"Syrus, look out!"
He instinctively turned to Valda, but felt the heat gathering at his back.
Whipping about, the dragon sat triumphantly atop the smoldering Minotaur and its mouth hung open as it turned to him. Their air rippled with heat, and Syrus watched its gullet expand.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Lethos felt the demon's agony. It all happened in some other place. Was this how the demon felt when he was suffering? The dragon had bested him now, riding him down to the ground and tearing up his flesh like an old wool cloak. The fire had not done much more than burn away fur and singe patches of skin. Lethos and his Minotaur demon were losing the fight in the traditional manner, being ripped to shreds.
Avulash's dragon head swiveled to the left, and Lethos wondered what had distracted him. He had not tried to control the demon yet, but seeing how it was nearly dead, he thought it best to try. At his command, the Minotaur followed the dragon's gaze.
Lethos let out a roar of fear and fury.
Syrus was backed up against the wild stone, frantically turning a wheel that lowered the lid on the contraption that contained it. Valda lay against the wall behind him, her leg shattered and her face white with shock and fear.
Avulash was firing up another roasting gout of flames, and neither of his friends would survive.
Valda had lived after all, and so had Syrus. They had persevered despite everything thrown at them, and yet they had not one tenth the power that he possessed.
Shame flooded him, and hatred for Avulash rose with the tide of fury growing in him.
Without thinking, he was in control now. The demon held its form but its will was diminished. With a lightning strike, he seized the dragon's neck and yanked it back.
Fire spewed skyward and both Valda and Syrus shrieked. Yet the fire burned out harmlessly in the gray sky.
Now he was wrestling to control the dragon, yet Avulash managed to extract his head from Lethos's talon. A sprinkle of scales clattered down as he broke free. The dragon's voice was cruel and hissing.
"You are moved by your friends' sacrifices. Fool!"
Avulash again turned to breathe his fire, and Lethos punched the dragon's long throat to little avail.
However, Syrus had never stopped turning the wheel. The lid was nearly closed.
In that last moment, Valda hopped on her good leg and threw herself across the lid to slam it shut.
Something broke free in Lethos. The radiance that the demon had to absorb for him abated. His healing powers rushed back.
He roared in delight.
Avulash screamed, and suddenly the weight of the dragon pressing him lightened. He was shrinking.
He became Avulash the Tsal captain once more.
Lethos had him in both talons now, and shot to his feet as his injuries healed. The strength he experienced was as heady as any drug. He could have torn the world asunder if he could only get his arms around it.
"Nothing you do matters," Avulash yelled, his face twisted with hatred. "Kill me, but my king and my people will come. You are doomed, but I will be remembered forever!"
"I will kill you, little bug." The voice was deep and resonant--and his own. "And it will give me great pleasure."
He freed the beast within.
It tore Avulash apart like a child pulls the wings from a moth. Arms and legs tore away with ease, and blood sprayed out across the gray stone floor. The Minotaur stood and slammed its heavy hoof down on the Tsal captain until nothing more than a paste remained.
But it was not satisfied.
It turned to Valda and Syrus, and for a brief moment Lethos was ready to rip into them. But he turned aside the thought. He was in control, not the beast.
With nothing to fight, he turned his rage on the bronze clam shell. He began to smash and beat it, until he realized if it broke open again he would be at its mercy. So he roared frustration, then hefted the entire clamshell over his head.
Syrus was screaming at him, probably warning him to be careful.
Lethos whirled around again and again, then flung the clamshell far out of the mountains. With his unnatural strength amplified by the demon's full fury, he could have thrown it into the sun. Instead, he hurled the wild stone away into the distance, out past the cliffs and into the sea.
He stood for a moment, chest heaving as his body repaired. Then he looked down at both Syrus and Valda, who lay on the floor exhausted from their efforts.
