Fate of the Tyrant (The Eoriel Saga Book 3)

by Kal Spriggs

  ***

  Mari

  Mari gave the shocked soldiers a smirk as she twisted the dagger in Sergeant Millar's frontal lobe. He would have died anyway from where she'd severed both of his femoral arteries, but there was no need for him to suffer. She would have preferred to drug or subdue him and his men individually, but it seemed she'd have to do things the hard way.

  As their sergeant dropped lifeless to the ground, the three men drew blades. Wisely, two of them advanced while the third ran towards the door to give warning.

  Mari calmly judged the distance and then threw her dagger with practiced ease. It caught the runner in the back of the neck, just at the base of his skull and the man dropped.

  "You wouldn't attack an unarmed woman, would you?" Mari asked with mock fear as the two men advanced cautiously. She could tell they were well-trained and she even saw some of Valdar's training in how they came forward.

  To their credit, neither of them hesitated or asked for her to surrender. She liked to fight professionals.

  She waited as one of them lunged and pirouetted out of the way, trapping his arm and whipping a second dagger out of her sleeve and across his throat. As he stumbled back, Mari stepped into the second man's swing and plunged her dagger up under his jaw, severing his carotid artery and spraying hot blood across her face.

  Both men stumbled back, choking on their own blood as it spurted through their fingers. She sidestepped the one man as he tried to stab her and fell to his knees. Mari pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the blood off her face as she calmly walked past them to the door they had guarded.

  She opened it with a smile. "Hello, brother."

  Konstantin gave her a dour look. "You got blood on your dress." Always focused on the job, Mari thought. Konstantin's lack of humor stood in contrast to her favorite brother. Valdar always was more fun, she thought, a pity he always fights father.

  Mari stepped out of his way as he and the dozen men he led swarmed into the room. Konstantin saw one of the guards trying to crawl away and casually stabbed downward to sever his spine. "Any others?" Konstantin asked, even as he wiped his blade.

  "No," Mari said. "Most of the soldiers are at the feast celebrations."

  Konstantin gave a sharp nod. "Good. Where is Valdar?"

  "Sulking in his quarters," Mari rolled her eyes, "just as you predicted."

  "Of course," Konstantin nodded. He gestured at one of his men, who held out a package. Konstantin passed it to Mari. "Get dressed."

  Mari sighed as she took the dress. Apparently Konstantin knew her too well. "Where shall I change?" She had hoped that bloodying her dress would mean he would release her from the rest of her tasks tonight.

  Konstantin gave her a level look and she rolled her eyes again as she stripped down. She made sure to give her brother's men an eyeful as she wiped the blood off her naked skin with her soiled dress. She could tell that they were at once fascinated and terrified of her. Good, she thought, they'll be less likely to underestimate my abilities if they're afraid of me.

  She dressed quickly enough and took the daggers that Konstantin retrieved from the bodies of the men she'd killed, tucking them away, along with the three others she hadn't used in the fight. Konstantin passed her two vials of poison and she rolled her eyes at that, but she tucked them away as well.

  When she was finished, she was the very image of a young servant girl. "Ready?" She asked.

  Konstantin just gave her a nod, "Lead the way."

  ***

  Captain Aerion Swordbreaker

  Aerion adjusted the tunic and pants for the fourth or fifth time and grimaced. A gift from the Wold, the clothing was supposed to show how they valued him. He had kept it, but it felt far too ostentatious to wear, even on an occasion like this. Only, somehow Quinn had mentioned it to Lady Katarina, who had insisted he wear it.

  Aerion took one last glance at himself in the polished bronze mirror in the hallway and then let out a sigh. He hoped that he didn't look too much the arrogant fool. The only good thing about it was the spell-weaves worked into the cloth, in his opinion. The tunic seemed to pull too tight across his shoulders and the pants hugged his legs in a fashion that almost felt obscene. The colors, at least, didn't clash like some of the nobility's outfits he had seen so far.

  He walked down the corridor, head down so he wouldn't have to make eye contact.

