It wasn’t until they reached the large feasting hall that there was enough room for Tiberius to extend the ring of fire. Tiberius, Rafe, and the soldiers with them were dripping with sweat from the heat of the magical fire. Tiberius led the group to the center of the room, which was quickly filling with soldiers and even some servants. Tiberius guessed there were at least two hundred men at arms; most were men from the earl’s war band, but a few were the earl’s guard, and still others were men from the king’s army who had come to Avondale with Brutas.
Tiberius widened his circle of magical fire then let the blaze die down until they were little more than candle flames. His own warriors had stepped back with Rafe, standing behind Tiberius, who stepped forward and raised his hands peacefully.
“Men of Avondale!” Tiberius said in a loud voice. “You know me. I am Tiberius Ageusson. For years you have served my father. Why do you turn against him now?”
“We won’t listen to a wizard!” shouted one of the king’s soldiers.
“Brutas is the new earl,” shouted another. “By order of King Leonosis.”
“There is no need to fight,” Tiberius said loudly. “My father is still Earl of Avondale—not even the king can remove him without a proper hearing. He is outside, healthy, and capable of leading the army waiting with him to retake his palace. You’ll all be killed if you fight. That is not what we want.”
“Do you deny that you’re a wizard?” asked one of the men from the earl’s war band.
“No,” Tiberius said. “I don’t deny it. That is one of the reasons I left Avondale when Rafe was wrongfully banished. I did not wish to stay and put anyone in our city at risk. But I have learned much and I know that magic was once used for good. It shall be again.”
“Tiberius,” came a voice that Ti knew all to well. His brother came in from a side room, surrounded by a group of the king’s soldiers, all with weapons drawn. The men in the feasting hall moved aside for the young noble.
“The disgraced son of Avondale has returned,” Brutas said in a mocking tone. “And now you call yourself a wizard. Banishment wasn’t shameful enough—you had to try and break Valana’s most sacred law?”
“I use my power to help people,” Tiberius said.
“Your power?” Brutas said skeptically. “I say it is nothing more than parlor tricks.”
The men around Brutas spread out, so that now the feasting hall was ringed by soldiers watching the confrontation taking place in the center of the room. Tiberius stood facing Brutas, their respective bands of warriors spread out behind them, weapons held ready.
“You don’t know me, Brutas,” Tiberius said. “Please stand down and let us find a peaceful resolution to this misunderstanding.”
“There is no misunderstanding,” Brutas said. “Our father is a traitor, attempting to wrest control of Avondale from its rightful earl. You are a condemned man, wanted in all nine cities for the crime of wizardry. And that dog behind you shall be put down for returning to Avondale after being duly and justly banished.”
“Brutas, be reasonable. You must see that we want only what is best for our father and for Avondale.”
“Throw down your weapons,” Brutas said, doing his best to imitate Leonosis’ imperial tone of voice. “Surrender yourself to me, and I will spare your lives.”
“You know we aren’t going to do that,” Tiberius said, the ring of flames suddenly dancing a little higher.
“You think I am defenseless,” Brutas said. “You think I am a usurper, but I have the king’s seal of approval, and he has prepared me for your treachery.”
Brutas held up his hand, and in it was the Balestone. Tiberius felt a pulse of magical power, almost as if he had been slapped in the face. The magic of the small stone was immense, and it had quickly bonded with Brutas’ lust for power.
“Put that down, Brutas. You don’t know what it is,” Tiberius warned.
“The king,” Brutas shouted now, speaking to the soldiers in the great hall, “gave me this talisman to protect us from wizardry. Do not be afraid. In Spartan Citadel, King Leonosis has dispatched every resource available to snuff out my brother’s crimes. Magic shall never again wreak havoc in Valana. It will be stamped out anywhere and everywhere it raises its ugly head. Even if it happens to be within the king’s own family.”
“Brutas, that stone is evil. Cast it away and save yourself.”
