Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1)

by Nicholas Andrews

  A flash of recognition caught in her mind as she passed. The man was Chalis, one of the slayers of King Lahnen. As a landowner of hefty acreage, he had been allowed to be present for this ceremony. Of course, Nerris and Rade were to be among her first Dume-Generals. But the other, Mikaren... she had been told he met his end at the Battle of Gelnicka.

  She tore her gaze from Chalis to look upon the great earthen bowl positioned at the top of the dais, about five paces in front of the throne. It was filled near to the brim with water, and the tiny vibrations of her steps made it ripple as she approached. She stood behind it, facing the gathered crowd. They were all silent, gazing upon her with eager eyes.

  Qabala took a breath and spoke. “Good people of Yagolhan, you have followed me as Lady Qabala. Some of you call me queen, and some already name me Aeterna. But now we find out the truth behind these words. I have a godstone, and if it accepts me, I will reign for the rest of my days as your Aeterna. I will use it to protect our people, to destroy our enemies, and to create a new world, putting an end to injustice and sorrow. Those who are hurt shall be healed, and remain so as long as life persists.” She glanced to Rade. “Dume Yorne, bring me the godstone Fatexion.”

  The crowd broke out into murmurs at the mention of Rade’s true identity, and the old man nodded. At his orders, four servants entered the great hall, bearing a small litter. A velvet cushion sat atop it, and the Doom Rock rested in the center. The godstone was inactive at the moment, looking for all the world as an ordinary gray rock.

  The servants presented the litter to Rade, and he grasped the Doom Rock with both hands. The stone broke out into a purple glow, and Nerris’s scabbard rattled again. He placed a hand on Noruken’s hilt as Rade ascended the steps and dropped the godstone into the waters of the earthen bowl.

  White flames sprang up, and Rade barely got out of the way in time. The Aristian Flames crackled and emanated a great heat, and the sweat rolled freely down Qabala’s face. If this worked, she would be consecrated as Aeterna, the supreme ruler of all. If not...

  “If not, who will miss the poor village girl, the one too afraid to stand up to her own father, too frightened but to lie there and take his abuse?” She heard the voice of the Tattered Man, clearer than ever. “Through everything up to this moment, you have been as nothing. Do it now, and answer to no one from this day forth.”

  Qabala gritted her teeth, gripped the sides of the bowl and plunged her head into the flames. A bright light flashed, and the world went silent as she immersed herself in the waters below. She held herself under for a moment before wrenching her head from the bowl, flinging droplets of water in every direction.

  She opened her eyes, looking at the bowl. The flames were gone, and the water was empty. However, she did not need to ask where the godstone had vanished to. She could feel it within her, empowering her, permeating her skin. She saw with more clarity, moved with greater speed and without strain, heard even the faintest whisper uttered. All over, she tingled, and she touched her own face with a plaintive hand. She felt no scarring or burning; the flames had not harmed her.

  Meznas stepped forward. “Behold, the new Aeterna! By Eversor’s will, she comes to save this world from its own misery!”

  The throng of men all went to a knee and bowed low. All, except one, who stepped out onto the crimson carpet. “No!” shouted the man known as Chalis. “I don’t know who this Eversor is, but after what I saw in Gelnicka, I will suffer no monster on the throne of my beloved country.”

  Nerris and Rade strode forth to stop him, but Chalis bowled through his old comrades with a desperate strength. He pulled a short blade out of his boot as he approached, and Qabala reached for her own saber, realizing too late she still wore her plain shift and no weapons.

  Meznas barked orders, and two of his cultists rushed Chalis with their own blades. Chalis did not flinch, but cut through them with the fury of a madman. They fell screaming to the carpet, frantically trying to hold in their own entrails. Meznas moved forward himself, but he was too slow.

  Chalis plunged his blade through Qabala’s stomach, and she leaned forward in surprise. Nerris, Rade, and Meznas were there now to drag him away, but she could not hear anything they said through her shock. Chalis yelled something about her betraying Yala, and Nerris rushed back to her.

  “Qabala,” he said, taking her hand.

