“Release the Nelwyn,” he replied. “Let them take a message from me. I can help you broker a peace.”
“Is that what you think I want?” This time he didn’t bother with the glass. “My sons are dead. My wife is dead. Even my dear sweet sister. The only peace I desire is to join them.”
“So you want to keep fighting?’
“No. There’s been too much blood spilled already. To keep fighting is pointless. What the Nelwyn did to us took less than two weeks. We have no resistance to offer. I only want to save those who are left alive.”
“If you let me send word, I swear to you, it will end. You can save your people.”
“We were a proud race, once.” His eyes were far away, as if in a daydream. “Peaceful.
Contented.”
“What changed?”
It took a moment for him to reply. “A man named Jorn Valarian, the first Bomar Emperor. He was the one who built Malizar into what it is…was. He thought the stories about the ancients were more than just tales for children at bedtime.”
“What kind of stories?”
“About a great race of giants who could build wondrous machines. Some that could break the bonds of the earth to touch the very heavens.”
“Are you saying the stories were true?”
Gorlan shrugged. “Who knows what is true? All I know was that Valarian went north, to the frozen wastes. When he returned, things changed. From what I was told, he found secret knowledge buried in the icy ground. It allowed us to build our transport, weapons, and even the power station. It also helped him subdue the people and make himself Emperor.”
It was starting to make sense. The primitive technology combined with more advanced machines… they had not created it. They had found it, and somehow learned to remake what had been lost.
“My people have similar legends. But our stories warn us not to seek out the tools of the ancients. That if we do, it will be our downfall.”
“It would seem your stories were right. A pity we didn’t know them. Though I doubt we would have stopped.”
“How long ago was this?”
“My father was a boy when the Imperium was built. But the power station, the transports, most of what we have, came no more than twenty years ago.”
Drake could not help but wonder if it was the stolen technology that had made them warlike, or it had simply brought out what was lying dormant. “Perhaps now that the Imperium is gone, your people can learn to live in peace again.”
“Perhaps. If the Nelwyn will allow us to survive. We’ve been at war for a long time. The hatred my people feel for them is nothing compared for that which they feel for us.”
“Wasn’t it your people who first attacked the Nelwyn?
“No. But if I’m being honest, we were the cause. We were the invaders. They were defending their homes. And now, we have no homes to go back to.”
“If you let me help you, I’m certain the Nelwyn will allow you to stay.” “As what? Servants? Slaves? We will fight to the last before that happens.”
“I don’t know much about the Nelwyn, but they don’t strike me as the kind to enslave others.”
The general regarded Drake for several seconds. “Send your message. But the Nelwyn stay until we receive their answer.”
“Then at least allow one of the adults to deliver it, as a show of good faith.”
“Agreed. I’ll have you brought to where they are being held.” He rose then called for one of the guards. After giving instructions, he turned to Drake. “I have to know one thing…when I mentioned my son, I saw something change in your expression. Did you know him?”
“Yes. I met him while I was there. He mentioned your name. I’m sorry I couldn’t save
him.”
“I suppose I should want you dead. But your sins are far too great to be punished by me.” He turned his back. “Go. And may the faces of the Bomar you killed haunt your dreams.”
The words struck like a hammer blow to the face. His head downturned, Drake followed the guard through the camp. He could not bring himself to meet the eyes of the Bomar he passed. The name Drake Sharazi would become a curse, spat from the mouths of children and told as a dark tale of an evil man who brought doom upon their people. If he was to find any semblance of redemption, he must bring peace between the Bomar and the Nelwyn.
The Nelwyns’ bonds had been cut, and only a single guard was inside the tent where they were being held.
“I feared you would not return,” said Hylariel. “Did they tell you what is to become of us?” Drake explained the situation. Their expressions were a combination of relief and sorrow. “This will be hard on the Bomar,” said Sillis, to a muttered agreement of the others. “They
have lost so much.”
Drake marveled that after everything the Bomar had done, the Nelwyn could still find compassion in their hearts. Though, when he told them that only one adult would be permitted to leave, at once a heated debate sprang up. No one was willing to leave the children behind.
“Someone has to go,” said Drake after ten minutes of no resolution. “As Hylariel was in the cavern when I arrived and her children are the oldest, I say she should go.”
Hylariel stiffened. “I will not.”
“So you’d rather sit here and do nothing?” “I…cannot leave them.”
Drake was beginning to understand the reasoning behind the Bomars’ decision to keep the children with their mothers. Had the children been chained to the wall, and the mothers free to move as they pleased, they would have not attempted escape.
“More will die if you don’t send word.”
This had a visible impact. She turned to her children who were sitting in a corner with the
others.
“We will watch over them, sister,” said Sillis. “So will I,” added Drake.
