"Lothar!" I forced myself to ignore the throbbing waves of torment threatening to suck me down within death's black undertow. I rolled to my stomach and dragged myself toward the circle's open edge. He could not be gone!
Nearer the cliff, I focused on a pale spot amid the grasses at the cliffs edge. I lunged forward and locked my right hand on it. I felt flesh!
"Lothar, I've got you, I've got you." I pulled myself closer and looked over the edge.
Supported by his right hand, Lothar hung there. He reached out with his right foot and just managed to reach a toehold. I felt the tension ease in his forearm, but I did not slacken my grip. Beneath him the Tal River swirled itself into a froth among the rocks and shot a thousand boiling bubbles through a pool. The rocks reminded me of teeth and the water ran through them like saliva through the fangs of a starving beast. It wanted Lothar, but I would defy it.
The Janian looked up at me utterly puzzled. He said something, but the river's howl gobbled up the words.
I shook my head. "I will not let you die." I reached down with my left hand and grabbed the left shoulder of his tunic. "On three."
I must have counted because I remember pulling with all my might, and I felt Lothar rise above me, but there my memories end. The effort wrung too much pain from me, and I succumbed to the black shroud it dropped over me.
* * *
I awoke in the infirmary, in a bed I knew all too well, and felt absolutely no pain. My eyes popped open and I focused on Marana, Jevin, and Adamik. The latter two smiled, but Marana's expression did not change. Only a single tear rolling down her right cheek even suggested she'd noticed me.
I looked at the Wizard. "How long have I been here?"
"Four days."
His reply took my breath away. Assuming they'd gotten to me quickly, that was a great deal longer than I'd have expected to heal two knife wounds. I suddenly realized how close to death I must have actually been. "Why so long?"
The Fealareen's brow knotted and his smile faded. "You lost a great deal of blood. If Marana had not headed out there to try and stop you two, help would have arrived too late." Jevin nodded at Marana and I smiled in her direction.
"I owe you my life." I reached out and took her right hand in mine.
"I live for you, Nolan, I will not have you abandon me." She delivered the words flatly, as if stating a law.
I squeezed her hand, and felt a flicker of response. "I will be here for you always."
I released her hand, eased myself up into a bit more of a sitting position, and looked around the room. Something struck me as very wrong. All the other beds were empty. I fought the coldness in my stomach, and turned to Jevin. "Where is Lothar?"
The Fealareen's face closed up. "You do not remember?"
I shook my head slowly because the only obvious conclusion I could draw from Jevin's question stole all words from me.
Lord Hansur appeared soundlessly in the doorway beyond Jevin. He nodded at all three Talions and they filed from the room to leave us alone. He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "Nolan, Lothar ra Jania is dead."
I shook my head vehemently. "No, he cannot be dead. He was hurt, yes, badly hurt, but I helped him back over the cliff. I know it." Tears poured from my eyes and tasted salty on my tongue.
Lord Hansur stared at me, then reached out and rested a hand on my right shoulder. "You tried to save him, I am certain, Nolan, but he must have blacked out and fallen back. It is not your fault."
I fought with myself and squeezed my eyes tight to stop the tears. I reached down and threw my covers off. I wiped tears from my face with my left forearm. I sniffed, then cleared my throat. "Please tell me you have not buried him. I wish to see him." I swung my feet around and sat on the edge of the bed.
Lord Hansur gently pushed me back onto the bed, and I was too weak to resist. "You cannot see his body. He fell into the river and his body has not yet been recovered."
I tried to speak around the lump in my throat but I could have more easily brought Lothar back from the dead. If they'd not found his body in four days it would never be found. I had killed Lothar. I loved him like a brother and he died by my hand.
No Shar could ever take the stain of his blood from my soul.
* * *
Lothar's death, while not a crime according to the Talions because it happened within Cirhon, infuriated the Janian royal house. They reacted poorly when told of his death and demanded I be put on trial for murder, but that was no more or less than they would have asked of the government of the place where one of their nationals had been killed. It seemed, for a week or so, that the incident would quickly be forgotten once Lothar was buried in the family crypts.
