“You see, Therth is cousin to Heldon, Honroth, Theran and myself, and yes, the similarities were done purposely, thanks to our late father King Sindric. Therth was Theran’s double, while Heldon often acted as Honroth. I had my own double, Loroth—Therth’s brother.” He conjured a life-size image of him. “But he died saving my life, so I could stand before you all and tell you this. And for the record, King Roskelem, Loroth’s widow is Vixen. The very assassin you tried to have me kill.” His eyes hardened as he recalled how Fawn had whisked Vixen’s unresponsive body away.
However, Lorrek went on, “Atheta loved Therth—not Theran.” He gave Theran an apologetic look. “Your drunken habits proved unattractive—my apologies, brother.” He bowed his head to him then lifted his chin once more and went on. “You see, Therth often doubled as Theran when he was too drunk to even walk straight, and Princess Atheta fell in love with him, thinking he was Theran. Nevertheless, when she discovered the difference, she also learned the feeling was mutual, so therefore they confirmed their love for one another one night.
“Several weeks later, I sensed the faintest sign of life within her, and I confronted her about it. During this confrontation, King Roskelem, you interrupted. You must have heard enough of the conversation to know that she was pregnant, but you wrongly assumed that I was the father. One thing led to another, and your own mind deceived you—”
“You vanished that day!” Roskelem snapped, and he strained against his bonds. When he couldn’t free himself, he sneered. “What was I supposed to think? Only the guilty flee.”
Lorrek’s eyes flashed with fury, but he made a fist to keep from striking out at the man. “I had no choice. You unleashed your newly discovered power, and you were killing me. You almost killed Loroth and Atheta, and I would not allow that to happen, so that is why I magicked them out of there with me. I attempted to magick us back to Cuskelom, thinking that was where Theran was, but we ended up in another realm—Endleath.”
Theran bowed his head when he heard this then nodded. “Father had banished me from his presence for my recklessness a bit prior to your appearance there, Lorrek.”
Lorrek nodded then began to pace the room before all those gathered. Now was his chance to clear his name, and he knew another chance to do so might never come.
Gathering a deep breath, he turned and faced the people once more. “Upon arriving there, I was drained of my magic and in terrible condition due to my confrontation with you, Roskelem.” He scowled at the man but then went on. “Atheta panicked—not understanding your actions or how magic affected you. She almost lost her child in her panic. So I made a choice—a difficult one, and one not easily remedied. I captured her memories and took them from her. In their place, I cast an ongoing spell upon her, so she would recognize all those she met on Endleath and they would know her as well. I let some people discover her, and they took her to an infirmary, and she has been in the care of those friends ever since.
“Meanwhile, I was dying, and Loroth realized I had much left to do—much to fix—so he drained all his magic into me to heal me. In doing so, he died. Needless to say I eventually found Theran, and then Honroth summoned us back here where one of Jechorm’s machines was attacking. In that attack my father died, and I was forced to cast the machine into the Orb of Oblivion. I fell in as well—in order to save the kingdom.
“Ten years hence, I found my way back, but I had learned what rumors you have spread of me, King Roskelem, and I was greatly displeased.” Lorrek glared a moment longer at the king of Serhon then yanked his gaze off him to glance around at the others gathered. “And that, my friends, is the truth.” He locked eyes with Haskel. “Just as I told you when you took me to your father’s dungeon. Ironic, is it not, how you preferred to believe a lie?”
Uneasy silence settled on all the souls in the chamber. Gremina shared a glance with Haskel, and finally Haskel could not restrain himself any further. “If what you say is true, then where is Atheta? Why not go retrieve her from this Endleath world?”
A slight smile—void of humor—tugged at Lorrek’s lips as he lifted his icy eyes to the prince of Serhon. He thought of how perfectly he had planned everything, but how all his plans had depended on Atheta willingly returning to their homeworld together. He never expected her to refuse to come with him, but he respected her choice. Drawing back his shoulders, he nodded at Haskel as he answered his question. “I just returned from Endleath—from speaking with her. I fully expected her to rejoice for the chance to come home when I restored her memories, yet...” His eyes drifted as he trailed off.
“Yet what?” Roskelem’s harsh voice demanded to know, and Lorrek locked eyes on him and then on Therth behind him.
“Yet she has found a new life of her own there. She has her own family there now, and not only the son she had with Therth.” At a gesture of his hand, he conjured an image of the children he had seen playing on the balcony as well as images of Atheta and Rickar standing side-by-side with her gentle hand on his arm. “This is her family here, and this is where she belongs—for now at least. She wouldn’t leave, and I wouldn’t make her. However, she did have something to say.” With a brief wave of his hand, all the images faded except the one of Atheta, and she looked straight at Lorrek.
“I don’t know what has happened, but all I do know is that you saved my life. My father tried to kill you, and I was caught in the middle. He almost killed me...and my son.” She lifted her gaze as if to look at something on the balcony. The sight humored her, bringing a slight smile to her lips, but then she looked back down at the man before her. “You did what you had to do to save us. You brought us here when you were wounded and dying. I don’t understand how Loroth died and you lived, but I can imagine. I don’t blame you, Lorrek—not for any of this. You did what you could do for us at the time.” She nodded. “I understand that now. Yes, I have a lot to consider and remember, but thank you—for coming back and showing me the truth.” She smiled at him. “Now go home. Tell my family I love them, and I wish they could meet my children, but I am happy here.” She stepped back—beside Rickar. “Go home.”
