Light of Eidon (Legends of the Guardian-King, Book 1)

by Karen Hancock

  Then he waited. His thirst mounted, and the temptation to drink rose with it, but he resisted doggedly, reciting the three codices of Guardian Ordinance to distract himself.

  Finally footsteps sounded outside his door, and the bar thumped as it was removed. The door creaked. Light played over his slitted eyelids and a linen rustle approached.

  An unfamiliar voice said, “You’re right. He’s still asleep.”

  Plagues! Eldrin thought. There’re two.

  “Looks like he’s come to, though,” the first continued. `And had a sip of water. Spilled most of it, too-why do they always have to spill it?”

  “He’ll be out till midnight, at least,” the other voice said, closer nowfrom within the doorway?

  Till midnight. It must be evening, then, or close to it. And midnight was no doubt the time of his next appointment with Saeral.

  The cloth rustled again, close by. He smelled stale incense and sweat, heard the sough of the man’s breathing. The flagon moved in his hand. Instantly he drove himself upward, smashing the vessel into the surprised Haverallan’s face as he shouldered the man aside and sprang to grab the door. The other Haverallan stared openmouthed as Eldrin charged full into him, bulling him across the hallway into the wall.

  Then Eldrin fled, careening down the narrow corridor at full speed, realizing at once the major flaw in his plan-he had no idea where he was going.

  Pursued by angry shouts and slapping footfalls, he skidded left at the first intersection he came to, dashed down another empty corridor. Light hung in pools amid the darkness, reflecting along glassy, slag-faced walls. His own footfalls mingled with those of his pursuers, but he did not look back, concentrating on running as fast as he could. He passed several curtained doorways and was about to duck into the next one he came to when a thunderous command reverberated off the rock.

  “STOP! NOW?”

  The amulet flared at his neck. Pain wrenched his forearm, and his legs stopped moving so suddenly, momentum tumbled him head over heels. He skidded helplessly across the slick floor, fetching up against the slag wall.

  Another command echoed down the corridor. “COME HERE.” An awful understanding writhed through him as his body picked itself up and turned back toward his pursuers. Seeing he was obeying them, they stopped, waiting while his treacherous legs bore him back to them. Both smiled smugly as he stopped in front of them.

  “Now,” one said, “back to your-“

  He got no further as a robed figure burst from the doorway behind him. A flurry of movement, a pair of thuds, and both men lay on the floor, unconscious. The light under Eldrin’s chin blinked out and the pressure against his windpipe released at the same time as the compulsion over his body. He swayed and would have fallen had his rescuer not seized his arm.

  “In here,” he whispered, shoving Eldrin through the curtained opening from which he had just sprung. Weak-kneed and gasping, Eldrin stumbled into what turned out to be a short hallway lit only by the illumination filtering around a second curtain at its far end. His companion released him and he sagged against the wall, seeking to regain both breath and equilibrium.

  The other man, dressed all in black, secured a black fabric tube filled with sand to his belt, then threw back his cowl.

  “Meridon?” Eldrin gaped. “What are you doing here?”

  The Terstan captain offered a half bow. “His Majesty suspected your decision to seek seclusion might not have been entirely your own.”

  “But aren’t you supposed to be in prison?”

  Meridon shrugged. “Technically I still am.” He gestured at the necklet on Eldrin’s throat. “May I relieve you of that, my lord?”

  “I’m afraid it has no clasp, sir, though I-“

  But Meridon had already seized it and begun to yank on it, the woven wire biting into the back of Eldrin’s neck.

  “You’re not going to be-“

  He felt a tingling sizzle as a blinding light flashed in the darkness, and the necklet sprung loose from his neck.

  “How did you do that?” Eldrin cried as Meridon flung the thing away and drew a small pouch from his black tunic.

  “I’m truly amazed you’ve resisted them this long,” Meridon said, shaking the pouch’s contents into one hand. “I thought Saeral would have you safely saddled and bridled.”

  “I was an idiot,” Eldrin said bitterly.

  “You never really had a chance, my lord. Here, put this on.” He held out a gold chain from which depended a pale gray stone.

