Laen watched as Corin's hands had dropped to his sides, and he fell forward, braced on his arms in the mud as he retched and vomited, the cost of all that power taking its toll on his body. Laen screamed to his men to protect the prince, and ran to him, dragging Corin to his feet, terrified that the guns would target him once more now that the light had subsided.
"Get up, man, get up!" Laen shouted, grabbing the back of his jacket and hauling him to his feet. Dragging him as Corin stumbled with exhaustion, he guided him to a more sheltered position. Corin fell rather than sat, breathing hard, the scent of magic clinging to him so thickly it caught in Laen’s throat. "What in the name of the gods was that?" Laen demanded, awe and terror and disbelief vying for supremacy as he looked at the man in front of him. "What did you do?"
"Disabled their weapons," Corin rasped, grabbing the water bottle Laen offered him with gratitude and washing his mouth out. He spat it on the ground with a grimace. "Tell me you have something stronger than that or I'm going to kill you."
Laen grunted and thrust a small flask into his hand. "Then what was all the screaming?"
Corin tipped the flask up and drank deep, holding the flask with both hands to steady it, as he was trembling so hard. He lowered the empty flask, his eyes still closed as he took a breath. "Their weapons will have burned, and anyone bearing those weapons along with them." His eyes opened and Laen caught his breath at what he saw there. He vibrated with magic, with power, and yet Laen thought he had never seen him look so weary, a deep fatigue that was wearing him down with every turn on the path this war was leading them down. Corin’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at Laen. "You think I would kill the innocent? You think I would care so much for victory I would destroy what we fight for in the process? Collateral damage, isn't that what the humans call it?" There was anger in his voice and Laen held his hands out to calm him.
"No! No, I would never believe you would do such a thing, not on purpose, but …” He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I have never seen anything like that before, either, nor even heard of such a thing. You're beginning to scare the shit out of me,” he admitted, meaning every word.
Corin snorted. "You are beginning to speak like your wife," he observed with a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "And if I am only just now beginning to scare you, then I am sorely disappointed." He handed Laen back his flask and yelled for someone to bring his horse.
***
They entered the city to find a scene of devastation. When the wall had come down, the city had been shaken to its foundations and many of the houses and buildings had collapsed, too. Laen looked over at Corin riding beside him, white-faced, jaw set in a hard line.
"They're empty. The people will have taken shelter last night."
Corin nodded, he knew that, but still, he had destroyed homes, people's way of life, and the thought turned in his stomach and made him want to retch once more. He felt a blind fury towards Auberren. The longing to tear the man apart piece by piece with his bare hands burned under his skin, so fierce he did not know how he would deny it. In his life, he had acquired many enemies, some on purpose, many through no fault of his own. He had hated and been hated in return, and at times he had reacted with violence, but never, in all his days, had he been so consumed by the murderous desire to do someone harm, to strike them down and watch as the light died from their eyes. It terrified him, and yet he clung to it, needing the rage within him to get through this, to finish the job that had been demanded of him.
Their men made short work of securing the city, apart from some minor skirmishes where the die-hard fanatics would not go down, even knowing they were beaten. By midday, all that remained was the castle itself where the royal family had barricaded themselves in and refused to come out and surrender. The king's personal guard would be inside, but they could not stand against the combined weight of men that now stood inside the city gates.
Corin stood as the temperature dropped lower still, freezing hail stones clattering over the streets and roofs. Filthy, dark clouds boiled in a sky so black it felt like the middle of the night rather than the day. As lightning split the sky in two, he regarded some of the prisoners in what had been the market square of the city, ranks of grey, hollow-eyed men. They were soaked to the bone, dead on their feet, their faces sunken, ashen, aged before their time. They had faced a terrible ordeal, and yet not one expression was visible on their faces, they did not shiver, the injured did not cry out, they just ... stood.
"What's wrong with them?" Laen demanded, staring at the ranks of silent, still, dead-eyed men with revulsion.
