hector and Covle Darkbit. What could she do? Clearly he was a simpleton and Covle had taken advantage of him... but would the people out there understand that? They had lost their homes, their families, many had quite simply lost everything.

  She saw Jarek's eyes, haunted by the same knowledge. How could they fix this?

  ***

  As they walked down the stairs and away from where Jarek had stationed a pair of guards to secure his brother's room, Katarina moved on to the other subject that bothered her. “You know the nobility better than I, Jarek, what do you think of Joris?”

  “He's an ambitious sort,” Jarek answered after a moment, his voice somewhat subdued. “You've met his two sons. He had a daughter, rumor was he tried to marry her to Hector, but she killed herself before anything formal was announced.” He sighed, “She was a friend of Eustasia.”

  “Eustasia?” Katarina asked, puzzled.

  “Why yes,” Lord Jack said eagerly, “My sister. A more fiery young woman you'll never meet. She wanted to come to meet you in person, especially with how Jarek goes on about you. She and Jarek, of course, have spent a lot of time together because of their betrothal.”

  Katarina missed a step and nearly went tumbling down the stairs. “Their what?” She spun around on the steps and she was painfully aware of the shock on her face and the way her heart seemed to clench into a cold stone in her chest. Breathe, she told herself, don't forget to breathe...

  “Of course!” Lord Jack said quickly, “You haven't visited our lands, so you didn't know.” He swung his arm over Jarek's shoulders, “Lord Jarek is to be my brother-in-law. He's been betrothed for three cycles now, though he and Eustasia have agreed to postpone their wedding until after they've ousted Covle Darkbit and restored Jarek to his rightful place.” His smile grew broad, “But I'm certain now that that obstacle has been removed, they'll hope to arrange everything as soon as possible.”

  She looked over at Jarek, “Why didn't you tell me?” She was certain she could have put some bit of happiness in her tone, but instead it came out flat and angry, loaded with her sense of betrayal.

  Jarek looked at her with eyes that held the one emotion she didn't want just then: pity. “There just wasn't the right time to bring it up,” he said, finally. “After they rescued me, she and I spent a great deal of time together...”

  Lord Jack interjected, “He was wounded and would have died if Eustasia hadn't saved him. She's a skilled healer and, I dare say, that's how their romance first began!”

  Katarina gave him a pained smile, “Lord Jack, I wonder if you might do me a favor...” As he leaned in, she fought the urge to punch him right on his red mustache, “I seem to have forgotten to instruct the guards to only allow Jarek access to his brother, could you go and make certain they're aware? I wouldn't want any potential assassins trying to remove him.”

  He gave her a nod, “Of course!”

  As he ran back up the stairs, Katarina turned her angry gaze to Jarek, “You should have told me.”

  “I meant to,” Jarek said softly, “But there never was the right time.” He looked down, “Under other circumstances, Kat, I would have sought your hand... but first my father sent me south, then there was what happened to your family... Dragon's Bane, I thought you were dead! By the time I even learned you were alive, you were away in Marovingia, with no news if you would even return...”

  “So you set your sights on Lord Jack's sister?” Katarina couldn't help the venom in her voice.

  He looked up angrily, “Don't you say anything bad about her. She's smart and brave; I've seen her face an armed man, delirious with fever, and not only try to talk him down, but she disarmed him when words wouldn't work.” Jarek frowned, “Honestly, I think you two would be friends, good friends. And I didn't settle, before you even think it. I love her, Katarina, and while Jack might be... impetuous, he was right about one thing: I am going to marry her.”

  Katarina closed her eyes and she felt like someone had slammed a door in her face, closing away one more set of dreams and hopes. “I see.” She could admit to herself that even after accepting Joris's terms of alliance she had fancied some daydream of breaking it off and marrying Jarek. It would have none of the scandal of her feelings for Aerion and with their shared past, she had felt certain that she could make it work.

  “I'm sorry,” Katarina said, feeling miserable. She had been a fool, making assumptions without even asking him how he felt. How awful I must be, she thought, to put him in this position after he's seen what Covle Darkbit did to his home. More than that, he had seen her agree to her own betrothal, how could he expect her to break that off?

  He shook his head, “No, I'm sorry. There's too many secrets here and I feel like I've sprung them all upon you just in the past few minutes.” At his words, she thought again about his brother, the man-child who had allowed Darkbit to do terrible things here. What are we go
ing to do about him, she wondered desperately.

