“I don’t mean to complain,” Alric said, “but you devised a clever way of getting into Mudavé, and now you have no suggestions for finding a way out.”
“There wasn’t much planning going on at all was there?” Garland shot back. “Julian gave Coffman and Lorcan his wristband. I’ll contact them and tell them to fly the sarians in after us.”
“They can’t very well fly down here,” Kaden said wearily. “They’d be filled with arrows before they could land.”
“We could go there.” Silas pointed to the top of the fortress at the plateau. “There is a path to the top and it’s high enough to avoid being shot down.”
The others seemed to consider Silas’ suggestion and in a moment Garland placed a finger on the bright green stone. Lorcan’s voice could be heard from the device.
“I don’t know Coffman, I’ve never messed with one of these things before.”
“Lorcan,” Garland called. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” he said. “How are things your way?”
“Better than expected so far. How’s Skarret?”
“He’s lost a lot of blood.”
Garland winced. “Listen. I need you and Coffman to fly in here and pick us up. We’ve got Kaden, but there’s no other way out.”
There was nothing but silence on the other end.
“Lorcan did you hear me?”
“I don’t know if we can do it,” Lorcan said. Silas thought his voice sounded a bit shakier than it had seconds before.
“What do you mean you don’t think you can do it?” Garland demanded.
Inga walked over to Garland and grabbed his wrist, pulling it up to her mouth. “Lorcan! We’re stranded here surrounded by thousands of Stühocs and we need you to come pick us up. We’ll be on the plateau at the top of the fortress. If you don’t get here then we’ll die, do you understand?”
Silence.
Everyone waited for an answer, looking at each other awkwardly.
The next voice was not Lorcan’s, but this time it was Coffman’s. “We’ll be there in a few,” he confirmed.
“We’ll see you at the top,” Garland said.
“Nice work,” said Silas once Inga moved away from Garland.
“Sometimes you just have to talk some sense into his head,” she said.
“Let’s move,” Kaden commanded. “We don’t have much time before they realize you aren’t Nestorians.”
They heeded Kaden’s advice and moved through the outdoor corridor, weapons drawn. Silas had nothing but the staff in his hands, truly hoping that Julian was correct about the staff’s powers, and that Garland had been truthful about who birthed him. Silas couldn’t know either until the time and situation warranted such a revelation.
The steep path began on this side of the fortress inside the slave field and wound around the entire mountain. It would not be easy to keep out of sight but they hoped that the eyes of the Stühocs would not be looking their way.
*****
Julian had a feeling that the Stühoc didn’t lie to him. There was no time to be chasing lies. He moved to the fourth room in the hallway. The wooden door had been left slightly open and he could hear a voice coming from the other side. It was Holden speaking animatedly to someone through his wristband.
“Yes, they have already come.”
“But that’s impossible.” It was the voice of Spencer. “I was just in contact with them this morning. They are not visiting for another week. Perhaps you should check who is under those Nestorian masks, Holden.”
Holden said nothing.
“You’ve been fooled,” Spencer said. “You need to deal with the imposters. They cannot get both medallions.”
“I carry the red medallion with me,” Holden said. “It is safe.”
“Let me know what you find out.”
Holden’s glowing wristband faded and he stood rigid when he realized he wasn’t in the room alone.
Without turning, he sighed and then spoke. “I suppose you’re here to kill me aren’t you, Julian?”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Who else would be in Mudavé, dressed as a Nestorian, trying to get every last medallion?”
“Your day is done, Holden. You aren’t getting away with anything. You’ve allied yourself to the Stühocs and it’s going to cost you your life.”
Holden pursed his lips and smiled. “It already has,” he said. He turned only to be met with a bloodied sword pointing at his chest, mere feet from him.
“You’re foolish if you think killing me will stop what is already happening. There are many more pieces to this puzzle than just me, I assure you.”
“So you aren’t working alone?”
“What do you think? I’ve got the entire council under my thumb, save three,” he said proudly.
This couldn’t be. How could so many on the council be in favor of a Stühoc uprising?
“Which three?” Julian said.
“Kaden and you obviously,” he said. “And there is one in particular that I don’t think would turn as long as you were alive.”
Nalani. She had always been true to the cause. Julian knew she would never turn. But knowing that the others were working with Holden would make this mission more difficult. He knew that Nalani would never betray the Dunarians. But how could all the others do so?
“I know what you’re thinking, Julian and you should stop. How many original members of the council are still members?”
Kaden and you, Julian thought.
“And how many members of the Dunarian council did I recruit myself?”
The rest of them. Julian cursed.
“Nalani and I weren’t original members and you never came to us for your little plot!”
“You both were high recommendations from our military,” Holden explained. “Politically it would have been foolish not to put you on the council. We were coming to you eventually, but things stirred into motion so quickly, we decided to use you rather than turn you. And you have done rather well, I might add. You’ve brought us two medallions, which I still have yet to see, but I know they are at Jekyll Rock.”
You will never see them.
“And you carry the red medallion of the Stühocs with you,” Julian said. “If you were smart you would have hidden it.”
