“Stop it!” the king screamed to the towers. “Stop it, are you mad?”
Lightning struck. Blinded, Antonil was thrown from his mount. He landed hard on his head. Gasping for air, his vision swirling with color, he saw faint images of his men, those he had promised to lead to victory, to safety, and watched them die amid a horrible mixture of fire, lightning, and ice. Their bodies burned, their bodies bled. So horrible, so futile, and why? What had he done?
The barrage lessened, nearly all of his army broken. Antonil staggered to his feet, found Tarlak on his knees still trying to cast a spell.
“I can protect us,” the wizard was mumbling. “I fought gods. I can protect us, I can protect…”
From the windows of the tower shot three balls of flame, their centers a deep blue, their outer ring a brilliant orange. All three were aimed their way. Tarlak grabbed Antonil’s hand, and accompanying a scream of pain a translucent shield formed before the two. The first fireball exploded. The heat washed over them, rolling about as if they were in the center of furnace, yet they were not yet burned. The second hit, Tarlak screamed, and the fire passed.
Before the third reached them, Antonil pulled his shield off his back. Despite the burns on his face, despite the blood dripping from his mouth and nose, Tarlak was still trying to protect them. Knowing it hopeless, Antonil shoved him to the grass, dove atop him, and raised his shield. Tarlak continued to mumble, and strangely he heard Aurelia’s name.
“I’m sorry,” Antonil whispered, thinking of his kingdom, his wife, his child. All of it lost, all of it in peril.
“Protect them, Harruq.”
The fire washed over him, burning away flesh and melting his armor, consuming the life that was his and ending his short, bittersweet reign.
From high atop the Master’s Tower, the Lord of the Council watched as the last of the army was buried in a wave of magical attacks. Satisfied, he turned to the lady at his right.
“Inform the capitol,” he said to her before descending the stairs that led up to the roof. “If Kevin wants the throne, it’s his to take.”
“Of course,” said the silver-haired lady. From the pocket of her dress she pulled out a scrap of paper. With a soft breath she blew across it. The paper folded in on itself, over and over, until it had taken the shape of a dove. Its wings flapped with the speed of a hummingbird, and then into the sky it shot, racing north at speeds only angels could hope to match.
Kevin stepped into Susan’s room, and she spun about, ready to berate him.
“Are the guards outside daft?” she asked. “You might have caught me in a state of undress.”
She meant it as playful banter, but the seriousness of his look stopped her. He held a piece of paper out to her as he approached.
“Your guards are dead,” he said.
Susan’s mouth fell open, and she took a step back toward her bed.
“What?’ she asked.
In answer he gave her the paper. She took it, unfolding the delicate material to reveal a simple message.
Antonil is dead.
She looked up, saw the hope in her brother’s eyes.
“What is this?” she asked. “What does this mean?”
“It means my men have already cleared the city walls, and they’ll be here in moments. Where is the half-orc?”
Susan’s mouth suddenly felt dry. This was it. This was everything she’d feared of her brother, reaching fruition at last. She’d always told herself it’d never come this far. Apparently, she’d told herself a lie.
“He’s with Aurelia, in their room,” she said, still in a daze. “Will you kill them?”
Kevin put his hands on her shoulders, his hard gaze staring down at her. It made her feel small. It always did.
“Harruq was named steward by your husband. If I do nothing, that brute will rule, not you, not your child. By the time Gregory comes of age, do you think he’ll even have a throne to inherit? Harruq is the angels’ puppet. You know this. You’ve seen it.”
“Don’t do this,” Susan whispered. “Please, you don’t need to do this. At least let their little girl live.”
Kevin swallowed.
“This is an ugly business,” he said. “I’m not sure if she can be spared. No one must know what takes place here. We can still save our land, my dear sister. It will just take a little sacrifice. Can you do that for me? Can you be strong like I need you to be?”
Susan tried to push him away, but he held onto her, his grip on her arms tightening.
