by John Marco
It was signed very simply, Nina.
Eneas couldn’t stop his heart from thundering. A million questions raced through his mind, muddled by a million memories. His breath came in hurried, bewildered gasps. Nina! Here, at Gray Tower. Outside now, and waiting for him. He turned to look at Black perched on his shoulder.
‘My daughter,’ he said to the bird. ‘She’s here!’
‘No!’ Black barked at him. ‘No!’
Eneas ignored his friend. No one else could have sent Cackle to him. Cackle had been a gift to the girl; they would have bonded by now. And Enli was too foolish to ever control the creature. It had to be his daughter. He stared at the note, wondering what to do.
‘She’s too afraid to come to the tower,’ he surmised. No one came to Gray Tower for fear of the ravens. But she was probably alone and frightened. He had to hurry to her. He had to bring soldiers and warn the guardians that Enli was coming. Eneas put his hand to his mouth. If Enli was coming, they were all in grave danger. And how had Nina learned the truth of her birth? The duke rocked back and forth like an anxious child, unable to think clearly. Black was staring at him angrily, and Cackle’s gaze was mad with panic. The duke’s eyes shifted between the birds, not knowing which to believe. If it truly was Nina, she needed him. Now. And perhaps Black was merely jealous . . .
Eneas dipped down and scooped up Cackle, looking at the bird intently. ‘Can you take me to Nina?’ he asked the raven pointedly. ‘Take me to your mistress?’
‘Yes-yes,’ cawed the bird. ‘Nina. Yes-yes.’
‘All right then. Take me.’
The duke rose and went to the door, practically kicking it open. He bellowed down the empty corridor for his guards. Enli is coming, he screamed at them. Awaken the army of the air! Warn the guardians and ready my horse to ride! My brother is coming. My daughter is here!
Just outside the shadow of the tower, near the roadside amongst the overgrown trees, Duke Enli sat spying the path and listening for the approach of his quarry. Faren and Yory, two of his crossbowmen, lay on the knoll beside him, their weapons trained on the road. On the other side of the road were L’rou and Devon, also invisible, while Jace and Sen were just behind them. His brother wouldn’t come alone, Enli knew, but he wouldn’t come with a whole brigade, either. His mass of men would remain at the tower, to guard against a coming attack. And Enli would have the element of surprise. It was dark on the road and that gave them good cover. Enli could barely see Faren and Yory, and they were merely feet away. The others had blended in perfectly. The duke was cold but exhilarated, and the thought of his coming revenge warmed his soul. Soon, very soon, he would end the charade he’d been living since Angel’s death. Nina would never hear the lies of her uncle, her so-called father. The thought of Eneas’ claims tightened Enli’s jaw.
Angel was no whore, but Eneas had made her sound like one, soiling her memory. He had vowed to kill his brother for the crime. Tonight, finally, he would make good on that pledge, and in the process help to restore Biagio and the Black Renaissance.
‘Remember,’ Enli whispered to Faren. Tf there are too many of them, just let them pass. They’ll eventually split up and start looking for Nina. When they do, we’ll kill Eneas.’
‘And how many is too many?’ asked Faren anxiously. He was a brave soldier, but his master’s plan had unnerved him.
‘Ten, twelve maybe,’ said the duke. ‘No more than a dozen. Don’t worry. It won’t be that many. I know Eneas. I know how foolishly trusting he can be.’
His brother would never be able to resist the note, not if he believed it had truly come from Nina. And believe it he would, for in their youth Enli had always been the clumsy one with animals. Enli was sure his brother thought him incapable of controlling Cackle. Overconfidence. It was just one more of Eneas’ flaws.
The mercenaries purchased by Biagio had taken up position just outside the north fork, barely within Enli’s border. When the order came, they would sweep in and start what promised to be a protracted battle for Gray Tower. It would have been an unthinkable folly were it not for Biagio’s plan. The army of the air could have protected the tower indefinitely. Coupled with the might of Eneas’ guardians, the ravens made the castle impregnable. An entire legion of Vorto’s best soldiers might have had trouble sacking Gray Tower.
But not after tonight.
‘Don’t let the bird get away,’ Enli reminded Faren and Yory. ‘Kill it. Or capture it. But don’t let it escape.’
‘What if it’s not with him?’ Faren asked.