When His Excellency informed the royal family they could not have Lothar's body, they renewed and strengthened their demand for a trial. The Master himself drafted a missive to them that explained the fight had been a lawful duel and, consequently, I would not be tried or punished.
Jania reacted harshly. They expelled all Talions from the country, and recalled all Janian Talions. They tried me in absentia and imposed a death sentence on me. Because the verdict and sentence only named a Talion—neither His Excellency or the Master named me to the Janians—all Talions were instructed to stay clear of Jania, and thus began the Interdiction.
In spite of the fact that Lothar had not been rational when we fought, it took me months to come to grips with my guilt. I had been the instrument of his death, and he certainly meant to slay me, but I had to hope those last words he spoke, the ones I never heard because of the river, told me he forgave me. I read that intent in his eyes, or, at least, I imagined I did, and I had to hope he died knowing I loved him despite our differences. Lothar had died by my hand—my bungled rescue attempt dropped him in the river and proved deadlier than driving a broken rib into his heart. There was no way for me to avoid claiming his death as my own. I accepted that.
During that time, though, I learned why the place where we fought aptly bore the name the Haunted Circle. It was not for the countless Talion shades tied to that spot. It came from the memories of the fight that haunted everyone who ever survived a battle there.
* * *
Late one night, under a full Wolf Moon, I carried a silver bowl made in Jania down to the Tal River. I filled it with water and carried it to the grove of trees overlooking the Talion graveyard. I carefully selected the tree I imagined growing closest to the secret entrance into the treasure trove beneath Talianna. I muttered a funeral prayer I half remembered from childhood, poured the water on the tree, and carved Lothar's name in its bark with my ryqril.
I knelt there in silence, then smiled and whispered gently. "This is for you, my friend, for the person you were before we fought, and for the Justice you would have been."
I stood; then, satisfied, I walked away. I left the tree as a living monument to the Lothar I had known. In my mind, he now guarded Vaughan's secret. It was honorable duty, to guard that secret; duty worthy of a noble.
I thought Lothar would be proud.
I hoped I would be forgiven.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Talion: Revenant
The cold kiss of the tomb floor sank into numbness along with the warmth of the blood pouring from my chest. The shackles of pain binding me fell away. I felt lighter and, as mad as it seemed, I knew I could stand. I wasn't dead.
I stood, then looked down and saw myself standing above my body.
I heard mild laughter from behind me and turned. The stone effigy carved from the coffin lid on a Queen's tomb sat upright, then twisted to sit on the coffin's edge. The statue's blank eyes darkened and became windows to infinity.
I bowed reverently and knelt. "I praise thy name, Most Holy Shudath."
The granite eyebrows tilted in a frown.
"Seconds ago you mocked my warning, now you praise my name. You are fickle, Talion."
I shook my head. "Not fickle, foolish."
Her laughter again played from the ston
y throat, but my attention was drawn to a spot behind her. I saw a dot of light flare and expand until it became a round doorway into a realm of only light. It drew me as a candle draws a moth, and though I sensed peace within that brilliant realm, I dreaded it.
I looked at the Goddess. "It is done?"
The statue shrugged carelessly. "Your mission? Yes, the nekkebt has been stopped."
Again the circle of light commanded my attention. I saw shapes moving within it, much as I'd seen shapes moving with the dark void I'd experienced in Talianna. I counted eight of them, grouped together, who appeared intent upon me. Slowly they took shape and became more solid. I recognized my parents first, then my grandmother and my brothers and sisters. All my dead waited for me beyond that portal.
I stood and walked toward them with faltering steps. "My family, they are there."
The statue nodded solemnly. "Indeed they are. They have waited for you. If you wish to surrender to the peace, you will be reunited with them."
Her words stopped me. I turned. "You said my mission was complete." I spat the words from my mouth. "I have earned my rest."
