He watched her, his hand still in the slimy water, as she thrashed around. Suddenly, her face lit up. “Yqtos’ balls,” she gasped. “I think I…wait…” She frowned and lifted up her hands. Clenched between her fingers and dripping with water was a slim-coated frog with bulging eyes, its limbs hanging limp. She shrieked and dropped it back into the water, then giggled.
“Nice,” Jedren said.
“Shouldn’t have dropped it,” she said. “Could have been dinner.”
“I’m sure it would have been delicious.”
She wiped her hands on her dress.
In many ways, it was not the perfect moment. But Jedren couldn’t imagine a better one. “Would you like to marry me?” Jedren asked.
“All right,” she said, her fingers trailing through the water again.
His heart jumped, but she was so nonchalant she couldn’t have heard him correctly. “You’re sure?”
She clasped her wet hands in her lap and looked at him. “Yes.”
Jedren tried to work out what this meant. Did she want to marry him?
“Sorry,” she said. “It doesn’t matter much to me, and I can see it matters to you, so yes.”
His stomach hardened, and he looked away.
She reached out and placed a hand on his knee. “No, that’s not what I… I mean, whether we marry or not doesn’t matter to me.”
He stared down at her hand. A piece of seaweed clung to it. “Right.”
She sighed and shook her shoulders. “Argh. Sorry. That’s not what I… I mean…” She glanced around the small, deserted courtyard. “Do you remember when we first met?”
Of course he remembered. He remembered going to the sevant’s entrance with that delivery for her father. But it hadn’t been the cook who’d opened the door as usual. It’d been Kallia, looking livid, storming out the back door, carrying a kitchen knife which she’d hurled straight into a tree trunk.
“I bet that knife’s still there,” he said.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t kill you. I was mad enough to.” She took a deep breath, her cheeks red. “You were very nice about it.”
Jedren remembered trying to think of a single thing to say to this beautiful, distraught creature. He couldn’t remember what he’d said, only that he thought he’d stared at her a lot, and that he’d volunteered for every delivery at that home after that. Sometimes it had been Kallia at the door, often the cook, but more and more often Kallia, and they’d stood in that doorway talking longer and longer each time.
“As soon as I met you,” Kallia said, “I just knew.” She eyed him. “Sorry if that sounds insane.”
“Not at all.” Of course it didn’t. He’d felt exactly the same.
She scratched her shoulder. “So, whether we get married or not, as far as I’m concerned… I just want to be with you. Whatever we do after that… is just extra. You already know I’m crazy. You knew I was crazy from the first day I met you, and you stuck around. I guess that’s how I knew.”
Yes. That was the thing about Kallia. You knew exactly how she was feeling. He already, from that first moment, had felt like he knew her better than anyone else. And he’d sensed she felt the same way about him. Except now there was something she didn’t know. That no living person knew. And it marred this perfect thing, the only perfect thing he’d ever experienced in his life. He swallowed hard and looked at her.
“I love you, Kallia. And… I need to tell you…” The face of Arnold, right before he died, flashed across his mind. The look on Kallia’s face after he’d killed the four soldiers trailing them hit him. Would she stay with him as he murdered person after person? What would that do to her? No. He wasn’t going to put her in that position. He trailed off, turning back to look into the green, slimy water.
They were married in a simple ceremony in the temple, Jedren trying not too look too hard at the faces of any of the priestesses. They spent the rest of the afternoon and evening and night together alone in their room. Jedren was so happy he was almost able to forget about what he had to do.
After Kallia had fallen asleep, he lay on his back. Kallia’s bare arm was draped across his chest, the moonlight streaming in through the window. Should he sneak out again tonight? Burn the temple and destroy the shrines? Or would it be better to wait until they left town, wait until Kallia was asleep again, then double back? Except they would be a full day’s ride from this place by then. And what excuse could he possibly make for being gone for several hours?