  She looked into the handsome face of the man she loved, his big hazel eyes faltering with worry. She felt the blade within her, piercing her organs and feeling the blood flow from her. Yet she didn’t lose her feet. Instead, she drew herself up and placed Nerris’s hand on the hilt of the blade. Together, they pulled it out.

  She felt the organs and skin tissue mend themselves as the blade left her. It was instant, as if the effects of the blade itself were being reversed. She still felt the pain, but the bleeding stopped. She was alive. For as long as she held the godstone within her, she always would be.

  Nerris witnessed this as well, and dropped the blade in surprise. Qabala felt the skin where it had pierced her. Not even a scar remained. It was as if her body had been made of a clay statue, molding itself back into form as the intrusion left her. The only evidence anything had happened to her at all was the bloodstained hole in her shift.

  She took her eyes from Nerris and addressed the worrying crowd. “I am Queen Qabala Aeterna,” she told them. “I am the answer to prayers which have gone unheard for almost thirty years. The New Gods are fled or dead, but there is one coming. One who will take us in his embrace, one who will envelop the world, smite the wicked, and spare the faithful. Eversor will come, and I stand here as his herald!”

  She wasn’t sure how she knew this, but then realized it was the godstone. It had made sure she knew exactly what to say. The men in the room broke into a cheer, but Nerris backed away, looking pale and sick. She met his eyes again. What was he so upset about? She spoke the truth, and truth was the source of all healing.

  “What shall we do with him?” Falares stepped forward and pointed to Chalis.

  “The blood of the wicked will serve to send a message to all who oppose Eversor,” Meznas said. “My Eternal, give him to me, I beg you.”

  “No,” Qabala said. “Though he could not hurt me, he who would lay a hand upon the Aeterna forfeits his life. But it is the task of a Dume to carry out the law.” She looked at Nerris. “Nerris Palada, I would name you Dume-General. Do what must be done.”

  Nerris looked up at her. “Qabala, he is barely a boy. If you would truly wish to make a new world, then make it a merciful one.”

  Qabala’s eyes flashed. She did not know Nerris held such attachment to this soldier. Why would he defend a man who had been willing to kill his beloved? She accorded him a great honor. He owed her more than insolence. “This is an order from your Aeterna,” she said. “Do it now.”

  Several guards came forward and took Chalis from Rade’s grasp. They forced him forward on his knees, giving Nerris the perfect position to strike off this traitor’s head. Nerris rounded on her. “If you bear the love you say you do for me, for your country, for humanity, do not ask this. I will not condemn a man to death without even a trial.”

  “What need is there for a trial?” Qabala asked. “Every man here witnessed his attempt on my life. But as you wish.” She scanned the room. She could not ask Rade; he held attachment for this man as well. Lukas looked as if he might bolt from the room at any moment. Finally, her gaze fell on Falares. “Falares, come forward.”

  The big man’s eyes lit up and he went to a knee before Qabala. “My Eternal?”

  “I would raise you to the rank of Dume-General,” she said. “Will you accept by carrying out my will right here and now?”

  Tears streamed down the brutish bodyguard’s face. “I will, my Eternal. Thank you.” He drew his blade and approached the man.

  “You know the words of the Sentence?” she asked.

  Falares nodded. “Ever since I was a boy.” He pointed his blade at Chal
is’s defiant face. “I, Dume-General of the Order of Peacekeepers, constant watchman of the welfare of Yagolhan, bringer of justice and administrator of law within the realm, try you for sacrilege of the person of my Eternal, Queen Qabala Aeterna, and find you guilty. I hereby sentence you to death.”

  With a great overhand stroke, Falares separated Chalis’s head from his body. His neck spurted blood, spraying the men holding him with a crimson mist. Falares drew a rag from his pocket and wiped his sword clean before sheathing it and bowing once more before Qabala.

  “He was a good man,” Nerris said. “You could have spared him, won him over to your side. You didn’t need to do this. You say you wish to be all-powerful, yet you lash out like some petty child.”

  Qabala glanced at the faces of those around her. “Nerris, hush. We will speak on this later.”

