She glanced over her shoulder to see Segyn approaching, a drawn sword in one hand, a length of decaying wood from the swamp in the other. His eyes were crazed; he grinned. Lyr ran toward her, and toward Segyn, but he was too far away. She tried to rise from the ground but it was too late.
“Not this time, bitch.” With that, Segyn swung the length of wood at her head.
***
He was so shocked to see Segyn, his reaction almost came too late. Lyr called upon his magic and swung his sword, and the sturdy limb his old friend had been wielding stopped inches from meeting Rayne’s head and likely killing her. There was great force behind that attack.
Everything stopped. The butterflies which had flown from Rayne’s hand as she’d tried to rise, the grass which was bent beneath the pull of her skirt, the horses which had dropped their heads to eat. All stopped, all but him.
Lyr moved forward cautiously. He no longer trusted anything, not even his own magic. Even though he had been honing his craft for years, he could not always control the amount of time all was frozen. Time sometimes moved forward on its own, unbidden, but he usually had at least a few minutes to do what had to be done.
He moved Rayne out of harm’s way first, and breathed a sigh of relief when Segyn’s weapon was no longer upon her. He placed her several feet away, in a position that looked as if it would be comfortable enough when time resumed its forward march. When that was done he faced Segyn, a man he had called friend for years, a warrior who had taught him much of what he knew of battle, a traitor who was not what he’d pretended to be. A man he’d killed once.
There could be a quick end to this fight. A sword through the heart while Segyn was immobile would end it, but Lyr hesitated. He’d taken that route before, stabbing Segyn while the man had been helpless, and it had tasted bitter for days. It tasted bitter still. There was no honor in delivering such a death. Was that why the man had come back from the dead? Was Lyr being punished for delivering a less than honorable death to the once honorable warrior?
No, Segyn had never been honorable. He had only pretended, and though he had pretended very well he was not, nor had he ever been, a true and worthy warrior. Obviously the wound Lyr had delivered had not been fatal as it had appeared to be, and in his drugged state he had simply not realized the fact.
No matter what the case, his own honor had been tarnished by offering such a death. It had seemed the only way at the time, but now that he had the chance to face his enemy in a fair fight, it was only right to take it.
Lyr did not need the wave of his sword to start time again. That was the easiest way, it took the smallest amount of energy, but he did not wish to move the point of his sword away from the enemy. Segyn, the enemy. That combination of words still took some getting used to. They still stung. Segyn, the enemy.
He called upon his magic again, and with a brief flicker of his fingers, time resumed. Segyn’s swing continued mightily, spinning the man around with great force, as the object of his weapon had been moved out of range. Segyn spun wildly, lost his balance, and fell. He landed on his back as Rayne screamed briefly.
Segyn quickly realized what had happened and jumped to his feet, dropping the length of wood to grip his sword with both hands. He smiled, and that was when Lyr was certain there was nothing in this creature of the man he had once known.
“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance, boy. Killed me again, I should say.”
“I will kill you again,” Lyr said, realizing as he looked at the man before him that whatever he’d known as Segyn was gone. His old friend was a victim of the demon as surely as those they’d buried in that razed village days ago. He did not face a friend, but an enemy like any other.
“You can try.” Segyn swung his sword with a battle cry, and Lyr stepped aside and brandished his own blade with more control and precision than his opponent had shown. Segyn was angry, striking out almost wildly. He had lost control, that was apparent. Segyn had taken quite a chance, attacking while Lyr was awake and able to stop time, going not for the deadliest threat first but for Rayne.
Segyn was fighting in a careless manner but that might not last. He’d always had great control in battle, and now that the fight had begun, he would call upon instinct and skill.
The older man had taught Lyr much of what he knew of swordplay, and that worked to neither’s advantage. They knew one another’s moves, they anticipated the next strike. For a few minutes they danced in the meadow, eyes locked and blades striking with force, steps carefully planned and precise. Segyn’s wild anger faded, as Lyr had known it would. Rayne spoke, but Lyr did not listen. He couldn’t afford to listen to her words, not when he needed all of his attention on the enemy before him.
