Paladin's Fall: Kingdom's Forge Book 2

by Kade Derricks

  The Emperor paused for a moment. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts into words.

  “Your father has the only army that can reach here in time, and instead of coming to our defense he is slowly withdrawing all of his forces toward the Highlands, as he has been doing since the fall of Thistleton. Without them, Karelton will almost certainly fall.”

  “What does he want?” Dain said.

  “You. He wants his son. He will only help us if you are sent to him,” Pelion said. “Every day his army retreats further away and every day the elves draw closer. Were that the only consideration, I might take my chances with the elves. I’ve been assured they can’t besiege the capital. They lack the soldiers. And I have other armies beside your father’s; once they arrive the elves will be forced to retreat. Then I can deal with the rebellious Highlands at my leisure.”

  Dain chuckled. “I’ve seen the wreckage at the Watchtower of the East. Chalmer underestimated them. They may not conquer Karelton, but they can bring it to its knees.”

  “Yes, well, as I said, there are other considerations. Many people here are convinced you aren’t guilty, that you were framed, and that you are the city’s only savior. The Hero of Thistleton. They are demanding your release.”

  “So let me go.”

  “It isn’t that simple, Dain. Chalmer and his supporters are demanding your execution.”

  “And it rankles that my father is holding you ransom,” Dain said. His voice felt a bit better, and a dead man no longer cared for tact.

  “Yes, yes it does,” Pelion said. He shook his head in disgust. “I cannot rule the Empire in such a fashion. I must not be seen as weak.”

  “Why are you here, then?”

  “I am here to ask for your help.”

  “How?” Dain rattled his chains. “I’m a little tied up.”

  Pelion looked as if he were restraining himself from tossing his eyes skyward in exasperation. “I want you to go before the people and tell them you are guilty. Tell them you did exactly what you are accused of. Everything you are accused of.”

  “Why should I?”

  “If you do this, I will grant you exile instead of death. You may go to your father, to your homeland, for a single day, and then you will be allowed to leave the Empire unmolested.”

  “Doesn’t sound like a good deal to me,” Dain said. “If I wait a few days, the elves will be here. Maybe they’ll offer a better one. You chose to help the wrong partner, Pelion. It seems they’ve proven the stronger of the two.”

  Pelion’s face reddened. Dain knew then that, perhaps for the first time in his life, the Emperor was truly frightened. In all his years, had the man ever felt fear before?

  “Arrogant pup,” Pelion started. His fists trembled, and he drew himself up as if to strike.

  Dain almost welcomed the blow. Let the Emperor hit him. He’d laugh at the old man, and with his feet untied and no one else here, he’d get at least one good kick in. Maybe he could break a brittle bone or two.

  Instead, Pelion forced himself to sit again.

  “You aren’t thinking clearly. If Karelton falls, think about all those who will fall with it. It won’t just be me. It’s never just the ruler that suffers. Your friends, the Order, my granddaughters, Melinia and Jasine, anyone you’ve ever met or known in the city will be affected.”

  Dain stayed silent. He is right. In war, the innocents always suffer the worst. Those at the top negotiated their way out. He’d seen proof of that at Thistleton. How many had died there when the city fell? When he closed his eyes he could still see their bodies, hear their screams. Could his conscience bear the people of Karelton’s suffering, too?

  “I want a pledge there’ll be no retribution on my family or on the Highlands. None by you or by Chalmer,” Dain said. “I want it in writing with sealed copies given to the Sovereign, myself, my father, and every member of the Assembly.”

  Pelion thought for a moment. “Granted. But you must read from a statement I approve.”

  After the Emperor left, a group of guards came. They removed Dain from his cell. He was given fresh clothes, food, water, and even a shave and a bath.

  The following morning the people of Karelton were summoned to Attendance Overlook, and he addressed them from the Emperor’s station.

  His remarks were brief. He admitted his betrayal and announced his exile at the Emperor’s merciful hands. He said he acted alone. He told them he’d fought his brothers and taken their lives.

  He was not allowed to tell them of Chalmer’s mad plan. He was not allowed to give any reason at all for his actions. By the end of his speech, the people cursed him, throwing fruit and old rags.

  But at least they might live, he consoled himself.

  Afterward, Melinia came forward, lovely as ever. She spit on him and slapped his face. He did nothing. If she didn’t know he would never get to convince her, and if she did then this was all just for show.

  Afterward he rode under armed guard for Castle Gladstone. On the way he passed his father’s army as they rushed to the capital’s defense.

  Grenier stopped him as he passed by.

  “Your father is gone. After the Emperor’s messenger arrived, he returned to the castle to wait for you,” the bannerman said.

  “I understand,” Dain said.

  “Is it true, then?” Grenier asked, face an incredulous scowl.

  “Enough of it is.” The Emperor had forbidden him from talking about what had really happened under penalty of death and his contract with Pelion deemed null and void.

  “The Hero of Thistleton saved countless lives. I do not believe he would do what even he himself has admitted to. I do not believe he would betray us. May you find peace,” Grenier said. He turned his horse and headed back to his men.