  She wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes. “Well,” Katarina said with as confident a tone as she could manage, “What would our parents say about this mess? It's a far sight worse than a bit of mud in the stableyard, isn't it?”

  He smiled at her feeble joke and then, suddenly, they were friends again. But only friends, Katarina thought, we can never be more than that. She matched his smile, even as she wanted to burst into tears again.

  ***

  Lady Katarina Emberhill

  Zielona Gora, Duchy of Masov

  15th of Karag, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering

  Lady Katarina felt tears run down her face as she watched the cart go past, filled with bodies. “How many?” she asked. The problem of the keep and its Baron had become minor in comparison to the many problems they had found over the past few days sifting through the wreckage. Her devastation at Jarek's confession seemed paltry in the face of the destruction wrought by the Usurper's men. Even her own betrothal to Earl Joris's son, Garrel, seemed a minor issue in comparison.

  Jarek shook his head, “We've counted over a thousand dead townsfolk so far. A quarter of the town is burned, so we'll be hard pressed to get many of the survivors in good shelter before the winter comes.” He closed his eyes, “The town militia took the brunt of the fighting, most of them are dead. The garrison, the ones who betrayed Lord Hector, fared a bit better, mostly because of better equipment and training, almost half of them survived, even their commander, though she's injured from what I hear.”

  Katarina rested a hand on his shoulder, “Jarek, whatever you need, whatever I can give you, you'll have it.” He nodded in response, but she could see that he didn't really hear her. The casualties were bad enough, but the brutality was horrible all to itself. Some of the bodies carried in that cart were pathetically small. Hector's mercenaries had killed indiscriminately, almost as if they were in a frenzy.

  Yet many of them had paid the price for it. Had they secured the town rather than beginning their festival of rape and murder, Katarina's forces might not have been able to get into the city in time. As it was, not only had they pushed the mercenaries back, but they had wiped out most of them before they could escape. She smiled savagely as she remembered the delivery of Grel's head, sent by one of Aerion's messengers. She, in turn, had ordered it to be delivered to the Ryftguard for Samen's company, made up of the survivors from Grel's attack on Watkowa Village.

  She had done everything she could to stop this war. Now she was going to do everything she could to end it quickly. Either Hector couldn't control his men or he didn't care. Either way, she had to put a stop to it, for this fight showed that his men were no better than the Armen.

  She looked over at where Cederic, Bulmor, Gerlin, and Eleanor stood. “Call the others together to the keep,” she said, her voice as hard as iron. “We're going to meet to discuss how to finish this war.”

  ***

  Epilogue

  Lady Katarina Emberhill

  Zielona Gora Barony, Duchy of Masov

  28th of Karag, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering

  The dining room was small, secluded and private, just as Katarina had asked. She stepped into the room to find her dining partner awaited her. His armsman stood behind him and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bulmor pause and evaluate the other man.

  “Lady Katarina, good evening,” Lord Garrel said. He quickly rose to pull out her chair for her and he gave her an eager smile. After dealing with his father, Katarina still didn't know if he was truly so quick to please or if he was a naturally deceptive man. In part, that was the purpose of this dinner.

  “Lord Garrel,” she smiled at him as she took her seat. Bulmor stood protectively over her shoulder, his face impassive. “I'm glad that you could join me for dinner tonight.”

  “Of course, I was very glad to hear you made some time for me,” Lord Garrel said eagerly. “My father has explained to me how important this alliance is...”

  Katarina's smile turned somewhat pained, “Yes, we can talk about that later, first, why don't we eat and you could tell me about yourself?” She waited patiently as the young man took his seat. In reality, she didn't care to know anything about him. Good man or bad, self-centered or selfless, she really didn't care. What she wanted was to share a private dinner with Aerion or Jarek, but Lord Garrel's father had made the terms of his support quite clear. He would not be satisfied with anything short of assuring his bloodline merged with hers. With his son as her husband, his grandson would be the next Duke.

  “Well,” Lord Garrel said with a flush, “There's not really much to tell, I'm afraid. I haven't really done much with my life. My brother, James, is the heir, I'm just sort of the extra son. I mean, you and I were betrothed when I was only two cycles old, but after your father was... well, after you went into exile, it was assumed that you wouldn't return.” He looked embarrassed at his social gaffe, though Katarina hadn't so much as twitched. He shrugged, “I, uh, turned to studies to keep myself busy. James has always been the warrior, you see, fighting the Norics and skirmishes with some pirates even.”

