The Warrior's Curse

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The Warrior's Curse Page 13

by Jennifer A. Nielsen


  “What is the strategy, my king?” Edgar called. “We are here to kill Lord Endrick, are we not?”

  “No,” I said, and this was the test. If I was going to lose them again, this was where it would happen and I would not win their attention a second time. “There is only one person who can kill Lord Endrick, and that is the Infidante.”

  “I told you all, and you wouldn’t listen,” Reese, the former commander of the cavalry, said, walking out of the stables. “His marriage to Harlyn Mindall is a fraud. He is in love with Kestra Dallisor.”

  I poured another cup of cider but held it in my hands. “You’re correct. Harlyn and I are not married. She told you that to get you this far, but I am telling you the truth now. Whether you remain here depends on your ability to trust what I am about to say: Not one of us anywhere within the land of Antora has the ability to kill Lord Endrick. Only the Infidante can do it. So we can help her succeed, or we can get in her way. There are no other choices, and the consequences of failure are severe.”

  “We came to help her,” Reese said, stepping into the circle near the fire. “But my question for you is, what happens after Endrick is dead? Who will sit on the Scarlet Throne?”

  “The Scarlet Throne belongs to the Halderians,” I said, looking Reese directly in the eye. “No one else can be allowed to have it after Endrick is dead.” Then I offered him the cup of cider.

  He stared at me for a long moment, then finally nodded as if satisfied with my answers. Reese took the cup and raised it in the air. “A toast to my king and yours! May the coming battle be full of glory!”

  A cheer followed, but it was quickly muffled when Gabe rode up, out of breath and with a torn sleeve near his shoulder. Beneath it was a deep scratch.

  “Harlyn is gone; they took her,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “The Dominion. We’ve got to get her back.” Gabe’s wide-eyed expression was full of panic. “Kestra and Joth were there too, on their way to the palace.”

  I turned to Amala. “I’m afraid that I must ask you to cede leadership for now.” She nodded, and I said to Reese. “Commander, prepare your riders and horses to leave within the hour. I will notify the others gathered here that the time has come. Tonight will mark the end of Lord Endrick and the Dominion.” Then I glanced up at Gabe. “And we will get Harlyn back. Go wake Tenger.”

  Less than an hour later, I sat astride my horse at the front of a long line of Alliance soldiers. To my right were one hundred soldiers of the Halderian cavalry. At my left were about twice the number of Coracks, with Tenger at my side. Directly behind me were five hundred Reddengrad soldiers, some on horseback and some on foot. Behind them all were a thousand Brillian soldiers, determined to have their revenge against Lord Endrick. They had been working day and night in hopes of finding a defense against Joth’s powers. I hoped they were ready.

  And not one of us would be of any use if Kestra failed tonight. I hoped she knew what she was doing.

  Lord Endrick’s palace was the highest on the hills of Highwyn, situated so that it had an easy view of the city and of the surrounding land of Antora. Woodcourt was only a little lower, and as Joth and I came closer, we saw signs of activity from below. The Alliance was on the move.

  “They expect to join us in the battle,” I said to him.

  “They’re of no use to us.” Joth was still staring at our road ahead. “We must stay with our plan.”

  “Our plan involved Darrow.” I glanced back once more, as I had done already a thousand other times. “Where is he? Do you suppose—”

  “He will come if he is able to.” Joth’s tone was cooler than usual, which hardly made me feel better. “We’re better off without him anyway. Are you ready?”

  I put my hand on the Olden Blade. “Ready.”

  As we had seen from our upper-floor lookout deeper within the city, Endrick’s palace was surrounded by what I assumed was his entire Ironheart army. If Simon’s sister was still alive, then she would be in there, somewhere. Thousands of soldiers stood at attention, heavily armed, and fully aware that to fail here would mean an instant death sentence. Endrick had control of the hearts of every single person here.

  He’d once controlled mine. I knew how they must have felt, compelled to obey, terrified that a single wrong move might prompt a squeeze on the heart, or worse.

