“I’m all right,” she said with a shrug. “Why?”
“You killed three people today.”
“So?”
“Some people find it hard to sleep after killing, especially the first time.”
Alexander remembered the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach the first time he’d killed a man. It seemed so long ago that he had loosed an arrow in the hallway of some nondescript Southport inn. He still remembered how it smelled, a hint of smoke mingled with sweat and fear. He remembered the mottled color of the walls. But mostly, he remembered the look in the man’s eyes in that moment when he realized he was dying.
“They were trying to kill you,” Anja said. “I’d have killed the rest of them if you hadn’t gotten to them first. And besides, I’m not a person, I’m a dragon.” With that she rolled over and closed her eyes.
***
The next morning, Alexander stood to the side of the door before he willed it open. It was raining softly outside, filling the air with the sound of countless droplets falling from the trees above. He stretched out with his all around sight, searching for any sign of the pirates—and he found them. Over a hundred men lying in wait. He looked down at the footprints leading into his Wizard’s Den.
“I take it they’ve found us,” Jack said when Alexander closed the door.
“We’re surrounded,” Alexander said, his brow furrowed in thought.
“Here,” Jack said, handing Alexander his cloak. “Slip through their lines and let us out down the road. They’ll never know what happened.”
“I like it,” Alexander said, donning the magical cloak.
“I’m coming with you,” Anja said.
“No, you’re not,” Alexander said. “You’re going to stay right here. I’ll let you out as soon as it’s safe.”
“But I can help.”
“No, you can’t,” Alexander said, tossing the hood up and opening the door just long enough to slip out into the world before closing it again. He froze in place, searching for any sign that the enemy had noticed him. They hadn’t. Most of the men seemed bored and irritable—all except for Tyr and his wizard. They were both fixated on the spot where Alexander stood.
He moved away slowly, carefully picking each step, sacrificing speed for stealth. By the time he’d passed through their perimeter and reached a safe distance, he had to remind himself to breathe. After another five minutes of walking, he stopped and opened the door to his Wizard’s Den.
Anja was waiting for him there, anger flashing in her eyes. “Don’t you ever do that again. I’m here to help you.”
Alexander stepped through the door, closing it behind him with a thought, causing Anja to back up a few steps.
“Listen well, child.” Alexander didn’t try to hide his anger from her. “I’ve told you to go home and you’ve refused. Fair enough, but understand this. I am at war. More than that, I am in command. You will obey me in battle or I will put you in this Wizard’s Den and leave you here until I can take you home to your mother where you belong. Do you understand me?”
Anja’s eyes went a little wide and she blinked a few times before looking down.
“I asked you a question, Anja. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” she said very quietly. “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”
“Look at me,” he said, gently lifting her chin. “I don’t want to be mad at you, but there is much more at stake here than just your life or mine, and I cannot allow your willfulness or my feelings for you to jeopardize the future. If we lose this war, then everyone everywhere will lose just about everything and I’m not going to let that happen.”
Anja nodded. “I’ll try to do better.”
“Good,” he said, turning to the men watching the exchange. “We’re a few minutes ahead of them but we still need to be quiet.” He opened the door to the Wizard’s Den and everyone filed out.
It wasn’t especially cold, but the rain fell steadily. By midday, they were miserable. By dark, they were exhausted and shivering. The warmth and safety of the Wizard’s Den was a welcome reprieve from the elements.
When Alexander opened the door the following morning, he was relieved to find that the pirates were nowhere to be seen.
He’d spent the better part of the previous day trying to formulate a plan, and in every course of action that he considered, the first step was to elude their pursuers. With that urgent task accomplished, he could start focusing on getting these people safely to Ruatha.
They set out moving farther inland through the rugged foothills of the coastal range. It wasn’t long before the sensation of danger flooded into Alexander’s mind.
“Threat!” he shouted, taking cover behind a tree and stretching out with his all around sight. What he saw made him catch his breath. He’d walked them into an ambush. A hundred or more pirates lined the ridge to the right of the trail and the only place they could go was into the ravine to the left of the trail.
Before he could react, Tyr’s wizard cast a spell. A blue sphere only an inch in diameter streaked into Alexander’s group and froze in space for a fraction of a moment before almost instantly expanding to a diameter of fifty feet, blowing everyone away from the center point of the spell, sending men flying into the woods, breaking small limbs off nearby trees and hurling loose rocks and branches in every direction.
The last thing Alexander remembered before plunging into the dark oblivion of unconsciousness was the sound of the wind in his ears as he flew through the air.
Chapter 3
He woke slowly, confusion and pain competing for his attention. He was being carried over the shoulder of a very large man. Reality and the severity of his situation slowly seeped into his awareness. His hands and feet were bound tightly, a gag cut into the sides of his mouth, and he hurt all over. Each hasty stride of the man carrying him jarred his body, revealing new bruises, each vying for his attention. He remained limp, reaching out with his all around sight, hoping to find something that he could use against his enemies but finding only confirmation that his predicament was indeed as bad as it seemed.
“Are you there, Little One?”
