It was just before dawn, the light of the sky fire brightening as it changed from pale blue to yellow-orange. The light leaked through the shutters, painting Ruari’s pale skin with its colors. Tyrcamber sat next to her, a faint sheen of sweat on his skin from their recent exertions. She had distracted him from the fears in his mind, but the worries had returned once they had finished.
Ruari reached for her night table, picked up her stylus and tablet, and wrote out a sentence.
DO YOU EXPECT TROUBLE?
“Yes,” said Tyrcamber.
The day of the election and coronation had come at last. The election, at least, was mostly a formality. The Dukes would all cast their votes for Everard Roland, and if they didn’t, Chilmar Rigamond would make sure they regretted it. But Tyrcamber doubted that any of the Dukes would defy the consensus of the nobles and the Masters of the Imperial Orders. The Empire had unified behind Prince Everard, and this morning in the great hall of the Imperial Palace, he would be elected Emperor of the Franks. Then the nobles would proceed to the Imperial Cathedral, where the bishop of Sinderost would anoint and crown Everard as the new Emperor. After that, there would be several days of feasting and thanksgiving, and then the gathered army of the Empire would march north to invade Corbrast and lay siege to Castle Aginwulf, hopefully to break the power of the Fallen Order.
There were no armies anywhere near Sinderost, no significant enemy forces within three days of the Imperial capital.
Yet Tyrcamber could not shake his unease. Men from the Imperial Orders and the forces of the nobles had been exploring the four ruins discovered around the city. So far, the ruins had been mostly empty. The soldiers had come across some bands of muridach warriors and minor undead, and the foes had been cleared from the ruins. Guards had been set over the entrances to the underground galleries, and the Dukes had settled upon the opinion that Theudeuric had dug up the buried vaults in pursuit of some half-baked scheme of concealing an army within them for an ambush. But with the Empire’s strength assembled outside the wall, the plan had been abandoned, and the muridachs left to die.
It was a neat, precise little theory. Certainly, it matched with some of the erratic and mercurial strategies that Master Theudeuric had shown during the war so far.
And yet…
Tyrcamber could not shake the feeling that they had not discovered the truth.
That the truth would turn out to be dangerous.
Ruari nodded and got to her feet, walking to the stand that held her armor. Despite his dark mood, Tyrcamber did admire the way the light played over her back and legs. He rose and walked to her, and she looked over her shoulder, smiled, and rested her head against his chest.
“I know you are likely to meet my sister today,” he started.
Ruari held up a hand, retrieved her tablet, and wrote some more.
SHE IS THE ONLY ONE OF YOUR SIBLINGS THAT YOU ACTUALLY LIKE. I DO WISH TO IMPRESS HER.
She paused and then wrote some more.
BUT IF YOU THINK THERE WILL BE TROUBLE, THEN I WILL WEAR MY ARMOR.
“Thank you,” said Tyrcamber.
Ruari wrote one more sentence.
AND IF I NEED TO TRANSFORM, I DO NOT WANT TO BE NAKED IN FRONT OF THE EMPIRE’S NOBILITY.
“I don’t want that, either,” said Tyrcamber.
She grinned at him, and they dressed. Ruari donned trousers, boots, a tunic, and her gambeson, and then the armor of a Dragontiarna Knight. Tyrcamber had thought he would need to help her with it, but she had grown adept at putting on her armor. The rapid marches and battles against the forces of the Fallen Order had given her ample opportunity to practice. Tyrcamber put on his own armor and cloak, wrapping his sword belt around his waist. Kyathar’s scabbard tapped against his left leg as he adjusted the blade, and the weight of the sword felt familiar and comforting. Tyrcamber had carried it in many battles since the day the Valedictor had fallen.
Perhaps he would draw it in battle today.
Someone knocked at the door.
“My lady?” called Adalberga. “Are you ready?”
Tyrcamber looked at Ruari, and she nodded.
“Go ahead,” said Tyrcamber.
The door opened, and Adalberga stepped into the bedroom, wearing a fine blue gown with golden trim upon the sleeves and bodice. She took two steps into the room, stopped, and smiled.