  Eldrin frowned suspiciously. “What is it?”

  “It’ll shield you against the power of their command.”

  “I thought with the necklet gone-“

  “They put the feyna on you, didn’t they?” Boldly Meridon picked up Eldrin’s still throbbing left arm, rubbed a rough thumb over the ovoid scar, and nodded. He dropped it and turned his attention to Eldrin’s right armwhich seemed to cause him some surprise. “Only once?” he murmured to himself, rubbing the unblemished skin as if he’d expected more. “But why… ?” When he looked up, his face was blank with surprise. “You resisted it.,,

  “Not really. It just made me sick. I think I almost died.”

  “Indeed.” The Terstan arched a brow, and his eyes darted to the chain and its charm, still looped across his palm.

  Eldrin eyed it doubtfully. “I’d really rather not.”

  At this point, it’s the only way you’re getting out of here. They’ll have felt the removal of their collar, and without this you have no chance. Not with spore in your flesh.”

  Shouts of alarm and hurried footfalls echoing in the corridor from which they had just come forced a decision. Without letting himself dwell on the possible consequences, Eldrin snatched the chain and looped it over his head.

  He followed the Terstan to the curtain at the short hall’s end, where they dashed up a short stair, turned right into yet another corridor, then another, and another. Eldrin was fearing they were lost in the seemingly endless warren of passages when they slipped up to yet another curtained doorway and peered into a dimly lit circular chamber. Roughly the diameter of the Sanctum’s lowest level, it held concentric rings of knee-high obsidian benches encircling a central brazier of glowing coals. Four aisles cut through the benches in the traditional four-corners cross, a curtained doorway at each end.

  A cluster of robed figures stood near the curtained doorway on the right, at the end of the crosswise aisle. Lit only by the brazier of coals, the room lay swathed in deep shadow.

  “Here,” Meridon hissed, pressing a wad of fabric into Eldrin’s hands. “Put it on.”

  It was the Terstan’s robe. As Eldrin complied, Meridon untied the black sandclub from his belt.

  “We’ll go left,” he said, “and hope they don’t see us in the dark. If you feel any compulsions to turn around or do anything except run for the opening on the left, fight it for all you’re worth.” Meridon peered past the curtain again. “You go first. I’ll cover you. No matter what happens, just keep moving. Things may get a bit … exciting.”

  “I’m afraid they’ve already gone well past exciting, Captain.”

  Eldrin slipped through the drapery, the Terstan on his heels, and they hurried along the curving wall toward the next curtained opening. No shouts rang out, no arcane compulsions took control of his limbs; the men across the room never knew they were there.

  Not until he was two strides from their objective and a robed figure stepped through the curtain and into his path, too close not to see him. Eldrin and the newcomer stopped simultaneously, the latter immediately sensing something was wrong. He drew breath to cry out, even as Meridon came around Eldrin’s shoulder, swinging the sandclub in a wide arc that connected solidly with the man’s head, dropping him like an empty sack.

  A questing voice sounded from the men now behind them, someone’s attention drawn by the grunt and the sounds of collapse. Meridon’s fingers dug into Eldrin’s shoulder, shoving him forward as a deep voice boomed off the w
alls, commanding them to stop. Eldrin staggered, legs twitching, moving as if through cold honey. Beside him, Meridon straightened and let fly the sandclub. The dark tube pinwheeled across the chamber to slam into the head of one of the Haverallans, dropping him as it had dropped the first man.

  The compulsion lifted and Eldrin was free to run. He followed Meridon along more mazelike corridors and stairways until finally they burst through a wooden door into the night. Racing around the outside of the Sanctum, they were barely halfway across the main courtyard when the Sanctum doors banged open and what sounded like an army of men thundered out in pursuit of them. Shouts rang across the stone as, alerted by the commotion, the gatekeeper emerged from his booth ahead.

  But Meridon was already heading for the garden, Eldrin lagging behind him only a little. They careened along the gravel paths, the Haverallans closing behind them. Suddenly Meridon slowed and stepped off the walkway, pressing through a dark, prickly hedge. As Eldrin came through after him, he stopped beside the wall and cupped his hands for Eldrin’s foot. His strength already flagging and his breath tearing at his throat, Eldrin tried to comply.