“Don’t try to trick us with your lies, wizard,” Brutas spat. “You’ve had your chance to surrender. Now we will put you down like the dog you are.”
“No, Brutas,” Tiberius said.
“Soldiers!” Brutas said in a voice that Tiberius could sense was suddenly laced with magic. “Kill him.”
The king’s soldiers started forward slowly, passing Brutas, who still held the stone. Tiberius let his magical ring of fire roar back to life. He was just about to conjure the flaming whip again when he heard a quavering breath behind him. Tiberius started to turn, but a blade stabbed into his back, making his body arch in agony. He heard his own scream, like that of a wild animal, as he fell. The magical fire winked out of existence, and the room grew dark.
Tiberius landed on his side, his body jerking involuntarily from the pain. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rafe, standing nearby; his face seemed frozen and his eyes glassy. Blood dripped from the blade of his dagger, and Tiberius realized his best friend had stabbed him. Then everything went black.
Chapter 29
Rafe
Rafe’s body was trembling. His mind was raging, but his body was held fixed by something he couldn’t see or fight. He had just stabbed his best friend in the world, and no matter what Rafe tried to do, he couldn’t stop himself.
“Noooooo,” came a shout as Tiberius fell to the floor.
Rafe was having trouble comprehending all that was going on, but he saw Robere, Tiberius’ old servant, come rushing to Ti’s side. The old man pulled his own tunic off and pressed it hard against Tiberius’ wound. He was crying and shouting.
“Someone, help us!” the old man bellowed. “Bring a healer, quick! We can’t let the earl’s son die!”
“Get them both out of my sight,” Brutas snarled.
Rafe watched helplessly as a group of the earl’s guard hurried forward. Robere was pulled away from Tiberius’ body while the rest of the guards hefted the limp and bleeding wizard off the floor. Blood was still dripping from the wound Rafe inflicted on his friend, but there was nothing the young warrior could do to help him. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t regain control of his body. Tears rolled down Rafe’s face, but he couldn’t even turn his head to watch as the guards carried Tiberius away.
“And now you,” Brutas said, stepping over the puddle of blood on the floor. “What shall we do with Rafe Grentzson?”
He was speaking quietly, and the crowd was still in shock, standing around the edges of the vast hall.
“You know,” Brutas said in a low voice that only he and Rafe could hear. “I was never really excited by marrying the whore from Hamill Keep, but we all have to do our duty. I’ll make sure she’s properly broken in, then I’ll let my men have a go at her. And when we’re through, I’ll see to it that she’s thrown out of the city walls like the tramp she is. You see, I can’t allow the insult to stand. You’re nothing—just a soldier, barely more than a slave, really. It wouldn’t look right if I didn’t punish you for your impudence. I am the Earl of Avondale, after all.”
“Lord, what shall we do with him?” asked one of the king’s soldiers who had come up beside Rafe.
“I think a public execution is called for. He’s twice a traitor,” Brutas said. “Hang him by his feet from the palace walls so that the entire city can see him. A day or two of that, and he’ll be begging us to kill him.”
“What about your father? He has troops outside.”
“Yes, I’ll see to that as well, once you’ve taken out the garbage.”
“My pleasure, my lord,” the soldier said with a sneer.
Rafe wanted to scream at Brutas. He wanted to draw his sword and hack the hulking noble into bloody pieces, but he couldn’t move.
“Let’s go,” the soldier shoved Rafe.
His body responded, moving away from Brutas, but Rafe had no control of himself. Two more soldiers tied his hands behind his back and then practically carried him from the feasting hall. The further Rafe moved from Brutas, the more he felt like himself. When they were out of the feasting hall, Rafe finally regained control of his body. He attacked suddenly, smashing his forehead into the nearest soldier’s nose and throwing his shoulder into the man. But the other soldier grabbed Rafe’s throat, pulling him backward.