  As he walked down the corridor, he wondered if he could make an excuse to leave the feast early, just to avoid having to wear the absurd outfit too long. I can go around and check my guardposts, he thought to himself, that will give me reason to change, maybe I can drag Walker along with me so he'll tell me what's wrong.

  He rounded a corner and then ran full into a man. Only Aerion's reflexes let him catch the man before he fell. "My apologies," he said, even as he recognized Padrek. But he's in Lady Katarina's personal guard...

  "Aerion," Lady Katarina said, "Perhaps you should pay a bit more attention to where you're going, I wouldn't want you bowling over my personal guards on a regular basis." Aerion found himself matching the warm smile on her face. "I see you're headed to the feast."

  He flushed as her eyes swept him from head to foot. He felt like a chicken at the market, being sized up for the pot. "I must say, the Wold apparently have excellent taste in fashion, wouldn't you say, Lord Garrel?"

  "Hmmm?" Lord Garrel asked. Aerion hadn't even noticed Lord Joris's younger son. While Aerion wanted to hate him, the most he could muster over Lady Katarina's betrothed was sullen resentment. By all accounts, Lord Garrel spent more time with ink and parchment than with sword or armor. "Ah, yes, very interesting," Lord Garrel said. "I must say, I know little about such things myself, but I can express some jealousy over the effect, Captain Swordbreaker."

  Despite himself, Aerion snorted at the joke. Lord Garrel was portly and on the short side. That he was confident enough to make a joke at his expense said good things about him. Especially compared to his father, Aerion thought.

  "Well, perhaps if Aerion ever visits them again he can ask them for a dress for me and a similar outfit for you," Katarina said. Aerion noticed her dress, then. It was red and white, the heavy cloth worked with silver strands. While it didn't cling to her like one of the Wold dresses might, it did accentuate her figure. It softened her athletic figure in a way that he couldn't describe. Her pale skin stood out against the red of her dress and her midnight hair, elaborately coiffed, held a silver tiara.

  Aerion thought Katarina looked beautiful wearing armor and stained with mud and blood on the battlefield. Here, dressed as she was, she looked every inch the noblewoman... and it struck Aerion in a way that he couldn't describe. He was proud of her, that the fugitive girl had stepped into her own. Before he could stop himself, he spoke, "I don't think you'd need the Wold to make you a dress to look beautiful, my Lady."

  She responded with a genuine smile, though a moment later her gaze flicked to her betrothed. "Thank you, Captain," Lady Katarina responded. "Clearly you've been practicing your manners."

  "Quite the charmer," Lord Garrel said, "perhaps I should take notes."

  "I, uh, should be going," Aerion said. He gave a low bow, "My Lady and Lord." He stepped back and then turned and walked away. He didn't know where he was going, only that his feet would carry him away before he said something that would either get him hung or ruin Lady Katarina's reputation. Possibly both, he thought morbidly.

  Thankfully, his table was well away from hers. There would be no chance that he would say anything to make things worse.

  ***

  Lady Katarina Emberhill

  Katarina felt a flush rise in her cheeks at Aerion's words. A glance at her betrothed showed that he hadn't realized anything was amiss. Damn me, Katarina thought, I should have kept my mouth shut when I saw him.

  Yet he did look good. He looked better than good. She knew that Aerion had put on considerably more lean muscle from constant fighting and practice. The weight of responsibility had lent mat
urity to his face.... and his square jaw didn't help.

  She heard Lord Garrel make another friendly joke and then heard Aerion mutter something polite and leave, yet her gaze lingered on him as he hurried away.

  It wasn't mere physical attraction, she knew. Aerion was brave, honest, and almost fearless. His exploits had already become the talk of the Duchy... and while noblemen like Earl Joris had come to hate him for his competence, the general populace loved him for it. Aerion had become a symbol to them, that they could do anything.

  Some part of Katarina wanted to prove that even more true. She wanted to cast Lord Garrel aside, to break her alliance with the loathsome Earl Joris, and to grant Aerion a title and marry him.