“Oh,” she said. “I thought you would wear one of your new gowns today, my lady.”
Ruari shook her head and looked at Tyrcamber.
“I thought it best that we wear our armor,” said Tyrcamber. “If the Fallen Order tries anything.”
Adalberga frowned. “Do you think they will?”
“I don’t know,” said Tyrcamber. “I wish we could figure out what they were doing in those damned ruins, but there wasn’t enough time to map them entirely. Better to be ready than caught unprepared.”
“Wise words, my lord,” said Adalberga, and she turned her full attention to Ruari. “Well, if you’re ready, my lady, we can go to the hall. To think that we shall see the coronation of a new Emperor!”
Adalberga chattered away as they went downstairs, Tyrcamber following his wife and her best friend. From time to time, Ruari responded with a remark on her wax tablet. He listened with half an ear, trying to think what he might have missed. It was clear Adalberga believed that they were in no danger. And why should she not? They were in the Imperial capital, which was presently guarded by most of the soldiers in the Empire. The men of the Five Orders guarded the walls and patrolled the streets. The Fallen Order could not assault the city, and they would have a difficult time getting an assassin close to Everard.
Yet Tyrcamber knew in his gut that something was going to happen.
They came to the mansion’s great hall. Rilmael, Third, and Selene were already there, standing by one of the hearths. To judge from Selene’s amused expression, she had no doubt been making jokes about Rilmael’s and Third’s relationship. Rilmael looked mildly amused, Third exasperated.
“Ah, good morning,” said Selene. “I take it you are expecting trouble as well?”
“It is always better to exercise some preparation than to regret its absence,” said Rilmael.
“And what could be more honorable than the armor of a Dragontiarna Knight?” said Adalberga, offering a deep bow. She had been comfortable around Tyrcamber ever since he had stood up to Ruari’s mother. But she was in awe of Rilmael and seemed mildly frightened of Third. “How many people have worn that throughout the history of the Empire?”
“Not many,” said Rilmael.
“I suppose you have known most of them,” said Third.
“I have known all of them,” said Rilmael. “But the three of you are the equal of them all, even the first Emperor Roland.”
“Thank you,” said Tyrcamber.
They stood in silence for a moment.
“Well,” said Selene, “if we’re finished saying nice things about each other, perhaps we ought to proceed to the Imperial Palace.”
“A good plan,” said Third.
“Will…we not be arriving early?” said Adalberga. “Quite early, in fact?”
“We are,” said Rilmael. “But I want to have a look around the great hall and the Palace grounds first, to see if I can find anything amiss with the Sight. If the Fallen Order has some cunning trap that we missed, I want to be ready for it.”
They left the great hall, and Chilmar’s pages brought their horses. Tyrcamber helped Ruari into her saddle, and the others mounted. They headed into the streets as the sky fire brightened, the last of the nighttime blue fading away. The streets of the Old City were mostly deserted, though in a few hours, they would be filled with nobles and knights making their way to the Square of the Empire in hopes of witnessing the election and the coronation.
But the Square of the Empire lay empty right now, the towers of the Imperial Palace and the dome of the cathedral rising overhead. In fact, the guards were just opening the outer gate of the
Palace. Tyrcamber supposed that they would be the first guests to arrive, which should give them ample time to look around the grounds.
Rilmael flinched in his saddle, his horse coming to a stop.
“What is it?” said Third, reaching out to touch his arm.
“The Sight,” said Rilmael. “Something is happening…”
He was on Tyrcamber’s right, so Tyrcamber was looking directly to the west when the pillar of blue light exploded into the sky.
It was a column of blue flame, writhing and twisting, a dark core of shadow at its heart. Ruari’s eyes widened as she looked to the south, and Tyrcamber followed her gaze to see another column of blue flame rising behind the Imperial Palace. He turned in a circle and saw another pillar of blue flame blazing in the north and the east.
Four pillars. Four ruins.
“What the devil are those?” said Selene, gesturing as she cast the Sense spell.
“Necromantic power,” said Rilmael, his eyes narrowed as he drew on the Sight. “Tremendous necromantic power. It…”
His expression hardened.