  It was messy, but he managed to haul himself to the top. He was belly down, awkwardly swiveling his legs over the wall, when Meridon scrambled up and over, there to catch him as he fumbled his way down. Then they were free, dashing along the empty street, Meridon in the lead. He skidded into the first alley he came to, Eldrin on his heels, and soon they lost their pursuers in the narrow, twisting passages of Upper Southdock.

  By then the air was tearing at Eldrin’s throat with every breath, bringing the coppery taste of blood to his tongue. His feet had become lead weights, his legs weak as gelatin, until at last they refused to go another step. He staggered to a stop and collapsed against a rough brick wall. It wasn’t long before Meridon came back to sink down beside him. Eldrin sat on the cobbles, heedless of the squalor, back pressed against the wall as he gasped back his breath.

  “We can’t stay here long,” Meridon said presently. In the dark he was only a vague shape peering around the stack of crates beside them. Eldrin heard him sigh. “I’m afraid we can’t stay in Kiriath, either, my lord.”

  It took a moment for his words to register. “What do you mean, Captain?”

  “The king sent me to deliver you from Saeral, yes, but also to take you away. You are too great a threat to him. To the entire realm.”

  “But I am free of Saeral. And I don’t intend to-“

  “Right now only distance will free you from Saeral. And with the Nunn lords wanting you on the throne, your presence would fuel succession plots and foster rebellion-at a time when Kiriath can least afford it.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Perhaps. But it is the king’s rule. If you refuse to come willingly, I’m to take you by force.”

  He could do it, too. Eldrin leaned his head against the wall at his back and closed his eyes, trying to calm the terror, the fury-the hurt-that held him, trying to force his mind to think. He could not surprise this man the way he had surprised the Haverallans in the Keep. Even if he could, he had Meridon’s chilling accuracy with the knife to contend with. Still, in the darkness the Terstan’s aim would not be as good. And an opportunity might yet arise….

  But what good would it do? Where could he go? If Raynen decreed he must leave, and Saeral sought to possess him, he could not hope to elude both for long.

  “I’m to be exiled, then?” He opened his eyes and stared at uneven walls tottering over them, separated by a thin line of star-sprinkled sky.

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

  They sat in silence for a time. Then Eldrin burst out with a bitter laugh. And so I’m to be turned out. Alone and penniless. Or is Raynen still offering the money and the merchantman?”

  “The money, yes. But not the ship. However, you will not go alone. I have sworn to defend you with my life.”

  Eldrin’s thoughts stilled, anger overlaid by astonishment. He looked toward the Terstan, a man-form in the dark. Then he laughed again. “You have an odd sense of duty, Captain. You threaten to assault me unless I cooperate with your kidnapping scheme, and in the next breath you swear fealty to me.”

  “My fealty is to the king. He has charged me with this task, whether I agree with it or not.”

  `And do you agree?”

  Meridon shrugged. “It is the price I pay for my life.”

  “You have not answered my question.”

  “It is not my place to agree or disagree. Only to obey. I am but a freeman’s son, Your Highness.”

  And a strange one, Captain Meridon. For now I’ll go with you. It seems I have little choice.”

  “May I have your word you’ll not try to escape?”

  Eldrin paused, surprised again and vaguely flattered by the implications. “Yes.”

  Some time later they reached the river, stealing beneath the forest of pilings that supported the docks overhead until Meridon apparently reached the site he was looking for. There was no one there, nor was there a boat waiting. Only the dark water, lapping quietly at the muddy bank.

  The Terstan looked up and down the bank.

  “Is something-” Eldrin began.

  The other gestured for quiet.

  Eldrin’s neck prickled a warning the instant before a heavy, stinking net dropped upon him and a hand clapped over his mouth. He was dragged, struggling, back up the shore to the warehouse they had recently skirted and shoved through a door, net and all. Meridon was thrown in atop him, and the door clicked shut. Light filled the room as a foul-smelling man bent over him, pulling away the net as another bound his hands.