He spoke to her only once, to order her to stay out of the fight. His fight. A fair fight. There were no vines about for her to manipulate, but in truth he had no idea what she might be able to do.
The battle was almost like sparring in the courtyard of the Circle of Bacwyr headquarters, but this was no practice session. This was life and death. Lyr was fast; he had always been fast. He was precise, thanks to years of practice. Segyn was strong and ruthless, and he knew Lyr’s moves as well as he knew his own.
Soon perspiration ran down Lyr’s face and his arms. His heart pounded. His eyes stung. So far no one had landed a blow against flesh, but as they tired, that would come. Segyn was possessed of an unnatural energy, so Lyr could not allow the older man to get the upper hand. He had to make a move Segyn did not expect, now, before his mind became incapable of anything but instinct.
He dipped down, rolled to the side, and then struck out from an angle. His blade cut into Segyn’s thigh, and the man was truly surprised. The injury didn’t slow him down, though. Segyn laughed. That unnatural laughter sent chills down Lyr’s spine.
It wasn’t long before he managed to dismiss the disturbing fact that his opponent was Segyn and simply fought through instinct, as he had been taught. He felt the blades, his own and the other, as much as he saw them. The sword he wielded felt a part of him, as much as an arm or a leg or the air he breathed. His heartbeat slowed, and all anxiety fell away. He no longer felt tired, and if he continued to sweat, he dismissed the nuisance. There was only the sword, and the sword was his.
Segyn stumbled, and again Lyr drew blood. The older man gasped but recovered quickly, “Lucky shot, boy,” he said gruffly as he came around and swung hard.
Lyr deflected the blow, spun out of reach, and then moved in for another strike. There was no luck in swordplay which was not made by the man who gripped the weapon in his hands.
Again, Segyn gasped, but he also smiled. “You cannot kill me, boy. The demon brought me back from the dead after the last time you killed me. Do you think he’ll allow me to die while the girl and the crystal dagger are within reach? No, they are mine, and you are nothing more than a soon-to-be-dead spoiled child...
While Segyn taunted, Lyr kept his mind and his soul on the battle at hand. He did not listen, he did not take a single word to heart. It wasn’t the man he had once known speaking, in any case. This opponent was the servant of a demon, a demon who wished to bring darkness and pain to the world, and most especially to Rayne.
Segyn’s taunts were cut short when Lyr’s blade pierced the place where his heart should be. For a moment Segyn was still, and then he dropped to his knees, oddly alive. He laid one hand against the blood that seeped from what should’ve been a killing wound. “I didn’t teach you that move.”
“No,” Lyr said softly. “My father did.”
The crystal dagger came alive, humming against the thigh where it was strapped, and as it had in the past, the thing spoke to him.
Take his head.
Lyr shook his head. “None of my warriors should die that way. It isn’t fitting.”
This vessel of darkness is no longer your warrior. Unless you take his head, he will return. The humming grew stronger. He will go after her before you, as he did on this day. Gi
ve him the chance and he will use her against you.
While Segyn studied his bloody hand and tried to make a firmer grip on the handle of his sword, Lyr stepped back, spun forward, and swung his weapon with strength and precision. Though he had never made such a move before, he knew it was not easy to take a man’s head. Strength was called for, strength of arm and of heart.
It was an ugly sight, to see a man’s head separated from his shoulders, to witness the moment when familiar eyes which had once been lively and laughing, which had once been dark and malevolent, went lifeless.
This time he defeated Segyn in a fair battle, and the man who had once been his friend was truly dead.
The humming against his thigh grew silent. Apparently the crystal dagger slept again, now that the threat was past.
He heard Rayne before he saw her. She ran toward him, her breath labored and uneven. He turned to face her, and she threw herself at him.