“Very well. I cannot allow needless death.”
Hylariel spent the next hour kneeling beside her young, holding them close and repeatedly promising she would return as quickly as possible.
Drake instructed the guard to inform General Gorlan that they were ready. Dawn was nearly upon them, and they had no idea how far away the Nelwyn were. Every minute counted. For Drake, each life saved was one more that he would not blame himself for wasting.
Provisions were provided, and tearful farewells made. Drake accompanied Hylariel to the edge of the camp, in the direction they were told the Nelwyn force had last been seen. He had given Hylariel a detailed message for her people, one which she felt confident they would receive well.
“We do not desire their destruction,” she said. “We never have. But trust…that will not be a thing easily given.”
“Right now, mercy will be enough. Trust can come later.” She was only a few yards away when he called out: “Tell Lenora…never mind. I’ll tell her myself.”
He turned and fell in behind the soldier who had escorted them. Tell her what? That he was now the greatest murderer in the history of Vale? That the very thing they hoped to stop her brother from doing…he had already done? What words could he speak that would make her understand? How could she forgive him when he knew in his heart he could never forgive himself?
Chapter Nineteen
Linx entered the King’s study feeling exhausted yet anxious. There had been no sign of Xavier since their last meeting in this very room, nor any signal from Bane’s tracking device. She had made every effort to remain in the city and near a mana console in the event the tiny ring on her index finger began to vibrate.
Salazar was sitting in his customary chair, the crystal scepter leaning against the arm. He was rarely seen without it of late. Not surprising, given the enemies he had created among the nobility. A glass of brandy was in one hand and a small leather book in the other.
“You’ve been a busy girl,” he said, without looking up. “Your Highness?” Her flesh tingled a warning.
“Sit.”
There was a glass resting on the side table next to a c
hair just opposite. She didn’t drink brandy, and Salazar knew this. And it was half drained.
“The message said it was urgent.”
The King placed the book and the glass on the table and steepled his fingers beneath the bridge of his nose. “I just don’t know what to make of you. So young, yet so cunning.”
“Growing up in the provinces makes you that way, Your Highness.”
He smiled warmly. “Yes. I’m sure it does. But soon that won’t be a problem anymore, now will it?”
“No, Your Highness, it won’t.”
He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Assuming no one does anything to stop me.”
“Has something happened?” She kept a level tone. Salazar often spoke of conspiracies, though it wasn’t common for him to call her to his study to do so. Don’t overreact.
“Something is always happening, my dear. But thanks to your keen mind, and…loyalty, my foes are nearly gone. Or at least weakened to the point of impotence. But still, I am troubled.”
“By what, Your Highness?”
“My father once told me to never underestimate your enemies. Least of all when they appear to be at their weakest.”
“Sounds like good advice.”
“It is. Which is why I have a special job for you.”
“I am at your command, Your Highness.” Her heart rate slowed a bit.
“I want you to send word to every noble in Troi over the age of eighteen that there is to be a gathering of the families in two days. You are to deliver each message yourself, and do not leave their home until it is understood that attendance is compulsory.”
“I’ll get on it right away. And if they asked what it’s about?”
Salazar leaned back, rubbing his chin. “Tell them…tell them that I have an important announcement to make. One that will unite the houses and ensure the safety and prosperity of Vale for all time.” A pleased smile formed. “Yes. Say precisely that.”
When Salazar retrieved his book, Linx stood and bowed low. “Right away, Your Highness.”
When she reached the door, the King added: “I nearly forgot. Would you be so kind as to kill the Chief Magistrate? And if you could get it done today, I would be grateful.”
Linx stopped, gripping the door handle tightly. “Yes, Your Highness.” The warnings she experienced upon arrival returned in force.
Entering the lift, she leaned her hand against the door. Salazar clearly knew the Chief Magistrate was not loyal; that she was working to serve her own interests. But to assassinate her? It was a bold move. It would be impossible to hide the King’s involvement. Sending Linx to do it was the same as an admission. Why not send someone from lower Troi? Velma Chase had made enemies; scores of them. She was feared without question, but also hated by many. Surely there was someone else, someone to whom blame could be assigned without it leading back to the palace.
Or maybe he doesn’t care if it does? she considered. Had King Salazar cowed the nobles to the point they would turn a blind eye to murdering such a high-ranking official without so much as a single charge being levied against them?
The ride to the magistrate’s office felt as if it took mere seconds. She had never simply killed someone for no good reason other than being ordered to. While Magistrate Chase was not someone Linx would have gone out of her way to save, this felt wrong. And eliminating her would deny a valuable resource to her efforts in saving the people in the provinces.
Linx’s best guess was that Salazar had found out about Chase’s deception, that she was playing both sides for her own preservation; though for whatever reason, had not uncovered her own involvement.
