Broken World Book Two - StarSword

by Southwell, T C

  They entered a massive, tapestry-hung hall, its walls festooned with trophies and coats of arms between lavish hangings and paintings. Grey walls supported a vaulted ceiling ornamented with carved beams and gilded gargoyles. High, tinted glass windows let in a flood of light to illuminate the tall, black and gold-armoured man who stood in the centre of the richly patterned jade floor. Beyond him, a platoon blocked the way to a huge pair of brass bound doors, which were closed and barred. More men lined the walls behind a row of marble pillars, while others looked down from the galleries high above. Talsy's first instinct was to run, especially when Tyrander drew his sword and cried, "Seize them!"

  Soldiers charged in from either side of Kieran's group, most of whose members were still in the corridor. They did not have time to draw their swords before their foes clubbed them down or overpowered them. Some snatched daggers from their belts and fought, but the struggle lasted only a few minutes, so badly outnumbered were they. Talsy hesitated, unsure of which way to run, but the battle behind her was already joined and Kieran stood alone, his sword sheathed. She hurried to stand beside him and face Tyrander.

  The brief battle ended as Kieran's followers were overpowered, disarmed and bound in ignominious defeat. Kieran glared at Tyrander with flinty eyes. Talsy understood the futility of fighting when they were so badly outnumbered. The resistance they put up was a mere token. Tyrander's men pushed aside the disarmed and battered soldiers, including Roth, who growled with rage. Two soldiers hustled the pale but composed Queen into the hall, and she glared at Tyrander.

  Tyrander leant on his sword and laughed, clearly enjoying his moment of triumph. "Now you'll see who's the better son, mother."

  "Release him, Tyrander, he's your brother."

  "All the more reason to kill him." He looked at Kieran, his eyes glinting with cunning insincerity. "But I shall offer him his freedom, since he's my brother, and now at my mercy. Leave the girl and you can all go free."

  Kieran shook his head. "You know I can't do that, even if you were sincere, which you aren't."

  The Prince laughed again, almost a cackle. "No, of course not. How well you know me already. Too bad we won't be able to spend more time together, as brothers should."

  "Stand aside. You have no chance against me," Kieran said. "Release us and you'll live until the Black Riders come. Challenge me, and you'll die here and now."

  "Don't bet on it."

  The Prince raised his hand, and an arrow hissed from a gallery and struck Kieran's upper arm, just beneath his shoulder armour. Talsy grabbed him as he staggered and tried to steady him, but he sank to one knee, his jaw clenched as he clasped the wound, blood oozing between his fingers. She knelt beside him and tried to staunch the blood with shaking hands.

  Tyrander cried again, "Seize them!"

  Soldiers charged from all around, swords drawn. Kieran rose to his feet and drew the Starsword with a slithering hiss. The ebon blade glinted in the bright light as he lunged at the closest man. The sword clove through his blade and armour, almost cutting him in half. Talsy stayed close to Kieran, wished she had a weapon and flinched from the spray of blood that splattered her cheek. Kieran spun, and she ducked as the Starsword passed over her head, cutting through men and weapons alike. The soldiers retreated, demoralised, and more arrows hissed from the galleries above. One hit Kieran in the shoulder, another impaled his thigh, making him stagger. She gripped his armour and tried to support him. Kieran raised the sword, pointing it at the galleries.

  "Fire!" he cried.

  The Starsword flashed, and an archer burst into flames with an agonised shriek, then fell to smack into the jade tiles with a sickening crunch and a splatter of blood. Kieran lowered the blade, pointing it at the massive wooden doors at the end of the hall.

  "Fire!"

  The doors exploded in an inferno of Mujar fire, consumed in moments as the men before them fled howling, beating at their burning clothes. Kieran spun, swaying, to face his brother, who stepped back, paling as the Starsword swung towards him.

  "Get him!" Tyrander bellowed, raising his arms in a defensive, warding gesture.

  Arrows hissed down, some striking Kieran's armour and bouncing off, others impaling his arms and legs with ugly thuds. One struck his cheek, glancing off the bone to protrude obscenely from the side of his face. He fell to his knees and shoved Talsy away, sending her sprawling.

  "Go! Run!" he shouted, his voice hoarse with pain.

