by C S Vass
Rodrick’s eyes were shaking in his head. One of the soldiers tried to break through the Vaentysh Boys and flee, but there were too many. Laughing, they kicked him to the ground.
“Yet even now you don’t have enough honor to try to stay and talk to me. Maybe I didn’t give you enough swords? Was that the problem?” Rodrick shouted the last word as he shoved a long thin blade between the soldier who fled’s ribs. The man died instantly.
“It is not too late for us to work out some sort of deal,” Raejo pleaded. “We both mad mistakes. You are not official ambassadors—not yet at least! But it was wrong of us to deceive you. Wrongs on both sides, you see? Let me see you on the way. You will have silver, and ships.”
Rodrick paused at the mention of silver and ships to get back to Tellos. His eyes were on Krune. “Will we, old man? I know you’ll happily give us ships to see us on our way from this shit-hole swamp, but will we have silver on them to take with us?”
Krune was barely capable of speaking. A giant black bruise had swallowed half of his face and was still growing. “Yes… of course, Lord Rodrick.”
“Lord Rodrick,” Rodrick said, turning to his men and laughing. “You hear that, boys? Finally some respect. I wonder what made them come around?”
“It’s a mystery,” a thin Vaentysh Boy with red hair laughed. “From the looks of it, he has enough respect to row us back to Tellos himself. Is that right old man? Want to go on a trip with us?”
The Vaentysh Boys laughed while Krune struggled to do anything besides stammer.
“You will make the arrangements, my good Lord Raejo?” Rodrick said. “I trust you’ll do so immediately. Your festivities here have been so unfortunately interrupted so I imagine you have time to pull together some resources.”
“Of course,” Raejo said. But now there was more bitterness in his voice than fear.
“Splendid. We’ll keep the castle until then, naturally, and afterwards be on our way. There will of course also be a hefty weregild to pay. I’m sure you can understand we’ve suffered grievous injury at your hands that needs restitution.”
Raejo open and closed his mouth like a fish. “A… lor… the practice of demanding weregild’s hasn’t been done on Morrordraed for at least a century.”
“Fascinating,” Rodrick said as he turned. “Well you’ll know all about how my men and I love the restoration of ancient traditions. We’ll settle a price after I see how generous you are with the silver you already owe us. Oh, and I almost forgot.”
Rodrick pivoted on his feet and placed his blade directly into Krune’s stomach. He did so expertly, and not in a place where the old man would die at once. “I know you’re the one who really decides things around here. That all stops. Need to be sure my payment isn’t tampered with. All the meddling that’s been done so far has your stink all over it.”
Krune gasped and roiled on the floor as another Vaentysh Boy entered. “Lord Rodrick,” he said. “We’ve located them. They’re staying in Barrowbog, in the house of some dead man.”
Rodrick nodded while Fiona struggled not to make a sound. “Very good. I’ll take a small retinue with me to the village. Keep things safe for me here.” He began walking out of the hall.
As he left he said, “Raejo lives. Kill the others.”
Chapter Nineteen
They stayed behind the throne for a long while after the room cleared. Raejo was forced out at the point of a sword by the Vaentysh Boys, who didn’t want him getting any funny ideas about escaping without fulfilling his commitments.
Fiona’s head was swimming as she tried to digest the events that had just unfolded. She felt intellectually crippled while Jet whispered to her about plans to slip out of the palace. He didn’t understand, of course. How could he understand?
“That was Rodrick. That was my brother.”
“What?” Jet’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? That was him?”
“Yes,” Fiona said. Now was not the time for emotions. She took a deep breath. The pain in her stomach subsided, but only to be replaced by a new round of aching in her recently relocated shoulder. “And he knows that Geoff and I are at your house. He’s going to go there. We have to head him off before something bad happens.”
“It’ll be okay,” Jet said, though he looked like he thought anything but. “I left Grappa to watch over Geoff. He’s capable.”
