JOURNEY OF THE SACRED KING III

by JANRAE FRANK

  Maya ran to Derryl, kneeling in the filth, scarcely smelling it while she dug through the mounds of excrement half covering him. He lay sprawled among animal droppings and human feces, broken bricks and pieces of furniture, rotted food, and other detritus that had been swept up by water that ran through the cavern system from which the sewers had been carved. Some of the filth had been tossed here from the basements that opened on the sewers. His rib bones showed through the tears left by the lash, which had been applied with cruel force. His arms lay twisted, the wrists still confined by the irons. There were a multitude of burn scars, reddened vicious things, crisped around the edges, some long and others just dots. The marks of vampiric feedings covered his arms, legs, neck, and much of his body.

  Derryl groaned.

  Maya touched him, tentatively at first, and then dragged his head and shoulders into her arms.

  "Maya? How?" His voice was a rasping whisper, struggling to breathe. "Run ... get away from here."

  "Dynarien!" Maya called, struggling with the irons on Derryl's wrists. "Help me! I cannot manage him with these irons they've set him in."

  Dynarien knelt beside her, snapping the irons with his hands, and then removing the wristlets. Maya stared at his sheer strength. Although Dynarien had tried to be gentle, removing the irons had broken open the swollen, infected lacerations around Derryl's wrists. Pus, blood, and other putrid matters ran down Derryl's arms. He finally took Derryl's wrist to Read him. There was nothing they could do for him and that angered Dynarien. Another damned death and he had not been able to stop her. At least he knew his enemies now. Dynarien summoned blankets from his home, covering Derryl's battered nudity, as gentle as a father with a babe. "We need to leave, but I'm taking a lot of them down as we go."

  "Can't we just Jump?" Maya asked.

  "No," Dynarien shook his head at her. "He's too weak. The Jump would kill him. We need to get him to Eshraf."

  "There are things I – I need to tell... Warn Yukiah." Derryl stiffened with a wave of pain cresting through his shattered body.

  Maya nearly broke into weeping as she drew the chain from around her neck and placed the ring into his hand, closing his fingers around it.

  For a moment, he simply looked at her and then he knew. "He's dead?"

  "Yes. Ambrose did it. Struck from behind."

  When he could speak again Derryl continued, "Eshraf. Galee is the Lemyari. She stuck me."

  Dynarien summoned his pack, poured from a vial into a glass, and helped Derryl to drink. The pollendine left a purple stain on Derryl's mouth. "Just enough to take the edge off. Not enough to put you out."

  "You look a proper battlemage now," Lord Derryl said suddenly.

  That was when Dynarien realized that Derryl did not know. He had not been in the city when his sister Dynanna stormed through. Maya turned to look at him and stared, for he had summoned his armor and weapons. In light of what the trolls had done to him at Errilyn and the weapons of those guardsmyn – which he was only now beginning to suspect had been enchanted – he had added a breastplate to his chain mail, vambraces, and greaves. His surcoat proclaimed his divinity and with his anger his aura shone forth in all the glorious greens of the woodlands.

  "Holy One," Maya gasped and Dynarien blushed.

  "Yes, we've found ... the yuwenghau Eshraf has been ... hiding. Before you kick that door down ... who are you? Device is familiar."

  "The Rose Warrior. Dynarien Willodarusson. Twice-born Son of Willodarus."

  "Eshraf found us ... a good one, my love."

  "Talons did." Dynarien corrected. "I promised her I would come."

  "Thank you." Derryl sagged against Maya and then his body twisted in another convulsion, twitching. He clutched at her.

  "Derryl!" She held him tightly until it passed. "You're the one Timjimikin said had come."

  "He's my son. You haven't much time, Lord Derryl. We need to go."

  Dynarien went to the door of the basement from which Derryl had been tossed, and kicked the door in. It flew inward, shattering and splintering into a thousand shards as if hit by an impossible ram. Loud cries of alarm and rage erupted. Dynarien's lips thinned into an icy smile. He summoned his golden sword into his hand, beginning the slaughter as the lesser bloods descended upon the door, letting them come to him. He needed no art. Not yet. These were common folk that Galee's people had turned. The bright blade, forged by Eldarion Havenrain, greatest of sylvan smiths, sliced through them as if their bones were made of butter.