With a thought he banished the demon, and it obeyed. The fury slithered away into the darkness of his soul, and Lethos found himself at eye level with the tower walls.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Lethos wished he had a way to confer his healing powers on others. He had returned to Brunholm and was living in Blund's newly repaired hall once more. Both Valda and Syrus were recuperating from their ordeals, with Valda in the room where Grimwold had been laid out. Her leg would heal in time, but the bone had to be reset. She had endured the pain resolutely, and that plus her bravery in the face of the Tsal incursion had made her a heroine to Blund and his people.
Standing outside the hall in the early morning, he watched the sun rise over the village. The rose-colored stains of dawn and the crisp air reminded him of a similar morning not long ago when his predictive senses warned him to go to the beach. He hadn't been wrong about the danger he found there.
Like that day, his senses tingled again this morning, and he stood straighter as roosters greeted the dawn. It was not the icy water along his back, but a gentle nudge in his mind.
It was Grimwold.
You're probably mad at me. I don't blame you. But I have the sword and am coming back now. You might want to get Valda ready.
Lethos had no words to express his anger, and his thoughts did no better than rush through him in a tangled mess. He tried something that reminded him of his mother scolding his father after a night of drinking with friends.
Do you even know what I've been through? I almost died. But I guess you wouldn't know that, would you?
That definitely sounded like his mother. He would have to do better.
A feeling of regret and sadness touched Lethos's mind, and Grimwold's voice was contrite. I know what you have done. You are greater than me, my friend. I am truly humbled by all that you have become. In time, you will understand why I had to go. Just try to support me on my return. I will be there soon.
Lethos was ready to try the sterner approach of his father, but Grimwold softly closed the door on their mental contact. He was left watching the villagers exiting their homes and stretching in the morning air. Typical of barbarian farmers, if there was nothing burning down their homes, then they were placid and content people. Occasionally the young ones got worked up enough to jump in a ship and go ruin some other village's day. Yet on the whole, they were a fine people. He was glad to see Brunholm at peace with the world.
The rest of Valahur could not say the same. Norddalr had truly been destroyed. If anyone had lived on that island, it was not obvious from the ship. Of course, Syrus had been directing his crew of Valda and himself as they had sailed past the now mist-free coasts. They would send ships back to search, but it did not seem likely survivors existed. The strange Tsal slaves had all died along with their master and the destruction of the wild stone. They covered Norddalr with their corpses, and Lethos did not doubt if one counted their bodies it would match the original population of the island.
Finnmogur, the island where Blund now claimed himself as war chief, was half-ravaged by the Tsal. Brunholm was the new center of power with the death of Harald Redfingers. The southern half of the island had been nearly depopulated. It did not help when he delivered the corpses of the ship's original crew back to their families. Their bloodless corpses spoke to the horrors of their final moments and reminded everyone of what might yet come.
Other islands were still suffering from the war of the trolls the year before. Lethos wondered how long before Avadur swept up the shattered bits of i
ts neighbor. Surely they would realize Valahur was hardly tenable as a nation any longer. Despite holding Tsaldalr, Avulash had seemed more intent on subjugating Valahur than the bigger island of Avadur. Maybe it was pure chance of landing at Norddalr first. But he thought back to the day he first saw the ghostly white ark gliding across the horizon, intent on its heinous purpose. It had been no accident.
Inside the hall, servants were preparing the fires for a morning meal. The young boy with his iron pot had been relieved of his prop by an older woman, and was now carrying an empty box to fetch firewood. Lethos hadn't the heart to awaken both Valda and Syrus to what was going to be a difficult morning, yet he saw no other choice. Grimwold was coming, and he hadn't mentioned Thorgis. There would be a hard story to tell, no doubt.
Once everyone was awakened, including Blund, the mood had turned dark. Grimwold was coming with news, and no one wanted to hear anything worse about the world. Valda was given a place at the high table to receive Grimwold, and her splinted leg was propped on a stool. Blund wanted to sit at her right side, but she asked for Lethos instead.
"He is my champion," she said, as if everyone should know this. "He sits at my right hand. But you, War Chief Blund, must sit at my left, as your aid has been indispensable."