“So is my brother,” Fiona said. “We need to go.”
“We need to get these damn irons off,” Jet said.
It was true. They were in no position to help with their hand clasped together with barely an inch of room between their wrists. They would need to escape their chains, escape the castle, and journey across the swamp before they could be of use to anyone.
“Well, we’re not going to get any closer to freedom by staying in here,” Fiona said. “The longer we wait, the more the chaos will calm down and the less likely we’ll be to get out of this place.”
“Agreed,” Jet said. They took their weapons from one of Raejo’s dead soldiers and proceeded towards the door.
Outside the castle courtyard had been transformed into a graveyard. Dozens of dead soldiers and Vaentysh Boys littered the yard, and there were small fires in every direction. Annoying as the plumes of smoke were, they probably helped disguise Fiona and Jet as they crept through the wreckage.
They made it back to the courtyard only to find Vaentysh Boys fighting with Raejo’s men at the gate. Ducking down they doubled back around to search for an exit. Through the smoke a voice called out.
“This way!”
Deciding to take the chance Fiona and Jet cautiously moved towards the sound.
“Quickly, quickly,” the voice continued. Smoke filled Fiona’s lungs as they moved through. She feared where they might be going, but she also feared what lay behind her. The kept following the voice that urged them on until they reached a portion of the wall that had collapsed. They ran through it.
On the other side was the husband who had turned them in.
“You!” Fiona roared.
“Sh!” he hissed. “Not here. Come with me, quietly.”
“You nearly got us hanged!” Jet growled.
“I didn’t have a choice,” the man said. “Consider this my apology. Come on, there’s no time damnit!”
Without waiting for them to respond he hobbled off towards the outskirts of town.
“He’s just one man, and he doesn’t look strong enough to take us on his own,” Fiona said.
“He’s probably got twenty soldiers waiting for us wherever he’s going!” Jet said.
Fiona shook her head. “I don’t think so. I don’t think they have any soldiers to spare at the moment. My gut says to follow him.”
Without waiting for Jet’s agreement she made off after the man. She heard Jet huffing as he followed behind her.
They made their way beyond the sight of fires and past fields until the land grew marshy. It was nearing mid-morning, but the sun was concealed behind a thick layer of clouds. When they made it to a small house in a secluded grove, the man stopped.
“Here,” he said. “You may have safety and rest here for a time. I apologize for turning you in. I had no choice. One of my friends warned me that a guard had seen. If I didn’t turn you in it would have been the noose for me.”
“Better us than you then, is that it?” Fiona said angrily.
“I’m only human,” the man said. “Our son needs us. Aye, I chose my own family over the lives of strangers and I would do it again. What would you have of me? I saw you when I did and risked my life to pay my debt.”
Fiona was ready to continue yelling at the man but Jet placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Thank you,” he said. “You were in a hard position and we appreciate you coming to our aid when we needed it.”
The man nodded.
“We need to get these shackles off,” Fiona said. “Can you help us?”
He nodded. “Come out back with me. I can indeed help.”
>
They marched around the back of the house past two sleepy looking horses in a small make-shift stable. Fiona thought she saw the wife’s head for a fleeting moment in the window, but it quickly disappeared. He picked up an old hatchet embedded in a stump.
“Shouldn’t take more than a swing or two.”
Fiona gulped. “Maybe we should do this for ourselves.”
“My aim is true, girl,” the man rasped.
Jet stepped forward. “Do you really want to be the one responsible if one of us should lose a hand?”
The man bristled. He looked at their shackles and seemed to consider how close together their hands were bound. “Well, alright then. Be careful. I’m not equipped to go sewing hands back onto arms should you aim poorly.”
“I’ll do you first,” Fiona said.
“You seem eager,” Jet observed.
“I’d rather have the one with the better aim go first so we can at least have one of us free, should you end up removing my arm by accident.”