“You bastard,” she said. “You’ll kill us all, won’t you? My baby boy, even him, you sick-”
He slapped her across the face, silencing her. A hard shove knocked her to the ground. Shaking his head, he pulled out a small length of rope that had been looped about his belt.
“I do what must be done,” he said. “Something you’d never understand.”
She wanted to laugh at him. What must be done? She’d married a stranger so their household could prosper in the chaos following the war. Just a man of common blood, a man who loved his lost homeland more than her. She’d sat in the shadow of a half-blood hero, named steward because she was seen as too vulnerable to be declared ruler herself. For family, for friends, she understood enduring such things. But this wasn’t for family. It wasn’t for country. She saw greed in her brother’s eyes, a lust for power she should have quashed years ago.
“You won’t kill them,” she said, giving him her hardest glare. “Harruq’s stronger than any man you have, and the elf’s magic is unstoppable. They’ll escape, and when they do they’ll tell the whole world of your betrayal.”
Kevin smiled that confident smile of his as he forced her to her knees, wrapping his rope around her wrists.
“My dear sister, trust me,” he said as men in strange clothes and gray masks entered the room behind him. “I’ve taken care of that.”
27
“What do you think?” Harruq asked as he held up two different shirts, one crimson and shiny, the other a deep, subdued green. “Which will look better on me at the ball tonight? I want tough but smart. Think we can do that with these frilly outfits? You know, Haern always managed to…”
He stopped, mouth hanging open, as Aurelia suddenly collapsed, falling off the bed and onto her knees, her hands clutching the sides of her head.
“Aurry?” he asked, rushing to her side. She let out a gasp as he put his arms around her, holding her against him.
“Stop it!” she screamed, her eyes rolling back into her head. “Stop it, you’re burning him!”
And then, just like that, it ceased. Her body crumpled and he held her, stroking her hair, completely baffled and terrified because of it. For a long while she trembled in his arms, crying softly. It was only when she finally sat up, sniffling and wiping at her eyes, that he was convinced she’d regained her senses.
“Tarlak,” she said. “That was Tarlak. He’s dead, Harruq. Antonil as well. They’re all dead.”
He opened his mouth, closed it. Her words were a knife to his heart.
“No,” he blubbered. “No, that’s not right. You…what you saw was a dream, a vision, maybe you…”
“Stop it,” she said. “I know what that was. He was trying to warn us about something. All I saw was fire. I felt it, Harruq. Antonil dove atop him to save him, but they both burned.”
“Warn us?” Harruq asked. He was still trying to wrap his head around the idea of such good friends dying in so terrible a way. “Warn us about what?”
She rose unsteadily to her feet.
“The king is dead,” she said. “I don’t know if he knew I heard, but Antonil’s last words were him begging you to protect his family. Think, Harruq. Gregory’s now the heir. Who benefits most? Who’s now in the most danger?”
Before she’d even finished her sentence Harruq was belting his swords to his waist, not even bothering with his armor.
“Where’s Gregory?” he asked as he cinched the belt tight, then looped the extra lea
ther beyond the buckle into a knot. When finished, he tossed Aurelia her staff from a corner of the room.
“He and Aubrienna are with their tutor,” she said as she caught it.
“Good, they’re together. That’ll save us time. Once we get them we’ll gather some guards, keep everyone on alert. There’s not going to be any sort of coup today, I promise.”
They left his room and hurried down the hall.
“Stay calm,” Aurelia said, pulling on him to slow him down. “There’s no way anyone can know about it yet.”
“You know about it,” Harruq countered.
They reached the stairwell and climbed to the upper floor of the castle. Down the hall stood four soldiers holding short swords. Harruq nodded at them, then barged through the door they guarded. Gregory and Aubrienna sat at small desks, scraps of paper before them. Hovering over them was an older man with white hair, the tutor brought in to teach the children their letters. Gregory was fairly young for it, but Aubrienna had taken to writing. Both their hands were smeared with ink, and at his noisy entrance they jumped.
“Lessons are over,” Harruq said to the tutor. “Go on home.”
