by Clayton Wood
“What?” Jax replied. He walked up to Kyle and Kalibar, staring down at Xanos's headless body. Gasps of amazement echoed throughout the suite.
“Kalibar!” Jax exclaimed, grabbing Kalibar's shoulders and grinning broadly. “How in blazes did you manage to kill that ungodly bastard?”
“I didn't,” Kalibar admitted. “Darius did, with Kyle's help. And Kyle's ring saved all of you,” he added.
“Kyle's ring?” Jax asked. “What ring?”
“It's a long story,” Kalibar replied with a sigh. “But Kyle used a runic Darius had given him to take away Xanos's shields, so Darius here could finish the job.”
Jax turned to Darius, who shrugged.
“All I did was stab him through the heart and cut off his head,” the bodyguard stated humbly.
“Then we all owe you...the Empire owes you...a debt of gratitude it can never repay!” Jax exclaimed, walking up to Darius and shaking his hand vigorously. Darius raised an eyebrow.
“It's not even going to try?” he quipped. Jax smirked.
“Oh, don't you worry about that,” he replied with a chuckle. Kalibar chuckled as well for a moment, then froze, looking suddenly panicked.
“Wait, where's Ariana?” the former Grand Weaver asked.
“She's okay,” Kyle answered, fabricating a story about how his ring had somehow saved them both from certain death. Two of the guards in the room were immediately sent to retrieve Ariana. After the guards had left, all of the Councilmen migrated toward the body of the fallen Xanos, forming a ring around the headless corpse. Erasmus knelt over the decapitated head, prying the green crystal from Rivin's skull. A large crack ran down the center of it, and it looked dull, no longer translucent. The former Grand Runic stood up, inspecting the elongated gem. He looked up after a moment, shaking his head.
“Its runes are completely destroyed,” he stated, offering the crystal to Jax. Jax took it, and stood over it for a moment. Then he nodded.
“Indeed,” he said with a sigh. “There must have been a clause within its patterns, to self-destruct in case of its owner's death, to prevent reverse-engineering.” He handed the crystal back to Erasmus, then frowned, scanning the room. “Wait...where's the assassin?” he asked. Everyone looked about, but the man who had murdered Rivin and Bartholos was nowhere to be seen. They did find Orik however, still lying unconscious on the floor.
“Take him,” Jax ordered. “I want him sent to Stridon Penitentiary, to solitary,” he added. The guards nodded, carrying Orik out of the suite.
Kyle sighed, walking over to one of the large marble columns rising from the floor, and leaned against it. He felt a heavy, metallic hand on his shoulder, and turned around. Darius stood beside him, nodding tersely at his young friend.
“You did good, kid,” the taciturn bodyguard said. “I'm proud of you.”
Chapter 25
The aftermath was extraordinarily efficient.
Jax called a few dozen guards to Rivin's former chambers, and they removed the damaged furniture, placing magical shields across the wide expanse of shattered windows to protect the room from the elements. Rivin's corpse was removed, to be studied by Erasmus and other high-level Runics at a later time. Kalibar, Ariana, and Kyle – as well as the entire Council and members of the elite guard – were taken by elevator to the medical ward, where they were treated for their wounds. This mostly involved getting them rinsed out with magically produced – and therefore perfectly sterile – water, then putting balm-tree sap in them. Despite everyone's insistence, Darius flatly refused to undergo any medical workup or treatment, saying that he was just fine, dammit.
Given the option to go to sleep or sit in on an emergency meeting the Council was having, Kyle and Ariana both decided that they were far too revved up to go right to bed. That was how, within a few hours, Kyle found himself on the 40th floor, in a large conference room with a big round table in the middle.
Every member of the Council was present – except of course for Orik, who was busy being unpleasantly interrogated. They all sat in a circle, facing each other. Kalibar got to sit in Rivin's chair. Kyle sat in a chair in the corner of the room, and Ariana sat next to him, looking lovely as usual. He'd told her everything that had happened, save for the details of her rescue after falling from the Tower. He let his ring take all of the credit for Ampir's heroics. Ariana, to her credit, took it all amazingly in stride.