Ever so gently, he picked her slim arm off his chest, tucked it under the covers, and slipped out of bed. He pulled on his pants and tunic, stepped into his boots, and, yet again, slunk out into the night.
What do you want, Yqtos? he wondered. Rubble? No answer came, no message from the black fist clenched around his heart. Fire, then. That was the simplest. Light still burned in the the belly of the temple. A basin of flames in the center of the white marble floor lit the high-ceilinged room. An old priestess sat, her head nodding over a scroll in her lap. Jedren took a step into the light and surveyed the room. Aside from the old priestess, it was empty.
In and out. Quick. Before anyone saw him. He grabbed the stub of a candle from an altar at the side of the room, in front of a large statue of Ava, trying to avoid looking into her kind face. Lighting it at the brazier, he cast about for something flammable. The walls were drapped with tapestries. These tapestries reached up to the beams in the ceiling. That should work.
He held the candle to the base of the largest tapestry, all red and gold, depicting Ava in a golden halo of light dispensing gifts to the supplicants who bowed before her, eyes closed, their faces ranging from peaceful to rapturous. It caught quickly, the flames licking up the dry fabric. In seconds the whole thing was ablaze, and the beam above it began to crack and catch.
Jedren moved for the door, but caught sight of the old lady, still blissfully asleep. Couldn’t she hear the noise? But maybe she was deaf. If she was, there’d be no warning until the searing heat hit her, and maybe she wouldn’t be able to move fast enough. What was another death, anyway? But no. He’d already fulfilled his requirement for the day.
He ran back, the heat already blasting against his skin, and scooped the old woman up. She started, but he was already running for the door. She screamed and struggled, but when she felt the heat, saw the ravenous flames, she stilled.
He helped her down, set her on her feet as soon as they reached the street. She stared, open-mouthed, at the flames leaping towards the sky.
“Thank you, boy,” she breathed, patting his arm and backing away. She shook herself. “The others, we must warn the others!” She took off at a run that was barely a hobble, heading for the back of the temple. She paused, looking back at him. “You go, I’m too slow.”
He hesitated. It was only an instant, but she caught it. Her eyes widened.
“You. You started this fire.” She turned and tried to run, but she’d only gone a few steps before he’d broken her neck and thrown her into the inferno. I’m sorry. But the words felt ever so slightly hollow. He’d only done what he’d had to do.
He turned and ran up the nearest street, surprised by just how loud the fire was. As he ran, he passed people running the other way, some carrying buckets. The screams joined the roar of flames. A great groaning crash came, sending sparks up into the black night sky.
The red glow behind him became larger and larger. That was too big, wasn’t it? Yqtos, I’m an idiot. The fire was spreading.
All the bells in the city were tolling out the alarm by the time he reached the inn. Without pausing to undress, Jedren pulled Kallia out of bed. She blinked at him and mumbled something confused.
“Come on, Kallia, we’ve got to go. There’s a fire.” He wrapped her cloak around her, gathering up their scattered belongings.
“Jedren, what’s—” He shook his head, cutting her off and pulling her towards the door.
Townspeople were rushing everywhere, yelling and screaming; the stre
ets were filled with smoke, the skies illuminated by flickering red lights. They found their remaining two horses, led them as quickly as they could through the streets and out of town, passing people carrying piles of their belongings as they went. When they were a safe distance away, they mounted and kicked up to a quick trot, the flames rising ever higher behind them.
All this time, Kallia said nothing. They rode and rode as the town burned to ash behind them.
They stopped in the grey light of early morning. Dark circles ringed Kallia’s eyes as they dismounted. She eyed Jedren’s clothes, then looked down at her own night shirt.
“You couldn’t have woken me up in time to get dressed, too?”
“I was… at the privy… when the alarm sounded.” I need to think of a new excuse. She’s going to think I have a bladder problem.
“And you got fully dressed for that?”
Why didn’t I think this through?
“Come on, Jed, I’m not an idiot.” Her hands were on her hips. “I am confused, though. You’re lying, clearly, but I have no idea about what.”