The image faded, and Lorrek stepped back, nodding. “And that is all I have to say.” Straightening, he looked to see what others might say but found they only exchanged glances—speechless. He frowned. “And so this is redemption? Well, that is utterly anticlimactic.” Yet he felt no redemption in his soul. Rather he felt he had failed Loroth all those years ago. With a sigh, he pushed this out of his mind and focused on the more pressing matter at hand.
His gaze fell upon Verddra and Roskelem, and his eyes darkened. “Despite the wrongs you think I’ve done, you have demonstrated this day how far you will go for your own gain, and you have wronged many lands this day.” Lorrek marched up to their prisoners, signaling for the guards to haul them to their feet. “Him and her.” He pointed to Roskelem and Verddra then snapped his fingers and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Bring them.” Then he turned and headed for a back room from the council hall and locked eyes with Theran and Heldon along the way. “Theran, there is a matter you must address with Therth. Heldon and I will settle this. Heldon, bring Honroth’s handblade.”
Theran narrowed his eyes when he heard this but rose to his feet. “Do not kill them, little brother.”
Lorrek smirked up at him—glad for once to hear the title ‘little brother’—but bowed to him. “You have my word.” Straightening, he motioned for Heldon to follow, and the group went to the back room.
Gathering his courage in a breath, Theran set his gaze upon Therth, seeing him with new eyes and realizing how unfair he had been to Therth in forcing him to be his decoy when Theran himself could not act responsibly. All those years ago he never once gave thought to his cousin as an actual person but rather a convenience, and Therth had never voiced a protest. Now Theran knew why. Part of him wanted to rage against his cousin for lying and concealing the truth from him, yet all these years of wandering and searching had worn Theran down.
Theran narrowed his eyes upon his cousin. His gloved fingers began to curl into a fist on the armrests of the throne, but Theran stopped himself. Why the throne hadn’t broken when he sat, he didn’t know, but he didn’t want to be responsible for breaking it, so he forced himself to remain calm.
“Therth...” His voice boomed in the now hollow hall. “You loved Princess Atheta?” When his cousin gave no answer but lowered his head, Theran demanded with a sharp voice, “Did you love Atheta?”
“Yes!” Therth snapped his fiery gaze up to Theran and opened his mouth with a full explanation, yet he hesitated—recalling this man before him was the true heir of Cuskelom. Though they were cousins, Therth had no right to the throne, and Theran could punish him in any way he saw fit. Pressing his lips together, Therth let himself slip into the old familiar skin of a shadow—a servant to the royal family of Cuskelom. He bowed his head once more and spoke with more calm, “Yes...yes, I did.”
Theran saw how his cousin almost snapped but restrained himself, and he wished Therth had broken his calm. It would have given Theran an excuse to reply in turn. Yet now Theran observed all things as a king would, and briefly he wondered how Honroth had handled everything so calmly. Dismissing this from his mind, he focused on his cousin. “You knew she was my betrothed.”
Therth locked eyes with him, never wavering. “I knew, and I had to be you sometimes.”
“You did not have to take it that far!”
These words strung Therth deeply, but he willed himself to remain calm. His hands slowly clenched into fists at his sides. “Perhaps if you were not a drunken fool all the time who required a decoy, then she would have fallen in love with you.”
Theran shifted his jaw, trying to determine how to respond, but one question plagued his mind. “Did she know?” When Therth tilted his head in confusion, Theran went on, “Did she knew who you really were, or did she believe you were me?”
A moment passed as Therth considered his words, but finally he pulled back his shoulders and tucked his hands behind his back, staring at Theran’s face. “She knew I was not you.”
“And yet she still allowed this?”
Therth paused. Taking a deep breath, he looked back at Theran and took a careful step towards him. “She did not love you.” He saw the deep hurt within Theran, and he hastened to explain. “At times she thought she did, but as we talked, we realized those instances were the times when I had pretended to be you. To her, you were always a loud and riotous man...” But he trailed off, knowing such words were worthless now.
Finally, he came to the foot of the dais and dropped to a knee bowing his head before Theran. “I have greatly wronged the House of Sindric with my actions and brought great ruin upon this family. My brother is dead, your father is dead—if Lorrek had been here instead of on Endleath with you, he might have been able to save the king.” Therth lifted his pained eyes to his cousin. “Lorrek has carried heavy accusations all these years, and through my alliance with Countess Verddra, I had a hand in bringing this great war upon Cuskelom and therefore killing Honroth as well.” He lowered his head once more. “I accept responsibility for my actions and will adhere to whatsoever punishment you see fit.”