The beating that followed was merciless. The soldiers punched and kicked Rafe until he couldn’t move. He was barely conscious as they carried him back up to the roof of the palace. Thick ropes were tied around his feet after his boots had been removed. His hands were untied from behind his back then tied together again in front of him. A heavy stone block was tied to his hands, as well, then Rafe was shoved over the wall.
For a moment he thought he was going to fall to his death, and Rafe welcomed it. He was in so much mental agony from knowing that he had struck down his best friend, probably killing him, that Rafe wanted to die. He had several broken ribs, along with a broken nose and several cuts from the beating he’d received, but his physical pain was dwarfed by his mental suffering.
The ropes around his feet kept Rafe from falling to his death. The ropes pulled tight and then Rafe was slammed into the stone wall of the palace. The block of stone pulled his arms down over his head and made his busted ribs ache so badly Rafe passed out.
He had no idea how long he was unconscious, but when Rafe woke up, he had to force his eyelids apart. Blood had run down and caked his eyelids shut. The city seemed to sway in his vision, and his head was pounding from too much blood having rushed into his skull from hanging upside down. Vomit came spilling out of his mouth and flooded his nose, which was swollen. The bile burned the tender flesh of his nasal passages, but there was nothing Rafe could do.
Normally, he would have been strong enough to flex upward, take hold of the rope at his ankles, and perhaps even pull himself back up to the roof. But the heavy block of stone made that impossible, even if his ribs hadn’t been broken. He hung upside down for a long time, watching the birds circling in the sky, which was now below his bare feet.
He could also see crowds of people pointing up at him. Their mocking laughter seemed far away and almost unreal. Rafe knew he was dying. It was hard to breathe, and if Brutas left him there, he would die a slow, painful death. But Rafe knew Brutas wasn’t finished with him. Olyva had been betrothed to Brutas when she had fallen in love with Rafe. Their declaration of love was an insult to Brutas, and now he planned to take his wounded pride out on Rafe. He could live with that. He wanted to die, but he hoped that Olyva and Lexi were able to escape the city. Brutas’ taunting threat toward Olyva still rang in Rafe’s ears, but there was nothing he could do about it. If he struggled, he would only cause himself more pain and possibly more injury. Instead he focused on breathing, letting his body rest as much as was possible while hanging upside down and being stretched by a heavy block of stone.
He would save his strength and use it when the chance presented itself for Rafe to kill Brutas. He knew the cocky noble wouldn’t be able to resist rubbing a little more salt in Rafe’s wounds. He would come close to Rafe, jeering at his pain, insulting Rafe’s pride, and mocking their failed attempt to defeat Brutas. When that happened, Rafe promised himself he would find a way to kill the bastard. He would die in the process, but he would take Brutas with him. He swore that much to himself as he hung dangling from the side of palace. And it was the bitter pill of revenge that brought him peace. His swollen lips, split in several places and caked with blood, pulled back in a wicked smile as Rafe planned his final act of vengeance.
Chapter 30
Olyva
The war ship was just swooping down to drop off Lexi and Olyva when Rafe was dragged out onto the roof. The girls, along with the soldiers flying the ship, watched in horror as Rafe’s body was tied and then tossed over the edge of the palace roof. The soldiers laughed and pointed at the war ship, mocking them and promising to finish with them soon.
Olyva felt her world spinning out of control. She wanted to rush to Rafe’s aide, but the soldiers refused to land the war ship on the palace roof or to swing low enough that Olyva and Lexi could climb down. It was too risky, they said. They promised that Earl Ageus would lead his war band into the palace and rescue Rafe, but as they approached the tall watchtower, they could see the men Earl Ageus had positioned around the palace laying down their weapons.
“What are they doing?” Olyva said angrily.
“Surrendering,” Lexi said in a small voice.
“They can’t,” Olyva said. “Why would they? They didn’t even try to fight.”
“Something must have happened,” Lexi said.
“We have to find out.”
“We will, but we can’t just go charging into the palace. If Rafe and Tiberius have been captured, then whoever is in charge will be looking for us soon. We need to disappear.”