  For another week Dain and his guards traveled west. Eager to be home, Dain set a quick pace.

  At the outer stone, Dain dismounted Boon. He knew his father would sense him within the giant’s link. He walked slowly, knowing this was the last time he’d ever make this particular walk. His eyes took in the castle’s dark outline, the greyness of its stones, and his family’s bright banners flying overhead. It was fall, the best time to be in the Highlands, and in the cool air he could smell faint woodsmoke from the hearths. The hard stone scraped beneath his boots.

  He felt the ancient, formless eyes on him, measuring. How would they judge him? Would the castle’s spirit even remember him when he was gone? It would, he knew. Through the link it remembers everything.

  At the outer wall his family gathered to meet him. Master Kilian joined them. Dain’s four guards stood to the side, along with one of the Emperor’s scribes. The scribe took out a leaf of parchment and held a quill ready.

  “Father, I—” Dain began.

  “Your father is not here,” Harren said, cutting him off. Dain saw the anger in his eyes. There were tears in them, as well. He couldn’t remember ever seeing his father cry. “These are my sons,” he continued with a gesture to Tresten and Thule. “They stand with me, and I have no other.”

  Dain had half-expected this. The Emperor would have given his father a choice: cast him out, or draw the wrath of the Empire. One life weighed against thousands, Dain couldn’t blame his father for deciding as he had. Had he not done the same himself? He glanced at the scribe. The man was writing furiously. The Emperor would know everything said here today. Dain turned to his mother.

  “Mother, I am sorry. I could see no other way,” Dain said. His eyes were wet, stinging, and tears started to stream down his cheeks. He had been given only this one day to see them. Could he not even have this?

  “My sons are these, I have no other,” she said, putting a hand each to the boys’ backs. Tresten and Thule’s faces were stricken, and his mother’s voice cracked as she said
it. There were tears in her eyes as well. She tossed a large purse of coins at Dain’s feet. “Let this poor beggar have mercy.”

  “And you too, master?” Dain said to Kilian.

  “I had a student once. One who was loyal and wise and strong. I mourn for him. I gave him a sword and he took it on his travels. I told him he was a man of honor, and I was proud to be his uncle.” Kilian tossed a sword and scabbard on the ground near the purse. Dain recognized it. Kilian’s own sword, the weapon he had carried for so many years.

  “I could not let Chalmer succeed. Thave died defending what he believed. I would not allow his task to go unfulfilled,” Dain said in a rush. As he spoke, anger flared bright in his heart and tears blurred his vision. He couldn’t explain everything. He didn’t know how much his father knew of the truth. Sooner or later it would get out. The truth always did. Bental or one of the others who were there would tell his father when it was safe. “I could not have let the people of Karelton or the Highlands suffer for my actions. I regret nothing…nothing.”

  “We hear only the wind, and in it the ghosts of what once was,” Harren said. He eyed the scribe with disgust. “Let us go inside and take shelter.”

  Dain’s brothers and sister were crying openly now, too. Harren took his sons by the shoulders and turned them inside. Dain’s mother did the same with little Rylie. His sister alone turned back. Over her shoulder, she waved her small hand at him.

  Galena-The Present

  The rain faded into a steady drizzle. Beside Sera’s parents, Dain lowered his son into the cold ground. Telar had done his duty, defending the land and making the ultimate sacrifice. He could lie proud with his ancestors.

  Tears rolled down Dain’s face and disappeared in the rain. Anger had been washed away in a torrent of grief. He’d never get another chance to race his son home. Or see him grow, or fall in love, or have children of his own.

  Telar’s whole future had been stolen by Koren.

  Koren. Dain half-expected her to appear again and strike out at his family even here. No, she’ll never return to haunt us again. One ghost firmly laid to rest. They’d burned her warped body. He’d watched it turn to ash and scatter in the wind.

  Beside Dain, Sera wept. She’d barely spoken since he’d brought their son’s body back.

  Jin laid a leafy green wreath atop Telar’s small, cloth-wrapped body. Luren knelt at her side. She’d said little since the battle of the Well, and Dain could sense a great change in her. He could only imagine the pain of losing someone you shared your mother’s womb with. For her, every day would be but a pale shadow of what should have been now.

  Little Rhone batted his hands together in a playful clap, and Dain envied his littlest’s innocence.

  Would that we could all stay like that. The world would be a far better place.

  Age made men hard. Hard and selfish and cold. Age made them forget what they had and lust for what they did not. That lust, Dain was convinced, was the source of all sin.

  Twice in this generation the wood elves had been devastated. They’d known suffering and loss and heartache like few others had.

  Dain stole a glance at the mourners that joined them, those that weren’t family. Regan and Neive were there. Her brother, his old friend Verdant, miraculously risen from the dead. It had been a strange comfort to see him again, but a comfort nevertheless. Hexen, the loyal Paladin who’d barely survived destroying a siege tower, Tem, the highest-ranking dwarf after Razel’s tragic fall, and Alpere and Gashan, two golden elves. Humans, elves of both wood and Golden nations, dwarves, and whatever Verdant now was, all gathered to honor the loss of his son.