“Yes, My Love. Are you all right?” Chloe’s voice was fraught with worry and fear.
“I’ve been better. What’s happened?”
“We were ambushed. The wizard’s spell knocked everyone down and then they were on us.”
“The Stone … did they take it?”
“No. Jack told me to hide it in the aether along with your belt pouch. It’s in …”
“Stop. Don’t tell me. If I don’t know, they can’t make me tell them. Where are Jack and Anja?”
“Anja was taken, but Jack got away. He’s following in the forest.”
“Good. What about Kalderson and his men?”
“The pirates left them when their scout reported that Lancers were coming.”
“How long have I been out?”
“About an hour. What are we going to do, My Love?”
“I’m not sure yet, Little One.”
The pirates entered a clearing and Tyr called a halt. The man carrying Alexander flopped him onto the ground, insulting his bruises and reigniting his agony. He moaned slightly, trying to rein in his pain, not willing to let his enemies see even a hint of weakness.
“He’s awake,” the pirate said, rolling him onto his back with his boot.
Tyr stepped up next to Alexander, looking down at him with a mixture of malice and triumph. “You put up quite a fight. I have to say, I’ve never faced an adversary quite as resourceful as you.”
Alexander ignored him, focusing instead on the pain, taking it in and enduring it, facing it in order to master it, setting it aside and regaining his composure and some measure of control over his wounded body.
“Set them up against that tree and build a fire,” Tyr snapped to his men. “Where’s my scout report?”
Alexander let his head loll forward as he was propped up against the tree, feigning
exhaustion and despair, an easy enough task given his circumstances. They put Anja next to him … she was still unconscious and bound much more tightly than he was.
Tyr had about thirty men with him, including his wizard.
A man trotted out of the woods and stopped to catch his breath before giving his report.
“Well, where are they?” Tyr snapped.
“Still at the ambush site,” the man wheezed, breathing heavily. “You were right. Leaving the sailors alive gave us a good head start.”
Tyr snorted, muttering, “Idiots. We’ll rest and eat while we wait for the fire to burn down.”
His men spread out, some taking positions on the perimeter of their camp while others sat near the fire warming their hands.
“The coals are hot, Lord Tyr,” another pirate said after several minutes.
Tyr turned and looked at Alexander, smiling almost fondly as he drew his knife and buried the tip of the blade in the hot coals. “It won’t be long now,” he whispered, staring into the flames.
Alexander felt his soul quail for just a moment before he steeled himself to endure the coming torture.
“Little One?”
“Yes, My Love?”
“If I don’t survive this, promise me you’ll help Jack get the Sovereign Stone to Abigail before you join me in the light.”
“Don’t say such things. I can’t bear the thought of you dying.”
“Everything depends on the Stone. Promise me, please.”
“I promise,” she said very quietly in his mind.
Tyr withdrew the knife, the tip glowing orange. He walked slowly toward Alexander, turning the blade this way and that, kneeling in front of him and smiling as he laid it against Alexander’s forearm.
He tried not to scream, tried to control the agony, but it was so sudden and so intense that he simply couldn’t. His wail carried through the forest, and then the stench of burning flesh reached his nose and he vomited, choking on his own acid and bile. He lapsed into a fit of coughing and heaving that filled his already pain-wracked body with spasms of suffering.
Tyr sat back and watched Alexander try to regain control over his wounded body. “Do I have your attention?” he asked in the same tone one might ask another to pass the biscuits at the dinner table.
Alexander nodded, still trying to regain his composure.
“Good. I thought I might. You don’t have to suffer anymore. If you give me what I want, I will make sure that your journey to Phane is comfortable. If you don’t give me what I want, well …” He held up the still-glowing blade, turning it with suggestive malice.
“So, I’ve already recovered my sword,” he said, patting the hilt of the Thinblade at his hip. “But we didn’t find the Sovereign Stone, and quite honestly, I think Phane actually wants that more than he wants your head. Tell me where it is and we can be on our way … and all of this unpleasantness will end.”
“I don’t know where it is,” Alexander said, clenching his teeth in anticipation of the pain he knew his answer would bring, and he wasn’t wrong. Tyr slapped the hot blade against his forearm again, this time an inch from the first burn. Alexander tried to scream, but he couldn’t draw breath, the pain paralyzing him, overwhelming his senses and threatening to undo his sanity. Then he found himself floating over his body, his limp form slumping over into his own vomit.
Tyr stood up, frowning to himself. “Clean him up and move them both over there. I’m tired of smelling that,” he said, pointing at the bile staining the forest floor.
With a flick of thought, Alexander was floating next to Jack, who was watching from a distance, and from the color of his aura looked about ready to burst. Alexander appeared next to him, crouching behind a tree to avoid being seen.
“Alexander, what’s happening? Are you dead?”
“I don’t think so. The pain just put me out and I found myself in the firmament. We don’t have much time. If they kill me, you have to take the Stone to Abigail …”
He woke sputtering and coughing from a bucket of frigid water splashed in his face. He tried to think back to a time when he’d been this miserable, but the sight of the hot knife, glowing even brighter than before and being held in front of his face, focused his mind on the present.