The old man bowed, clearly confused but not pressing for a reason. He said goodbye to the children, then left. With him gone Harruq checked every part of the room, even what seemed like empty spaces. Haern had taught him how well the best of the best could hide in plain sight. Once certain the room was secure, he flung the bolt on the door in place, locking them inside.
“Keep playing,” Aurelia told Aubrienna when she asked what was going on. Beside her Gregory had fallen silent, watching with his ink-covered hands in his lap, staining his outfit black.
“We’ve got some time to think,” Harruq said, feeling infinitely better now that he was with his daughter. “Now that Antonil is…”
He paused, glancing at Gregory.
“…not around,” he continued, “that means Gregory’s king, right?”
“They won’t let a child rule at such a young age,” Aurelia said.
“Then it’ll be Susan. We need to get her to safety. She’ll be next in line to rule.”
Aurelia gave him a look, and he realized he was still missing something.
“What?” he asked.
“A steward is appointed to rule when a child cannot,” she explained. “And in this case, the king’s last act was to appoint such a steward. Susan won’t rule, Harruq. You will.”
Harruq’s emotions felt too raw to act appropriately, so he just acted like himself.
“Shit.” He punched the wall, ignoring how much the stone hurt his hand. “Shit, shit, shit!”
He caught both children watching him, and he felt his neck flush.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Ignore daddy’s mouth.”
“Susan’s life might still be in danger,” Aurelia said, keeping her voice subdued in hopes Aubrienna and Gregory would not pay attention. “If anyone wants to usurp the throne, she’ll still need to be eliminated.”
Harruq nodded, trying to think. He’d accepted his position thinking it’d only be temporary. In a year at most Antonil was supposed to return, having conquered the scattered orc armies. But now…Gregory wasn’t even four. How long until the boy was considered a man by law? He didn’t know, but he severely wished he did. Eight years? Ten? He thought of the years passing, the weight of everything on his shoulders, and felt panic rising in his chest.
“I can’t do this,” he said. “I can’t. I can’t keep going, I can’t rule for that long even with Susan’s help. She’ll have to do it. She has to.” He walked over to the window, gesturing out to the city stretching out before them, a great expanse of homes and shops. “I can’t rule all that! I can’t…”
He stopped, leaning farther out the window and squinting.
“Aurry, get over here,” he said. When she did, he pointed to the street. “What is that?”
She joined him, and with her sharper eyes she spotted men marching up the road toward the front of the castle. He estimated at least four hundred, maybe five. They waved no banners to show their allegiance, but their tunics looked familiar. He couldn’t place it, but Aurelia could.
“Kevin,” she said. “Those are Kevin Maryll’s men.”
The two shared a look. There was no valid reason for Kevin to be marching so many men into the castle. No reason but one. As they watched, craning their necks down and to the right so they might see, they noticed Kevin walked ahead of the throng, talking with the castle guards. As the doors opened to let him in, he stabbed one of the guards, then rushed inside. His soldiers followed, using their very bodies to prevent its closure. Harruq swore as he jerked his head back inside the room.
“Time to go,” Harruq said. “Make us a portal and take us somewhere far, far away.”
“What of Susan?” Aurelia asked as she began the motions with her hands.
“I’ll come back for her once you three are safe.”
Her look said she wasn’t happy with the idea of him remaining behind, but she focused on casting her spell. Harruq waited, expecting the familiar blue line to rip open before him, tearing into reality and creating a gateway to somewhere well-known to his wife. But instead nothing happened. He blinked, glanced around thinking he’d missed something.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Aurelia frowned, and her brow furrowed as she concentrated harder.
“Something is…strange,” she said. Again she tried casting the spell, and again nothing happened. Harruq watched, his anxiety increasing tenfold.
“I think I know what’s going on,” she said after a third time yielded similar results. To test, she went to the window. Ice surrounded her hand, forming into a thin lance that she hurled out the window toward the courtyard. Barely an inch beyond the window ledge the ice dissolved away as if it had never been. Harruq grimaced, confused but knowing that whatever it meant, it wasn’t good.