“I am smart, Julian. You just don’t realize how smart I really am.”
“We’ll see,” Julian said.
“How about this?” Holden continued. “You managed to kill your brother which is one less thing that we have to worry about. We can now put in one of our own people to take the kingship and merge all of humanity’s causes together. Together we will bring peace to Marenon where all will live tranquilly.”
“You preach peace but you ally with the Stühocs against your own kind,” Julian said through his teeth. “You are nothing but a snake.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think, Julian. You’re out. The council has voted.”
Julian wasn’t sure what to believe now. What if Holden was lying about the council? What if he was alone in this and he was just trying to get Julian to turn against everyone?
“You’re lying,” Julian said. “You’re saying they’re with you just to get to me. It’s all false isn’t it? You’re working alone in this, Holden, and now you’re scared with no place to go.”
“If only you were right,” Holden said. He pulled a chain from under his shirt revealing a large golden key. “I’ve got the proof right here.”
Julian’s brow furrowed at the sight of the key.
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t think I cheat without protecting myself? In case the other council members decide to betray me, I’ve kept a record proving who has been on my side and who hasn’t. This key opens the door to that record.”
“I don’t believe you,” Julian said.
“As I said before, Julian. It doesn’t matter what you think. What is true is true. What is false is false. What you have
to say about it changes nothing. Now if you’ll step out of my way, I have to deal with your friends.”
Holden began to move past Julian, but he stood firm, sword pointing to the traitor’s face.
“You don’t want to fight me, Julian,” Holden warned.
“You’re right. I want to kill you.”
Before Julian could even register what had happened, Holden’s sword was out deflecting his. Without hesitation Holden slashed again, while Julian barely had time to parry. He had been taken by surprise and didn’t have the proper footing for a duel. Again, Holden jabbed and slashed. Julian was scarcely surviving each blow as each swing barely missed, until finally Holden cut high and Julian was able to duck and take a stab of his own that was blocked by Holden. Julian had met a formidable opponent, but he would not let Holden get away this time.
Chapter Thirty
The group rushed up one of the circular paths, winding around the mountain. Silas was thankful to have regained some of his strength since the crash with Skarret, but he still did not feel quite up to the task of reaching the top. He hoped that Coffman and Lorcan would be there soon to fly them out of this nightmare.
The pain in his chest stabbed at him repeatedly with every step he took, and the cut on his shoulder was throbbing. He was sure that he had broken at least two ribs in the crash, and his sword wound from days before was slightly split open again causing small trickles of blood to drip down his arm. Up they ran, the group moving faster and faster without rest. It was imperative that they make it to the top of the fortress in as little time as possible. If Lorcan and Coffman made it to the plateau before the rest of them, the sarians would be exposed and vulnerable. Silas couldn’t bear to think of what might happen if his group made it to the top and Lorcan and Coffman were shot down. They would be left without any chance of escape.
Silas fell behind the others as the pain in his chest continued to deal one crushing blow after another. Without warning, his feet gave out below him and he tumbled to the ground. The staff rolled to the side closest to the mountain wall, but Silas found himself rolling uncontrollably to the ledge. He could hear the cries of the others as they tried to reach him. His skin scraped against the rock as he reached out trying to grab anything to stop himself from falling. If he were to fall over the edge the drop of a thousand feet would surely destroy him. Seemingly out of nowhere, he felt a hand grab his arm as his legs dangled off the side path and over the cliff.
The moment seemed to go in slow motion and in that split second, thoughts of his former life and his brief life in Marenon burst through into consciousness. Hanging from the side of the fortress he could see out over all of Marenon and the sun broke through the clouds as if it was the first time it had been birthed into Mudavé. He looked below at the fields past the outer walls of the city and saw himself astride a white horse, leading thousands of troops into battle against the Stühocs, with Inga and others at his side. Thousands were following him willingly as if they would go into the depths of this demonic hell for him. In this glorious scene, in the middle of the brutal, vicious fight was a man, dressed in white robes staring into Silas’ eyes. Like a dove he opened his arms and flew from the battle to be within inches of Silas’ face. It was an old man. The light that followed him blurred his features, but his presence felt more familiar than anyone he had ever known before.
“Silas,” the man said.
He spoke as though the two had known each other for many years. All Silas could say was, “Why me?”
“Because you were chosen,” the man said. “Today is your first test as the Meshulan. Do not be afraid. You are here for a purpose.”
“What about the others?”
“The others will follow you if you keep on the right path. Stray but a little and all could be lost.”
“How will I know what is right?”
“You will always know what is right,” the man answered.
And almost as quickly as he had come, the man began to fade away.
“Don’t leave!” Silas shouted.
“Follow the right path.”
“I need you,” Silas said, a hot tear rolled down the side of his face.
“You will know the path to take.” Then he was gone.
As the man in white vanished, so did the battle below him like a fog that disappears without a trace. Silas slowly regained his wits, hearing shouts from above him as his companions pulled him upward. Alric had grabbed his wrist just before Silas went over the edge, saving him from a most gruesome end.
“Are you all right?” Alric asked.