  “Promise me that the half-lives will not kill them all,” I said.

  “Only those who get in your way.” Joth offered me his hand, and I took it. His flesh was warmer than before. He squeezed on my fingers, then asked, “Do you feel the magic in me?”

  “I do.”

  “As I feel yours. I will do my part from out here, but once you are inside, if there is anything you need, I will sacrifice my safety for yours, and if necessary to protect you, I will sacrifice everyone out here. You are the priority now.”

  I nodded, hearing an echo of Simon’s voice from ages ago, that he would die for me. Joth had just forced the same obligation upon every living thing between me and Endrick. I hoped they were all smart enough to move out of my way.

  Joth kissed my fingers, then released my hand as we heard rumbling noises coming from farther down the hill, from Woodcourt. Teams of horses and foot soldiers raced toward us.

  “They are coming,” I said.

  Joth cursed. “They’ll ruin everything! You’d better go now!”

  I withdrew the Olden Blade and kicked my horse into action. The instant I came into view of the palace, I heard shouts of my name and orders for the Ironhearts to stand their ground. I only sped up, fully aware of the weapons being drawn, the pikes aimed toward my heart, and the disk bows being loaded with every intention of killing me.

  I rode faster, passing through the palace gates into a wide courtyard surrounded by tall rock walls. As soon as I crossed the gates, the first disk flew. Immediately, I felt a rush of wind around me, headed toward the Ironhearts. It wasn’t cold like the night air, nor clear like wind should be. Instead, it was the color of wispy summertime clouds, but with a soft glow that lingered after it had passed. And it stopped the disk.

  No, they stopped the disk. These were the half-lives, going before me in battle. I saw only the faint glimmers of light they left behind, though I doubted the Ironhearts could see even that much. Everything happened so fast, they probably saw nothing at all. The half-lives’ attack was like a broom sweeping across Endrick’s lands, flattening everything in their path.

  Tears creased my eyes. This was not what I had agreed to, but I could not stop now.

  I rode across the courtyard as fast as I could, keeping myself close to their wave, ignoring everything around me but the doors to the palace itself.

  A long series of wide stairs rose to the entrance. I charged my horse up the steps and whispered out orders to the half-lives to open the doors. They did more than that; somehow the two large doors at the center of the landing were ripped from their frames and flung out on either side of me, landing far down on the ground below. I rode inside, then dismounted, my Olden Blade in hand.

  Where would Endrick be?

  The palace was square shaped with a large reception area inside the doors. From what I recalled on my few visits here, the east wing was for official state business. My adopted father, Sir Henry, often met with Endrick in the rooms there. The west wing held Endrick’s private rooms, and straight ahead were the servants’ quarters. At the top of the grand staircase directly ahead of me was Endrick’s throne room.

  It would take hours to thoroughly search the palace. Endrick could be anywhere here.

  Of greater interest was that the palace appeared to be empty. I could not understand that. Lord Endrick kept a full staff of servants, and there was always a bustle of activity from members of the Dominion clamoring for his mercy, or attention, or reprisal on some uprising or another.

  Where was everyone?

  At least I knew that Endrick was still nearby. Joth had ordered the half-lives to watch the palace since we h
ad arrived in Highwyn. If Endrick had attempted to leave, we would have known. Nor did I expect any escape. He had defeated me once and would believe he could do so again. His pride would not allow him to fear me.

  But he would, very soon.

  With no choice other than to search room by room, I began opening doors, beginning with the servants’ quarters. At the first open door, my earlier questions were answered. The half-lives must have come through the rooms already, for I saw the scattered bodies of servants lying on the floors, having fallen while mid-action.

  I crouched down to feel a faint pulse of a woman who must have been sweeping when the half-lives found her. Her broom had lodged against the wall, and her body had folded over the handle, placing her in a most uncomfortable position. I lowered the broom to allow her to lie flat on the ground, then realized I had inadvertently drawn strength from her.