  “We will speak on this now!” Nerris shouted. “You wish me to become your consort because I am a man of honor. There is nothing honorable about this.”

  “You would speak to me of honor?” Qabala hissed at him. “This, coming from one who stole into the walls of this very keep and slew a defenseless man? A word of advice, Nerris... do not use honor for your shield. You have nary enough to cover even your breast.”

  Nerris had nothing to say to that, and fixed her with a cold stare. Nobody else moved or spoke as the two kept their eyes locked. Finally, Nerris spoke. “You’re right.”

  He turned on his heel and marched for the doors. The guardsman looked uncertain if they should bar his way or not, but Nerris unsheathed his Miagamese blade, and the men at the door scrambled to get out of his way. His reputation still exceeded even the presence of an Aeterna, it would seem. She did not know whether that made her want to laugh or cry. Qabala let out her breath. Stubborn, stupid Thrillseeker.

  “You would let him defy you in front of your faithful, you who are now greater than he?” The Tattered Man spoke to her, his tone monotonous as ever, but his words conveyed enough of his meaning.

  Qabala closed her eyes, willing herself not to shed tears. She had stepped in it. She had gotten carried away, and now her true love was lost to her.

  “Despair will not serve. He will forgive you. You are the Aeterna, after all. Men will bend before your whims. But first, an example should be made.”

  Nerris had already left the hall, but Qabala strode down the dais and past the body of Chalis, which was pooling blood onto the floor. Officers and guards alike scrambled to get out of her way, and she knew what they were thinking. If she could survive a thrust to the belly without even a scratch to show for it, what other powers did she possess?

  Qabala marched down the entry hall, toward the doors which led to the bailey. Her heart despaired as she walked. She feared she had lost her chance at true happiness. Yet she was Aeterna now. The Doom Rock was within her, empowering her. There was nothing she could not do. She would apologize to Nerris later and make it all right, make him understand, but she had to do this to save face. He could still be hers. He should be hers. She would still have him!

  As she exited the great hall and stood upon the steps leading down to the bailey, she caught a glimpse of Nerris a few dozen paces away. His back was to her. “Where are you going?” she called.

  “To find where I left my honor,” Nerris answered. “It will not do to walk around with so small a shield, after all.”

  “Nerris,” she said, her voice shaking. “Please—”

  She reached out to him, and Nerris turned around. For the first time, she was sure he truly did care for her. She saw it in his eyes. She could tell he wanted to walk back to her, but something was stopping him.

  Qabala became aware of many voices behind her. All her men had come to see how this confrontation would turn out. Qabala righted herself, stood up straight and cleared her throat. “Guards!”

  A small company of guardsmen rushed past her and positioned themselves in front of Nerris. He shot her a look of disgust and turned toward the guards, brandishing his katana.

  “Don’t do it, Nerris,” came Rade’s voice. “Remember what I said to you. We can work this out.”

  “Sorry, Rade.” Nerris tightened his grip on Noruken’s hilt. “You stay and serve, if you must. I am a Thrillseeker, free to go where I will. And I will not play lapdog to the thing you have created.”

  Qabala’s anger finally got the best of her. “Take him!”

  Nerris had anticipated her order, and felled two of the guards before the others even had time to react. More men moved in, but Nerris moved sudden as lightning, beating back one man with a kick even as he slashed through the throat of another. The other guards grew fearful, and Nerris backed them down the bailey.

  That was when Rade rushed forward. Nerris heard him coming and met him blade for blade. They danced across the bailey, going stroke for stroke, until Falares and Lukas arrived. Nerris immediately went for the weakest one, and beat Lukas down to the earth in two swings of his blade. However, the others moved in and he barely managed to parry a massive blow from Falares. A moment later, Rade sent Nerris sprawling as he slammed the hilt of his sword into her love’s face. The guards were on top of him a moment later, and they disarmed him before pinning his hands behind his back.

  Qabala stepped forward as Falares saluted. “Let me strike off his head as well, my Eternal. I beg you for the honor.”

  “No,” Qabala said. “Place him in the dungeons. I will see to him later.”