The rest now surrounded Silas. “Did you see that?”
“Of course I saw it, I pulled you up, you git!”
“No,” Silas said. “The man. He was floating! He was right in front of my face.”
Alric gave the others a curious look and shook his head. “We gotta get out of here, Silas. I think the fumes are getting to you.” Alric pulled Silas up hoisting his arm around his shoulders. Inga handed Silas his staff, which he used to support himself with in the other arm.
“We’re almost to the top,” Kaden called out.
Indeed they were close to the top when all of a sudden they heard a loud horn sound in the distance. It sounded like a war horn. Then to the east they heard another one blare out, then another. Bells from below were clanging and the sounds of the horns were blaring louder and louder. They had been discovered.
“We haven’t got much time,” Garland yelled. “Come on!” The others ran up to the top with Silas hobbling along side Alric and Kaden bringing up the rear.
On the plateau of the fortress Silas saw that they were essentially on top of a circular platform with a large pillar in the center. The pillar had to be more than a hundred feet tall, casting a long shadow across the center.
“They’re not here!” Inga yelled.
Alric pulled Silas along and finally sat him against the pillar. Silas was relieved to finally have a chance to sit down. It felt as though his ribs were stabbing his vital organs, his breathing more labored. Alric held him at arm’s length.
“You’re not dying are you? I can’t put myself through all this just to see you die, you know.”
Sweat dripped from Silas’ brow as he shook his head. “I just need to rest,” he said.
The others peered over the edge to keep a watch on the path. Below them, with the sound of horns and thunder, hundreds, perhaps thousands of Stühocs charged up the side of the mountain in pursuit of the counterfeit Nestorians.
“All I can say is that Lorcan and Coffman better get here soon,” Garland said, “or we’ll not be long for this world either.”
*****
Julian cried out when Holden’s blade sliced through the meat of his shoulder splattering blood against the wall behind him. Julian had been temporarily distracted when the horns sounded and the bells began to ring. He knew they had been discovered.
“Do you hear that?” Holden said, with a hand to his ear. “That is the sound of your end. Soon you and your comrades will be killed and there will be nothing to distract me from completing my goal.”
Julian held his sword up and winced at the throbbing pain in his shoulder. The cut felt deep. He was finished with Holden. Listening to his words was poison to the ears. With a cry of rage, Julian used his uninjured arm to crash his sword against his opponent’s. Holden seemed to be taken by surprise at the sudden burst of energy that Julian displayed.
Julian attacked with one blow after another, leaving Holden barely able to keep his balance while he tried to deflect his opponent’s sword. Julian’s anger burned in his eyes like a madman and Holden began to lose strength as the sparring continued. Julian slashed over and over, again and again until finally the end of his blade caught the hilt of Holden’s sword and sent it flying to the other side of the room.
Holden fell backward onto his side, groping for the sword that was much too far out of his reach. He had been defeated. Julian’s eyes widened at his newfound position.<
br />
Holden swallowed hard. “Don’t be a fool, Julian. You know you need me alive.”
“I don’t need you,” Julian said, his words as cold as frost. “You are lower than scum, Holden. You would kill innocent people for the sake of power.”
“Are you going to kill me like you killed your brother?”
Julian had not been ready for the stinging words. The accusations coming from the venomous snake angered him deeply. He clenched his jaw, his veins protruding.
“What happened to my brother was his own fault.”
“Of course it was,” Holden said. “He deserved it.”
“I don’t need you alive,” Julian said. “You said so yourself as you stood there, so pious. All I need is the key around your neck and the medallion in your pocket.”
“You don’t know how to use the key.”
“I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”
Julian raised his sword.
Holden held out a hand and his chin began to tremble.
“I’ve seen the map, Holden. Marenon’s Map is in the castle, below Jekyll rock and I’ve seen it.” A grin formed at the corner of his mouth.
“Julian, please.”
Julian considered his words for a moment, realizing that Holden had dropped his pretentious demeanor and was now begging for his life. He truly was lower than scum and he now faced the prospect of dying that way. There was nothing left of the man but genuine fear.
With one quick motion, Julian thrust his sword forward and shoved it through Holden’s heart. There was no sound but for the man’s last feeble, wheezing attempt to breathe, then his eyes glazed and Ward Holden was no more.
Julian hurried to yank the key from Holden’s neck and pulled the red-jeweled medallion from his cloak. Why did Holden carry it with him? Surely Maroke would not have trusted him with such an object. Knowing Holden, he had probably stolen it and was planning something else entirely; perhaps even to turn against the Stühocs. There was no way to know now.
Julian raced out of the room and through the corridors, a strong hand held tightly against his bleeding shoulder. He had no fear of running into Stühocs, for most of them were responding to the raised alarm. Finally he made his way to where he had left the others overseeing the field of slaves. He instantly noticed the horde of Stühocs traveling up the mountainside with a determined viciousness. He now realized that his friend’s only move was to go up the mountain. He felt a small amount of guilt, knowing that he had abandoned them for the short time, but the decision had been worth it.
The Marenon Chronicles Collection Page 28