They were interrupted by the pounding of hooves. Kallia looked away from Jedren’s face, and her eyes widened.
A company of soldiers, six of them at least, all clad in matching uniforms, their buckles and swords and stirrups shining silver, galloped along the road towards them. Jedren gripped his horse’s reigns, pulled it further off the road, out of the way. Maybe they weren’t coming for him. Kallia didn’t move. She stood there, next to her horse, her night dress fluttering, watching them come.
The company clattered to a halt in front of her, the soldiers arrayed behind their captain, who looked surprisingly young. How old is he? Twenty? Even younger than Jedren, and clearly younger than the men behind him. He was tall, with a neat blond beard already speckled with grey in a way that contrasted strangely with his youth. He pulled off his helmet, revealing a completely bald head underneath, and hung it from a hook on his saddle. Leaning forward, he eyed Kallia and Jedren with sharp blue eyes.
“I am Captain Alydren, and you,” he said, pointing at Jedren, “are coming with us.”
“What for?” Kallia demanded, stepping forward.
“For starting last night’s fire in the temple of Ava. For the deaths of thirty people so far, that we know of.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Kallia snapped. “What indication do you have that it was him?”
“At least three witnesses. One saw him murder an old woman, a priestess, after she accused him.”
Kallia’s face went pale and she glanced at Jedren. Her eyes raked his face, and what she saw there must have been the truth because her hand went to her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” Jedren said, taking a step towards her. “I should have told you.”
Captain Alydren unsheathed his sword. “Lay down your weapon, put your hands on your head, and kneel.”
Jedren ignored him. He took another step towards Kallia.
“You guessed it was the gods who saved me. It was only one god. Yqtos. He let me come back, but he had conditions.”
The men shifted on their horses, one of them muttered something to another.
“What conditions?” Kallia breathed, her lips barely parted.
“That I kill one man per day.” Her eyelids flickered. I’m sorry.
“That I destroy every temple not in honor of him.” Her head lifted, tilted back. As he told her the truth, the tension drained out of him. She wouldn’t love him anymore, but he had done what he needed to do. He had protected her, and now he could let her go.
“And that I kill any dark-eyed man I meet.” A peace settled over him, and he almost smiled. I’m sorry, Kallia. I wanted so much more for us. But I’m happy to have done this for you, at least.
“That’s enough,” Alydren said. “Lay down your weapon now.”
Jedren pulled his sword from his scabbard and dropped the weapon. It clattered to the black stone beneath him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. You’re safe now, which was all I wanted. Whatever you want, I will do. I will go with these men, let them execute me for my crimes. I do deserve that.”
She stared at him, her eyes agonized. “Three days.”
“What?”
“That is what I have had with you. Three days.” A tear ran down her cheek.
The captain moved forward, and Jedren knelt obediently, his eyes locked on his wife.
The other soldiers closed in around him, their swords at the ready, and the captain bound his hands.
“How…” Kallia shook her head, her face pale. Little particles of ash from the burning city began to drift down around them.
“I’m sorry, Kallia. I should have told you right away. I should have come back, gotten you to safety, and left.”
She continued shaking her head. She was looking at the sky, the ground, anywhere but him.
The captain tied a second rope around Jedren’s waist and tossed it to one of his men, then a third and a fourth which he tossed to two more. The men backed up, pulling at Jedren from all angles, the captain in the lead, yanking him to his feet.
Craning his neck back over his shoulder, Jedren stared at Kallia, drinking in the sight of her for the last time, even as he was led away. She stood on the road, shaking, clenching and unclenching her fists.
He should have told her. He shouldn’t have let her find out like this.
“Wait!” She lunged forward; her arm lifted. The soldiers ignored her, but Jedren stopped immediately, turning back, even as the ropes dragged him on. His boots slipped on the road, but he remained standing.
Kallia broke into a sprint, crying and pushing her way through the soldiers who looked taken aback, moving to let her pass, but looking to their captain for how to handle this.