The Council spent an inordinately long time discussing the attack, going through each moment in agonizing, sleep-inducing detail. They pondered the origin of Xanos, submitting pieces of the crystal that had been lodged in his skull as evidence. Unfortunately, Erasmus's initial analysis of the crystal had been correct; it was beyond repair, the secrets it held utterly destroyed.
“I believe Xanos is still very much alive,” Kalibar was saying. “The Dead Man had a similar crystal lodged into his brain.” He shook his head, his expression grim. “If Xanos can make more Dead Men so easily...” He stopped then, letting the sentence hang in the air. Everyone's expression was as grim as the former Grand Weaver's.
“I still can't believe that Rivin was actually brought back from the dead,” a balding man in black added. “Not even the Ancients had such power! How can we fight a man who can resurrect the dead?” There were nods all around. Jax frowned, rapping the knuckles of one hand against the table.
“Agreed,” he muttered. “And if there are more of these Dead Men, or if Xanos can simply make more through the power of these crystals, then we are in no less danger than before. What if Xanos decides to send a dozen Dead Men next time?” He regarded his fellow Councilmen, who sat back in their chairs, troubled looks on their faces. Kyle felt the giddy sensation he'd had for the last hour seep away. The thought of Xanos striking again, with an army of Chosen no less, was sobering indeed.
“What truly frightens me,” a white-robed man to Kyle's left said, “...is that Orik nearly became Grand Weaver, and one of Xanos's men was able to infiltrate the elite guard unnoticed.” There were nods all around at this; Grand Weaver Rivin himself had been unaware of his personal guard's deceit.
“We must investigate every man, woman, and child within our gates,” a black-robed man with slicked-back black hair and a formidable beard said. “If Orik and this guard managed to infiltrate the upper ranks of the Secula Magna, there could be others.” Most of the Councilmen nodded at this. Kalibar was not among them.
“I agree with scanning all citizens for these green crystals,” he replied, “...but it will be all but impossible to root out the Death Weavers among us, if there are any besides Orik. We cannot rely on such investigations alone to ensure our security.”
“Nevertheless, it is a start,” Jax stated. We'll clear a group of our most trusted men ourselves,” he decided. “Then they will search everyone in the Tower. We'll expand outward from there.”
“Agreed,” Erasmus replied. He turned to Kalibar. “Any other ideas, Kalibar?”
“We must prepare for an inevitable assault on Stridon,” Kalibar answered. “We'll have to recall the bulk of our military,” he added. “We can hold most of our borders with a skeleton crew, and use the bulk of our army to defend our major cities.”
“Won't that embolden our neighbors?” a younger Councilman asked politely. He clearly knew of Kalibar's extensive military background; the question had been asked reverently, for the purposes of enlightenment. Kalibar shook his head.
“Our Battle-Weavers can quite believably create the illusion of larger numbers. I employed such tactics with great success in the past when forced to retreat from enemy lines.”
“What about this Death Weaver base near Crescent Lake?” Jax asked.
“We should send our Battle-Weavers there,” Kalibar replied, drumming his fingertips on the table. “That was Grand Runic Bartholos's plan before he was murdered, and I agree with it. Our Battle-Weavers could fly there and make it by late morning, and strike while they remain leaderless. If Xanos sends another Dead Man before we atta
ck, we'll suffer extraordinary losses.”
“Agreed,” Jax replied. Erasmus nodded as well. Kalibar frowned suddenly, then pushed his chair back from the table.
“I apologize,” the former Grand Weaver said. “I am not a member of the Council. I should not be interfering.” Jax looked at Kalibar with a puzzled expression on his face.
“Kalibar, you are our most decorated war hero, and a most honorable former Grand Weaver. I do think you've earned your place at this table.”
“I don't mean to dominate the discussion,” Kalibar continued apologetically. “You are of course the senior Councilman,” he added, nodding deferentially at in Jax's general direction. The chief Runic snorted.
“Well you'd better damned well get used to it,” Jax replied with a scowl. Kalibar frowned, his eyebrows knitting together.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Jax replied, “...you'd better get used to bossing us around again, because that's exactly what we'll be expecting you to do from now on.”
Jax stood up from his chair then, facing the Council.
