The Fall of Kyrace
Page 2
Tyndaros closed his eyes and nodded. "Aye. The fault is mine. We have been betrayed."
"Then it is the betrayer's fault, not yours," said Rykon. "The traitor...is it Mathanius?"
"Almost certainly," said Tyndaros. "Someone led the Imperial fleet through the coral maze warding the harbor. You urged me to execute him, when he betrayed us at Mors Naerius. I should have listened to you."
"That is past," said Rykon, though he could not keep the bitterness out of his voice. "What do you command?"
"The Tower of Storm," said Tyndaros. "Take me there. Quickly!" His voice rose. "The rest of you, you have fought manfully, but it is over. You may leave your posts with honor. Those of you who are slaves, you are free from this moment. The ships wait at the hidden harbor, to escape. If you hasten, you might yet make it in time. Go!"
Some of the soldiers stayed at their posts. But most left, running into the higher circles of the city, to the secret tunnels that led to the hidden harbor, where ships waited to take the women and children to safety in New Kyre.
“If the gate is undefended,” said Rykon, “the city will fall all the faster.”
“The city has already fallen,” said Tyndaros. “It is only question of time. Better that they flee to the ships than die upon the walls. Now, hasten! To the Tower of Storm!”
Rykon led the Archon through the circles of the city, past the ziggurats with their terraces, rippling ponds, and lush gardens, past the temples to the gods of storm and sea and salt, along the broad streets that climbed ever higher up the slopes of the Broken Mountain.
Until they came to the Tower of Storm.
The massive ziggurat rose from the highest circle of the city, fifteen steep tiers of polished granite. Every tier had its own ponds and gardens, beautiful even in the glow of the burning lower city. From here the Archons had ruled over the scattered Kyracian people from Ril Kyrion in the far north to Kyrikos in the south.
Until today.
They entered the Tower’s courtyard. Nine massive statues, each carved from a single block of green dolomite, stood over a central reflecting pool. Each statue represented one of the great elementals that had been bound within the Broken Mountain, when the first Archon and his people had fled here from the mainland.
“Good,” said the Archon, breathing hard, “good. There is still time.”
“To do what?” said Rykon. “The city is lost, you said so yourself.”
“Aye,” said Tyndaros, looking at the Broken Mountain’s jagged peak. “Aye, the city is lost. But I swear to you, by the gods of sea and storm, that the Empire will never possess Kyrace. I swear to you that the Imperial eagle shall never fly over the Tower of Storm. And I swear to you that the Empire will pay a bitter price for having ever set foot in Kyrace.”
“How?” said Rykon.
“There is a secret,” said Tyndaros, “passed down from Archon to Archon from the beginning of Kyrace. These statues are not just symbols. They are…anchors, the linchpins of the mighty spells binding the great elemental spirits within the Broken Mountain. Without those elementals, this island would be uninhabitable.” He placed one hand upon the nearest statue and looked at Rykon. “And I shall break those spells.”
Rykon blinked. “What will happen?”
“I do not know,” said Tyndaros, and Rykon had the impression that the old man lied. “But it will not be good for the Imperial army. Or for anyone left upon the island, for that matter. You must go, Rykon.”
“My place is here,” said Rykon.
“I release you from your service,” said Tyndaros.
“Then my place is to die here,” said Rykon.
“Agia is here, Rykon,” said Tyndaros.
Rykon felt his heart skip a beat. “What?”
“She is in the Tower of Catechon,” said Tyndaros. “I sent her here after the fall of Marsis, to keep her safe from Mathanius, since he would almost certainly come for her. Go to her, now, and make for the hidden harbor. If you hurry, you should just be able to make it.”
“You arranged this, didn’t you?” said Rykon. “My duty is to die here. But you knew I would leave for Agia.”
Tyndaros’s smile looked like a rictus, a death-mask. “Yes. I have made many mistakes, Rykon. But you are a worthy man, and too many worthy men have died for my errors. Now, go. Before it is too late.”
Rykon hesitated, but nodded at last. “Farewell, my Lord Archon.”
“Farewell, stormdancer,” said Tyndaros, turning towards the first statue. “When you reach the fleet, tell the captains to keep to the south side of the island at all costs.”
“Why?” said Rykon. “You…know what releasing the elementals will do, don’t you?”
“It has been an honor, Rykon of House Kardamnos, stormdancer of Kyrace,” said Tyndaros, and he turned away.
He drew a dagger, slashed it across his palm, and let his blood fall upon the first of the massive statues. Then he began to sing in a quiet voice. The statue shuddered, and Rykon felt the stirrings of arcane power deep within the earth.
Massive amounts of arcane power, like a sleeping beast waking beneath his feet.
He left the courtyard, moving with sorcery-enhanced speed across the city's upper circle. The Tower of Catechon rose against the darker bulk of the Broken Mountain, looking like a smaller version of the Tower of Storm. Graceful statues rose from the Tower’s gardens, statues of stormdancers with their blades, or stormsingers with their hands raised to the heavens.
No doubt the gardens and the statues would soon burn with the rest of the city.