"I don't know." Corin approached them with Laen beside him and the men did not look at him but gazed into space, their eyes glassy and unfocused. He took hold of one of the soldiers by the wrist, and the man just stood there without reacting, his arm limp in Corin's grasp.
Corin closed his eyes, feeling Laen’s gaze upon him as he searched the soldier’s flesh and bones with his magic, looking for a reason for their bizarre placidity. The taint in their blood rose to his fingertips, burning him like acid, and Corin dropped his arm with a furious curse, such a violent outburst that even Laen took a step back. Corin turned away, swearing retribution against Auberren with a tirade of angry words and curses in the old tongue that made his magic blaze around him. Laen’s own men exchanged glances of unease as the ground rumbled beneath them, until Laen braved the sting of his power and grabbed him by the arm, demanding to know what was wrong.
"Hypnuim," Corin said, barely able to catch his breath, he was shaking so badly with fury and fatigue. "Not content with poisoning the soil and bringing destruction down on the land, he commands obedience by drugging his men until they know not what they do." Corin paused, his hands clenched into fists as he met Laen’s eyes, and when he spoke, the words were cold and hard and perfectly calm. "I'm going to tear him apart, Laen," he said, watching as Laen comprehended that he truly meant it.
Laen stepped forward and put his hands on Corin's shoulders, his eyes grave and his tone every bit as fierce. "You can't,” he said, his hands tightening on Corin’s shoulders as he spoke. “I know you want to, and believe me, I wish I could step aside and watch you do it, but you can't."
Corin gritted his teeth, trying to concentrate on breathing. The need to tear the castle down around them until he found the man responsible for this was like a drug in his own blood, the desire for retribution so ferocious that if it had been anyone else but Laen beside him, he knew he’d have already begun. "I don't know whether I can stop myself,” he said as his heart beat far too fast, his breathing harsh no matter how he tried to stop it.
"Corin,” Laen said, his grip on Corin’s shoulders so hard now it was painful. “If you don't let him stand on the Field of Kings, they will question your honour for the rest of your days. You must let him live until then. You must face him with the eyes of the kingdom upon you, and then you will have your retribution, in full view of the people, and honour will be satisfied."
"Honour?" Corin repeated, spitting the word out with disgust. "By the fires, why should I concern myself with honour after all that he has done? He is not worth the effort."
Laen took a breath and shook his head. "No. He is not, but you are. You will do as tradition and the law state, and no one will ever be able to question that you are the true king of Aos Si. Let the people see what it means to be a king."
Corin closed his eyes, letting out a sound of fury and despair, knowing that Laen was right. The burden of guilt lay in his heart, though, like the weight of the entire kingdom had settled there. He looked back at his oldest friend as another burden rose to crush him further. He had Aos Si now, he’d made it this far, and now … now he owed Laen the truth. Fear prickled down his spine, coiling in his heart as he realised he’d rather face today’s battle all over again than face Laen when he heard his words. But nonetheless … "Laen ..." he began, his voice low. "Laen, there is something we need to talk about." He glanced up, seeing h
is friend's eyes fill with concern at the tone of his voice, and Corin’s throat tightened.
"I'm not sure now is the time," Laen said, frowning as he looked around at the huge number of prisoners. "These men need dealing with, there is the castle to secure yet, and ..."
Corin shook his head, determined now that Laen know what was coming. He swallowed, trying again to force the words from his mouth. "You remember after ... after Auberren’s men took me, after I got Anaïs out of Vaennstad. You came for me ..."
Laen nodded, his dark eyes intent as Corin spoke, clearly wondering where he was going with this, when an explosion on the far side of the square rocked them on their feet. Corin stumbled as the force of the blast pushed them backwards, his ears singing with the force of the noise as a terrible shower of rock and blood and dust and parts of men like so many pieces of meat were cast high into the air. The two men instinctively ducked down and took cover but Auberren's men stood motionless as the vile mixture rained down on them.