  Talsy hesitated, unwilling to leave him at his brother's mercy, but his situation was hopeless, and she could do nothing to help him.

  "Run!" Kieran roared, flailing at her to drive her away. Goaded by his cry and the obvious desperation with which he struck at her, she rose and sprinted for the open doorway and the freedom of the rolling green hills beyond.

  Tyrander yelled, "Stop her!"

  Several soldiers dashed towards her, but Kieran raised the Starsword and pointed it at them. "Fire!"

  Two men burst into flames and fell screaming, the others veered away. Tyrander hopped with rage, now safe behind one of the pillars on the side of the hall.

  "Shoot her!" he shouted, gesturing to the archers.

  Two arrows hissed down, one striking Talsy's calf and the other ricocheting off the floor beside her. She fell with a yell, clutching the wound. Kieran pointed the sword at the pillar behind which Tyrander hid.

  "Fire!"

  The marble pillar ignited with a boom, glowing red hot and licked by blue flames. Tyrander leapt away with a yelp, darting behind another as he rubbed his singed face and crisped hair. The burning pillar turned to slag, slumped and flowed across the floor in a cooling pool of lava. Kieran tried to lever himself upright, slipping in his blood. He struggled to one knee, gasping with agony as the shafts that impaled him twisted.

  Tyrander stepped from behind the pillar and walked towards him, his eyes on the Starsword. Kieran tried to lift the sword, but it wavered in his grasp. His arms shook as weakness stole over him. The sword tip sagged to the floor, and Kieran leant on it, driving the blade into the stone with a hiss, halfway to the hilt before he slumped.

  Two soldiers grabbed Talsy and dragged her to her feet, ignoring her cries and struggles. Tyrander stood over his fallen twin, his face twisted with triumph and his blade poised to strike.

  "Tyrander, no!" the Queen's cry rang in the heavy silence. "He's your brother, let him live!"

  The Prince looked up. "You want him, mother?" he sneered. "You can have him. I have no use for weaklings and fools." He kicked Kieran, who groaned and opened his eyes to glare up at his gloating brother.

  Tyrander smiled. "It seems that instead of freeing the girl, you've brought me a fine gift, and for that I'm most grateful to you. Your idiocy in thinking that you could outwit me is amazing. Did you really think that any room in my castle could keep me prisoner? I have the Staff of Law, fool, and now I have a Mujar sword. With this weapon I have more power than anyone in the world!"

  Kieran glanced at the Starsword, silver now as it stood embedded in stone. His grimace of pain twisted into a bitter, faintly triumphant smile that the arrow shaft impaled in his cheek pulled askew. Blood ran from his mouth when he opened it. "Gloat all you want, the sword will never be yours. None can wield it but me."

  Tyrander turned to a soldier near him, a frown wrinkling his brow. "Pull it out."

  The man hesitated, clearly afraid, but stepped forward and gripped the hilt. He pulled mightily, grunting with exertion, then released it and retreated, glancing at his Prince. "It won't move, Highness."

  "I can see that, dolt." Tyrander regarded the sword with narrowed eyes. "No one but you, huh? Perhaps you're wrong in that assumption."

  The Prince approached the sword, gripped the hilt and pulled it from the stone with a soft grating hiss and a shower of brilliant sparks. It swung up, black and filled with stars once more. Tyrander grinned. "No one but you, or your twin." He studied the inky blade and the spray of stars deep within it. "You forget, we are two ha
lves of the same person, Brother. I am you, and you are me."

  "Not by a long shot," Kieran growled through gritted teeth. "Enjoy your triumph while it lasts, that blade will be your doom."

  "If you expect me to believe that, you're a bigger fool than I thought. Take him away," Tyrander snapped at his men. "Lock them in the dungeon and clean up this mess."

  The Prince stalked out, and his soldiers dragged Kieran towards the doors. They pushed and prodded the rest of the prisoners after him, and Roth helped Talsy. The Queen retained a little dignity, protected by a ring of Kieran's men. Their captors herded them down several flights of stairs and along cold corridors to a row of barred cell doors, where they pushed them into a dark, musty dungeon that two guttering torches lighted. Dirty straw covered the floor and rats fled their entry, scuttling along the walls. The men stamped on the scurrying vermin and caught Kieran as the soldiers thrust him into the cell, preventing him from falling and driving the arrows deeper. The soldiers sniggered as they left, tossing a few fresh torches onto the straw. The Queen's ladies made a soft bed of shawls and petticoats, and Kieran was laid on them.