  Maya followed him, Derryl's arm drawn across her shoulders, her Sharani strength seeing her in good stead where a female of lesser race would never have managed it. Derryl smiled at the slaughter. "Rose Warrior indeed... He equals his legend."

  She walked gingerly among the scattered body parts, some of them twitching spasmodically. Mixed among them were blue roses, many with long stems. The fragrance filling the chamber was overpowering, making her head swim, filling her mind with strange images of pastel sunsets and castles with a thousand spires, each one more delicate than the next. "Do you see it, Derryl? Just behind your eyes?"

  "Yes, Maya... Yes, I – I see it. It's the roses ... doing it, my love." He shuddered with pain and for a minute he could not speak. "A thousand forgotten shores..." he murmured, reciting from an ancient poem, "and lost dreams."

  Dynarien summoned his pack again, taking out a crystal globe. He tapped it and everything in the room of value and importance was swept up, sent whirling into the globe. Then he returned the globe to his pack. Dynarien Read Derryl again. "It is fortunate she chose to be cruel and make your death a slow one. There is a good chance you will reach Eshraf."

  "And Eshraf can help him?" Maya asked.

  "There is no cure for Lemyari venom. It is one of those things that came out of the last godwar. Derryl will be able to give Eshraf his testimony. Name his murderer."

  "No," Maya looked from one to another, her voice desperate with denial. "No. Someone is going to help him."

  "Maya! Don't dishonor me with ... a show of weakness ... daughter of the Guild."

  Maya went silent.

  Dynarien opened the next door, revealing a stair. The steps were short and narrow, with a splintery rail along one side. "Can you manage him?"

  "I'm Sharani."

  Dynarien accepted that as a yes and started up. Lord Derryl had saved Edouina, bought Mikkal time to arrive by delaying the vote of the council that day, and faced off against Wrathscar time and again. The yuwenghau raged that there was so little he could do for Derryl now. Dynarien could hear voices at the top. A board creaked under his foot and he cursed silently. The door opened and the first mon came down at him. This one was human, wearing chain, but with all of the yuwenghau's strength driving the blade it did the mon no good and Dynarien split him from groin to breast bone. The second mon tried to back up as Dynarien stepped onto the fallen mon and beheaded him. Kenda'ryl, forged by Eldarion Havenrain into a matchless blade, could not be stopped by anything these commoners possessed. It was not lightly called the metal of the gods. Dynarien went on and killed three more as he emerged into a small warehouse. "It is safe, Maya."

  Maya entered, bringing Derryl, staring at how in moments the room had carpeted itself in roses. As before, Dynarien took his globe out and stole everything in the room.

  "Why do you do that?"

  "It's a policy of my sister's that I have picked up, looting the enemy. Sometimes we recover stolen souls, stolen artifacts, and important documents. And it is important to leave them with fewer resources to use against us. I'll give these things to Eshraf."

  The next door led out onto a street and Maya recognized it. "We are three blocks from the Black Lady Tavern. Tuhk will help us."

  Dynarien hung his shield at his back, lifting Derryl to his shoulder. "Lead us."

  Faces watched from every dark corner, staring at Maya. Voices called to her, making remarks about the pretty lady until they noticed the heavily armored male walking behind her and realized t
hat she was not alone. She pushed at the door and was surprised to find it locked. Maya pounded harder.

  "We're closed," Tuhk's voice sounded suspicious, angry.

  "Please, Tuhk. Please, my lord is hurt."

  The door opened a crack. Tuhk peered at her and then tried to close it again when he saw Dynarien. However, Maya, seeing the door start to close, pushed in so that he would have been forced to hurt her had he shut it. Tuhk released the door, stepping back to let them in, looking unhappy. Then he slammed it to, barring and locking.

  "Wrathscar is giving me trouble." The tavern master glanced at the tortured mon draped over Dynarien's shoulder, seeing only his back, wondering what fresh trouble had been brought here.

  "I'm sorry, Tuhk." Maya touched his arm briefly. "Dynarien is carrying my lord."

  Tuhk's eyes widened and then narrowed. "Lord Derryl?"

