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

by Nicholas Andrews

  Len-Ahl cried out in pain. “I do not know!”

  “Do you honestly expect me to believe you can’t read these runes?” she asked. “Perhaps you’ll be more forthcoming after you’ve guested in my dungeon.” She released Len-Ahl and gestured toward her. “Take her down to the dark cells, and put Masters Kanave and Schies in the surface block.”

  The guards moved in and led Len-Ahl, Dist and Jhareth away. Lukas cast a sidelong glance at Nerris. “What should we do with Nerris, my Eternal?”

  “Confine him to my chambers,” she said. “Draw him a bath and give him a razor so he can make himself presentable. I will join him shortly.”

  Her men led Nerris out of the great hall. When they were in the corridors, he caught one last glimpse of Len-Ahl before they were herded in opposite directions. The look of despair on her face wrenched his heart, but a guard pushed him around a corner and she disappeared from sight. Nerris vowed she, Dist, and Jhareth would not remain prisoners for long. If Qabala wanted to play nice with him, he would play whatever part was necessary. As long as it got them away from this cesspit.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  SEVERAL GUARDS ESCORTED Nerris to Qabala’s chambers in the royal keep. They deposited him in King Lahnen’s old bedchamber, the very room where Nerris had taken his life. Qabala had replaced the furniture once again, he noted. A new dressing table with a large, round mirror stood against the far wall, close to the bath chamber. A four-poster bed with a purple canopy stood nearby, and a matching divan had been set against the far wall.

  Nerris looked himself over in the mirror. Weeks of single meals of gruel had stripped some of the flesh from his face and body. Unkempt was perhaps the nicest way to describe his hair. A full beard had sprouted on his face, and there were bags under his eyes. Everything ached, and he spent some time pacing around the room and stretching his muscles to work out the soreness.

  A few minutes later, the door opened and a small, blonde girl entered, carrying a pail of steaming water.

  “Meeka?” Nerris asked.

  The slave’s eyes met his, and she nearly dropped her pail in surprise. Setting it down on the floor, she rushed to Nerris and embraced him. “Nerris! What are you doing here?”

  “It’s good to see you,” Nerris said. “I’m currently enjoying Yagol hospitality, as you can see by my current state.”

  Meeka released him and looked him over. “My Eternal said I was to draw a bath for her guest, but I had no idea... Nerris, what have they done to you?”

  “I’m all right,” Nerris assured her. “How are you doing? Is Qabala treating you well?”

  Meeka bowed her head. “My Eternal does me great honor allowing me to attend her. I try to please, but she has her spells of fury.”

  “I remember,” Nerris said. “Last time I was here, she threw me in the dungeon.”

  Meeka shook her head. “How silly of me. I have work to do. Please excuse me, Nerris.”

  Nerris let Meeka continue to fill the tub within the bath chamber as he picked up the razor on the dressing table. He shaved the hair on his neck and cheeks, and used the scissors to trim his beard. When Meeka left, he stripped off his dirty clothes and climbed into the tub, basking in his first good soak in weeks. He made sure to take his time, scrubbing his skin until it turned raw and soaping his hair to wash the grime out. By the time he climbed out of the tub, the clear bathwater had turned a murky brown.

  He opened the door to the bedchamber to find Meeka had left a new set of clothes for him and taken his old things away. He put on the white silk shirt and dark knee breeches and returned to the dressing table, where he combed the tangles out of his thick, brown hair.

  Perhaps an hour later the door opened, and Qabala entered. Nerris stood from the divan to greet her, and she smiled at him. “Nerris. I see you’re going to be civilized about this.”

  “What choice do I have?” he asked. “I am in your power, my Eternal.” He gave her an ostentatious bow.

  Qabala giggled. “You look much better now, like I remember you.” She took off her tiara and set it on the dressing table. “I have missed you so, my love. You have no idea how much.”

  Nerris approached her. “I have to say I’m surprised, given that the last time I was in the Aeternica I was being dragged off by your soldiers.”