"Did you already command the men to secure the castle?" Corin yelled as the dust settled around them, shouting over the ringing in his own ears as Laen nodded.
"Yes, of course ..." he began as Corin grabbed at his arm, shaking his head.
"Booby-trapped," he rasped as the dust caught in his lungs, making him cough. “The bastard has booby trapped the castle.”
This time it was Laen who raged and swore, and Corin took a step back to let him vent his anger as his magic shimmered around him. His own men, those who had gathered to secure the prisoners, all looked to him, knowing their comrades had died in there, their own fury palpable, the desire to do battle leaping to life, called by Laen’s magic and wrath. How many of Laen’s men had died, their blood dripping down the vacant faces of the enemy ranks? It mattered little if it was one or one hundred. To die in battle was one thing, but like this … Laen’s own desire for Auberren’s blood shone bright in the black depths of his eyes.
They crossed the square to the gaping hole where the main entrance to the castle had stood. A body of men stood at the ready to breach the gap and enter once more, but Corin waved them back. Instead, he commanded silence and the only noise was the hail that lashed around them and froze their bodies until they wondered if they would ever be warm again.
"Auberren!" Corin yelled. Lightning lashed across the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder, and he gave a grim smile, knowing that he had been heard. "Hear me now, you miserable bastard. I will not sacrifice more men on your behalf. You will surrender now and remove any other nasty surprises, or I will raze this castle to the ground.” The earth beneath their feet trembled with the savagery of his threat and Corin hoped that was illustration enough of his intentions, because he meant every damned word. “You have precisely five minutes to get your family to safety."
Corin paced, the atmosphere in the square electric as his own men and Laen’s bayed for the old king’s blood, until Laen silenced them with a furious command. Surely the man still cared for his family at least, or was he so far in the grip of his madness that even that emotion was lost to him?
The wind howled around the market square, an eerie noise that made his skin prickle more than the icy feel of it cutting into his frozen body. He was too angry, too focused on ending this now to be aware of any kind of discomfort or exhaustion, he was running on pure adrenalin, every sense on alert. Every instinct demanded that he take the life of the man who had caused so much distress to an entire kingdom. Corin had almost reached the limits of his patience when a man came into view, hesitating in the gaping hole in the building, holding a white scarf and looking utterly terrified. Corin waved him forward.
"The guard have put down their arms, you m-may enter the castle," he stammered, staring at Corin like he was a nightmare come to life, a living monster.
Corin snorted and shook his head. He strode towards the man, experiencing a frisson of pleasure at seeing the panic and fear growing in his eyes. "Your king must believe me a fool indeed if he thinks I am setting one foot inside that building while his guard remains,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “If he wants to live long enough to face me on the Field of Kings, he must send every last one of them out, or I swear to the gods I’ll bury everyone under the rubble with no regrets."
The man blanched, but nodded his understanding and scurried away.
"He has two minutes," Corin shouted after him. "My patience is at an end."
A few moments later and the king’s personal guard filed out, unarmed, and were taken prisoner. Corin sighed as Laen nodded at him. All he had to do now was face Auberren, to stand in the same room with him and speak of what was to come ... And do it without murdering the evil bastard. His own men entered the building to make sure it was safe, and Corin followed in their wake.
***
Once Laen was satisfied with the reports coming from his men that the city was, indeed, secure, he hurried to follow Corin inside. He knew damned well that it was going to take all of his friend’s self-control just to be in the same room with Auberren without killing him. He needed to be there, just in case the mad fool goaded Corin into doing just that. A shout from behind him had him pausing on the threshold.
"What is it, man?" he snapped at the solider who was running to speak with him.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness,” he rasped, trying to catch his breath. “But I thought you would want to know at once. Your father, the king ..." he gasped as Laen felt a shiver of dread crawling down his spine.
"What of him?" Laen demanded, praying he wouldn’t hear the answer he dreaded.
"He's here."