The lobby was filled to near capacity. She had arrived during a shift change, and officers just getting off duty were loitering in groups, catching up and deciding what to do now that work was over. Those there with business were crammed into chairs as they waited for their names to be called by the desk officer.
Linx went straight back, receiving a few contemptuous stares from those she passed. Royal guards and magistrates had never been on good terms. But Linx had risen fast and had, to their way of thinking, too much authority for someone so young.
“Is she in?” Linx asked a young man in the first office on her right. “I think so. She was earlier.”
She wound her way through the halls until reaching the interrogation rooms. Two officers were standing in front of the door to the hallway that led to Chase’s office. This meant she was there.
Linx passed through without so much as a word. She was a well-known figure in this building, particularly since the meeting with Chase. It would be an easy kill, and her P37 would be quiet enough to allow her to walk straight out without an issue.
Linx halted in front of the door, her hand resting on her weapon. The layout was simple. A desk to the right, a meeting table on the far left, and a cushioned chair against the near wall. At shift change, Chase would be at her desk, immersed in paperwork.
What if she’s not alone?
“Then you’ll wait until she is,” she whispered.
She pulled the door open. The lights were dimmed, with the exception of the one above the desk. Linx stepped inside and closed the door. The back of the desk chair was facing her, the top of Chase’s head barely visible.
Her senses came alive. Something was wrong. The woman’s arm…it was dangling at her side like she was…
Movement in the corner of her eye had her reaching for the P37. But whoever was there was ready. There was a flash of green light, and blinding pain tore through her body. Her muscles seized, and she was unable to prevent a hard fall, flat on her back.
A shadow approached and took the P37 from her hand. The pain persisted, and she could not focus her vision. A mage? It had to be. The mana that now bound her could only be caused by a spell, or a…
“I have to admit, I’m impressed.”
Xavier. She couldn’t see him. But that smug tone was unmistakable.
The pain vanished and Linx rolled to her side, her extremities tingling and weak. “What the hell are you doing?”
Xavier was standing beside the desk, a smile peeking from the corners of his mouth. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t shoot me by mistake. I know how nervous the first time can make you.”
“First time?”
“As an assassin. Different from killing in a fight, wouldn’t you say?” He reached over and turned the chair, revealing Chief Magistrate Chase. Though there wasn’t an obvious wound, her vacant eyes told Linx everything.
“Why?”
“You should thank me,” said Xavier, sitting on the corner of the desktop. “Cold-blooded murder changes a person. I hoped to save you that.”
Linx struggled to stand, staggering over to the chair. “Did the king send you?”
“Only to see that you went through with it,” he said. “I assured him you would. But you know the king – always testing the loyalty of those around him. Not that I blame him. Most of the
nobility is on the brink of rebellion. Thankfully, he has the two of us around to protect him. Am I right?”
“I don’t have time for your games, Lord Xavier.”
“Oh, you can dispense with the Lord part. Your attempt at having me executed saw to that.”
He was still holding his weapon. Hers was on the floor a few feet away from where she had been lying.
“It looks like you wormed your way out of it,” she remarked, sneering contemptuously. “Like you, I’m a survivor. Though I must give you credit – you are by far the cleverest
opponent I’ve faced.”
Linx sniffed. “I’m flattered.”
“You should be. I’ve beaten King Nedar, Princess Lenora, most of the nobility, and let us not for get the infamous Drake Sharazi. All thought themselves my superior. But it took a young girl to humble me. And I thank you.”
Linx cocked her head. “For what?”
“For exposing me. It was….liberating. You see, King Salazar has won. I know you’re not read
y to accept it. But the truth is the truth.” He glanced over at the body. “Poor Velma knew it too. It was why she came to me all those months ago. But once you initiated your little coup, she needed another ally.”
“Is that why the king wanted her dead?”
Xavier chuckled. “No, my dear. He just wanted her out of the way. Too much influence. Too many secrets. The king knows nothing about her alliance with you. Or me. It is the one secret I was able to keep.”
“Could you please get to the point?”
“Indeed. The point is that we are both traitors. And I can’t afford having someone like you working against me.” He raised his weapon.
Linx straightened her back and looked Xavier in the eye. There was no way to reach her P37 in time. “Do it, then. Unless your ego is too big not to gloat.”
Xavier nodded approvingly. “I can see why the king thinks you’re special. I would say you were fearless. But that’s not the case, is it? Without fear, I’d think you’d be dead by now.” He lowered the P37 and shoved it into his holster. “Feel free to take yours. I didn’t come here to kill you.”
Linx stood and picked it up. “But maybe I came to kill you.” Mana flowed into the chamber, and the crystal in her chest burned as she pointed the barrel at his head.
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