  Yet she didn't dare. Even if she won this war with Lord Hector, there would be cycles of damage to repair. She would need the nobility, the trade classes, and the commoners to work together to heal those wounds... and making one of the most powerful nobles her sworn enemy would make her task all the harder.

  "My Lady," Bulmor grunted, "perhaps we should move on to the Great Hall?"

  Katarina looked over to see that her armsman wore a disapproving expression, "Of course," she said as she started to walk forward again. Fair enough, she thought, he's made his opinion very clear. Bulmor thought that she should send Aerion away, as far away as she could.

  She had tried. The assignment to the old Third Company had been an attempt. She certainly hadn't expected Aerion to rise so quickly through the ranks, but his actions at the Ryftguard had earned him his place. Certainly his successes at the Battle of Zeilona Gora and then throughout the long winter fighting had proven him.

  Yet as an officer, Aerion had been pushed into contact with her more than she had expected. And with every success, she was reminded of him and forced to think about him. In particular she remembered their rough kiss on the voyage to the Ryftguard... and how she ached for another moment stolen with him.

  "So," Lord Garrel interupted her thoughts, "I don't know if you realized it, but there are copies of old surveys from the Starborn's first arrival here in the archives."

  Katarina forced an interested expression onto her face, "Oh?" Please, she thought, get to the point quickly.

  "Yes, well," Lord Garrel began, "as you know, I've something of an interest in geology, being a naturalist. I took some time today to look through the geological surveys in the library archives. It's very interesting as a starting point to see their capabilities."

  "Yes," Katarina stifled a yawn, "they were very capable."

  "Well," Lord Garrel said, "If we have time, I'd like to compare some of their older surveys with the excavation histories that I've collected. It would be splendid to see how accurate their surveys and projections were, you know?"

  "Yes, that sounds very exciting," Katarina said with as much cheer as she could manage. She could easily picture her betrothed digging through towering piles of old books, possibly even causing an avalanche that might bury him. She tried very hard not to smirk at that thought. Not that he's a bad man, she thought, just a terribly boring one.

  "Yes, I hope you don't mind if I don't linger at the feast too long," Lord Garrel said. "I'd like to dig into that, since we may march soon."

  Thank the ancestors, Katarina thought. She gave him a smile, "No, that's quite alright." Maybe I could call up someone to the table to talk, perhaps I could make it an informal strategy session, perhaps call up some of the officers... like Aerion.

  ***

  Mari

  She sighed a bit as the last guard ceased his struggling and Konstantin eased him to the floor. As her brother unwrapped his garrote from the dead man's neck, she gave a slight sigh. "I could have subdued him myself, you know." This guard, like the three others that Konstantin had killed, need not have died. It seemed wasteful.

  Konstantin arched an eyebrow, "Yes, but would you have allowed him to give an alarm? I know you disapprove of this plan, for many reasons."

  Mari looked away. She knew better than to openly disobey their father's orders. Then again, she admitted to herself, if I saw an opportunity to subvert his orders...

  She didn't want this mission to succeed.

  Then again, it didn't matter what she wanted... because she knew the little freedoms that her father gave her were far more important than any small preferences she might have about tonight's activities.

  Konstantin turned and waved his men forward. They came up quickly, adjusting the uniforms they wore, before standing quietly, waiting for what came next. New recruits, she thought, always so eager to please. These twelve had been specially selected for this task, she knew. Not for their skill or their intelligence, though several of them had both in good measure.

  No, they had been selected because they were expendable. Mari almost felt sorry for them.

  "You know your orders," Konstantin said. "Get to your positions."

  ***

  Kara

  Kara looked up at a slight sound, barely heard. She looked over at her sleeping son, first, but he still slept peacefully.

  "Probably that ass, Lukas," She muttered to herself. Everyone else had gone to the feast, other than the handful of guards left to secure Lady Katarina's quarters. It had all gone very quiet. In fact, she thought, normally I can hear the guards.