‘It will be. He goes nowhere without it. Let the bird be your first target if you like. Just make sure to kill it. Understand?’
Faren grunted angrily. ‘It’s going to be hard in this darkness, my lord. We’ll do our best.’
‘Do better than that,’ Enli hissed.
Yory swallowed hard and nodded, returning his attention to the empty road. Enli took up his own crossbow, stretched out on his stomach, and propped the weapon up on his elbows, closing one eye for accuracy. This chance would never come again. His heart boomed in his temples, and his breath was shallow and edgy. Unlike the others, he was only a fair shot with a crossbow, so he quickly decided to go for a bigger target than the raven. He would plant the bolt in the first soldier to show his face. At this range the weapons would easily penetrate the chain mail. Enli licked his wind-dried lips.
Goodnight, dear brother. Say hello to Father for me.
A sound in the distance startled him. They all cocked their heads to listen. Faren put a finger to his lips to caution quiet. A horse. No. More than one. Coming closer. The duke lowered himself back into the dirt, disappearing among the tree limbs. Slowly, purposefully, he lifted his crossbow and snapped closed an eye, focusing on the black and narrow path.
Duke Eneas wasn’t in the mood to quibble. He was on a mission and in a hurry, and the calls to slow his horse fell on deaf ears. He had not bothered to draw his sword or wear his raven-helm, for he wanted Nina to recognize him and not be afraid. His men, however, were far more cautious. Each of the eight wore a helmet and mail, and each had their swords at the ready, a single torch held by a young squire brightening their way. The ravens had been awakened and were patrolling the grounds, ready for any attack from sea or land, and the guardians of the castle were on alert, armed and prepared should Enli’s forces charge.
Duke Eneas rode at the head of his column, frantic to find his daughter before Enli could recapture her. The road before him was black and featureless, and the wind pulled his red hair out behind him like a comet’s tail. Black waited dutifully on his shoulder, cawing curses at the other raven leading the way. Cackle was hopping swiftly down the road, half walking, half flying as he led the soldiers.
‘Keep your eyes open,’ the duke called over his shoulder. ‘I don’t know where she is, or if Enli’s men have gotten her. Be sharp, lads.’
They were all sharp. They were Gray Tower’s best, and Eneas trusted them to protect him and find his daughter. And when they did, when they were together again as they should have been for eighteen years, he would take Nina back to the tower and launch his army of the air against his brother and have an end to the decades of madness. Nina would be his at last. Just as Angel would have wanted.
In the road up ahead, Cackle chittered at them to hurry. Eneas watched the bird and watched the knolls and trees around him, frightened of an ambush but frightened more of not finding his daughter. He didn’t know how long ago the note had been sent. Had Cackle found him quickly, or had all this happened hours ago? Was Nina already back in Enli’s clutches? The thought made the duke’s inside pitch. To lose her now after being so close was unthinkable.
‘Hurry,’ he called to his men, his voice echoing over the wind. ‘We’ve got to find her!’
Cackle cawed some more. Black’s talons dug into Eneas’ chain mail. The duke’s horse snorted out a plume of steam, and the narrow roadway closed in on them. The trees overhead bent in the breeze. Eneas heard the horses�
� hooves and the insistent breathing of his men behind him. And then a peculiar sound reached the duke, whistling past his ears. Then another and another. Cackle flew up into the air. Eneas reined in his horse and watched the raven flee. He heard a scream behind him, then felt a burning in his shoulder. Black squawked and struggled skyward. Eneas turned just in time to see his beloved bird impaled.
‘What the hell . . .?’
The duke’s shoulder burst with pain. There was an arrow in it, almost clean through. He grabbed at his shoulder in agony, nearly falling from his horse. The world around him erupted in chaos. His men were screaming. He turned to see one topple to the ground as a bolt pierced his helmet. The swordsmen were rushing toward the duke to protect him. Eneas watched them struggle toward him through the rain of arrows. The boy with the torch fell as a missile punctured his neck. He gurgled out a cry and fell to his knees, wheezing blood as he gasped for air. Near him on the ground was Black, a huddle mass of mangled feathers, his breast turned inside-out. Eneas whirled in his saddle and drew his sword, cursing at the darkness.
‘Enli!’ he screamed. ‘You murderer! Face me!’