Divine laughter lashed out and burned me like vitriol with its scorn. "Have you, Talion? Have you earned anything? Think about your family, then what has happened here. Tell me, after you consider that all, tell me you have earned eternal bliss."
Facts I'd known, but ignored, congealed within my mind and gave shape to a horror that had lurked in the background since this mission started. I'd been assigned to destroy the nekkeht and anyone outside Talianna who knew of it. I'd been lucky enough to stumble over the mastermind's identity, but I'd not discovered how he first learned of nekkehts.
Only Talions knew nekkehts existed, and the Duke's knowledge of nekkehts meant someone was a traitor. Stopping the Duke's plot meant nothing if the traitor escaped to continue his actions. But only I knew a traitor existed, and that information had to be shared.
I suddenly realized that if Talions were involved in the Duke's plot, the nekkeht's destruction meant nothing toward stopping the plot. Assassins could slaughter the whole royal family and support the Duke's assumption of the throne. Any lord who did not back the Duke would be destroyed outright by the Talions, or would be devoured piecemeal by loyalists.
The picture of armies swarming over Hamis crawled into my mind. I saw a lone farmhouse and a renegade patrol stopping to rape and murder. I heard the screams of homeless orphans, and I recognized my own voice as the loudest amid the chorus.
My family faded from sight beyond the Goddess and I focused on her. "It would have been so nice, so appropriate to die here."
She shook the stone head slowly. "Appropriate for burial, Talion, but not a place for death." The effigy lay back down and the eyes drained of color. "Save yourself."
Agony lanced through me and tore like a series of barbed hooks across my consciousness, but I did not scream. As much as I hurt, worse than I ever had before, I was not dead, and that was cause enough to hold me together so I could act. I had to act.
I retreated within and touched the rhasa souls. As I had done before in Talianna when I made the mouse nekkeht, I coaxed them out and forced them down my arm. I felt them gather in my hand, all expectant and filled with eagerness. Then, with the cold numbness of death nibbling at my face and feet, I pushed them into my body.
They rushed into my side and defiantly banished death. They devoured the pain and filled me with a buoyant joy. They soothed every ache, calmed every nerve and fortified every muscle. Death was the absence of life, but the rhasa souls crowding my body were pure life.
I reached inside and monitored my injuries. The ryqril had pierced my heart and the punctured chamber still pumped and leaked blood into my chest. I touched a rhasa soul and directed it toward the wound. It swirled around the laboring organ and sealed the hole without scar or seam.
Another soul, sensing my desire to be whole, sank into my knee and pieced the bone back together as if it were nothing more than a broken plate. It took joy in sliding each bone fragment into the correct position. It could have just melted it all into a bony putty, then reshaped my kneecap, but this was the right way to accomplish my goal.
Healing naturally is a function of life.
The other souls sought out the injuries to my ribs and lungs and finger. The hole in my side closed without effort or a scar, and the lung the ryqril had punctured reinflated without pain. The bruise over my heart from the nekkeht's blow to my chest vanished, ribs reseated themselves in my breastbone, and the swollen lump on the back of my head shrank.
Their tasks complete, rhasa souls awaited my next command. Did I want them to fill my muscles so I could shatter stone with a kick or armor my flesh so swords or fire could not hurt me? They offered to end my need for air and food. They would do anything for me, all I had to do was ask.
I thought about the portal beyond which I'd seen my dead. I commanded the souls to gather in my right palm, and I opened it. "I want you to do one more thing for me. Carry a message to those I have lost and tell them I still love and revere them."
Five otterlike threads of light drifted like smoke from my palm. They waited until all had left me, then cavorted, twisting and turning, through the air. Then, after only a second or two of celebration, they coalesced into a brilliant, living white ball. It imploded upon itself and disappeared without sound or trace.
* * *
The nekkeht had cleared enough of the collapsed tunnel roof to let me squeeze through. I stumbled along in the darkness and cautiously felt my way up the tunnel. The lack of a light made the journey difficult, but I did not regret for an instant destroying all Gyasi's candles by using the ancient magick command that rekindled the flames that once burned to honor the Hamisian dead.