Jet huffed but didn’t say anything. He placed his hand on the log and Fiona smashed the hatchet into the irons without so much as a warning. They blasted apart instantly.
“We’ll need a lock pick to get the actual cuffs off, but at least now you can use your arms.”
“I never liked jewelry,” Jet said, frowning as he looked at his iron bracelets.
“Your turn.” She handed him the hatchet and looked at him nervously. “You can do this, right?”
“Of course I can do it,” Jet snapped. He took a step forward, but looked uncertain.
“Jet, if you can’t do it then—”
He didn’t let her finish because he brought the hatchet down with a crashing blow. Fiona tumbled backwards just in time to prevent her wrist from being severed off.
“Hell, Jet!” she screamed. “You almost killed me!”
“You moved!” Jet yelled back. “It would have been a clean blow if you had just stayed still.”
“I’d be learning to fight with my left hand if I just stayed still. Sorry rookie, you’re out.”
Jet snorted but handed the hatchet over to their host. He lined up and took a few slow measured practice movements to be certain of his angle. He brought the blow down cleanly, but not hard enough to break the iron chain. His second strike was the same. On the third she was free.
“Thank you,” she said to their host. “I’m happy to consider us even now.”
He nodded. “Come on in then, before someone sees you.”
Fiona smiled and shook her head. “Sorry. We have somewhere to be.”
She expected the man to put up some sort of resistance or warn them to stay until the danger had passed, but he merely shrugged.
“Wait,” Jet said. “Sir, we’re in a great hurry. I’ve already given you silver. Allow us one favor.”
“This will be the last one I suppose?”
Jet smiled and looked to the horses. “It will.”
* * *
They raced through the forest like lightning. Now that they were free of their chains Fiona’s thoughts turned to Geoff, helpless and sick, with her mad brother hunting him. She wouldn’t let him. Rodrick had taken so much from her already. She wouldn’t let him take Geoff.
They rode in silence at a quick gallop. Whenever they had to slow down to maneuver through some part of the marsh, Fiona would catch Jet looking nervously at her. It was mid-afternoon by the time they reached the edge of Barrowbog.
They approached Harken’s house—no, Jet’s house she realized—cautiously. Perhaps they had arrived first and would be able to slip off before Rodrick found them. As the thought occurred to her Fiona wondered if that’s what she wanted. She was going to die soon, this would likely be her last chance to avenge everyone that Rodrick had hurt.
“No,” Jet’s face turned white. They had dismounted and approached the house. Grappa, the rebel Jet had left with Geoff, lay against a tree. He was unconscious, but when Jet checked him he was still okay.
Fiona couldn’t bring herself to speak. They were too late. Rodrick and his men had already come through. She felt sick, her stomach was a spiral of pain and her shoulder throbbed terribly.
They were about to go into the house when they heard a voice by the stream nearby. Creeping slowly, they walked back. Fiona was surprised to see Rodrick and Geoff facing each other.
Geoff was standing, but there was a misty look in his eye. He spoke. “These dreams of fire will turn the world to ash. But your judgement is not for me to pass Let it end.”
They charged each other, swords drawn.
“No!” Fiona screamed.
It was over in one stroke.
Rodrick’s blade slid past Geoff’s and slipped across the old knight’s chest. Geoff Hightower fell at once.
“Farewell, teacher,” Rodrick said.
“You bastard!” she screamed. Fiona waited for nothing. Forgetting all sense of pain in her stomach, all sense of pain in her shoulder, she charged. The demon-pommel blade screamed as steel met steel.
Rodrick fought clumsily. Something was off. His blows were still more powerful than hers, but they crashed down slowly and she was easily able to dodge.
“Why,” she screamed as she sent a dozen piercing blows at his chest, over and over. “Why? Why? Why!”
“Is that all you have to say to me?” he sneered. “After everything you’ve gone through. After hunting me like a dog for two years. After mutilating your own body just to get your revenge. And all you can ask me is why?”