His answer was another arrow, this one slamming into his ribs. The duke cursed and doubled over. He swayed in his saddle, trying to stay aloft, but another bolt hammered into his horse’s forehead, felling the beast. Eneas dropped his sword as he toppled, the breath shooting out of him with the force of the fall. His swordsmen were in a frenzy. They scanned the blackness for their enemies even as the marksmen in the trees peppered them with arrows. Duke Eneas clutched at the earth, pulling himself to the side of the road and shouting at his men to cover themselves. He had almost made it to the shoulder when he saw the trees come alive. A band of wraiths brandishing rapiers swarmed over his unsuspecting guards, cutting them down. Eneas struggled to his feet. Unarmed, he staggered toward his men with both fists barreled.
‘Enli!’ he roared. ‘Here I am! Come to me!’
A meaty arm wrapped itself around Eneas’ throat and a dagger pricked his neck.
‘Right here, brother dear.’
Eneas froze. The dagger beneath his chin drew a bead of blood.
‘Enli,’ he rasped. ‘You bastard . . .’
The melee went on. His men went down; one, then another and one more. Enli’s assassins cut through the night. Eneas choked on emotion and his own blood, which was now filling his throat from a punctured lung.
‘Where is she?’ the duke demanded, barely able to breathe. ‘What have you done with Nina?’
‘Nina?’ said the voice in his ear. The arm around him fell away, letting Eneas drop to his knees. Eneas looked up, gasping and clutching his chest. In the light of the dying torch he glimpsed his twin, staring disdainfully down on him. From out of the sky a raven swooped, settling on Enli’s shoulder.
‘You treacherous little monster,’ Eneas seethed, addressing both the bird and its master. Behind him his men groaned and died. He heard the hacking of heavy swords dispatching the living and the pleas of the young light-bearer, begging to be spared. And then he heard nothing at all. Eneas glared at his brother as the assassins gathered to flank him. Enli’s face was wild and mad, not at all like Eneas remembered it. His dark eyes smoldered as he looked down, happily victorious, and the bird on his shoulder smiled a peculiar, avian grin. Eneas knew he had only moments left. He could barely keep himself up, and every breath he drew sent new pain plunging through him.
‘My daughter,’ he gasped. ‘Where is she?’
‘My daughter is safe at home, dear brother,’ said Enli. ‘Where she belongs.’
Eneas gargled out a laugh. ‘She knows the truth though, doesn’t she? She knows?’
‘She knows none of your lies! She knows that I’m her father.’ Enli’s eyes narrowed. ‘And now she will never hear your lies, Eneas, because now you will die.’
‘Then kill me,’ said Eneas. He raised his head and spread out his hands for Enli to strike him down. ‘Go on and murder me. Have that on your conscience too. Kill me like you killed Angel!’
Enli struck his brother hard across the face. ‘Liar!’ he roared. ‘I loved her. I love her still. And you took her from me.’
Eneas laughed. Angel had never loved Enli. She had seen him for the madman he was, and had tried to flee from him. And Eneas had killed her for it.
‘Live your lie, brother,’ said Eneas softly. ‘Kill me. Send me to my Angel. We’ll be together if you do.’
His brother shook with rage. The dagger in his fist quavered.
‘Damn you!’ Enli cried. ‘Damn you for making me do this!’
‘I die, brother,’ Eneas taunted. ‘Hurry now. Take your vengeance before I go.’
‘You stole her from me!’
‘Kill me, you wretched coward.’
Enli screamed, high and horrible. Eneas watched his brother’s breakdown, and all the hate in him evaporated. He kept his arms outstretched even as the dagger plummeted down.
Duke Enli stood over his brother’s dead body for a small eternity. The night had fallen quiet again and the light from the torch had been smothered by the dirt. It was very cold and the duke shivered, warmed only by the tears streaking his face. He was aware of his men staring at him, of Faren’s incredulous gaze and Devon’s slack jaw, yet he couldn’t bring himself to stir, not even to clean the dagger of Eneas’ blood. He was a murderer now. He felt it as surely as he felt the wind. Blindly, he stared at his brother crumpled at his feet. He poked at Eneas with the toe of his boot and was oddly disappointed when his brother didn’t respond.
‘Duke Enli?’ probed Faren. ‘My lord, we have to hurry.’