  Qabala sighed. “I regretted that decision as soon as I made it. I was caught up in the moment, Nerris. I had been consecrated Aeterna, that boy had tried to kill me, and we publicly quarreled. I am so sorry.”

  She threw her arms around Nerris and buried her head in his chest, but he disentangled himself from her. “Is that why you sent your dogs after me and my friends? You wanted to apologize?”

  “I want what I’ve always wanted,” she said. “You at my side, ruling Yagolhan beside me, helping me find the Exemplus. How deliciously ironic is it that the first treasure of the Xenea Dolchin was in my own kingdom, right under my nose? It is fate which brought you and the Thrillseekers here.”

  “I’ve been hearing a lot about fate and destiny recently,” Nerris said. “If you wanted our help, why didn’t you ask for it instead of dragging us here like animals?”

  “I was afraid you hated me for what I did.” Qabala’s voice grew small, and reminded Nerris of the vulnerability lurking underneath her hard façade. “I wanted the chance to make amends. I didn’t mean for Falares and Lukas to take it as far as they did.”

  “Qabala, I never hated you,” Nerris said. “I hated what you were doing to yourself, to your kingdom, what you planned to do to the world. I warned you about the Cult of Eversor months ago, and yet when I came through the city, I see them more prevalent than ever. Why can’t you see the ruin this is leading to?”

  “When I have the Exemplus, Eversor will be bent to my will,” she said. “The Deinovi fled this world at the prospect of one godstone. With two, I can end all suffering.”

  “That is not something one person can do, no matter how much power they think they have.” Nerris shook his head. “Qabala, I’m tired, my entire body aches, and my friends are rotting in your dungeon. Tell me what you would have of me and be done with it.”

  “I want the Thrillseekers to help me find the Exemplus,” she said. “You have already stepped foot onto the Xenea Dolchin and I wish for you, Jhareth, and Dist to lead me to the Elemental Stone.”

  “And what about Len-Ahl?”

  “The girl?” Qabala’s mouth curled. “Is it true, then? Are you keeping company with that scrawny nymph?”

  “What?” Nerris asked. “No, it is not like that between us. She is my friend, like Dist and Jhareth. I swear, Qabala, if you harm her or let that animal Falares touch her—”

  “She will be safe enough,” Qabala said. “Dist and Jhareth will be released, as long as they promise to help me. But the girl is dangerous. She will stay where she is until I have the Exemplus.”

  “How do you even know about that?”

  “As I said, I hold prisoner a Nateus of the earth clerics,” she said. “The Nateii have been waiting for the Stonechaser for eons, and have studied the original Stonechaser Prophecy. Unfortunately for them, their order is all but gone and they cannot lend the Stonechaser any of their power. For years, I thought I was to be the Stonechaser. When Dume Yorne told me you were the Catalyst, that seemed to confirm it. Then this girl comes along. I will not give up my destiny, Nerris, prophecy or no.”

  “Then I refuse,” Nerris said. “Len-Ahl has a destiny as well, and she must fulfill it so we can rid the world of abominations like Eversor.”

  “Eversor is a means to an end,” Qabala said. “He will help me do what the Deinovi, the Ancient Gods, and even Queen Angelica could never do.”

  “Why is it you feel the world needs saving?” Nerris asked. “The things you seek to rid us of are some of the very things which make us human. Suppose you do fulfill your alleged destiny. What will we be in your new world?”

  “Better.” Qabala moved closer to him. “If you could only see tha
t, Nerris.”

  “All I see is someone I once cared for taken in by some cosmic con artist. You get nothing from me until you make your intentions clear concerning Len-Ahl.”

  “Nerris, you once loved me,” Qabala said, putting her hand on his arm. “Why do you choose this girl over us?”

  He broke her grip and caught her by the wrists. “Whatever I felt for you died last autumn,” he said.

  “That’s not true and you know it.” Qabala rushed forward and threw her arms around Nerris. Her charge caught him off balance, and they fell onto the wide bed. Before he could protest, her lips met his and Nerris felt her sweet kiss for the first time in seven months. He could feel himself stiffening, and Qabala straddled his body, opening her robe to reveal her breasts. Her hand went to Nerris’s breeches, feeling within.