  "After tomorrow," Dynarien growled, "Wrathscar will be dead." He carried Derryl to a long plank and trestle table, easing him down upon it.

  "Truly?" Tuhk brightened with grim relief, showing that he had been hard pressed. "That is a promise?"

  "By the creation and my father's name, I swear to see him dead for the harm he has done the woman I love."

  "And who is your father?" Tuhk moved to Derryl's side as he spoke, his face growing grim as he realized the extent of his friend's injuries.

  "Willodarus, God of the Woodlands and Wild Creatures. I am Dynarien, his Twice-Born Son, called the Rose Warrior, dragon slayer, trollbane." Roses swept through the room, reflecting his simmering rage.

  "Holy One!" Tuhk bowed to him, and then added, "He needs a healer. I will fetch one."

  "No, Tuhk," Maya stopped him. "We need horses. We must reach Eshraf quickly. Healers can't help him. Look at his leg, Tuhk. He's dying. They threw him on a trash heap in the sewers."

  Maya parted the blankets, dreading what she would see, but she had been watching the green pus emerge for a while. There were great red welts and in the two centers necrotizing splotches of black oozing green and yellow pus with spidery lines running from ankle to hip.

  Tuhk's eyes widened at the small punctures through which corruption oozed. He knew what it meant. His brow wrinkled into deeply folded valleys all the way to his heavy black thatch. "We have horses. My sons and I will get you to the castle. I will take him up before me and cradle him like a child to my chest." His voice grew hoarser with each word until it became a grating whisper. "Who did this? Do you know?"

  "The building was owned by Wrathscar, but Galee did it. She is Lemyari, a demon-vampire. Her nails contain deadly venom. She stuck him."

  "Tuhk, none of this must get out before tomorrow," Dynarien said. "Galee and Wrathscar must not learn that we plan to attack them."

  "But won't they know you rescued Derryl?"

  "They won't know whether I found him alive or not. I found him by scrying. Then I stole everything out of their warehouse. No evidence. If we are attacked, everyone must keep riding. I'll fight them off."

  * * * *

  Tulik sat on the benches at the training grounds, watching the others practice, waiting for his turn. When he had dropped by Talons' rooms a short while ago, he learned that Dynarien had taken her and Edouina to Imralon for lunch with his father. If Cass had not thrown herself out the window, they would probably know by now who had been behind the plot against Talons. He wished he had been there. Nothing exciting ever seemed to happen around him. Everything important tended to happen before he arrived or after he left. He had even missed the discovery of the vampires nesting in that rundown warehouse in the Poor Quarter. By the time he arrived the fight had been over. His only comfort was that, having been marked by Hadjys, he was guaranteed a place in the Guild. Eventually the rest would come.

  "Tulik?"

  Tulik started. He had not heard Galee come up.

  "Yes, Lady?"

  "You're going to the wedding tomorrow, aren't you?"

  "Absolutely. My father expects it."

  "I have something I want to show you. It's for the wedding and I really need your opinion on it."

  "What is it?"

  "I don't want to spoil it, so will you come along and let me show it to you?"

  Tulik glanced at the field and back to Galee. "I don't know. I'm waiting for my turn."

  "It won't take long, I assure you." She slipped her arm through his, ending his attempts at protest. Tulik had always found arguing with females difficult, especially when they looked like Galee. He wanted to refuse, but something about her drew him irresistibly.

  "Okay," Tulik said, doubting it could hurt to look at a wedding gift.

  Galee led him to her chambers and gestured for him to precede her. He went in and felt a fleeting sense of wrongness here. The other knights were constantly telling him that Galee was not to be trusted. He stared at the black lacquer furniture and the hellish colors of the wall-hangings. Tulik heard the bar drop and his heart jumped into his throat. He started for the door, but she blocked his way, striking a seductive pose. She opened her blouse, exposing her breasts.

  Tulik gulped as his body reacted, his member going hard and aching to get inside her. He knew her reputation. He had never been with a woman before, but he had dreamed about it constantly.

  "You've probably heard the rumors that I favor young males like yourself. Well, they're true. I've been watching you for a long time," Galee purred, exuding sensuality.