‘Yes,’ whispered Enli absently. ‘Yes, hurry.’
‘The bird’s dead, my lord. Your plan . . .’
‘Yes,’ said Enli again. ‘My plan . . .’
The raven Cackle was still on his shoulder. Enli took an unsteady breath and gestured toward his dead brother.
‘Undress him,’ he ordered. ‘Quickly.’
The duke started undoing his own clothing, slowly working the buttons of his shirt. His men fell upon Eneas’ body, unceremoniously pulling away his garments. Yory, who had been silent through the entire fight, stalked over to the dead raven in the roadway and scooped the thing up, bringing it over to Enli. The silver chain still clung around its broken neck. Enli sighed with relief.
‘Take the chain off,’ he directed. ‘Don’t break it.’
Very carefully Yory undid the chain from around the dead bird’s neck, nearly pulling off the raven’s head as he stretched the neck for slack. When he had freed the tiny chain he handed it gingerly to his master. Enli, now shirtless, took the necklace to Cackle.
‘Easy now,’ the duke ordered as he slipped the ornament over the raven’s head. ‘Just take it easy. I’m not going to hurt you.’
Remarkably, Cackle twisted his head to accommodate the chain, and it slid quickly over his glossy feathers. Enli checked the chain to be sure it wouldn’t slip off in flight. Satisfied, he lifted Cackle in his hand and smiled at the bird.
‘You’re a wonderful little beast,’ he said softly. ‘Go now, my friend. Bring back your brothers and sisters.’
The duke hoisted his hand into the air and Cackle took flight, disappearing once more into the darkness. Enli watched him soar.
‘My lord!’ Faren scolded. ‘Dress now! You’ll catch your death.’
It was unspeakably cold, but Enli hadn’t really noticed it until Faren reminded him. His soldiers handed him Eneas’ shirt and mail, and Enli dressed in a fevered hurry, all the while looking at his dead, naked brother in the roadway, his body pricked with arrows and sliced open with a dagger wound. Eneas’ clothes were warm and bloody. Enli could smell his brother’s scent on them. One by one he fitted himself with the dead man’s accoutrements, finishing off by buckling the sword belt around his waist. When he was done, he gestured disgustedly at Eneas’ body.
‘Take it away. And be quick. The ravens mustn’t see him.’
; Yory and Jace did as their duke directed, dragging Eneas unceremoniously into the woods. They would take him far away, far enough so that the ravens wouldn’t smell his familiar odor or catch a glimpse of their former master. If they did, Enli knew, they might turn on him. These were intelligent monsters, hardly ravens at all anymore. They were creations. Like Lorla born in the war labs, they had become more than nature ever intended. The trick now was to control them. Faren and the others took up positions around Enli, nervously watching the sky. None of them knew if this elaborate scheme would work, or how long it would take if it did. Back in Gray Tower, Eneas’ men were no doubt awaiting the return of their master. If Eneas didn’t return soon, they would come looking for him, and in greater numbers. Enli shuddered a little. He didn’t want to die here on the north fork.
Together they waited, then waited some more, until long minutes slipped by and Yory and Jace returned from the forest, slick with Eneas’ blood. They looked puzzled by the absence of the birds but said nothing, merely joining their comrades in looking eastward. A cloud crossed the moon, blanketing them in darkness. Enli’s heart sank. They might not come, he realized. But at least he had killed Eneas.
‘Holy Mother . . .’ drawled Faren. The soldier pointed at the moon. ‘Look at that!’
Enli looked skyward. Across the distance came a vaporous, black hand, a massive swarm of ravens, their beaks and feathers glistening in the moonlight. Enli’s men fell back in terror, crossing themselves and muttering prayers to stay the evil horde. But Enli stood his ground, a smile splitting his face. He opened up his arms as if to embrace the heavens, and summoned the army of the air to him.
Thirteen
Against the Fearless
The Prince of Liss sailed full-winded against the white caps, her masts groaning as she tacked north by north-west along the coast of Nar. On the orders of her commander, she had left the rest of her escort behind, and was now just two days south of Nar City. Her escort ships, Vindicator, Battle Axe, and the others, waited for her off the coast of Casarhoon, one of the Empire’s more southerly regions, to pirate what supplies they could from the ill-armed ships that sailed there. The Prince of Liss had gone north alone.