Mollified, Blund nodded to his men as if confirming that this was how it was going to be all along. Lethos, however, wavered.
"Valda, or is it Your Majesty now? I cannot sit as if judging Grimwold. It's just not--proper."
"It is always Valda between us," she said with a smile. "And I understand. Perhaps Syrus would sit with me. Not in judgment of anyone but just in recognition of all you have done for me and Valahur."
Lethos had never understood royal predilections for seating arrangements, but then, in a world dictated by status, such trivialities were inevitable. He had to accept it.
Grimwold warned him with a thought as he entered the village. I'm almost to the hall. People are staring at me as I pass.
His entrance was met with grave silence. He looked as he had during the battle with the giant, though his clothes were dirtied and torn from travel. In his right hand he carried Eldegris's sword still in its sheath. Looking at no one, even Lethos, he strode to the center of the hall and knelt before Valda.
Lethos watched Valda's eyes sweep past him toward the door, doubtlessly wondering at the fate of her brother.
"I have returned with your father's sword." Grimwold held it out with both hands. "I may have been bade to fetch this weapon, but it is not mine to carry. This should be for the rightful ruler of Valahur. This is yours, my queen."
Lethos wanted to interject a comment through their mental connection, but knew Grimwold had his mind closed. Instead, he raised his brows along with everyone else except for Valda. She remained coolly studying Grimwold.
"What of my brother?"
"He will trouble you no more. He left me the sword and fled. I did not pursue."
Valda drew a breath, but then closed her mouth. She stared hard at Grimwold, who had averted his eyes and held the sword up. Rather than ask for more detail, she motioned for Syrus to bring the sword to her. When Syrus lifted it away, Grimwold stood with Lethos. He still kept his eyes on Valda.
She held the sword out and put her hand on the hilt, letting it linger as she contemplated whether to draw it. At last, she pulled it from the scabbard and it blazed in golden light. The geometric patterns bloomed around the blade and began to orbit it as she held it forward to the collective gasp of the hall. Grimwold's shoulders slumped, imperceptible to all but Lethos. After the crowd had witnessed this moment, she returned the blade to its sheath with the ease of someone long accustomed to the weapon.
"Thank you for your service," she said. "What other news do you bring?"
"That is all, my queen."
Again everyone in the hall gasped, and Lethos even faced him. His mind still closed, Grimwold offered only the briefest side glance as an explanation. It meant nothing to Lethos. Surely there had to me more to tell, but perhaps not for this audience. Maybe for no one but himself.
"There must be more," Valda said, her expression flat. "But perhaps another time. You have had no sign of the Tsal and their magic during your travels?"
"Nothing concerning them, my queen. They are well and truly gone from Valahur."
Grimwold's statement brought collective sighs of relief. Valda sat back, and beside her both Syrus and Blund slumped. The fear of the Tsal having left something evil in their wake had been the undercurrent of every conversation Lethos had heard since returning. People were never ready to believe good news and always quick to accept the worst without any proof. Perhaps even he had clung to a vague belief that Avulash had left them a surprise, for he felt the tightness in his chest unbind at Grimwold's report.
The audience broke up on that happy note. No one here had any loyalty to Thorgis, and so none asked for more detail. Lethos, however, was eager to know more. At the very least, he had to be able to assure Valda that Grimwold had not killed him. He couldn't see Grimwold doing that, not when he wouldn't even force Thorgis through his power.
The breakfast preparations continued, and Grimwold excused himself to clean the dust of the road. Lethos stopped him before he left.
"A rather casual greeting for the man who saved your life, don't you think?"
"Ah, now don't go hitting me on the head with that all the time. You know I'm grateful." Grimwold patted him on the back. "We've got time yet to catch up. Let me have a moment to bathe in a stream and feel like myself again. It has been a long journey for both of us."