“We can take the ship, go below the mists,” Olyva suggested.
“No, that will take too long, and we won’t be able to come back without being seen. We have a better chance of escaping into the city.”
“You think hiding will be easier in the city?”
“I know it will,” Lexi said. “Just keep up with me.”
Once the ship was secured to the watchtower, Lexi and Olyva hurried down. Olyva was scared. She knew she stood out among the crowds in Avondale, but Lexi was so confident that she hurried along after the smaller girl. In the military section of the city, things were tense, but no one stopped them. Once they were in the city proper, everything seemed normal. Lexi led her through a marketplace and then down several levels. They were almost to the fields where Avondale’s ample food supply was grown, and Olyva felt a strong compulsion to tread across the open fields and feel the dirt beneath her toes, but Lexi pulled her into a small home instead.
“Where are we?” Olyva asked.
“In a friends house,” Lexi said, watching out the ragged hole in the wall that served as a window.
“Won’t they be upset that you broke in?” Olyva asked.
“No, this room is just a front. The real residence is back there and well secured.”
“How do you know this person?” Olyva asked.
“It’s a long story.”
“Shouldn’t we be finding a way into the palace?”
“There are soldiers all over the palace right now,” Lexi said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“But you saw Rafe hanging from the wall. We have to do something.”
“I know,” Lexi said. “I just need some time to figure out how we can help.”
Time seemed to drag on forever to Olyva. Being indoors on a beautiful, sunny day was hard enough, but knowing that Rafe needed her help was even harder.
“We should probably wait until sundown,” Lexi said.
“No,” Olyva said. “I’m too weak after sunset. I won’t be able to help you.”
“I was thinking it might be better if I go alone,” the smaller girl said. “I know what I’m doing—I won’t get caught. But I’m not used to worrying about someone else.”
“No,” Olyva insisted. “We stay together, and we free Rafe together. We’ll find Tiberius and do what we need to do to get out of the city.”
“Fine,” Lexi said. “But if we’re going into the palace in broad daylight, we need disguises. I can find us a cloak and maybe something to cover your feet, but that won’t make us blend in.”
“Cloaks won’t do,” Olyva said. “If we want to blend in at court, we need dresses.”
Lexi looked at Olyva as if she had lost her mind.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Olyva insisted. “You
have many skills, but I know a thing or two about life in the earl’s palace. We need formal gowns. I’m sure we can find one long enough to hide my feet, but your short hair will be out of place.”
“Maybe you should go and I should stay here,” Lexi said with a frown.
“We need to find a tailor,” Olyva said. “Someone who does work for the city officials. There are several on the higher levels.”
“We don’t have any coin,” Lexi said. “I don’t think they’ll sell us dresses on credit.”
“No, they won’t,” Olyva said. “That’s why I’m going to distract them, and you’re going to steal us two dresses. And a wig for yourself if you find one.”
“A wig?”
“Yes, try to find something that matches your natural color.”
They moved back through the city cautiously, listening for any word of what was happening in the palace. People seemed to be celebrating all through the lower levels of the city. Rumors of a conflict in the palace were encouraged by the sight of Rafe hanging from the high wall. As they moved up toward the more affluent section of Avondale, the populace grew more nervous. There were rumors flying around that Earl Ageus had been captured and was being treated like a common criminal.
A few people gave Olyva strange looks they worked their way back up to the broad high street where the most exclusive shops and markets were. Olyva was taller than she had been, but not abnormally tall. Her thin body was mostly covered by the dress she wore, and her arms were covered with a threadbare shaw that Lexi had found in the house where they had hidden. It was Olyva’s feet that drew the most attention. They were larger than normal, brown with rough, scaly skin that looked almost like tree bark. Her toes were easily twice as long as normal and pointed. They looked like tree roots, but most of the people in the city didn’t notice. The dark color of her feet contrasted with her golden skin, which was tanned by hours spent soaking up the sunlight. Most people who saw her feet just assumed she was wearing some kind of strange shoe.
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