Chapter 17
Corin strode into the staggering opulence of the king’s hall, flanked by his own personal guard. His Stallari, Eavan Trumecht, stuck to him like glue, his good eye narrowed for any signs that Corin was on the edge. Corin was well aware that Laen had ordered Eavan to physically restrain him if he looked like he was in danger of ripping Auberren’s throat out. Corin snorted at the idea. His Stallari might be Dark Fae and every bit as vast and powerful as Laen, but neither of them would stop him if he lost his grip on his temper.
Corin took his time, looking around the gilded room with distaste. Such an obvious show of wealth and power was vulgar to his eyes, like the man on the massive throne, whose hatred had settled upon Corin like a weight the moment he had stepped into the room. Corin moved slowly, his demeanour bored and meaning the insult as he approached the dais where Auberren sat, flanked by his children. Five sons and three daughters, all older than Corin himself, blonde and blue-eyed just like their father, or at least, like he had once been. In truth, Corin was shocked at the king’s appearance. Since the last time they had met, such a short time ago, he seemed to have shrunk in on himself. Yet those cold, blue eyes were nonetheless calculating and sly, though dull now, like a fish long since dead.
Corin addressed the three women, giving them a warm greeting and a knowing look calculated to infuriate the king and their brothers. He’d bedded one of them in the past, as their father well knew, and the other two had made no secret that they were his for the asking. Their cheeks burned under the watchful eyes of their brothers, who scowled with fury at their sisters, and then at Corin.
“How lovely to see you again, ladies,” he said, sounding as if he’d been invited to dinner, rather than that he’d just destroyed what remained of the kingdom in the space of mere days. “You are looking as charming as ever.” He saw the king’s knuckles whiten as he grasped the arms of the great throne, and smiled, satisfied.
He looked around the room, taking his time as he regarded the vast glittering chandeliers, the heavy gilt-framed paintings and towering marble pillars that held an epic painting on the ceiling. The colours were gaudy, the subject matter in questionable taste as nymphs trysted with satyrs in various states of undress and erotic positions. His voice echoed as he spoke. “I never did like this place, far too ornate for good taste. Still," he continued, giving Auberren a pleasant smile that showed too m
any teeth to be genuine. "I suppose I can do as I will now, redecorate maybe..." he mused with a careless wave of one hand. "Or perhaps …” he added, his voice growing hard. “I will just tear it down."
Auberren snorted, the dead eyes full of such violent hatred that Corin wondered what he’d ever done to deserve such vitriolic loathing. "It is not yours yet, you little bastard."
Corin stood, looking with a thoughtful expression at one of the portraits of a previous king . "Ah, yes," he said, his voice soft, though rage was an inferno, blazing under his skin. "I was wondering if we would get to that." He turned and faced Auberren, golden eyes burning with the heat of his fury "Would you like to discuss this in front of your children, or shall we dispense with them?"
He saw the king's jaw tighten and he waved his hand to dismiss his family, who began to file out, the brothers sending disgusted looks in Corin's direction as the daughters regarded him with a mixture of terror and curiosity.
Corin held up his hand. "Not so fast." He motioned for some of his guard to come forward. "Do please escort our gracious host's children to their rooms, and make sure the queen is safe and unharmed," he added. He had always pitied the queen’s fateful marriage to such a man, as she had seemed a quiet, unassuming woman. Corin watched as his men took the scowling family from the room before turning to Eavan.
“Leave us.”
“Not on your life,” the big man growled, his voice low enough that Auberren could not hear him, his one good eye glinting with irritation.
Corin sighed and walked closer to him. “You do remember that you work for me?” he muttered with a huff. “Not Laen. Dark Fae or no, you knelt to me, you stubborn fool.”
The massive figure of his Stallari snorted, unimpressed, crossing his muscular arms. “Aye,” he said, his tone implacable. “An’ I swore to protect ye. I’m stayin’.”
The Darkest Night Page 18