He hurried to the Tower’s top level and found Agia standing by a reflecting pool, watching the burning docks. She wore a long gown of green, black hair bound back from her slender neck by a silver circlet. The glare from the flames painted her face with hellish light, and he saw tears trickling down her cheeks.
“Agia,” he said.
She turned to face him, one hand flying to her mouth.
“Rykon,” she said, and collapsed into his arms.
For a moment he forgot the Imperial armies, the burning city, the ruin of Kyrace. But only for a moment.
“How did this happen?” she murmured. “How could they have gotten into the city?”
“We were betrayed,” said Rykon.
Agia looked up at him, eyes full of pain. “Mathanius?”
Rykon nodded. “The Archon thinks he led the Imperials through the coral maze. That’s how they got into the harbor without ruining their ships. And with the fleet away, and most of our forces scattered among the colonies…”
“He knew.” Her mouth thinned. “If only the Archon had listened to you…”
“Then none of this would have happened,” said Rykon. If Tyndaros had overruled Mathanius, and allowed Rykon to wed Agia, then Mathanius would have been humiliated. He would not have been bold enough to attempt to seize the Archon’s chair by force, and he would not have turned to the Empire of Nighmar for aid once treachery failed.
“None of it,” whispered Agia.
“That is in the past, my love,” said Rykon. “We must go. There are ships waiting in the harbor. We must reach them before…”
“Before justice is done?” said a deep voice.
Rykon spun, pushing Agia behind him, his sword raised.
A man in the gray-green robe of a stormdancer stood on the other side of the reflecting pool, sword in hand. A black cloak emblazoned with a golden Imperial eagle hung from his shoulders. Silver streaked his black hair, and his lips twitched with amusement.
“Mathanius,” said Rykon.
“Traitor,” spat Agia. “What are you doing here?”
“For your own good, little sister,” said Mathanius, striding around the edge of the pool. “Soon the Legions will break the inner gate, and the city shall be sacked. The men shall be slain, the women raped and sold into slavery. As you are my sister, I would spare you that.” His lip twisted with contempt. “Instead, you seem to prefer the company of this fool.”
Mathanius snorted. “Don’t be trite, girl. The Empire has eight times the population and territory of every Kyracian city, combined. Sooner or later we will be conquered. Better to join with the Empire on our own terms. Once Kyrace falls and the idiot Tyndaros is dead, I will be made Imperial governor over the Kyracian cities, and I will lead our people to new glory.” He smiled. “And the Emperor is old. Perhaps I will take his place upon the Imperial throne.”
“Or,” said Rykon, “the Emperor will have you killed, now that your usefulness has ended.”
Mathanius's smile faltered, just for a moment. "You speak of things above your understanding."
"Treachery," said Rykon, "is not so difficult to understand. Nor is jealousy."
"Jealousy?" said Mathanius. "It was my family that should have sat upon the Archon's throne." He shook his head, lifting his sword. A blade of storm-forged steel, similar to Rykon's. "And you had the temerity, the gall to ask for my sister's hand in marriage. Don't you understand? She belongs to me, and I shall decide her husband. Just as Kyrace belongs to me, and I shall decide..."
He struck in midsentence, his blade blurring with lethal speed. Among all the stormdancers of Kyrace, Lord Mathanius had ever been the fastest and the strongest. But Rykon saw the attack coming, and drew upon his own air sorcery. Mathanius's blade rebounded from his parry, and Rykon struck back, sword stabbing for the older man's heart. Mathanius slapped the sword aside and danced back.
"Brother!" shouted Agia. "Stop this! You have already stained your hands with treachery and murder! Do not soil them further with the blood of my beloved!"
"Be silent, Agia," said Mathanius, the point of his sword tracing lazy circles in the air. "And you, Rykon. Do you really think to fight me? I took up the blade and cast my first spell long before you were born. I slew my first man in a duel at the age of eleven. You cannot possibly defeat me."
"Perhaps not," said Rykon, calling lightning into his sword. The blue light fell over the Tower's top, brighter than the stars, brighter than the fires devouring the city below. "But I may yet keep you from reigning as a puppet over our enslaved people, murderer and coward."
A spasm of fury crossed Mathanius's face, and he sprang forward with a roar of fury, his sword spitting lightning.
The blades met and met again, a score of times in half as many heartbeats. Rykon drove at Mathanius with every ounce of strength he possessed, his sorcery giving his strikes the speed of a hurricane and the strength of a flood. But Mathanius met every blow, his lips peeled in a rictus of rage. Rykon's momentum played out, and Mathanius struck back, lightning snarling and sparking between their swords.
Mathanius's sword licked out, opened a cut on Rykon's jaw.
Another on his left forearm.
Rykon stumbled back, trembling from exhaustion. He had already spent much of his strength fighting the Legionaries and Corthios, and Mathanius was fresh. Then Mathanius's next blow sent the sword tumbling from his fingers, and Rykon dropped to one knee.
Mathanius's sword tip came to rest against his throat.
"I wish I had time to make you suffer," said Mathanius. "You deserve no less. But I suppose a quick death will have to do." He raised his sword high, ready to bring it crashing down upon Rykon's skull.
