She laughed. “I did not know that we would be locked away with so many witnesses, Your Grace. I do want to be able to live in this city and enjoy my wealth once you are gone.”
“I see. So, you figured you would destroy our ability to remain in this room and force me to walk into the hangman’s noose on my own two feet. That way, your hands remain clean.”
“Precisely.”
CHAPTER 13
Changed
The bitter cold woke Kenley from her exhausted sleep. Her breathing created misty clouds of vapor to form in front of her mouth, so she snuggled closer against the warm body of Baya. Arriving at Nysa in the middle of the night, they were forced to sleep outside in the Grayan Forest because of the darkness.
She would have been really scared of all the noises in the woods if not for Baya.
Good morning, she breathed into her living fur blanket.
Good morning, Princess.
She sat up. Baya! That was so much fun last night! Riding you is much more fun than riding a horse.
Hrmmf, the Draca snorted. Do not get used to it, little one. The offer was made due to an urgent situation. You will not be putting that saddle on me to ride for pleasure.
Kenley giggled. I won’t. It was fun, though. She got to her feet and brushed the dirt from her tunic. Come on. First thing I am going to do when we get to the palace is sneak into the kitchens and get some honeycakes!
For me, too?
Of course.
Kenley crept along the forest edge but kept a close eye on the granite wall that surrounded the city fifty paces away. There were no soldiers in sight, and she thought that was odd. Captain Bo Franck would be very upset if he knew that the guards were not on watch.
Moving silently ahead, it did not take them long to reach the cliff that rimed the Arounda Ocean and served as the western border of the city. Waves crashed loudly against the rocks on the other side and the smell of salt hung heavy in the air.
Kenley shook her hands to warm her frozen fingers. She would be glad when she finally reached the palace and not just for the heat. She missed her Maman. She tried not to think about her too much or she would cry, but if her Maman was in trouble, Kenley wanted to help her. She did not worry about her Daddy that much. He was so strong and powerful that nobody could harm him. And, Uncle Airron was helping him.
There was no one to help her Maman.
She wiped a tear that fell from her eye. It would be up to her and Baya, and she would be brave like her Maman and not let her down. Taking a deep breath, she sniffled one last time and then looked over her shoulder at her best friend. Ready?
Baya nodded once and together they sprinted the distance between the forest and the curtain wall. Where the wall butted up against the cliff was a small gap she had discovered a few months back.
I don’t think you will fit anymore, Baya!
Baya nudged her aside to inspect the opening. It will be tight, but I think I can.
Follow me closely. We must not be discovered before it is time.
When do we go to battle, little one?
When we hear the fireworks.
The light of burning supply wagons lit the early morning and the smoke created a gray haze that hung low in the air. Rogan, with
Janin still on his shoulders and under the legionnaire-issue cloak of
House Etin, carefully picked his way through the bedlam that was the Iserlohn Army. Disorder reigned throughout the encampment.
Animals ran loose, men groaned, and officers yelled at their disoriented troops to line up in formation. The Halfies had performed their jobs well, and the legionnaires still had no idea who or what had caused the repeated attacks during the night.
And, now, the stain of another army on the horizon bearing down on the beleaguered camp.
So far, the disguise he and Janin wore was working, but they had been traveling mostly among the civilians. Now, they were making their way to the front lines to identify the Houses of the advancing army.
“Stop, there!” The angry shout directed their way caused Rogan to turn. Through a gap in the cloak, he saw an officer of House Etin rushing toward them.
He hoped Janin had her cowl pulled closely around her head as it would not be unusual to be cloaked in the stinging cold of the morning.
“What are you doing?” the man screamed. “Out for a causal morning stroll, legionnaire?”
Janin must have shaken her head.
“Can’t you see what is happening? Get into formation or so help me I will kill you!” The officer was inches from Janin’s face. “Do you hear me?”
Rogan’s fingers twitched toward the short sword on his hip, not sure if his volatile wife could hold it together. If she could not, and the officer tried to harm her, he would find himself with one less hand.
But, she simply nodded, and pressed her left heel into his ribs to guide his movements to the left. Needing no further prodding, he took off at a run, slowing only when he was sure that the officer had been left far behind. Melting back into the throng of soldiers once again, he realized with tremendous satisfaction that he had done all of this without a single grunt.
Close to the front line now, he searched out the banners flying at the head of the approaching Legion. His eyes slid over the sigils of House Everard and House Gregaros. He could not imagine that Gage Gregaros would ever turn on the Everard family, but he could not rest on that assumption. Especially, since he was already surrounded by legionnaires in the scarlet and black of House Everard.
During his traipse through the army over the course of the night, he learned that many of the Everard soldiers and even several from House Etin were uneasy about this conflict and were on the verge of abandoning their duty and running. Blindly following the orders of superiors during war with an enemy was one thing, they said, but to march against the King they had sworn to protect? It was not sitting well with many of them. In fact, Rogan had heard talk that some of the legionnaires had already defected back to Iserport in the middle of the night.
The lines were becoming more ordered as Rogan progressed toward the vanguard. He was among the Calvary now, their warhorses stamping and snorting malcontent at their stationary stance. A dangerous place to be, but he had to know the intentions of Gregaros.