  It almost gave him hope that somehow they could forge a peaceful future together. The old animosities wouldn’t vanish overnight, but now that Koren was truly gone and with her the machinations of power and domination and bloodshed, time might begin to heal them.

  Dain studied Verdant for a moment. They’d have to decide what to do with the Risen. Though there were flashes of his old self still present, the priest was different now. Well, that is to be expected, Dain thought. Death and rebirth would change a man considerably.

  The first shovelful of cold dirt covered his son. Dain didn’t try to stem the flood of tears. He held Sera close, and her arms came around his waist. She was shaking.

  Dain remembered his son’s birth; that tiny, warm hand squeezing his finger. He’d promised his son that he’d always be there. That he’d always protect him. There was more to life than loss, but today it was difficult to tell what that was.

  He saw Regan’s hand extend toward Jin’s. She took it and held it tight.

  Hope, it seemed, still blossomed amidst the rain.

  The mountain wind was cold. Howling around him, its icy talons threatened to tear away Teran’s clothing.

  The red elf drew his fur-lined cloak tighter, wishing he’d brought a true coat. His boots crunched through the surface of the late spring snow. He tried moving his toes. They were still dry, but chilled to the bone. He wasn’t used to this. Insulated in the earth and nestled away in the enchanted lands, the Well was never cold.

  Ahead of him, one of the great axeblade peaks reached for the sky. He imagined that it wasn’t so tall as the last time he’d seen it—weathering should have carved off a few feet of it over the centuries, after all—but his eyes told him otherwise. He stopped just outside a narrow crack in the rock. What he sought was inside. He could smell its stench.

  “So, you’ve come at last,” an inhuman voice said. The sound seemed to come from just inside the cave, but Teran knew how distant its owner truly was.

  “I have come,” he answered.

  “My agent failed at the Well, but it was all worth it, if her efforts resulted in your freedom.”

  “Hmm, was it? That remains to be seen.” Teran braced himself for what was to come. His senses reached out and felt for the magic around him. Most spellcasters could draw power from only a single source; that limitation did not apply to him. Not anymore. He could pull strength from the void or nature or the valley’s deep magics at will now, and he gathered them all.

  “What remains to be seen is how long you will wait before freeing me,” the voice said.

  Power rushed into Teran. He felt full to the bursting with it.

  “I won’t be freeing you. In fact, I’ve come to bury you.”

  “Bury me? Your master?” The voice laughed now, an ugly, rolling chuckle. “Have you forgotten who created you? Do you believe yourself free?”

  “I helped the mortals defeat your monster. I am free of you, Baelzeron. There are no ties left between us.”

  “Foolish boy, my blood courses through your veins. I warped your mother before she birthed you; I will always own you, body and soul. Did you tell that to your new allies? Did you tell them the truth of elves and demons?”

  “I told them enough,” Teran said. Power still trickled into him, filling the remaining cracks and slivers. He needed it all, needed every ounce of it.

  “Lies,” the voice laughed again. “You told them lies. They would never allow you to roam free if they knew the truth.”

  “I told them,” Teran said through gritted teeth, “enough.”

  It was now or never. He reached down into the mountain’s hard granite with his will. The rock resisted, and he knew it was more than just the mountain. Baelzeron’s will fought against his. It sought to control his thoughts, to twist his actions.

  “I don’t know why you have turned on me. You are as guilty as I. The Well, the elves, these were your ideas, Teran, my brilliant architect. But you didn’t tell them that, did you, son? Nothing I’ve done lacks the imprint of your hand.”

  Teran fought as he’d never fought before. In return, Baelzeron flooded his mind with images; memories of the evils they’d done together.

>   The rock moved. Teran sensed a thin fracture deep below, one that slowly widened.

  “Burying me will change nothing. You will return to my ways, and then you will free me—or another will; it matters not. I have all the time in the stars, my child.”

  The crack exploded outward in a haze of dust and jagged gravel. Baelzeron’s voice was silent.

  “I know, Father. And I will be waiting,” Teran said. “I have plans of my own for the mortals.”

  “And so, Ambassador, the elves have resolved their differences?” Noor asked.

  “Indeed they have, my queen,” Neive replied.

  “What of the demons?”

  “Destroyed. A few wandered off from the main body, escaping their fate temporarily; the rangers are hunting them down now.”

  “This Teran…is helping them, you said?” Noor continued. She fought to keep the anger from her tone.

  “Yes. He has a broad range of expertise, and is both very old and very wise. He’s offered to help them hunt the stragglers, and then to rebuild.”

  “That is fortunate. Such a strong ally will benefit us all. And these other beasts, these Risen?”

  “They’ve taken over Mirr, the golden elves’ former capital.”

  “What about the Golden themselves? The soldiers were at the castle, but what about the civilians?”

  “Councilor Alpere thought a fresh start would be beneficial for his people. Baron Gladstone agreed. Better for them to live together with the wood elves and become one people than to stay apart in separate cities. With the Risen needing a new home, it made sense for everyone.”

  “Convenient,” Noor agreed. She rose and took a goblet from her desk. “Well, I’m sure you would like to rest.”