He caught her, which meant dropping his sword. Lyr never dropped his sword, but Rayne propelled herself at him so fiercely it was either let go of the weapon or take the chance that she’d fall. Her face was damp with tears, and her heart, pressed against his, beat too fast and hard.
“Why didn’t you freeze time and finish him straightaway?” she asked, her face buried against his shoulder. “Why didn’t you use your magic? Do you know how close his blade came to you? Do you realize what a risk you took in fighting him as you did? Why?”
“I’m not afraid to face any man fairly,” he said, his voice oddly calm. No, he was not afraid of much at all, but when he thought of Rayne in Ciro’s possession, he was truly terrified.
“Well, I was afraid,” she said, a touch of petulance creeping into her voice.
“I would never have allowed him to hurt you.”
Rayne loosened her grip and placed her feet on the ground. She backed away from him just a little, and let her hands fall to her sides. “I was not afraid for myself, I was afraid for you.”
“You needn’t have been.”
Her chin came up a little, as if she didn’t like that answer. Without warning, she changed the path of her questioning. “How far are we from the armies you seek?”
“Half a day or thereabouts, if General Merin and his men are where he said they would be.”
“Half a day,” she repeated. “Our journey is almost done, then.”
“Yes.” Almost done. Just beginning.
The dagger against his thigh hummed.
***
When they came across the armies of the rightful Emperor of Columbyana, Rayne felt a tugging at her heart. This was their destination, she was safe here, and yet she did not feel relief. Lyr would leave her now, and he would probably be glad to ride off without her to slow him down. After all, he didn’t even think she had a right to be worried about him.
The sight of all the armed soldiers that spread before them should have been a comfort. The sprawling camp bustled. Ciro would not take this country and its people easily. There were many men who would fight to the death for what was right. Men like Lyr—though she suspected there was no other man precisely like Lyr Hern, Prince of Swords.
He slowed his pace as a soldier on guard came toward them. The young man in green was serious of nature and well armed. Lyr raised his hands so the soldier could see that he did not hold a weapon.
“You’ll be fine now,” he said in a lowered voice so only Rayne could hear. “My cousin and her husband and the others will all gather round you and make sure Ciro does not come near you.”
“Do you think it’s really that simple?”
Lyr hesitated. “I don’t know. I hope so.” He nodded toward the army, a camp filled with soldiers ready to fight. “Getting past so many dedicated men will not be easy, not even for Ciro.”
Rayne knew what Ciro had planned for her, and thanks to Gwyneth’s claim that she was a Goddess of the Earth, she now understood why. Power. Ciro wanted to use whatever power she possessed to create a greater evil in the child he planned to give her.
Whether Lyr cared for her or not, she hoped with all her heart that his child was already growing inside her, that if Ciro did defeat him and make his way past this army, she would not be suitable as a vessel for his child.
Not right away, of course. Not unless he waited or worse... harmed the child within her.
Rayne placed a hand over her flat belly. It was much too soon to know if there was a child or not, but if that was the case, she had not only herself to protect but the child as well.
The soldier recognized Lyr as he came closer. His face relaxed, and his sword dropped. “M’lord,” the soldier said. “Where are the others?”
Lyr’s jaw tightened. “There are no others, I’m afraid.”
The soldier nodded. “Ciro’s Own has been at work in your part of the world as well as here, then.”
“Here?” Lyr leaned forward in the saddle. “What happened?”
“The rightful emperor has been taken.”
“Emperor Arik?”
The soldier shook his head. “Emperor Arik is dead. His son, Emperor Sian, has been kidnapped. We fear for his life.”
True puzzlement crossed Lyr’s face. “Emperor Sian?”
“Yes. Much has happened while you were away, m’lord. Sian Sayre Chamblyn, the wizard who is wed to our own Sister Ariana, is the illegitimate son of the late emperor and was named as his successor.”
Lyr took a moment to allow the information to soak in. “Sian is emperor and he’s been taken.”