  Something deep within me suggested I could take all I wanted, and I should. This room had a dozen servants in it, all of them alive enough to be of use to me.

  Take their strength. You’ll be stronger. The suggestion in my head was louder than my own thoughts. Or perhaps those thoughts had been mine, and some part of me wanted to finish the job the half-lives had begun.

  Recoiling at the possibility, I hurried onward but hadn’t even reached the next room before the thoughts returned, louder and angrier. This time they scolded me for not having drawn strength while I could. I had to kill Endrick, didn’t I? And these servants worked for him, making them legitimate targets.

  “I won’t do that,” I whispered, and with those words, my breath locked in my throat. I grabbed my neck, as if that would allow me to breathe again, but nothing released until I was close to passing out.

  Desperate for air, I fell to my knees, directly in front of a guard the half-lives had visited.

  Take him.

  For the first time, I realized how the corruption worked. If I would not use magic to feed the poison, it would feed off me, and it was doing so now, forcing me to use my magic.

  I had believed that I was in control of the corruption, but now I understood the very opposite was true—the corruption was stronger than me, and only a fraction of how strong Lord Endrick would be.

  I felt the pulse of this guard. Despite his unconscious state, it was strong and regular, so he would recover. And when I looked at his face, I immediately recognized him from my time in the dungeons. He had threatened me and might have carried through on those threats if Simon had not been there. Later, he had nearly beaten Simon to death.

  The longer I stared at him, the more I was convinced that it was the right thing to take strength from this man. I needed it, and he had only used his strength for cruelty.

  I took from him, without guilt or shame. I left him enough that he would eventually recover, but what I took made me far stronger than before. Perhaps I needed that, for I left that room with even greater confidence that when I found Endrick, I would be ready for anything he might do.

  I took strength again in the kitchen, growing in power, absorbing the cold from every corner of the room. I exhaled and saw the frost in my breath, and it warmed me to see it. I redoubled my grip on the Olden Blade, anxious to use it, eager to be finished with my quest.

  Wanting to kill Endrick.

  I no longer dreaded it, no longer cowered at the thought of my blade piercing his gut, spilling his blood.

  He was evil. He had murdered thousands of Antorans for his power, including my own mother, and many other people I had cared about once. And he would continue to do so for as long as he reigned.

  I moved faster through the rooms, my hunger to find Endrick growing stronger with each step. When I did, I would make him pay for his crimes.

  At last, I had searched every room on the main floor of the palace. There was only one place left, the throne room. It was the worst possible location for him to defend himself; hence why it was the last place I’d looked for him. At best, he was a fool to be in there.

  Which made me nervous. Endrick was no fool. He was in that room for a reason.

  In the daytime, the room was brightly lit thanks to the large panel of windows along one entire wall. But this late at night, those windows only made this room seem darker than it otherwise might have been, and I suspected Lord Endrick preferred things that way.

  My eyes immediately flew to the center of the throne room. A tall dais was there, surrounded on all sides by six steps. At the top of it, Endrick sat upon the Scarlet Throne.

  Soon, it would be my throne.

  He had seen me too, for he leaned forward, resting both elbows on his knees. Despite the darkness, I was certain he was smiling.

  A smile from Lord Endrick was far more terrifying than a frown, for it deepened the many lines and scars in his face, each one created by someone he had killed on his road to power. To hide his visage, he usually wore a mask in public, but today, it was only him. And although he obviously knew I was coming, he had not bothered to protect himself with armor. I considered that an insult.

  And a great worry, for he should have been at least a little concerned. His apparent eagerness to see me set my mind off balance.

  I heard a cough, and my gaze fell to the bottom of the steps, upon a figure on her knees, facing away from me.

  Harlyn.

  Her head was lowered, and a sword was clutched in her hands. As far as I could tell, no physical harm had come to her … yet. But no doubt, Endrick had control of her heart and he would use her against me.