A few Cavalrymen glanced down at them in uncertainty, but most had their eyes directed upward at the threat looming closer.
Janin gave him an urging kick, so he strode faster to the very front of the line. Warily, he stepped out of the column to provide him and Janin a view down the long row of horses. Commander Hugo Bassus sat tall astride a barrel-chested Haventi, a hauberk covering his red and black tunic. He had dark imposing eyes similar to King Maximus, but his shoulder length hair had turned mostly gray. His weathered features were expressionless as he studied the army before him.
Across the plains, Gage Gregaros, the wiry, gray haired Lord who was once a Scarlet Saber, rode at the head of his procession, standing upright in the stirrups with a range finder held to his eye. All was quiet as the army advanced and even when Gage halted his men several hundred paces from Bassus’ line. Running his horse along the column, Gage chose a small parley group of six men who then peeled away from the line and joined the Lord in his approach toward the waiting army.
To Rogan’s surprise, and probably Gage’s surprise as well, Hugo Bassus made no move to receive the parley.
That was Rogan’s cue to begin moving out of the way. Bassus’ actions were a clear indication that he had no intention of accepting any form of truce that may be offered and meant to fight through Gregaros. At least, Rogan thought with relief, it did confirm that he and Gage were still fighting on the same side.
Rogan quickly threaded through the horses, responding to the touches of Janin’s heels and his own sight through the cloak to navigate the sea of muscular, restless animals.
Gage pulled his party up short. “In the name of King Maximus, you are charged with treason to the Crown, Hugo Bassus! Stand d
own or you will be cut down!”
“To the Netherworld with King Maximus!” laughed Bassus. “The reign of Everard is over! Iserlohn needs a new leader and preferably one who cannot have us burnt to a crisp at a whim.”
It was Gage’s turn to laugh derisively. “And, you think Etin is the man? Come now, Hugo. I have known you for too many years to believe that.”
“He is the man for now,” Bassus admitted. “Who knows what opportunities may open up in a year or two.”
“I don’t want to kill you, Hugo. Stand down.”
“Join with us then, Gage! You will be entitled to keep your lands and title, I can assure you of that. Bend your knee to House Etin!”
“Etin does not have a legitimate claim to the throne!”
“Etin means to be King, Gage, and if he must inherit a broken crown in doing so, so be it.”
“That is precisely why I cannot support him! He has no idea what it takes to be King! The people will never love him.”
“You fool! It is obedience he commands, not love!”
The naked fury on Gage’s face was unmistakable. “For the sake of our friendship, I ask one more time for your sword!”
“You may ask, but you will not receive!”
“Then, I will take your head instead!” Gage and his legionnaires wheeled their mounts around and headed back toward their line to regroup.
Bassus, abandoning all of the rules of parley, thrust his sword in the air and kicked his Haventi forward before Gregaros was halfway back to his men. “Charge!”
Beck yanked harshly at the chains holding his arms and legs pinned to the cavern wall with a snarl. The manacles did not budge, and all he managed to do was cause the metal to cut deeper into his skin. Avalon already told him that his bonds were infused with magic, but he kept trying anyway, hoping brute strength would somehow prevail.
Early on, he realized that his earthshifting would be of little use to him with the lack of loose stone or earth within range. He could probably try to bring the mountain down on top of all of their heads—he had brought down a mountain once before—but that would only serve to kill him in the process. There may come a time when it became necessary, but it had not yet arrived.
His face was still bruised and swollen from the beating Avalon had given him on the way to Farout Falls, but he was healing. One thought held him together. Airron was coming, and he was pinning all of his hopes on his friend.
This remote location that Avalon called Farout Falls was devoid of all people. They traveled unseen for leagues to this hideaway of hers, hewn from the southern cliffs of Deepstone. He was so physically spent by the time they arrived that two Cymans had to carry him up rough stairs that ascended the cliff face seventy or more spans to the cave entrance above.
Once inside, he was surprised to find the interior comfortable and inviting. Avalon managed to fashion a home out of the massive cavern by using the natural pillared formations to create separate rooms. Colorful tapestries and carpets adorned the walls and floors, and heavy, ornate furniture of mahogany covered in richly decorated brocades and silks lent a distinctly feminine touch to the starkness of the stone. Dancing yellow flames in copper braziers created soft light and provided a source of heat to take the chill from the air.
A low, whistling sound roused him from his thoughts and he looked up as the tip of a black leather whip narrowly missed his face and bit into his shoulder with a loud snap. Beck cried out in shock and excruciating pain.
“The Mistress ‘as ordered five lashes of the whip for your deception,” the Cyman guard said sorrowfully. “Just ‘old still and it will be over soon.”
If possible, the second strike to his chest hurt worse than the first because he now knew what to expect. Tears formed in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.
Crack.
Lash three hit his stomach followed by a fourth to his upper thigh. He bellowed out in agony.
Crack.
The last crossed the second strike to form a red laced x on his chest.
Blood seeped from the wounds and trickled down his body, and he felt faint from the burning throb and the sudden brutality of the act. Head hanging down, he smelled her musky scent drift to him before she spoke.