  “No, Qabala,” Nerris said. “This cannot happen. Not anymore.”

  “Are you going to tell me you love that mousy slattern in the dungeon?” Qabala asked. “Of course you couldn’t. We are both warriors, Nerris, not mice. Who do you belong with, if not me?”

  Nerris could not answer that. Before Qabala, he had not made love with a woman since Ketsuya. Yet he could not bring himself to pursue Len-Ahl, even though he cared for her deeply. The only woman who had aroused his passions this way in the past three years had been Qabala.

  She kissed him again, and Nerris kissed her back this time, in spite of himself. He could feel those passions welling up again, and he seemed to be powerless to stop them. He slipped his hands inside her underclothes, and Qabala moaned with pleasure.

  “That’s it,” she gasped. “Let go of all your worries, Nerris. It is just the two of us right here, right now. And that’s all it will ever be. That simple.”

  The night which followed was the most pleasurable Nerris had ever experienced. They never strayed far from the bed, except when it grew dark and Qabala lit scented candles. They made love in a half-dozen different ways, and dozed in each other’s arms in between. It was not until Nerris awakened the next morning that the guilt set in.

  As he watched the rays of sunlight creep in through the narrow windows, he wondered at what point he had lost control. He meant to gauge her intentions concerning his friends, but he found himself enjoying the comforts of quilts and a down-filled mattress, while they slept on straw pallets in the dungeon. He enjoyed the comforts of a beautiful queen, while they slept alone.

  Thinking of Len-Ahl made him feel even worse. He knew she had feelings for him, and he had attempted to protect her by putting a wall between them. If she knew of this, it would devastate her.

  Meeka brought them breakfast on a silver tray as he and Qabala cuddled under the coverlets. They nibbled on eggs and bread as the handmaiden poured water into a goblet for Nerris. Nerris smiled and thanked her, and Qabala did the same, much to his surprise.

  “Wine,” Qabala commanded when Meeka went to fill her own goblet. The slave girl bowed her head and poured a red wine into the goblet from a pitcher.

  “Isn’t it a little early for wine?” Nerris asked.

  “We must celebrate,” Qabala said, dismissing Meeka with a wave. The girl bowed and left, shutting the door behind her. “Everything is looking better now that you’re here, Nerris.”

  “What has been happening?” Nerris asked. “I’ve been away so long. Have you defeated Prince Lahnel yet?”

  “You have a beautiful woman in bed with you and you want to discuss politics?”

  Nerris shrugged. “We’ve been on the road for a while. I’d like to know what’s going on in the world.”

  “Well, Lahnel is still hiding in the mountains,” Qabala said. “He knows them well and has managed to rebuff most of our forces, so the war is now at a standstill until we can find some kind of foothold. I’ve been sending the cultists to the front line to lead the charge of every battle, but he’s been killing them by the thousands.”

  “I think I will drink to that,” Nerris said, reaching for her goblet.

  “No!” Qabala swatted the goblet out of his hand and it flew across the room, spraying wine in every direction. “You must never do that!”

  “What has gotten into you?” Nerris asked, shocked at her outburst.

  She met his gaze. “Nerris, listen. You must never drink after me or touch any liquid I touch. Is that understood?”

  “Why?”

  “Shortly after you left, I feasted my men in the great hall and left my wine unfinished,” she said. “It was a rare vintage, and a servant on cleanup duty decided to have a taste after the feast was over. Moments later he collapsed to the floor, stone dead.”

  “A poisoner?” Nerris asked.

  “That is what we thought at first,” Qabala said. “Until I saw the spot where they had been disposing of my old bathwater. It was a grassy area, always lush and healthy, but the spot where they dumped my bathwater was brown and dead.” She placed a hand on her midsection. “It’s the Doom Rock. It turns any liquid I touch into a fatal poison.”

  Nerris’s hand went to his own lips, but Qabala laughed.

  “Relax, Nerris. There is not enough saliva in our bodies to make our kisses fatal.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I considered that possibility.” Qabala smiled. “I bestowed a few kisses upon the lips of a few subjects in preparing for your arrival. Slaves that no one would miss. All of them are hale and hearty as ever.”