  Kara felt suddenly wide awake as she drew her dagger and went to the door. Since Kara spent so much time with Lady Katarina, Kara had been given a set of senior servant's quarters just down the hall from Lady Katarina's suite. Kara stepped into the outer room and Lord LUkas turned. When he saw her drawn dagger, his eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to speak but Kara held one hand over her lips to silence him.

  Lord Lukas gave her a nod and drew his rapier. She hoped he actually knew how to use the blade.

  Kara went to the outer door and then cracked it open. Just down the hall, she saw the two guards outside Lady Katarina's quarters. Nothing amiss, she thought to herself.

  She almost stepped out into the hallway, but something held her in place. As she stared at the two guards, she felt that something was wrong. She realized that part of it was that she didn't recognize either of them.

  That in itself didn't make sense. She had interviewed every one of Lady Katarina's soldiers. Those chosen for her personal guard were ones that Kara dealt with on a regular basis. While Bulmor might have approved one new guard she hadn't interviewed, he would not have assigned two new ones to guard Lady Katarina's quarters, even when she wasn't around.

  As Kara stared at them, more and more details seemed off. Neither of them wore the right boots, the cut of their uniforms was just a little off. They both had shields and spears, but they also had swords, slung on a different belt and in an odd style.

  All of that meant they were impostors... but Kara didn't know how they had arrived in place without someone else noticing. I'm in the most protected part of the keep, she thought, surely someone must have noticed.

  Yet no cry of alarm had gone up.

  Kara slowly eased the door closed and turned to face Lord Lukas. "Someone has replaced the guards on Lady Katarina's door," Kara said in a low voice.

  His eyes went wide at that, "How?"

  Kara just shook her head. Her immediate instinct was to send him to get help, yet she hesitated. Her son was here. While he was asleep, he might well wake up and certainly would if she tried to move him. These impostors might well come to silence such a noise and she didn't know that she could hold out against a pair of armed men.

  She could leave to get help, certainly one woman would seem innocuous to them, more easily overlooked than an armed nobleman. Yet that would require her to leave her son in Lord Lukas's care. Did she dare to do that?

  Every second she delayed, she knew, was another second that these two and whoever else was with them would be free to move about the castle. They could be here to murder Lady Katarina, to poison or kill her troops... For that matter, she thought, the entire army is here... what if Ember Castle was some sort of trap?
>
  She didn't think even someone like Lord Hector would destroy the central seat of authority just to put down the uprising, but who knew what despicable thing he might do?

  "Dragonsbane," she spat. She really didn't like what that meant. She couldn't afford to leave her son here, not if this was all some terrible trap. She moved her room, leaving the door open as she stooped over her bead, picking up her son and shushing him as he stirred fitfully. "We need to warn Lady Katarina. You'll need to watch my back."

  "With my life," Lord Lukas said. For just a moment, his voice was so earnest, so honest that Kara thought of Josef. She felt her eyes mist up as she wished that he were here.

  Her face hardened though, "You'd better mean that."

  ***

  First Sergeant Walker

  Walker tilted the bottle back and caught the last couple of drops of wine on his tongue. Like their predicessors, they did little to improve his outlook.

  He tossed the empty bottle into the corner with the others and then put his head in his hands. What do I do?

  Walker didn't bother with prayers to his ancestors. They were evil enough that he didn't want their attention. He especially didn't want to pray to the spirits of Ember Castle. He could feel them, ancient and powerful, angry at his presence, but willing to leave him alone as long as he didn't feed off those they protected.

  They hated him because of what he had become, what the spirit of Dawnspring had made him. Demon, he thought and shuddered.

  He couldn't deny it now. He had all the signs that people were warned about, the signs that his father had cautioned him to beware should he see them in a target. His increasing strength, his insatiable hunger, the way that alcohol and other drugs seemed to have no effect upon him... and the surge of power that he felt as he drained the spirits of men and animals.

  I have to tell Aerion, Walker thought to himself, I have to tell him everything. He had no illusions that his friend would understand it all, but at least Aerion would support him, would stand with him. Perhaps the wizard Cederic might even have some way to help him.