A song rang out. A woman's voice, clear and high. Agia stood on the edge of the Tower, hands raised, gown billowing about her in a sudden wind.
Arcane power stirred.
Mathanius stared at her in shock. "Sister?"
Lightning exploded out of the sky, screamed down Mathanius's raised sword, and stabbed into his chest. The blast threw him to the ground, his sword bouncing from his grasp, smoke rising from his robes.
It was Rykon's last chance.
He seized his sword and buried the blade below Mathanius's ribs. He shrieked in pain, clawing at the sword, but his eyes turned towards Agia, not Rykon.
"Why?" he breathed. "Why?"
"For our people," said Agia, voice bitter. "For our city, which even now burns."
Rykon wrenched his blade free, and Mathanius, the traitor of Kyrace, shuddered and died. Agia bowed her head, fresh tears falling from her eyes. Rykon put his hand upon her shoulder, and she slumped against him, weeping.
A thunderous crash rang from the lower city as the Legions smashed their way through the inner gate.
"Come," said Rykon, "we must go."
###
The tramp of iron-shod boots echoed over the Tower of Storm’s courtyard.
Tyndaros looked up from the final statue, shaking with weariness. Eight of the nine statues had been shattered, lying in broken pieces across the courtyard. Arcane power hissed and snarled through the earth, the energy crackling along his skin.
It was almost done.
He lifted his gashed palm, let some blood fall upon the final statue, and began to sing.
Men in the black armor and purple cloaks of the Imperial Guard marched into the courtyard, accompanied by crimson-armored battle magi. Then came the high magi and more Imperial Guards, and finally the Emperor himself, proud and stern atop his horse, his black armor chased with gold.
The Archon of Kyrace stopped singing and looked at his conqueror.
Behind him, fine cracks spread across the final statue.
“So,” said the Emperor, “we meet at last.”
“Yes,” said Tyndaros.
The cracks widened. He felt the power shuddering, like a vast storm about to break. The elementals bound within the Broken Mountain were stirring.
“And it is over,” said the Emperor.
“Yes,” said Tyndaros. “For me. And for you as well.”
The Emperor sneered. “Kill this old fool. Make him suffer.”
The high magi and the Imperial Guards started forward.
Behind Tyndaros, the final statue shattered, and the elementals bound within the mountain were free.
The earth shook and sent men sprawling to the ground. The courtyard walls collapsed, and the Emperor fell from the back of his horse. The sound of cracking stone rang over the quaking city like thunder.
And the top of the Broken Mountain began to burn.
###
Even from ten miles away, the explosion almost destroyed the fleet.
Rykon stood with Agia at the stern of their ship, helping her stand as she joined the other stormsingers in throwing all her power into the fleet’s sails. He saw the top of the Broken Mountain explode, saw it erupt in a whirling storm of ash and molten stone.
The thunderclap reached his ears, enormous and deafening. The sea heaved and shook, the ships bouncing like toys, and Rykon just managed to keep Agia from falling over the rail into the gyrating waters.
And as he leaned against the rail, he saw the Broken Mountain collapse, saw the hanging towers of Kyrace vanish in the raging flood of molten stone, saw the Imperial fleet disappear into the billowing plume of the ash. Ancient Kyrace, in all its pride and beauty, with all its ziggurats, and temples, and libraries, and scholars and stormsingers and slaves, vanished in the Broken Mountain's inferno, never to be seen again.
Along with the Emperor, the Legions, and the high magi of the Nighmarian Empire.
A colossal wave spread from the island, a towering wall of water, and Rykon feared it would capsize the fleet. But Tyndaros’s warning had proven true. The northern face of the Broken Mountain had buried Kyrace and the Imperial Legions, but the southern side of the island had shielded the fleet from the wave.
“He knew all along,” said Rykon, staring at the burning island. “The great elementals within the mountain had kept it from erupting for all these millennia. He knew Kyrace would fall, so he waited until the Legions had entered the city…”
“And killed them all,” whispered Agia.
Together they watched their home, and their enemies, burn.
###
A few days later the fleet arrived at New Kyre.
&
nbsp; With its leadership dead, the Empire had erupted into civil war, the remaining Kyracian colonies overlooked.
Rykon led Agia into New Kyre with a sense of hope.
Together, they could make their people strong again.
THE END
Thank you for reading THE FALL OF KYRACE. If you liked the story, please consider leaving a review. You can read a free novel set in the world of the Empire and Kyrace, CHILD OF THE GHOSTS, at this link. To receive immediate notification of new releases, sign up for my newsletter, or watch for news on my Facebook page. You can also read some of my free ebooks here.
Other books by the author
The Frostborn Series
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The Third Soul Series
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The Outlaw Adept
The Black Paladin
The Tomb of Baligant
The Third Soul Omnibus One
The Third Soul Omnibus Two
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The Ghosts Series
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Ghost in the Flames
Ghost in the Blood
Ghost in the Storm
Ghost in the Stone
Ghost in the Forge
Ghost in the Ashes
Ghost in the Mask
Ghost Dagger (World of the Ghosts novella)
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