“I hereby submit to the Council,” he declared, “...my nomination of Kalibar for Grand Weaver!”
Kalibar's mouth fell open.
Another Councilman stood. “I second that nomination,” he exclaimed. Soon, every member of the Council – without exception – had risen to their feet, endorsing Kalibar.
“Please,” Kalibar said, rising slowly to his feet. “I must respectfully decline your nominations.” Jax frowned at Kalibar.
“And why is that?” the elder Runic inquired.
“I'm not fit for duty,” Kalibar answered, pointing to the red bandanna covering his empty eye sockets. Jax snorted.
“Like hell you're not,” he replied. “We need your brain, not your eyes. Besides, soon you'll have more eyes than you'll know what to do with,” he added with a smile. Kalibar sat back down in his seat slowly, folding his arms in front of him on the tabletop. He lowered his head for a moment, then gave a wry smile, shaking his head.
“You know,” he stated, “...a week ago, I would have told you all right where you could shove your nominations.” There were chuckles across the room, and Kyle saw Erasmus winking at Jax. Kalibar's expression turned suddenly serious, and the chuckling died away.
“But now,” Kalibar continued, “...after watching these terrorists torture my family and murder my friends, I can't imagine going back to my home in Bellingham. When I die, I want to do it knowing I did everything I could to protect the people that I love.” He paused for a moment, then turned back to the Council, giving them a slight bow. “I accept your nominations.”
“Excellent,” Jax replied. Then he turned to Erasmus. “You're not going to put up a fight too, are you?” he asked. Erasmus chuckled.
“Not a chance,” he replied. “If Kalibar is in, I'm in.”
“Then it's decided,” Jax declared. “The Council is unanimous. We vote for Kalibar and Erasmus for Grand Weaver and Grand Runic. The public will vote in one week!”
* * *
The Council adjourned, with most of the Councilmen leaving to carry out the various tasks assigned to them. Kalibar insisted on staying to discuss the details of the Tower's defenses, but Jax and Erasmus would have nothing to do with it; they demanded that he have a good meal, and then go to sleep. When Kalibar resisted, Jax told him quite crossly that he wasn't Grand Weaver yet, and he was hereby ordered by the Council to get some shut-eye, damn it.
And so, Kyle found himself taking the elevator up a floor with Kalibar and Ariana, making their way to Kalibar's suite. Of course, Jax and Erasmus weren't about to risk the life of their future Grand Weaver; they sent an elite group of guards to escort them all. Kyle got to hold Kalibar's arm and guide the blind man to his room. When they walked through the front door, none other than Darius was sitting on one of the couches, gorging himself with a steaming hot plate of roasted meat. The minute Kyle smelled the delicious aroma of real, honest-to-goodness food, his stomach growled so loudly that everyone else – including the elite guards – could hear it.
The guards stood watch outside the room, closing the door. Kalibar ordered dinner for everyone, which of course was roast duck – the same meal they'd eaten that first night at the Tower. They all piled on the couch around Darius, waiting impatiently for their meals to arrive. Ariana even swiped a piece of meat from Darius's tray with her quick fingers, earning a murderous glare from the bodyguard. Luckily he'd already ordered his second plate, so he took the theft in stride.
At long last – really only a couple of minutes, but it seemed like an eternity to Kyle – none other than Jenkins arrived at the door, carrying a huge silver platter. Four big plates filled to the brim with roasted duck and other delicacies lay on the platter. It was fair to say that Jenkins had never before received a more delighted and boisterous greeting than when he placed that tray upon the table in front of them! Jenkins also brought four glasses of wine – and an additional bottle, no less – and distributed these to each of his charges. When Jenkins left, his cheeks were still glowing from the enormous praise Kalibar had bestowed upon him.
Everyone dug in furiously, dismembering their respective ducks with gleeful violence. All efforts at decorum were abandoned. Kalibar was the first to be done, which was particularly impressive given his inability to see what he was doing. When everyone else had finished, they all slouched back in their seats with their bellies protruding, sighing contently. Jenkins returned soon afterward, his eyes widening in horror at the colossal mess they'd made. He hurriedly disappeared, returning with two arms full of towels. After a considerable amount of cleaning up, and additional accolades tossed his way, Jenkins left them with some dessert and more wine. No one touched the former, having been stuffed to the gills already, but the same could not be said for the wine. Kalibar grabbed Darius's glass by accident – which was just as well, as Darius just took Kalibar's instead – and proposed a toast.