“Yes, m’lord. He was taken last night.”
“How do you know it was Ciro? Isn’t it possible that Sian simply wandered off?” As he asked the question, he knew that could not be. Sian was devoted to Ariana, and was not a man given to wandering.
The soldier shook his head. “A note was left.” His face paled and his lips thinned. “It was written in blood, m’lord.”
Lyr glanced toward Rayne, perhaps trying to judge her reaction to the news. “Sian’s blood?”
“We don’t know, m’lord.”
Lyr nodded his head. “This is an unexpected turn of events. My cousin Ariana must be—”
“Livid, m’lord,” the soldier said. “She’ll be glad to know that you’ve arrived. We’re moving toward Arthes within the hour.” The young man’s eyebrows shot up. “This new development means she’s empress. Empress Ariana. That will take some getting used to.”
Lyr turned again to study Rayne’s face, and he saw the worry etched there. He’d been so certain that she would be safe here, that Ciro and his damned Own would not be able to touch her among these soldiers. If the rightful emperor could be taken, was there any safe place in this world for her?
Chapter Fourteen
“You could’ve told me!” Lyr shouted.
“He didn’t want anyone to know!” Ariana’s voice was as loud and strident as his own.
“Obviously someone knew!” Lyr took a step forward, and General Merin, who stood behind Ariana, mirrored his step.
“You’ll not speak to the empress in such a manner,” the general said sternly, “even if you are Prince of Swords and a relation.”
Empress Ariana, with her wild hair and well-worn soldier’s uniform, did not look like any ruler Lyr had ever imagined. No, that was not entirely correct. There was a strength in her eyes, even now, that was downright imperial.
She dismissed her general’s warning. Poor Merin might as well not have been in the vicinity for all the attention she showed him at this moment. “This discussion will have to wait. We’re going after Sian now.”
“Not in a panic you’re not,” Lyr said. “That’s exactly what Ciro will expect and he’ll be ready for you.”
“I don’t care.”
“If he destroys this army...”
“I don’t care!” Ariana shouted.
Lyr placed stilling hands on his cousin’s shoulders. He understood too well what she was feeling. He had never before been torn between what he knew to be rig
ht and what he felt inside. Warriors did not take emotions into account when formulating a battle plan, but since meeting Rayne, he’d been turned inside out by the awakening of his own emotions. Killing her would put an end to a horrific possibility, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t even suggest such an action aloud, because Ariana’s army was filled with capable men who, in the name of victory, would be glad to do what Lyr could not.
Rayne was presently under massive guard. If those men knew what Ciro intended, would they kill her rather than take the chance that she might give birth to a monster? Of course they would. They might shed a tear, they might regret the action for the rest of their days, they would not embrace the task with any joy... but they would kill her.
The only solution was to succeed in his task and take Ciro’s life with the crystal dagger.
He remained calm. “How many battles has this army fought against Ciro’s Own?”
“Too many to count,” Ariana answered tersely.
“They fight and they win, do they not?”
“Yes.”
“With each win you weaken the demon, with each soul you return to one of Ciro’s Own, you keep the Isen Demon from the power it seeks.”
“Yes, but we’re talking about Sian!”
Could he reason with her? He wasn’t sure. Ariana had sacrificed much to this war. Had she reached the breaking point? “If you lose this army with a rash move at the wrong time, Ciro wins. It will take years to build another like it, it will take a generation to construct an army capable of facing Ciro and the demon, and even then... no, the truth is if we don’t defeat him now, we’re lost, Ariana. Lost. Are you willing to sacrifice the world in order to save your husband?”
“Yes!” she answered quickly, and then tears filled her eyes. “It’s not fair that you should even ask that question.”
“These days nothing is fair.” If someone as beautiful and good as Rayne had to be destroyed in order to save the world from the child she and Ciro might create, would that be fair? No. That meant he could not afford to lose. He could not allow Ciro to win in the days to come.
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