  Left alone after that, he risked pushing himself to a sitting position as his eyes adjusted to the lantern light. Meridon sat beside him, also tied. Four ragged hoodlums ranged the long, narrow room, one peeking around the canvas that covered the window.

  “What is this?” Meridon demanded. “Who are you?”

  But their captors only growled at them to be silent.

  Shortly the door opened, and a tall, robed figure stepped in. Eldrin’s chest constricted. How had Saeral caught up with them? Were even the ruffians in Southdock under his influence?

  Then the man in the robe thrust back his cowl, and Eldrin gaped in astonishment at his younger brother.

  “Prince Gillard!” Meridon cried, leaping to his feet. “What is this about? What are you doing?”

  “What am I doing?” Gillard raised his blond brows and chuckled to himself as he swaggered forward. “I am saving the kingdom, of course.”

  “Saving the… ? But I have the matter in hand, my lord. He has agreed to go into exile willingly.”

  “I never thought he wouldn’t.” Gillard’s pale eyes fixed on Eldrin. “But if Ray were to die, my little brother here would still inherit the Crown, a position he is woefully unfit to fill.”

  It was too much. From that deep place in Eldrin’s soul a door opened and fury burst out of it. Wordlessly he exploded upward, smashing shoulder first into his brother’s belly, his momentum carrying both of them backward to the floor.

  A flash of white briefly overlaid the warm lantern light as, with a roar, Gillard flung Eldrin aside. He hit a wall, the air woofing out of him, stars wheeling before him.

  Somehow Meridon had gotten free. One of Gillard’s henchmen sprawled on the floor, unconscious. A second slumped dazedly against the wall, while a third clutched a bloody slash on his upper right arm. Knife in hand, Meridon crouched before Gillard, the point of Gillard’s rapier pressed to his throat, just under the right ear.

  Gillard grinned wolfishly, breathing through his mouth. “I could kill you so easily, swine. The bare flick of my fingers would do it.” Blood welled at the tip of his blade, trickling down the side of Meridon’s neck. “Drop the knife,” Gillard barked.

  Meridon’s blade clattered to the floor. The single uninjured henchman scooped it up.

  “Now, hands behind your back.”

  Again Meridon
complied.

  “I told you to bind him with chain,” Gillard snarled at his men. “Why didn’t you?”

  “Well, er. …” said the one with the bloody arm. “It’s just that-“

  “You didn’t think it mattered,” Gillard snapped. “Fools? Did you at least bring them?”

  “Aye, my lord.” The able-bodied man hurried to the back of the room, rustled about, and returned with the chains. They clinked and rattled as he locked the manacles around the Terstan’s wrists.

  Gillard returned his attention to his brother, leering once again, and a reckless contempt welled up in Eldrin. “You may have the rest of the world charmed, Gillard, but I know what you are: a scheming bully who doesn’t know-“

  Gillard’s free hand smacked open-palmed against Eldrin’s cheek, knocking him into the wall, blinded and breathless.

  “You seem to have forgotten how to speak to me, brother,” Gillard said. “I trust you will not forget again.”

  Eldrin shook his head, gathered his faculties, and snorted, undaunted. “What does it matter? I don’t have much longer to live anyway, do I?”

  Gillard feigned hurt. “Kill my own flesh and blood? What do you take me for? One of your Mataian hypocrites?” He slid his rapier into its scabbard, then hooked his thumbs into the belt again. “I may hate to claim kinship with you, but I’ll not commit fratricide. No, I act on orders of the king.”

  “Liar?” Meridon cried.

  Gillard looked at him quizzically. “Exile was never the plan, my Terstan friend. It held too many risks. If either of you came back, Raynen would be sorely embarrassed. He has helped a condemned murderer to escape, after all. He’d be forced to abdicate. Personally I don’t think you’re worth the trouble, but he cares for you.” His voice hardened. “It is that alone which spares your life. Be grateful.”

  They glared at one another, but Meridon said nothing.

  “So what do you mean to do with us?” Eldrin demanded.