  Indeed, as I came closer, he stood and smiled. “It was a mistake to come, Kestra. But since you are here, I would like a demonstration of your abilities. Let us begin.”

  Whatever Kestra and Joth had intended in their attack upon Endrick’s palace, it seemed to be working. Because of the dark night, I was nearly at the palace before I saw the Ironheart bodies, already covered by a thin layer of snow. Death’s blanket.

  I shouted immediate orders for a search to be conducted for Rosaleen, or for any other Alliance members. I could not bear to do the search myself. I hardly could tolerate riding through it.

  Until this moment, I had known they were capable of terrible things, including what I’d seen them do to the smaller group of Ironhearts before. But I’d also hoped that would have shocked Kestra back into the reality of how quickly and deeply she had descended. Instead, she must have embraced it. I only hoped at the end of this, she’d be successful as Infidante. That at least would be some small justification for what I was seeing.

  At the end of the row of the fallen, Joth sat alone astride his horse at the entrance to the palace gates, hands casually crossed in front of him, waiting for us. That concerned me.

  So I raised a hand to call our soldiers to halt, then rode forward alone.

  “Is she inside?” I asked.

  Joth nodded. His eyes were heavy on me, unyielding.

  “Alone?”

  He shrugged, a half smile on his face. “Depends on how you define that word.”

  “The people Endrick cursed in the forest, are they with her?”

  His smile faded into a grimace. “Yes, some of them.”

  Then the rest were out here, probably surrounding him right now, though I couldn’t see or feel their presence.

  “Let us help.”

  He snorted. “You are mice attempting to help a giant. At best, your help is interference.”

  “We want the same thing you do.”

  “And what is that?” Joth laughed aloud. “Or who is that? I’m afraid you are too late to have any chance with her again. Kestra has connected her powers with mine, which will connect her heart with mine in ways you’ll never comprehend. When her quest is complete, I will finish my own quest, and rule upon the Scarlet Throne, finally providing a home for my displaced people.” He chuckled again. “So I suppose you are correct: We do want the same thing. But I do not need your help to get what I already have.”

  He raised his hand in a gesture toward me, and I felt the
energy of some invisible force rushing toward me. I began to race my horse away from it, shouting, “Now!”

  The distraction had worked. While Joth had talked with me, the Brill had moved into position, armed not with disk bows or swords, but with instruments all tuned to the same piercing frequency. Drawing bows along their strings, the hum was loud and vibrated into my heart, causing an ache that made me clutch at my chest, but at the same time, the invisible force of the half-lives had ceased to press upon me.

  I gestured for the cavalry and the Coracks to ride forward, which they did, though the riders appeared to be in some degree of pain from the relentless vibrations. We pushed through it, directly past Joth, who sat helpless as he tried to adjust to the realization that his half-lives could not function as long as the vibrations were playing.

  “Stop this!” he shouted. “You will not help her this way!”

  Finally, Joth rode toward us with such fury in his eyes that I knew whatever happened next would be bad. At least his focus was on us and not on his half-lives.

  “Go with your cavalry.” Eying me, Tenger crossed his horse directly in front of Joth’s, the Coracks lining up behind him.

  Joth called to Tenger, “You should not challenge me, Captain.”

  “Perhaps not.” Tenger straightened up in his saddle. “But I am a captain here. Which means I will die if necessary to protect my rebels.”

  “As you wish.”

  While Joth rode toward Tenger, Tenger shouted at me again to leave. I rode around them and into the walled courtyard, calling to the others that our priority was to get inside the palace.

  However, unexpectedly we met with resistance. Inside these walls, the vibrations lost their intensity, so the half-lives must have had some force here. I dismounted, and using my right forearm, I was able to push through the barrier, allowing Gabe and Trina through, but the gap closed behind us.

  I looked back at where we’d come from, trying to understand what had changed. “The vibrations didn’t get past the walls.”

  “They were supposed to, the Brill were sure of it.” Gabe frowned. “Maybe there are no more vibrations.”

 

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