  Katarina sipped at her wine, “What kind of studies? Wizardry, magecraft?” Jarek had mentioned to her that he'd made a study of his family's runic and enchanted artifacts and he'd studied a bit of his families books to see if he might learn how to replicate them. Aerion, ever practical, had already put himself to work at the smithy, lending a hand with his free time. These were useful endeavors by useful men. Perhaps, just perhaps, young Garrel might measure up somewhat against them.

  “Oh,” Garrel shook his head, “Nothing that interesting, I'm afraid. I'm a naturalist. I just enjoy cataloging things, geology especially. I've done a great deal of work with mineral analysis, actually.”

  Katarina took a larger sip of wine and did her best to smile. “Oh, please, tell me more.”

  ***

  Captain Aerion Swordbreaker

  “Well,” Aerion's mother said with a sigh, “I suppose that puts an end to Aramer's hope for a peaceful solution, doesn't it.” She set her bow on the table and looked over at Aerion, “Though I'm glad you took care of Grel. Samen will be disappointed that he missed the opportunity, but at least he can put some of his anger to rest.”

  Aerion nodded, though the corruption of sorcery he'd seen in the man made him think he had done Grel a favor when he killed him. He looked at Cederic, “Have we heard anything from Aramer or about Commander Flamehair?”

  Cederic shrugged, “She's alive, anyway, so that tells us he managed to save her or get her to someone else who could. I've no idea what happened to him beyond that.” There was a darkness to Cederic's tone, part depression and part exhaustion, Aerion felt.

  “What is your problem?” Eleanor snapped. “First you disappear just before the battle and now you are as sullen as a child who has had his sweets taken away.”

  Cederic looked up, his colorless eyes grim. “My companion is dead.”

  “Seraphai?” Aerion asked in shock. “What happened?”

  “That I don't know. I tried to reach her, but the boundaries of the Wold lands are restored. Something happened there, some kind of attack... whatever it was, I sensed her under attack, a fight of some kind. She could have drawn her blade and survived but she chose to die instead.” The grief in his voice was raw and powerful.

  “Well,” Eleanor said, “I'm sorry, but surely your friend knew the dangers...”

  “You don't understand!” Cederic snapped. “I gave up everything for her. I walked away from my position, my training, I even disobeyed Noth to come here at her word, in the chance that we could turn around the fall of civilization and bring back the High Kings, just to free her from her curse.”

  Aerion's eye narrowed, “Wait, what did you mean by 'disobeyed' Noth?”

  Cederic's pale face went still paler. “I...”

  Eleanor stood up, her face dark with sudden anger, “You didn't come here as his emissary, did you?
You have no help, no guidance from him... you're here on your own?”

  Cederic looked away in the face of her anger. “It was the only way to save Seraphai.”

  “We can see how well that worked,” Eleanor grunted. “Tell me, are you even a powerful wizard or was that a lie too?”

  “I never lied!” Cederic protested and his head snapped around, “I am... was... a Shrouded Wizard. I studied under Noth... I do have far more knowledge than most wizards you'll find in these fallen lands.” His voice dropped in sudden despair, “But I am cut off from my normal sources of power and I can expect no help from Noth or any of his Disciples.”

  “Great...” Eleanor shook her head, “So that nonsense about mending the Starblade, was any of it true?”

  “It wasn't nonsense,” Cederic said. “It was from a book, written by Noth's hand, on how to best make the blade whole again.” He hesitated, “Even Noth wasn't certain whether it would work, but it was his best guess. His daughter, Seraphai, said it was the only chance.”

  “For what?” Aerion asked. He remembered his confrontation with the arrogant woman. Somehow, he found the desperation in Cederic's voice hard to reconcile with the proud woman.

  “To break her curse,” Cederic said. “Only a weapon of great power could destroy the blade she carried. Only the draw of something as powerful as its creator could break the binding of Andoral Elhonas's blade of power.”

  “So...” Eleanor's eyes went narrow, “You planned on her taking up the blade.”

  He shrugged, “Either that or having whoever could mend it use it to sunder her blade and free her of her curse.”

  Eleanor shook her head, “And now? What will you do now that your lover is dead?”

  Cederic just shook his head, “She wasn't my lover. If anything, she probably viewed me as a child. She was of the Viani and I'm... well, I'm just a common-born wizard who studied under her father. Even if I lived a hundred cycles, I wouldn't be more than a child to her.” He sighed and his head sunk. “I've committed myself to this cause, already. It would be... dishonest of me to abandon Lady Katarina and yourselves.”