After Grimwold left and the crowd dispersed to their duties, Lethos wandered over to both Valda and Syrus who sat with Blund. Their murmurs stopped at his approach, and suddenly he felt like an outsider. Were they expecting him to have some sort of report? He had only spent a few extra moments with Grimwold. What could he have discovered?
"He didn't tell me more than what he told you," Lethos said as he pulled up a bench. "Syrus, you've known him years longer than me. Why won't he say more of what he's been about?"
Syrus shrugged. "I've known him longer, but I cannot touch his mind as you can. If something bothers him he will talk about it. As long as the Tsal are defeated, then it's no matter what he has been about."
"What happened to my brother?" Valda asked, looking at the back of the hall.
Both Syrus and Lethos shared a pained look. Syrus spoke first. "Thorgis was a coward. If Grimwold says he will trouble us no more, then that is a good thing. I see no reason to doubt what Grimwold has said."
"Lethos, you will have to discover if my brother was killed. I know he is your friend and you are inclined to believe him. But I have my doubts." Valda's voice remained cool, but Lethos heard the edge in it. "Grimwold is a law unto himself, with powers that set him above all men. Will I be queen only with his permission, and will I rule only by what he believes is right?"
Blund jumped in, leaning forward on his chair. "I will be the first to swear loyalty to you as High Queen. I will bring all my fellow war chiefs to the same decision, I promise this."
Valda flashed a smile before settling back to her cool anger. "I appreciate the gesture. I will need all of Valahur behind me if we are to rebuild without more bloodshed. The Tsal have left us in a far worse state than ever before. It will be a long road ahead."
"Speaking of the Tsal," Syrus said, casting Lethos a dark glance. "While we have ended the immediate threat, we never properly shut down their beacon."
"I threw the stone into the sea," Lethos said.
"Exactly. I haven't retrieved King Eldegris's book, but I'm certain that instructions for closing the beacon were not to throw it into the ocean. I believe that beacon still functions, and that the Tsal will find us in due time."
The heat on Lethos's face could have cooked breakfast for the hall. He did not know where to look. He found no escape in Valda's taut expression. Syrus would not look at him, and Blund's eyes were as wide as if just t
old the Tsal were coming for him personally.
"But you don't know for sure. Avulash said his king had already seen the beacon and knew the way." Lethos looked between the three of them, realizing he couldn't fix this with words. He had let the demonic rage control him and made a foolish decision. "Maybe there's a way to stop it yet?"
Syrus sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I hope there is. Not much to be done for it now."
"No matter what," Valda said. "We have to prepare for the next wave of Tsal. We will be going back to Norddalr to retrieve my father's book and anything else we can find. Their white ark must be nearby and might hold clues as well. It is best we act as if the Tsal were coming tomorrow rather than some future time."
She offered a smile to Lethos. "And do not berate yourself. Without you Avulash would still be alive and who knows what else he might have done. I am forever grateful for what you've done."
Feeling assuaged, Lethos was able to eat breakfast with everyone and not crawl beneath the table. Grimwold had returned, his clothes still dirtied and torn, but at least his face and hair were cleaned of travel grime. People gave him a wide berth and no one pressed him for more than what he wanted to say. Lethos found his reticence annoying and uncharacteristic, yet he was as helpless as any other. It seemed Grimwold had perfected the art of baring his mind, while Lethos had barely learned to keep his thoughts to himself. And here he thought Grimwold had always been the open door.
When evening came and people wandered off to their homes, Lethos finally had Grimwold alone. He was Grimwold's equal, not someone to slough off, and he would have answers. When he approached Grimwold standing in the doorway watching the sun set, he gave Lethos a sheepish look. "I know I owe you more. Let's step outside."
The evening was cold with the first brush of winter as they walked in silence from the hall. He half expected Grimwold to reach out with his thoughts, but instead they stopped at a tree stump and he spoke.
"I will not speak of Thorgis. Not now. He lives, but will not interfere with us again. The sword was for Valda. She will help me rebuild the Order and face the Tsal's arrival."
The Children of Urdis (Grimwold and Lethos Book 2) Page 35