She bowled straight into Jedren. He turned to meet her, to bring his bound hands up to her to comfort her, but she shoved him hard. “Gods damn you, Jed!” she cried, then shuddered, realizing what she’d said. “I… I don’t know… but I’m not… I’m not ready for this to end.”
“Out of the way, miss,” the captain said. “Get back or we’ll take you in, too.”
“Yes,” she said, lifting her chin. “Take me in, too. Or, try.” She glared at Jedren. “If you let them execute you, I’ll kill you.”
That was all he needed. The black force around his heart roared to life. He yanked his body to the left, then immediately jerked back to the right, unseating two of the men who held him. In an instant he had driven his fist into the first man’s windpipe, taken his sword as he fell, and cut down the second man as he came for Jedren’s back. Kallia darted out of the way as the captain and the soldier in back wisely dropped their ropes.
The four remaining soldiers circled Jedren, who stood calmly in the center, the thrill of death pulsing through his veins.
“Look, captain,” one of the men said, pointing to the black veins that stood out across Jedren’s arms and neck. The man’s grip was shaky on his sword, the point quivering, even as it tracked the mass that used to be Jedren’s heart.
“Was all that you said true?” the captain asked, his eyes hard, never leaving Jedren’s face.
“It’d be a crazy thing to make up,” Jedren said.
“Did you hear how many people you killed? How many lives you’ve destroyed?”
“Yes.” Jedren saw an opening, but he waited. Let them come to him.
“That doesn’t bother you at all?”
It did, but he wasn’t going to admit it.
The captain turned to Kallia. “It doesn’t bother you, either?”
She bit her lip, chewing it so hard it looked like it was going to bleed, but she didn’t answer.
“You are both monumentally selfish,” the captain said.
I’m only doing what I have to. Jedren’s eyes left the captain’s, travelled down the length of the man’s body. Every belt buckle gleamed, his boots were perfectly polished, not a single hair was out of place, although his horse was lathered
in quickly-drying sweat. I bet you think it was easy, I doubt you’ve ever had to watch someone you loved be taken from you while the light fades from your eyes.
Alydren spurred his horse forward, straight for Jedren, who was forced to leap out of the way. The other soldier was there to meet him, coming from behind, but even as he swung for Jedren’s neck, Jedren had already spun around, ducked under the swing, and come up with a parrying blow that knocked the man from his horse. He fell hard on the rocky ground and lay still.
Of the three left, one took off at a gallop, back the way they’d come. The captain cursed at him, yelled after his retreating form, but the man didn’t slow. The captain cursed again, eyeing Jedren.
He sheathed his sword. “You know, all my life I’ve fought evil in all its forms, large and small. Most of what looks like evil actually isn’t. It’s ignorance, or fear, or thoughtlessness, or desperation. This is a little of all of those, but it’s something more, too. You, in this choice you’re making, are evil.” He turned his eyes to Kallia. “And you, too, miss. You’re just as bad. You let him go and he’ll give up. But if you keep wanting him around, you’re giving him all the justification he needs. Think about that. You’re trading a single day with him for another’s entire lifetime.”
She glared at him, her face hardening in defiance. “He’s worth it.”
Contempt hardened Alydren’s blue eyes. “I can see I can’t win here today, but, Numenos as my witness, I will be back. I will hunt you down. I will find you in whatever dark hole you try to crawl away into. And I will send you back to the god—or demon—you serve.”
Jedren lunged, but the captain was already galloping away. He moved to Kallia, but she was looking at something behind him. Jedren turned to see the last soldier, still on his horse. The man slowly climbed down and unsheathed his blade, his eyes locked on Jedren. He gently took the sharp end of the blade in his hand, holding the handle out to Jedren.
“My lord,” the man said. “My name is Ryn. My father is of the Dymri, where the only god we worship is the Black God.” He bowed his head. “Please accept my humble service.”
Death of the Immortal King Page 8