“Damn it,” said Rilmael. “I should have realized it sooner.”
“Realized what?” said Tyrcamber.
“The obelisks,” said Rilmael. “The obelisks that the muridachs and the Fallen Knights kept talking about. They’re not obelisks at all, but Laethstones.”
“Laethstones?” said Tyrcamber. “I’ve never heard of them.”
“Few have,” said Rilmael. “You and Third encountered Dwyrstones in Andomhaim.” Tyrcamber and Third nodded. “Stones for channeling and controlling the power of the Great Eye. Laethstones are stones for summoning and channeling immense quantities of necromantic force. They’re incredibly difficult to create. None of the dark elves left on this world have the power or the skill.”
“But the Embalmer must have possessed the knowledge,” said Third. “He left four Laethstones buried in his hidden vaults. The Fallen Order realized the truth and dug up those vaults not to use them as strongholds or hidden refuges, but to find the stones.”
“Which is why my Sight could not find them,” said Rilmael.
“Like the Dwyrstones,” said Third. “Calliande never knew they were magical until Aeliana activated them.”
“And now the Fallen Order has empowered the Laethstones,” said Rilmael.
Apparently, Rilmael and Third really were a good match. They hadn’t known each other all that long, but they were already finishing each other’s thoughts.
“But what are they going to do with all that power?” said Tyrcamber, though he already had a good suspicion.
“They’re going to direct it at Sinderost,” said Rilmael. “That much necromantic power will kill everyone in the city, and likely wipe out most of the gathered army as well.”
“How long?” said Tyrcamber.
“A half-hour at the most,” said Rilmael. “The Imperial Orders won’t be able to move fast enough to stop them. It will be up to us.”
“What can we do?” said Selene.
“We must move swiftly,” said Rilmael. “Between the four of us, we can probably destroy the Laethstones. They are not as resilient as Dwyrstones, and can be destroyed with sufficient magic…”
“Or dragon fire or frost?” said Tyrcamber.
“Precisely,” said Rilmael. He shot another look at the burning columns of blue fire rising outside the city. “This is what I propose. Sir Tyrcamber, you and Lady Ruari take the southern Dwyrstone, and then the eastern one. Third, Selene, and I will attack the northern one and the western one. If you destroy those two stones first, come to our aid…”
“And if you destroy your stones first, you’ll come to ours,” said Tyrcamber. “But the Fallen Order will put up a fight.”
“Undoubtedly,” said Rilmael. “But we have three Dragontiarna Knights and the Lady Selene. It’s up to us to stop this. We’ll have to destroy all four Laethstones. Even one of them will be powerful enough to kill thousands.”
Ruari looked at Adalberga.
“My lord,” she said, clearing her throat. “I’ll take the horses. And I’ll tell one of the Dukes what’s going on…”
“My father,” said Tyrcamber. “He knows you, he’ll listen to you. Or Duke Cataul Tetrax.” Ruari was on better terms with her brother than with her mother. “Tell them what’s happening and to send men towards the pillars of flame in case we fail.” That would be a futile effort, most likely. Men from Sinderost might be able to reach the northern Laethstone in time, but the eastern, western, and southern ones were on opposite sides of the Rivers Nabia and Bellex.
If the Fallen Order’s plan was to be stopped, it was up to Tyrcamber and his friends.
“Hurry,” said Rilmael.
They dismounted their horses, and Adalberga took them in hand. By then, more people had noticed the pillars of fire and stood gaping at them. Others ran for the Imperial Palace, no doubt to sound the alarm. Tyrcamber, Ruari, and Third spread out since they needed space for their transformations. Once everyone was an adequate distance away, Tyrcamber reached for the fire of the Malison and changed, swelling into the form of a massive golden dragon. Third and Ruari changed as well. Third’s dragon form was a little smaller than Tyrcamber’s, and her scales were like black steel. Ruari’s was smaller yet, her scales a deep blue. Rilmael and Selene climbed onto Third’s back, and the three dragons launched themselves into the sky.