I reached the tower itself quickly and climbed the stairs to the upper levels. I knew the secret entrance to the King's level was behind a washstand like the one in my suite, though the King's study was located in the same spot as my suite's library. I hoped nothing obstructed the door, because I wanted to enter the upper floor unseen. The Talion who had thrown the knife—my mind reeled at the thought of Lothar having joined with Duke Vidor—clearly had preceded me into the Tower. I had to assume the others had not gotten the King to safety and act accordingly to save him. My only advantage lay in the fact that Lothar believed I was dead.
I reached above the lintel and pressed the panel that released the washbasin. It slid forward and grated, but the sound could never have been heard over the Duke's irate shouting in the King's study.
"How could I do this? Ha! You sound offended, my King, that I could have betrayed you so. You slew my father and brother, then brought me here and made me a court pet. My vaunted rank of Duke meant nothing because I was the Duke of Sinjaria, not of Hamis. I ranked below a Count in your court. How long did you think I would suffer this insulting treatment?"
I slipped from behind the washstand but did not shut it. I saw Morai standing with his back to the King's gryphon-fireplace, but the bedroom wall blocked everyone else from view. I knew the bandit spotted me, but he kept all evidence of his discovery from his face.
I heard Count Patrick laugh; then the sound of fist striking flesh exploded through the room. Morai winced and I heard the Princess cry out, but no one else reacted until the King spoke.
"Enough, Duke Vidor. If you wish to have him pay for his 'insult' strike him yourself. Do not have your pet Talion do it for you." The King's voice lapsed, then sounded again. "I understand why you acted, but I wonder what the Talions' broader plans are, and what motivates them? Tell me, Talion, why are you part of this?"
Her answer plunged an ice-dagger into my heart. "I did it for Sinjaria."
I stepped from the King's bedroom and faced her. "No, Marana, no."
Her eyes blazed with insanity. "Nolan! Thank the gods you are alive!" She smiled at me and waited for praise.
The Duke frowned. "I thought you said he was dead!"
Marana shrugged and let
her head loll to the side like a child in a daze. "I was wrong."
The Duke growled. "Then kill him now!"
Marana's left hand blurred as she struck. She plucked the Duke's dagger from the sheath over his right hip and, without moving from beside him, drove it through his right shoulder. The backhanded blow carried him backward, and Marana moved with it but did not release the hilt until the blade pinned the Duke to the wooden shelves behind him. The Duke screamed and stood on tiptoes to ease the pain.
To her right the King, seated at a mahogany desk, stared at her. Kneeling before the desk, Count Patrick gawked at the Duke's dangling form. Princess Zaria, standing between the Count and Morai, hid her pale face in her hands. The Duke moaned and screwed his face tight against the pain.
Marana giggled. "I didn't know you were the Talion the nekkeht was waiting to kill. I didn't want to kill you, Nolan, but after you killed the nekkeht I knew you would spoil everything if I didn't." Her singsong voice filled the room with childish tones. "I wasn't going to do what they wanted, no," she smiled at me, "I did it for you." Her left hand stroked her flat stomach. "I did it for our child, your heir."
Stunned, I could think of no reply.
The Duke struggled against the shock of his wound. "What are you talking about?"
Marana reached over and ripped the dagger from his shoulder. He tried to catch himself before he fell, but she forced him to the ground with an open-handed slap. "Kneel, peasant." She threatened the others with the bloody dagger. "Kneel, all of you! Kneel before your King."
"No, Marana, no!" I swallowed hard as my friends yielded to her threats and sank to their knees.
She stood tall and gloated. "Kneel before Nolan ulHamis and let justice reign!" She turned to me and smiled. "Which one shall I kill first for you?"
I shook my head. "None of these, Marana. It is over."
She laughed. "No, Nolan, it just begins. Since you are alive you will be made King of Hamis. Our child will be your heir. We will take our troops—Talion troops—and forge a new Empire! What better monument for your family, and for the Prince this branch of the family usurped and murdered? Who will die first?"
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