Words failed Theran. He didn’t know what to do. They looked to him as king, but he had never accepted that title. Shaking his head, he rose from the throne, hesitated, but finally made his way down the dais. “Therth...” He still knew not where to start or what to say, but he knew he had to say something. “You are family. Yes, you have wronged us, and yes, you will be punished accordingly, but...not right now. Lorrek, Heldon, and I will discuss this, but first Countess Verddra and King Roskelem will be handed their sentences. You are not our prisoner, and you have fought well to preserve Cuskelom. This will be remembered. For now, go to your old chambers, refresh yourself, eat, and wait. We will send for you when we have come to a decision.”
Theran saw the bewilderment in Therth’s face, but he nodded, bowed his head, then rose to his feet once more, and turned to leave.
Once the council hall doors closed behind Therth with a resounding ‘boom’, leaving only Theran in the room, Theran allowed himself to sigh then shoot his gaze to the back room of the hall where Heldon had accompanied Lorrek, Verddra, and Roskelem. Theran had no idea what Lorrek planned as punishment for the two magic users who had wronged him so terribly, but he knew he should observe in case something went wrong. He had finally found his little brother again, and he had no desire to lose him now.
He headed for the closed door.
37
Theran stepped into the room, and the guards closed the door behind him. He saw the small circular setting of the windowless chamber and recalled the many times his father had held private conferences with others delegates to discuss sensitive matters. Theran was more familiar with this room than his other brothers because after his father’s guards would drag him out of a tavern and back to the palace, they always took him to this room where the king proceeded to upbraid Theran for his reckless behavior. This was one of the last places Theran had stood before his father as the king announced his banishment from Cuskelom to Endleath. Theran had tried to change his father’s mind, but then Sindric marched out into the council hall and announced it to all those present.
Then he banished him to Endleath.
The next time Theran came to Cuskelom, he saw his father dying on the ground in the massive chamber of the Porta Cosmica.
He almost found it ironic in a very sad way.
“Honroth’s handblade.” Lorrek’s voice captured Theran’s attention, and Theran set his gaze to the center of the room where Lorrek stood between the kneeling Verddra and Roskelem with his hand reached out to Heldon.
Heldon reached into his tunic and pulled out the bracelet form of a handblade then handed it to Lorrek, and Theran stood back with arms crossed to see what his magical brother would do. After all these years searching for Lorrek and believing his little brother was still alive, it was hard to grasp the fact that he had been right all along and that Lorrek stood before him and wasn’t about to disappear.
Accepting the handblade, Lorrek placed it on his wrist. He narrowed his eyes and directed his magic into the bracelet, activating it as a weapon. Metal scales crawled over his hand into a gauntlet, and the thin black oval blade slid from the bracelet.
Lorrek lifted it, admiring it. “I have never worn one of these. My father deemed it unnecessary due to all my powers, and now I understand. It is powerful—very, very powerful.” He slowly lowered the blade to Roskelem’s throat and met the king’s glare with a dull stare. “If only you had known the true power behind the bracelets of Cuskelom, you would not have gone to Jechorm to seek power. You would have inquired of my father, and perhaps he would have granted it to you. Nonetheless...” He lifted the blade again away from Roskelem. “That is something you shall never know.”
Roskelem merely narrowed his eyes. “So you are going to kill me now?”
Lorrek shook his head. “That would be too easy, and justice should be something you bear in mind for a long, long time.”
“Then what will you do?” Verddra glared at him but had little strength for much else. Ever since Heldon had stabbed her shoulder—though Caleth healed her arms and the flesh wound—she felt drained and wished to sleep to recollect her thoughts and her strategies, and gather her strength. However, as if they knew that, none of her captors allowed her to rest, and when she was tired, she had little patience.
Glancing to the countess, Lorrek acknowledged her with a nod. “Y
ou are only here to be sentenced, Countess Verddra. The first part of your punishment has already been dealt—by Prince Heldon as a matter of fact.” He pointed his handblade at his brother, who frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“The handblade on your left hand.” Lorrek motioned to the bracelet that still glowed with power. “As you know this specialized weapon has the ability to absorb any sort of power—whether it be fire, lightning, or any other kind of energy.” He withdrew his handblade and examined the smooth blade—trailing his fingers along it. “Magic is simply another form of energy it can capture, and what you have done, Heldon, was drained Countess Verddra of her magic completely—”
“What?!” Verddra straightened. She knew some of her magic had been drained, but completely? She narrowed her eyes at the center of the room to conjure a fiery orb, but only a puff of smoke appeared. Her jaw dropped, and she shot Lorrek a look. “What have you done to me?”
Lorrek cast his gaze heavenward and threw his hands in the air. “Why does everyone think I had something to do with it? I wasn’t even there.” Shaking his head, he set his eyes back onto the others then gestured between Heldon and Verddra. “When he stabbed you, his handblade absorbed your magic—”
“But that should kill a magic user!”
“That myth has never been confirmed.” Caleth countered Verddra’s protest, and he leveled her with a hard look. “We never wanted anyone to extract our magic—else it could lead to terrible consequences because the power cannot simply vanish; it must go somewhere.”
“And that is where this handblade comes in.” Lorrek held it up for inspection.
Tired of the roundabout talk, Theran crossed his arms. “What are you going to do, Lorrek?”
The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set Page 75