“I hate you!” she yelled as his blade came horizontally to sweep her head. She thrust herself backwards—too quickly—and hit the dirt with her elbows. Maintaining momentum she was able to spring herself upwards and slash diagonally to cut him from neck to waist. Rodrick parried and punched her hard in the stomach. The wind left her body, and she stumbled backwards.
“You don’t know what you hate,” he said condescendingly.
Fiona saw that behind him Jet had pulled Geoff aside and was tending to him by a tree.
“Tell me,” Rodrick went on. “Did you find the psychic Naerumi? Was she able to heal you?”
Something about the way he asked made Fiona certain that he already knew the answer to those questions. “What does that matter to a dead man?” she asked.
Rodrick laughed, a grim hollow sound. “I can feel it in you. The poisons of a broken magic, coursing through your veins. It will end you soon. Just as it will for me.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I was arrogant, little sister. I meddled in magic that was beyond me. The manjeko that I took from you, it will serve me no better than you. We share the same fate.”
“Good!” she yelled.
He laughed again. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to understand. I was born with such unusual ability. Such great power. But every cause that would use that power would be unworthy.”
She scoffed. “Maybe the one who’s unworthy is you. Maybe you’re not as strong as you think.”
To her surprise he looked humbled. She had not seen such a look on his face in a long time. “I think you’re not wrong,” he admitted. “But it’s far too late to fix that.”
A glossy look came into Rodrick’s eyes. The wind rustled the leaves. “I tried so hard to protect you, Fiona. Throughout those years we spent together in Haygarden. I tried so hard to protect you that I forgot to protect myself. I let the world turn me into something cruel and terrible. I thought it was to give you a place of safety in comfort. A castle with strong walls to keep out the storm. Even as I did that, I built a house of bones to be knocked over at the lightest wind.”
“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “You’re not making any sense, and if you think I want to reminisce with you about Haygarden, then you couldn’t be more wrong.”
“It’s time you knew the truth.” He looked at her with eyes like sharpened knives. “It’s time you knew the truth that I tried to keep from you. Gods forgive me. I
never wanted you to know. But I cannot keep this from you. You deserve the truth now.”
Fiona’s eyes narrowed. Rodrick could not be trusted. He was up to something. She knew it.
“It begins a long time ago, Fiona. Back before we were born. Back when an extremely powerful psychic from Morrordraed came to Tellos with tales of an incredible vision.”
“You can’t mean…”
Rodrick nodded. “Naerumi came to Haygarden twenty-some years ago. Her reputation in court was well known then, and she was allowed to speak with the Duke. You see, Naerumi had a powerful vision. She had seen it in both the water and the stars. She came invoking the Law of Destiny.
“Naerumi came to court claiming that a child of destiny would soon be born. She saw the child born to a poor man in the Lordless Lands. A child with eyes as green as the forest, who would grow to be a powerful warrior. It was this child’s destiny to pass through many trials of life and death, travel to Morrordraed, and change the world forever.
“The next year I was born. Duke Redfire took the prophecy seriously and had his agents keeping careful track of births in the Lordless Lands. When I was old enough for my eyes to turn green, they added me to a list. Green eyes are not so terribly uncommon.
“But my abilities were. It became obvious to the Duke that I was this Child of Destiny. Naerumi had advised him not to interfere with my upbringing. There was a discussion with our parents. It was agreed that when I reached the age of ten, I would be sent to Morrordraed.
“Before that happened, you came along. No one suspected that the prophecy had been misinterpreted. After all, I fit the description perfectly. But you too started showing signs of incredible power, and the forest green eyes just like me. Our father had a wrinkle of doubt.
“Naerumi came to claim me when I reached the age of ten, but by then there was enough uncertainty about who the prophecy was meant for that she decided against taking the wrong child. She claimed it didn’t matter, that the Law of Destiny was infallible and that the true child would come.