“I predict that this will not be the last time you will force me to have you whipped, Prince Beck.” Her voice sounded unusually raspy and the speech garbled.
He did not respond but did look down at her with a murderous glare only to find her face hidden within the folds of her cowl.
“I know this because I can still see it,” she observed. “It is still there.”
He did not wish to communicate with her, but needed to have answers. Needed to know why she had kidnapped him and what she was after. “What? What can you see, witch?”
“Hope. You still have hope that you are going to make it out of here alive. Am I correct?”
Despair washed through his body. The conviction in her voice that the opposite was true seemed to confirm an inescapable conclusion. He was going to die here.
“You hope that your Elven friend will find you. You hope he will charge in here at the last moment and free you from your bonds. And, you hope to see your family again.” She waved her hand in the air toward him. “It is written all over your face, earthshifter.”
“I do hope those things,” he admitted. “More than anything.”
“Anything? Well, we shall see if that holds true. Let me start first with one of the reasons I have asked you to be my guest here at Farout Falls. The Protetor, my dear progeny of Galen Starr. Where can I find this most valuable of all treasures?”
“That is what this is about? The Protetor?” The book suddenly felt heavy in its location in his trouser pocket, but he knew he had to stall. He had to buy time for Airron to track him. “You are welcome to it. I never wanted to accept the book in the first place, but Mage Starr insisted. You will have to travel to Bardot to retrieve it. It is located in my office at the Academy.”
She began to pace back and forth below him, a dark hooded shadow gliding across the floor. “Where in your office?”
“On my shelf where I keep all my books. It is small and black and free of markings.”
“You keep such a valuable item on a bookshelf? Where all have access to it?” she asked in disbelief.
“I did not consider the book valuable,” he lied.
She stopped in front of him. “Very well. I will travel to Bardot to retrieve the book and you better not be lying. However, I think I can also spare a few days before I leave to dispose of the Elf.”
Beck swallowed his fear. “He has probably gone back to
Haventhal by now.”
“Another deception, Prince Beck!”
“Please…”
“The book can wait for now,” she interrupted. “I fear the primary reason I wished to read the book is no longer necessary. My body is too far gone.”
Even though she was standing directly in front of him, he still could not see her face. What did she mean by that?
“Whenever you feel hope creep back into your heart, earthshifter, remember this.” She lifted her hands and removed her cloak and let it fall to the ground.
He shrank back in horror. The body that stood before him was hideous. Bent and skeletal with curved hands and toes that ended in claws. The skin of her face so translucent that it reminded him nothing so much as an animated corpse. Dark circles caused her eyes to look like sunken marbles, and deep cracks sectioned her face like a broken mirror.
He was unable to tear his eyes away as the creature that was once Avalon Ravener unfurled the wings behind her back, the membranes pulsating with what looked like black blood.
He could not help himself.
He screamed.
CHAPTER 14
Clash of Swords
After Hugo Bassus gave the order to charge, Rogan barely managed to dive out of the way of the last column of horses before the stampede. The cloak fell off Janin’s shoulders when she ro
lled across the ground, but it was just as well. The disguise would only be a hindrance at this point. His wife immediately fell into a crouch and unsheathed her sword. With the ease of an old dance, she pressed herself against his back at once, and they began to fight their way through the mass of foot soldiers running ahead to close with House Gregaros. With battle lust raging through them, few of the soldiers seemed to notice that they were Dwarves and fewer yet that they were fighting against them. The wound on his thigh where one of the Halfies stabbed him back in Haventhal began to throb in earnest, but he pushed through it, inching closer and closer to the allied forces. Janin, in her element again, screamed her fury at any who ventured too close.
The brutal collision of the two armies and the ensuing clash of men, animals and weapons was deafening. Soldiers younger than he slipped in grass now sodden with blood in their haste to rush to the fight. The full weight of one wounded and staggering soldier hit him from behind and bore him to the ground in a tangle of limbs. He looked up into the man’s eyes, but they were already glazed over in death.
Rogan pushed the dead man off him and jumped back to his feet just as another legionnaire rose up and swung a large broadsword at him. He knocked it aside and Janin made a running leap to bury her blade in the man’s neck.
Rogan hated this.
Men—boys really—sacrificing their lives in combat with their fellow countrymen. But, for what reason? Rogan witnessed firsthand how distressed King Maximus had been when he learned that the living conditions in Iserport had not improved. Given the opportunity, the Iserlohn monarch would have addressed the issue, Rogan was sure of that. But, the nobles had their own agenda for starting this war and it was not necessarily that of the citizens or in their best interests.
Janin cried out when a soldier slammed his elbow into her face and she fell to the ground. The legionnaire immediately jumped on top of her and lifted his fist to strike her again.
Rogan had to fight back the desire to kill, to drag his sword across the soldier’s neck and watch while the blood spilled from the man’s throat. It would take very little effort. Instead, his foot connected with the legionnaire’s cheekbone, and he heard the distinctive crunch of bone.
Island Shifters: Book 02 - An Oath of the Mage Page 14