“To my three friends,” he declared, raising his glass up. Everyone else grabbed their glasses and raised them as well. “Never before in my life have I shared such an adventure with more brave and worthy people. I love you all...” he paused, then smiled. “...even you, Darius,” he added, and Darius had to chuckle. “...with all of my heart, and if we never part, I'll consider myself the luckiest man alive!”
They all clinked glasses, and drank their wine. Kyle managed a single throat-searing sip before feeling queasy, putting his glass down and pushing it away. Luckily Darius, in a fit of generosity, finished it for him. When Jenkins arrived a final time, he found the desserts untouched, and the bottle of wine completely emptied. These he took away, and bid the four goodnight.
At last, their bellies near to bursting and their heads swimming pleasantly with wine, the four friends got ready for bed. Luckily Kalibar's suite had plenty of guest rooms, and they each got a luxurious bed to sleep in. Having already taken a shower in the medical ward, Kyle flopped unceremoniously onto his bed, not even bothering to get undressed. He buried himself deep within his blankets, curling into a warm ball in the center of the bed. And within a minute of his head sinking into his pillow, he fell fast asleep.
Chapter 26
Almost a week had passed since the deaths of Grand Weaver Rivin and Grand Runic Bartholos, and representatives from all over the Empire had traveled to Stridon to take part in the funeral for the late Grand Weaver and Grand Runic. Their closed caskets were paraded through the main street in Stridon on a carriage for all to see, with tall, stately horses pulling the carriage along. The carriage was escorted by a ring of elite guards, and was followed by massive, ornate floats that magically levitated above the ground. The floats displayed actors playing out historically important parts of Rivin's and Bartholos's lives. One showed Rivin battling tribal warriors, setting them all on fire. At first Kyle thought they were real flames, but it was clearly a magical illusion; the “burning” actors survived unscathed, repeating the mock battle over and over
again. It was the most elaborate parade Kyle had ever seen.
The parade ended with Rivin and Bartholos being brought to the Memorial Mall, a huge expanse of lawn just outside the Great Tower, with large, ornate gravestones marking each deceased Grand Weaver and Runic. The eleven remaining members of the Council, Kalibar, Erasmus, and the entire staff of the Secula Magna was present. Even high-ranking members of the military brass arrived, along with scores of soldiers standing solemnly in silent rows, facing the two ornate caskets. Kalibar himself presided over the funeral, giving a heartfelt eulogy for Rivin, then Bartholos. Bartholos's wife and two small boys were there, weeping quietly as his casket was lowered into the ground.
It was all terribly sad.
Even though Kyle had only met the two men for a few minutes, he found himself choking up after each eulogy. He pictured Bartholos's big belly jiggling when he laughed, and his kindness to a strange boy waking him in the middle of the night. He remembered Rivin's clear love for Kalibar, and his shockingly quick death. He hated Xanos now even more than he had before; the self-proclaimed god had attacked everyone who'd mattered to Kyle, senselessly destroying the lives of good men for his own selfish ends.
Kyle stayed for the whole funeral, Ariana and Darius at his side. Darius was uncharacteristically glum during the whole funeral, his eyes downcast. More characteristically, he ignored everyone, not saying a word during the entire funeral. Ariana appeared equally somber, holding his hand quietly throughout. She’d worn a black dress for the occasion, looking quite lovely in a morose kind of way.
Soon both caskets had been lowered into the ground, and Kalibar stood at the head of Bartholos's grave, while Erasmus stood at the head of Rivin's. Both were given gold-plated shovels. Erasmus scooped up some dirt with his shovel, tossing it into the grave. Then Kalibar did the same, tossing dirt into Bartholos's grave. Then they both stepped back, and each Council member took turns doing the same. Then, members of the elite guard, those trusted with protecting their rulers, finished the somber task of burying them.