  The guards dragged Nerris past her as they brought him back inside, and he looked up at her. “Whether you kill me or not, I will never touch you again, nor will I serve the foul beings you have taken up with.”

  “These foul beings will heal our world,” Qabala said. “And if they prove false, they will be dealt with.”

  Nerris sighed. “Still the little girl. Don’t you see? They want you to think you’re in control. That is how they get the hooks in.”

  The guards dragged him off, and Qabala felt the tears flow down her face. Rade placed his cloak around her bare shoulders, and for the first time she realized how cold it had turned. By morning, there would be frost on the ground.

  “You are Aeterna,” he whispered to her. “Do not let them see you weep. I will escort you to your chambers. Tears or blood, there has been enough shed this day already.”

  Chapter Ten

  NERRIS STRETCHED OUT on the hard bed inside his cell, trying his best to not be queasy. Underneath the Aeternica, it reeked of mildew and another putrid odor he could not quite place. He stared at the cracked ceiling, his mind going over various escape scenarios, each more unlikely than the next.

  He sighed. It was ridiculous of him to confront Qabala publicly the way he did. She was getting used to having her own way all the time, and she lashed out like a spoiled brat whenever someone defied her. Coupled with the fact that she now claimed the mantle of Aeterna, with a godstone giving her apparent invincibility, she grew more dangerous by the minute.

  He hadn’t helped matters any with the way he had acted. Poor Chalis was not the only one who lost his head in the great hall. Her callous treatment of the boy grated on Nerris. Chalis had been nothing but supportive of her cause, and risked life and limb to ensure her biggest rival fell beneath his blade. Yet he saw the political implications behind what she had done. It proved to everyone who stood witness that she would enforce her will on anyone who defied her, almost as if it had been set up that way. But though Chalis’s death upset him, that was not the sole reason Nerris had lashed out.

  A sense of foreboding had filled him during the ceremony, culminating when the black mist filtered into the hall. He was sure only he saw it, except for Rade and maybe Meznas and his cultists. Qabala had been concentrating on the Doom Rock, oblivious to it. For a moment, a mere moment, he had caught a glimpse of the cult’s Tattered Man standing behind her. The sight of the pale demon chilled him to the bone, not because of what it represented... but because Nerris had seen the gray figure before. In Miagama, three years ago.r />
  He knew if the Tattered Man was there, it meant Qabala was beyond his reach. She had been sucked deep into his power, manipulated by the Cult of Eversor. He could not stay and watch her deteriorate from a bright, charismatic leader to an insane tyrant who could probably rip a hole through half the world with the aid of the Doom Rock.

  He could almost hear Jhareth’s laughter echo in his mind. He knew exactly what his friend would say to him in this situation. “Nerris, when a woman with that kind of power tells you to do something, you say yes!” He could see his friend’s wry grin as well. “Besides, how many women out there are willing to bed you, much less a beautiful demigoddess?”

  For three years, Nerris had tried to push the Thrillseekers from his mind. Now that he lay here, with nothing to do but reflect, he found himself remembering their adventures across the continent of Tormalia. Their penchant for success through recklessness gave them their reputation in the early days. As time went on, they became folk legends, which were often embellished far beyond what they had actually accomplished. The three of them had been welcomed in royal courts and wayside inns alike wherever they went.

  How happy he had been back then. The company of his best friends and the wide open road before them. What else did he need? Nothing, he had thought, until he met Ketsuya.

  Tears welled up in Nerris’s eyes, and he pushed her from his mind at once. No. He had felt guilty enough about betraying her memory the first time he climbed under the covers with Qabala. He had come to care for her, in spite of everything. Maybe this was his punishment.

  Somewhere, a door creaked and the sound of boots upon stone echoed throughout the cell block. Nerris sat up, making his way to the stout door. Had Qabala come for him? The incident in the bailey may have turned out different if they had been alone. He had his doubts she really wanted him down here. But with the Tattered Man whispering in her ear... maybe she meant to give him to Meznas, to offer him up as sacrifice to whatever foul creature this Eversor was. Whether she meant to kiss or kill him, Nerris was ready.