“This is taking too long,” Tyr said, turning to the wizard behind him. “Tell me if he’s lying.”
“The spell will take a few moments to cast, Lord Tyr.”
“Hurry up,” he snapped.
Alexander watched the wizard’s colors swell with magic when the spell took effect.
Tyr smiled. “I had my court wizard master an aura-reading spell when I learned of your rather intriguing talent, so you of all people should know just how futile it is to lie to me. Now, let’s try this again. Where is the Sovereign Stone?”
“I don’t know.”
Tyr started to bring the hot blade down on his arm when the wizard spoke. “He’s telling the truth.”
“How can you not know where it is?” Tyr asked. “I saw you open your Wizard’s Den. You needed the Stone to do that, so where is it?”
“I don’t know,” Alexander said. “It’s probably back where you ambushed us. I had it before you attacked, but it was gone when I woke up.”
The wizard nodded and Tyr shot to his feet shouting a curse at the sky.
“That Stone is worth the entire Isle of Tyr to me and you’re telling me you left it lying in the dirt?” He was shouting at the stunned-looking men all around him, his face red, veins standing out at his temples. When no one responded, he surged toward the nearest man, plunging the red-hot knife into the man’s gut and pushing him over into the mud.
“Find! That! Stone!” he shouted with such force that his voice broke with each word.
His men stood stock-still for just a moment before they all started gathering their packs and making ready for travel just as another scout raced into the clearing.
“They’re coming,” he said.
“Who?”
“The Lancers, at least two platoons. They have our trail.”
Tyr seemed to struggle against another outburst before mastering himself and turning calmly to his wizard.
“Options?”
“If they’ve found the Stone, they’ll take the pretender and we cannot stop them. If they don’t have the Stone, we may yet deceive them.”
“How? He’s marked. They’ll know who he is the moment they lay eyes on him.”
“Not necessarily,” the wizard said. “I was once scarred badly, an attempt at discipline by my stepfather after a particularly long night of drinking.”
“What’s your point?” Tyr snapped.
“I created a spell that can erase a scar,” the wizard said, “sort of a modified healing spell.”
“Do it,” Tyr commanded.
Alexander didn’t resist. The mark burned into his neck had served its purpose, it was of no further value to him and being less conspicuous while trapped in enemy territory could only help him. The spell hurt, but nowhere near as badly as the hot knife, and the pain faded moments after the skin on his neck had been transformed.
Tyr knelt in front of him, anger and frustration shining as brightly from his eyes as it did from his colors. “Think of it this way, if you tell them who you are, they’ll take you straight to Phane, but if you play along, it’ll buy you some time. Who knows, you might even manage to escape before I steal you right out from under their noses.”
Lancers streamed into the clearing a few moments later, spreading out and surrounding the pirates. Tyr stood his ground, fists planted firmly on his hips, his chin thrust out, a scowl etched into his face.
A big man wearing epaulettes of rank rode into the clearing atop his rhone steed. He sneered at Tyr and then snorted derisively. “I’m Commander Udane. What’s your business here, Tyr?”
“That’s Lord Tyr to you.”
“You know very well that this forested range is off-limits and yet you choose to trespass against the Andalia
n Empire.”
Tyr started laughing. “Your feebleminded king can’t even control his own island and yet you insist on calling Andalia an empire.”
“Watch your tongue, Tyr!”
“Lord Tyr! And you would do well to watch your tongue. I’m a friend and ally of the Babachenko. Would you like to take this matter before him?”
The commander scowled, then spat at Tyr’s feet. “Who are your prisoners?”
“These two stole from me. I wrecked their ship, ran them to ground and now they’re mine.”
“No, they’re not,” Udane said. “All castaways that wash ashore on Andalian soil belong to the king. You will surrender them, or I will take you up on your offer to bring this before the Babachenko. I think we both know how he’ll decide in the matter.”
“They stole from me,” Tyr said. “Keep the sailors, but these two are mine.”
Udane raised his hand casually and several dozen Lancers dropped their force lances. Every member of Tyr’s force was targeted by at least two Lancers.
“How dare you?” Tyr sputtered, his face turning red. “I’m the King of Tyr, wielder of the Thinblade and master of the southern seas.”
“You are a small man with a big name,” Udane said, “and your name is the only reason you’re not flat on your back with my boot on your throat. Leave my prisoners, take your men and get off my island or I will see to it that you spend a month in the mines before anyone even figures out who you are.”
“This isn’t over, Udane. I’m going to bring this to the Babachenko, and these two will answer to me for their crimes.”
“Well, I guess that means you’ll have to sail to an approved port where you can apply for travel papers, then you’ll have to make your way to Mithel Dour and petition the Babachenko for their release into your custody. By then, I’ll have been paid my bounty and I won’t care what happens to them.”
Tyr seemed to be weighing further threats but stopped short. “Gather your things and make ready to travel,” he barked to his men, snatching up his pack and marching into the forest without a second look at either Udane or Alexander. His men scrambled to catch up with him, leaving Alexander and Anja surrounded by Lancers.
Linkershim (Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book Six) Page 3