  Kamish knelt beside him, her eyes filled with anguish. Talsy groaned as Roth lowered her to the straw, favouring her injured leg. A soldier ripped one of the ladies' petticoats into strips for bandages. Roth used a strip to bind her wound and went over to tend to Kieran, who had lapsed into unconsciousness. The Queen wiped his brow with her handkerchief, and Ardel comforted her as Roth and a soldier unbuckled Kieran's armour and pulled it off. One man drew a dagger from a hidden sheath, and Roth used it to cut away Kieran's tunic, revealing the extent of his injuries. Roth glanced at Talsy.

  "Does your Mujar mark mean you can help him, my lady?"

  Talsy shook her head in numb despair. "No, I have no powers."

  "Then we must do what we can." He handed the dagger to a soldier. "Hold it in the flames for a while."

  The man rose and went to sterilise the blade in a torch.

  Kamish gripped Roth's arm. "You must save him, Captain Roth!"

  "I'll try, Your Majesty." He hesitated. "I must cut out the arrows. Perhaps you should not watch."

  "He's my son, and I'm no squeamish schoolgirl," she stated.

  Roth bowed his head. "I know, Majesty, I meant no disrespect."

  Despite her brave words, Kamish looked away and held her handkerchief to her mouth as Roth cut the barbed arrowheads from Kieran's flesh. When he finished, fresh blood oozed from the wounds, but the Prince looked better without the protruding shafts. A long gash marred his cheek, which would leave a nasty scar. Roth sat back and wiped his brow as he surveyed his handiwork.

  "At least now even if Tyrander shaves off his beard the two will never look alike again," he muttered.

  The soldiers made Kieran comfortable on the pile of cloth, and the Queen's ladies set to work binding his wounds. Roth turned to Talsy, eyeing the shaft that protruded from her calf.

  "I'm afraid I must do the same for you, my lady."

  She nodded. "I know."

  Roth wadded a piece of cloth and gave it to her. "Bite on this."

  When he sliced into her skin, she was glad that her mouth was stuffed with it, otherwise her screams would have deafened the others. She fainted before he finished, leaving the pain behind to sink into a dark well of unconsciousness.

  When she woke, only one torch guttered on the wall. The men sat or lay on the straw, some sleeping, others talking or playing games to take their minds off their predicament. Roth slept, and Ardel sat with Kamish, who bathed Kieran's brow with a damp cloth. Talsy was relieved to find the arrow in her leg gone and the throbbing wound bound. Biting her lip, she crawled over to Kieran and settled opposite the Queen, studying his pale features.

  "How is he?"

  Kamish shook her head. "No better."

  "Has he woken at all?"

  "No." The Queen stroked the damp hair from Kieran's brow. "He's lost a lot of blood. Perhaps too much."

  Talsy pondered just how much he would object to all the female attention if he was awake.

  Kamish leant forward, her eyes intense. "Will your Mujar come? Will he save Kieran?"

  Talsy hesitated. "He'll come when I'm in danger, not before. If the Black Riders are close by, then it will be soon, I hope in time for Kieran."

  "I never thought that I would pray for the Black Riders to come, but now I do," Kamish muttered, "if that will bring the Mujar to save my son. Tyrander has become a monster. I long for his death, terrible though that may seem."

  Talsy's lips quirked in a bitter smile. "Maybe he'll chop his own head off with Kieran's sword."

  Tyrander stared at the Starsword, sunk deep in his chair, a cup of wine in one hand. Every now and then he gave a drunken giggle, remembering his triumph in the great hall. How sweet victory was, especially over one's twin brother. The sword was a fine prize, too. It lay across the arms of the chair, where he could study it at his leisure. Already he had sensed the tug of the black depths within the blade and averted his eyes from them before he became mesmerised. Now he made sure that his gaze skipped along the gleaming surface and avoided the trap of its starry depths. He sipped his wine and put aside the cup to take out the Staff of Law.

  "Staff, what can this sword do?"