“The entire castle is surrounded by some sort of invisible…wall,” she explained. “No magical spell can make it through without disappating. Worse, it’s disrupting any sort of translocational magic. I’ve tried opening portals, even to somewhere inside the castle, but they won’t take. I can’t get us out, Harruq.”
He could only follow half of what she said, but he understood the deeper meaning behind it.
“Kevin’s ready for us,” Harruq said. “He knew you would be with me.”
The two shared a glance, each thinking the same thing. If Kevin was ready for them, if he’d gone through all the trouble to trap them there, then he wanted them for a reason. Most likely, he wanted them dead.
“He seeks the throne for himself,” Aurelia said. “We’re just obstacles in his way.”
“We’re more than obstacles.”
Harruq opened the door, to where the four guards waited. All four looked nervous.
“Steward,” one said. “We thought to interrupt, but weren’t sure.”
He didn’t need to ask about what. From the floor below they could hear the faint sounds of steel hitting steel. Kevin’s men were swarming the castle, killing all of the guards.
“We’ve been betrayed,” Harruq said. “All of you, get in here. Guard the little prince with your lives.”
Despite their apparent nervousness, the men saluted and hurried inside. Harruq glanced up and down the hall, his mind racing.
“We can’t hold them off forever,” Aurelia said, coming up behind him. Aubrienna clutched her mother’s hand, her eyes wide with fear at the sudden commotion.
“Sure we can,” Harruq said. “But we don’t need to. There’s a scepter back in our room. If I can get to it, we can summon a whole army of angels to protect us.”
“What about Susan?”
Harruq looked back into the room. He couldn’t get the scepter and Susan, at least not both at the same time. Aurelia could go, but that left the children with only four guards to hold off Kevin’s men until one of them returned.
“There’s nothing w
e can do,” he said. “We’ll just have to hope she lives. Stay here. I don’t care if they brought a thousand men. You’re strong enough to stop them.”
He kissed her, then bent down to wrap Aubrienna in a hug.
“You stay safe,” he said to her, kissing her cheek. Standing, he drew his swords and went over the layout of the castle in his mind. No matter which way he went, he’d need to go down the stairs to the lower floor. Presumably the floor was already lost, the guards within overrun. If only he could get down there without need of the stairs, bypassing the bulk of the forces…
He looked to Aurelia.
“The outside of the castle’s been blocked,” he said. “But not inside, right?”
His wife gave him a confused look, then understood.
“I won’t be able to get you back up,” she said.
“Leave that part to me.”
Aurelia went to nearest door, pushing it open. Inside were simple beds, clean and unused for some time. Gathering her energy, Aurelia unleashed it in a focused point, blasting a hole in the stone floor just large enough for Harruq to hop through. Peering down, he found another room, this one far fancier, reserved for visiting lords and ladies. Beside the bed lay a heavy gentlemen, blood pooling around his throat. Harruq shook his head, then turned back to his wife.
“Love you,” he said before hopping down. He landed atop the bed, rolled off, and then drew his swords.
“Should have put my armor on after all,” he muttered as he slid to the door, which was slightly ajar. Glancing out, he saw soldiers rushing down the hall, their tabards bearing the Maryll family crest. All wore heavy chain mail for protection. Harruq winced again.
“Really, really should have put on my armor.”
When he decided the hall was as empty as it would get, he burst out, then spun in an attempt to orientate himself. To his left were over fifty men filtering into the stairwell leading up. On his right were only a few, and they froze at his sudden appearance. Harruq barreled down the hall toward them, relying on surprise to take them out quickly. The first tried to stab him but woefully underestimated Harruq’s speed. Without slowing, Harruq slashed his throat and sidestepped his collapsing body, swatting aside the second’s hesitant defense before shoving his swords into the man’s stomach. The chainmail resisted, but the magic in Harruq’s swords was strong, and they pushed through to pierce flesh.
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