  “How can you stand having that thing in you?” Nerris asked. “Is the power really worth it?”

  “All power comes with a price,” Qabala said. “Those such as me are willing to pay it. That is how you tell the strong from the weak.”

  Nerris shook his head and ate. She held the narrow view of the young. He had experienced too much to not realize when dealing with concepts like strong and weak, nothing was absolute. He never quite understood those who ever yearned for greater power. From what he could see, it was a trap which promised happiness and delivered destruction. Did that make him weak?

  Qabala nuzzled against his neck. “There are other perks the Doom Rock has gifted to me. Acute senses, better reflexes, greater strength.” She flashed him an impish smile. “As well as heightened lovemaking.”

  “I cannot argue the last,” Nerris said, and he meant it. No other night he ever spent with a woman had been so wild, so euphoric. Not even Ketsuya. However, euphoria did not necessarily equate to love.

  The comment pleased Qabala. She climbed on top of him once again, knocking the breakfast tray to the floor. She kissed Nerris long and deep, and leaned close to his ear. “I can still do better.”

  “We can’t lie here all day,” Nerris said.

  “Why not?” Qabala said. “I’m the Aeterna, but my country can run itself for a day. One day, is that too much to ask? Just one day for you and me.”

  She said it frivolously, without a care for her title or ideals. She was not Queen Qabala Aeterna, but Qabala of Verchak, a simple village girl with a simple goal. At that moment, he was able to define the duality of his feelings for her. This was the real Qabala: strong-willed, passionate, caring, and more than a bit stubborn. What she had been built up to as the Aeterna was a mere shell. If he could find some way to break her out of that shell, maybe he could bring himself to return her love in true.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  QABALA WASTED NO time integrating Nerris back into life in the Aeternica. She announced a banquet to celebrate his return, with strong hints that she planned to announce their engagement at the festivities. She was busy, both with preparations and the day-to-day routine of a ruler, and barely saw her during daylight hours. He was escorted to her chambers every evening, where she would jump into his arms as soon as she could get out of her clothes.

  He had his freedom of the red-brick palace as long as he agreed not to leave the grounds. Even so, he sometimes caught Falares, Lukas, or one of their lieutenants dogging his steps. Though she could be reasonably sure Nerris was not going to leave without his friends, Qa
bala wasn’t taking any chances. Nerris did manage to convince her Dist’s leg was in need of attention, and she sent Meeka to the dungeons to tend to him.

  “Bed slave is but one of Meeka’s talents,” she told him. “She was trained in the healing arts by a graduate of Gauntlet, and often tended the wounds and ailments of those in Lord Kelke’s household. She is a fine prize for a slave.”

  Nerris thanked her for that, and Meeka as well, biting his tongue on the matter of slavery for once. Nerris’s own wound had almost disappeared, but for a forming scar across his shoulder. The pain had all but faded, and the sustenance of real food allowed him to lose some of the gauntness he had acquired during his hellish ride to Palehorse. All in all, he was beginning to feel normal again.

  As soon as his energy returned, he found himself in the yard of the Aeternica practicing his swordsmanship against a gaggle of young recruits eager to trade strokes with a Thrillseeker. It had been a while since he utilized a longsword, but quickly grew accustomed to the extra weight he did not have to suffer whilst wielding Noruken.

  “You may have your katana back when our engagement is official,” Qabala told him in bed one night. “Keep up this good behavior and I may even release your friends, with a full apology of course.”

  “Even Len-Ahl?” he asked.

  She slapped him on the chest. “Do not mention that girl. Not here. She has information I need.”

  “And when you get it you will release her?”

  “Yes, yes. If that will make you happy, my love.”

  After that exchange, he spent a good portion of the night proving he did not harbor any romantic feelings for Len-Ahl. Qabala had an insecurity where the half-faery was concerned, and their lovemaking temporarily alleviated those fears. Nerris spent a considerable amount of time whispering clichés from love poems in her ear as he thrust in and out of her, often wondering if he truly meant it or not.