  "You – you have?" He could not move and she came and rubbed herself against him. Tulik could smell her perfume and beneath that an incredibly sexual musk.

  "Yes, I have." She took him by the hand, leading him into the bedroom.

  Tulik goggled as she slithered out of her clothes, throwing them on the floor.

  She took his hand, rubbing it against the mound between her legs while she teased his manhood with light touches. "Take your clothes off."

  Tulik climbed out of them as quickly as he could manage and grabbed at her breasts. He could not believe his luck. All the warnings from his friends dissolved into nothing. Galee laughed, drawing him onto the bed with her. She opened her legs wide, beckoning him. Tulik sucked in a deep breath and stuck his fingers into her, not quite certain what to do first. He rubbed at her clit for a few seconds, but his cock felt as if it were screaming to get inside her. All the sex talk among his buddies had told him that he needed to satisfy the woman, yet he was losing it steadily. Impulsively, he grabbed his cock and, after a few tries, managed to get it into her. Tulik moaned at the warm wetness closing around his cock; shuddering with the intensity of pleasure in finally losing his virginity. He was coming fast, he could feel it building.

  Galee nuzzled his side and then licked his arm. Tulik did not know what she was doing, but he did not care – he was finally getting some. He grunted and shoved, panting with his efforts. Galee's teeth lengthened. She found the large vein in his arm and bit. He cried out, thrashed for a minute as he came, and went suddenly still. Tulik lowered his eyes to watch her sucking the life's blood from his veins, tendrils of power slid into his mind. He wanted to scream, but his throat would not work. Lethargy stole over him as she continued to suck greedily. She rolled him onto his back.

  Tulik stared dully up at her, so weak he could barely keep his eyes open.

  "You know who I am?"

  Tulik nodded. "You're the vampire we've been looking for."

  "Are you going to tell anyone?"

  "No."

  "Now get back into your clothes like a nice little boy. I have something for you to do tomorrow."

  Tulik had to grip the edge of the bed to remain upright as he obeyed.

  Galee brought out a wrapped package from her dresser, placing it in his hands. "You will go to your rooms and sleep until tomorrow. You are not feeling well. You will let no one know you have this. Do not open it until the vows are exchanged. When you open it, you will know what to do with it."

  Gylorean Galee watched Tulik walk unsteadily from her apartments with a satisfied
smile upon her face. She had gotten past the godmark on his chest in a single thrust because sex had lowered his guard, and she had placed a seeking blade in the hands of an innocent. Tomorrow a godmarked Guild student would murder the Grand Master before witnesses. One by one her enemies fell. If only she had found a way to gain access to the temple and desecrate the altar. She never understood how Eshraf sniffed out her minions. It was as if he possessed some arcane instinct, some sensitivity. He could walk into a room and unerringly point them out. He never traveled alone, exposed, but always in company of armed priests and guards. Eshraf was a canny devil. He had mysterious spies, invisible creatures that no one saw. Were there Shadonmi in Havensword? Could he possibly have gotten the shadow folk from Hadjys? Galee shivered. What other explanation could there be? Well, tomorrow it would be over and Eshraf would be dead with all the rest. Channadar and his surviving Fae would prove no challenge either. The city would be hers and the realm would follow; she had agents in every holding except Channadar's. Curse him.

  * * * *

  Eshraf insisted they place Derryl in his own bed. The Patriarch favored warm, dark colors that kept the light out well when he wanted to sleep – his body's instincts were still that of the farmer he had once been and the first touch of light woke him completely. The bed was a huge curtained monstrosity with the Rune of Hadjys and the Book and the Blade carved into both the headboard and the footboards; the canopy supported by thick smoothly finished columns. The deep green velvet of the curtains was the full extent of the elegance he was willing to endure and the bed was covered with his favorite old-fashioned quilted comforters. He sent priests to fetch Shaheeramaat to ease Derryl's passing.

  Alysyn settled on the window seat. Tuhk and his three sons sat on the floor in a downcast circle in the corner between the window seat and the Patriarch's desk. Mikkal sat at the desk itself, recording the last accounts that had been given them of finding Derryl in the sewers and how they succeeded in reaching the temple.