Tyrcamber flew to the south, shooting over the towers and battlements of the Imperial Palace. Ruari flew on his right, keeping a little behind him. They passed over the southernmost tip of the Imperial Palace, where the River Nabia flowed into the River Bellex. The southern ruin of the Embalmer was on the western bank of the Bellex south of the city, and Tyrcamber saw the disturbed earth where the Fallen Order had excavated.
The pillar of blue fire stabbed into the sky from the heart of the disturbed ground.
Tyrcamber also saw a mob of muridachs and undead seething around the base of the pillar, along with the dark-armored forms of Knights of the Order of Blood.
He flew towards them, readying himself for battle.
###
Third shot to the north, flying past the wall of the Old City and then over Sinderost’s New City.
She felt the weight of Rilmael and Selene her back, but it barely slowed her. In the form of a dragon, her physical strength was immense, and carrying the Guardian and her cousin was no more effort than carrying a small child. It was a strange thought, but no stranger than possessing the power of flight once again. During her centuries as an urdhracos, Third had been able to fly. It had been a brief moment of wonder among the endless years that she had been enslaved to her father’s will.
But this…this was better.
Third crossed the northern wall of Sinderost and over the trenches and the churned fields scarred from the sieges. The half-finished earthworks rose to the north, and the pillar of blue flame erupted from within, pulsing and growing stronger. Third wasn’t sure, but she thought the pillar had gotten thicker in the time it had taken her to fly from the Imperial Palace.
And she felt the dark magic surging from the thing in cold, clammy waves. Had Ridmark been here, Oathshield would have erupted with white fire in reaction.
Third wished that Ridmark was here, and not just because she missed her oldest friend.
The aid of the Shield Knight would have been welcome.
She folded her wings and landed at the edge of the earthworks, and Rilmael and Selene scrambled off her back. Third released the fire of the Malison and shrank into her normal form, feeling a wave of vertigo. The sensation of transformation was always a strange one and made her senses reel for a few seconds.
But it was nowhere near as shocking as the transformation from an urdhracos to her current form had been.
Or her original transformation into an urdhracos almost a thousand years ago, for that matter.
“This way,” said Rilmael. “We’ll have to fight. I saw muridachs and
undead in the ruins, along with several Knights of the Fallen Order.”
“You and I can hold their attention,” said Selene, “and then cousin Third can take to the air and destroy the Laethstone.”
“They must know that we are coming,” said Third, drawing Storm and Inferno. “Three dragons flying from Sinderost is not an easy thing to miss.”
“It is not,” said Rilmael, and lightning began to crackle up and down the length of his staff. “Come.”
He led the way into the earthworks, weaving his way around the pits and the trenches and the piled dirt. Third and Selene followed him, and Third worked the Sense spell, attempting to pinpoint the auras of any Knights of the Order of Blood. She gave it up as futile. Necromantic magic overwhelmed her Sense spell, and trying to find anything against that was useless. And it didn’t matter how many black knights and muridachs they would face.
They had to destroy the Laethstones, or a lot of people were about to die.
Rilmael went around a pile of dirt, and the black obelisk came into sight.
They stood at the edge of a crater, broken white stone lying scattered across the ground. Third realized that the Laethstone had simply blasted its way out of the buried ruins. The Laethstone floated in the air about twenty yards above the crater, revolving slowly. The Dwyrstones in Andomhaim had been menhirs of rough white stone. The Laethstone was an obelisk of black rock, polished to an almost mirror-like sheen. It stood about twenty feet tall, and the edges looked sharp enough to cut flesh. Hundreds of dark elven sigils, symbols of ruin and death and destruction, glowed with blue fire in its sides. The pillar of blue flame rose from the floating obelisk, stabbing into the sky.
Hundreds of muridachs and skeletal undead were gathered around the edge of the crater, the ghostly blue fire in their eyes identical to the flame rising from the Laethstone. Among them Third spotted the black-armored forms of a half-dozen Knights of the Order of Blood.
“Ah,” said Selene, lifting her sword and axe. “That is quite a lot of muridachs.”
“Yes,” said Rilmael. The lightning crackling around his staff intensified, and fire began to blaze around his free hand. “We’ll draw their attention. Third, take to the air as soon as you can.”
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