  The fiery golden words formed before him. "It is the Starsword, created by a Mujar. It holds the power of Dolana and Crayash."

  Tyrander nodded. "Earth and fire, I know. But besides cut rock and burn things, what else does it do?"

  "It will fly to its owner when summoned, it will find what he has lost, keep him warm, warn him of danger -"

  "Go to him?" Tyrander sat up. "Why has he not called it then?"

  "Prince Kieran is unconscious."

  "Ah." Tyrander relaxed. "But then it will also come to me, should I call it."

  "Yes."

  Tyrander pondered this, weighing the success of his plans. Kidnapping the girl had earned him an unexpected prize in the sword, but his main goal, far more important than that, still remained unfulfilled.

  "Where is the Mujar?"

  "He moves to the north."

  The Prince frowned, irked by his failure to draw the Mujar into his trap. "Why does he still not come?"

  "The girl is in no danger."

  "Then I'll rectify that, and soon." Tyrander gulped his wine. "But now I think I'll try out my new toy."

  "It is not a toy," the burning words wrote.

  "Shut up, I didn't ask you for an opinion."

  Tucking the stone away, he rose unsteadily and made his way through the empty, echoing castle, giggling now and then as he stumbled. In the courtyard, he ordered the guards to set up straw bales against a wall, and they ran to the stables to fetch some. When several were stacked beside the wall, he pointed the blade at a bale and shouted, "Fire!"

  His aim was bad, due to his drunken state, and five-foot circular area in the wall behind the bales turned molten with a mighty boom. It slumped into the courtyard, igniting the straw. Tyrander stared at the river of lava, then burst out laughing as men rushed about with buckets of water to quench it before it set fire to other things. Delighted, the Prince looked about for a fresh target, spying a cart drawn up on the other side of the courtyard. This time the wood exploded into a brief blue inferno, reduced to ash in moments. Tyrander crowed with drunken laughter and pointed the Starsword again.

  Chapter Nine

  Kieran groaned and pushed at the shawls that covered him, turning his head away when Kamish pulled them over him again. She wiped away the sweat that beaded his brow with a damp cloth, shooting a worried look with Ardel.

  "He's becoming weaker."

  Roth joined them, studying Kieran's pale face. "If only he would call the sword."

  "What do you mean?" Talsy asked.

  "That sword of his, it comes when he calls it. I saw it. He shouted, 'Starsword', and the damn thing came straight through the bed, right into his hand."

  "What good would it do him? He's too
weak to hold it," Kamish pointed out.

  "It would take it away from Tyrander."

  The Queen nodded. "That's true."

  Talsy leant forward and shook the Prince. "Kieran, wake up."

  He turned his head, his brows drawing together, and opened his eyes to gaze at her.

  She said, "Call the sword."

  A weak smile tugged at his lips as he spoke in a hoarse whisper. "What good would it do me now? I failed you."

  Sweat ran down his brow, but it was too soon for his wounds to have caused a fever. Rather, it was the intensity of the pain that made him sweat, and her heart twisted with pity.

  "No you haven't, we can still beat him. If you call the sword, we can cut our way out of here and escape."

  He shook his head. "I don't have the strength."

  "We've got to try. Please just call it."

  "If Tyrander's got it, it won't come."

  "Just try. He's got to put it down some time."

  Kieran sighed, his eyes drooping with fatigue. Clearly he longed to release his tenuous hold on consciousness and slip back into the tender sea of oblivion.

  "Starsword."

  Everyone froze in anticipation, glancing around. Kamish placed a cool cloth on Kieran's brow, and his eyes closed again. "It's no good," he husked, "Tyrander's holding it."

  "You must keep trying. Tyrander has only to release it and it will come." Talsy urged, hoping she was right.

  "I'm too tired," he muttered. "Let me sleep."

  Tyrander stared at the blade. A second ago a powerful vibration had passed through it, almost making him drop it in surprise. Now it was dormant again, and he shrugged off the strange phenomenon. He looked around at his handiwork, a dozen piles of ash that had been straw bales and some artistic holes in the walls where he had practised cutting rock. The novelty was wearing off, however. He needed more interesting targets. Turning to the group of men who stood behind him, he ordered, "Bring me one of those traitors, one of the soldiers."