Balestone (13 page)

Chapter 17

Riding bareback was difficult. He knew how to hold the horse with his legs and match the motion of the animal, but the entire time he felt danger right behind him and couldn’t help but look over his shoulder in fear of seeing some horrid animal or the crazed old wizard running them down.

He wanted to ride faster, but he couldn’t go too fast with Olyva still unconscious and splayed across her horse’s back. They moved through the city streets at a cantor, the horses’ hooves echoing on the ruins of buildings and piles of rubble that lined the streets. The city was like a maze, and Rafe couldn’t tell where he was going. Some of the ruins were taller than the hills that surrounded the city, and Rafe doubled back more than once when the street ahead turned out to be blocked with debris from a toppled building.

The alleys were still shrouded in gloomy shadows, and the entire town was so quiet and so utterly empty that it made Rafe uneasy. He didn’t mind a fight and had virtually no fear of any man, yet he had seen creatures that were quick and powerful enough to kill or maim, especially since Rafe had lost his weapons.

It seemed like an eternity before Rafe finally spotted the open fields that lay beyond the ruins of the city. He sped up, feeling a surge of hope as he navigated the last few streets. The prairie beyond the town was a long, brown plain. The sky overhead was still gray, and the light filtering through seemed weak. Rafe guessed that Olvya needed the bright amber sunlight they had enjoyed with the Hoskali, but that was a lost hope so close to the mountains. He would have to leave Olyva alone and go back into the town to search for Rafe and Lexi. He didn’t relish that thought, but he knew what he had to do.

Once they were out of the ruins and moving briskly across the plain, Rafe looked slowly in every direction. He was watching carefully for any signs of movement, but there didn’t appear to be any living creature in sight. When he’d brought Olyva several hundred yards from the city, he stopped and slid off his horse. He helped Olyva down and sat her on the dirt-covered ground. He missed the green mossy grass and bright amber sky. He wished he still had a blanket to lay her on, but he had to settle for laying her on the dirt.

Her eyes fluttered, and she groaned. Rafe waited patiently, hoping that she would come around. He wished he had water to give her, but their supplies were still in the building where they had tried to take shelter. He guessed he could find that building again, but he didn’t know if he had time.

He jumped onto his horse and rode back toward the ruins. Mars didn’t seem to mind Rafe riding bareback, but the horse wasn’t trained for war. It had grown accustomed to being ridden, but the horse was not fast or sure-footed. Rafe studied the buildings and found the one he thought to be correct. He was relieved when he saw the remnants of the fire in front of the building. He dismounted and hurried inside. The interior was gloomy and smelled of smoke, but their packs were just where they’d left them, as were their saddles. Rafe snatched up his saddle and quickly arranged it on his horse’s back. He pulled the straps tight and then gathered up their packs.

Climbing into the saddle was the first thing that had felt right since they had first come into the ruined city. Rafe rode back out to Olyva and dismounted. He used a water skin to dribble water into Olyva’s mouth. She didn’t move, and Rafe wanted to shout in despair. Then an idea struck him. He hated the very thought of it, but he turned to Olyva’s feet and poured water across her thick, scaly toes. She wiggled her feet, and her toes burrowed down into the wet ground. Rafe poured more water across her feet, and Olyva’s eyes opened.

“You’re awake,” he said with such relief that his voice cracked.

“That feels so good on my feet,” she said.

He poured a little more water then set the skin down beside her. He took her hand and looked at her.

“What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

“We were tricked,” Rafe said. “The old man was a wizard. He enchanted us with a sleeping spell and then locked us in irons. I barely got you out, but I have to go back for Ti.”

“Oh, Rafe, of course you must. But be careful.”

“I will, my love. I swear it. I’ll rescue Tiberius and Lexi, and we’ll leave this accursed place.”

“I’ll wait for you here.”

“If you see anyone but the three of us coming out of that city, don’t wait. Ride away as fast as you can. Ride north until you’re safe. I’ll find you.”

“I will,” Olyva said, stroking Rafe’s face with her hand. “I’ll be waiting.”

Rafe nodded, wanting to say more but knowing he didn’t have time. He turned to his horse and stepped up into the saddle.

“Can you saddle your horse?” he asked.

He had carried her saddle back with him, along with their supplies. She nodded, and he kicked his horse into motion. The horse retraced its steps back to the building where the other two saddles were waiting. Rafe dismounted but he didn’t go to the saddles. Just inside the gaping hole that had once been a door, a spear was leaning against the wall. They had taken the other two spears with them as they followed the old man the night before, but the third remained. With a spear in his hand, he immediately felt more prepared for whatever he might face.

He went back to his horse and climbed into the saddle. Now all he had to do was find the tower again. He wished he could follow his tracks back to the tower, but the powdery dirt held no traces of his passing. Standing in the stirrups, Rafe tried to see the top of the tower. The structure was only as tall as a two-story building, and many of the ruins around him were taller than that. Rafe guessed an hour had passed before he finally saw the tower. He had to wind his way through several streets to finally reach it, and when he did, he saw two dogs pacing anxiously just outside the tower door.

Rafe guessed the dogs were trying to find a way into where the other two horses waited. He watched the two animals for several minutes before deciding what to do. He could charge the dogs, but that would be a noisy approach, and the dogs would probably just scatter. Instead, Rafe rode back a short distance, then dismounted where the dogs couldn’t see him. Rafe wrapped his horse’s reins around the post, so that the horse would stay put unless it was frightened — then it would be able to pull free and escape.

“Don’t leave me unless you have to,” he told the animal as he stroked its forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

He then walked back toward the tower, his spear held ready. He was still fifty yards away from the dogs when they turned and watched him approaching. He could see their hackles standing up as they tensed for action. Rafe kept moving, holding the spear low in front of him.

The dogs attacked together, both racing forward at the same time. Rafe braced himself and waited, holding the spear low and to his right side. When the dogs jumped toward him, covering the last ten feet in a split second, Rafe swung his spear. The metal edge tore down the closest dog’s flank, and the powerful blow slammed the wounded dog into the other. Both animals fell in a tangle as blood soaked into the powdery dirt.

Rafe didn’t wait for the animals to recover; instead he dashed forward, stabbing his spear down into the second dog’s neck. The animal died instantly, as blood spurted up the blade. Rafe jerked his weapon free and turned back to the first animal, but the dog was crawling away, his belly dragging in the dirt and its intestines bulging through the gash in its side.

Rafe turned back to the tower and was hurrying forward when he heard a strange but familiar sound. It was a steady thump, thump, thump that Rafe had heard all his life. It was the sound of an army marching, but there was something different about the sound, as well. Each thump had a strangely metallic clang, almost as if the army were marching across a metal bridge.

Rafe couldn’t help but feel optimistic at the thought of an army approaching. Surely, he thought, they would help him. Then the lead warriors came into sight. It was not the welcome scene Rafe had hoped for. The soldiers weren’t human, but rather living bronze statues.

They immediately began to spread out to surround the tower, and Rafe knew that if he made a run for it, he could escape the trap they were setting. His mind wavered but then settled on a course of action. With his decision made, he felt a sense of peace. He stepped into the tower and picked up the thick locking beam and dropped it into place. He had come back into the city to help Tiberius, and even though he wasn’t sure where his friend was, he felt certain that Ti hadn’t summoned the bronze warriors.

“What are you doing?” Tiberius said, sticking his head up through the trap door.

“I’m here to rescue you,” Rafe said with a smirk.

“Then why are you locking us in?”

“Because,” Rafe said, “we can’t escape that way.”

Chapter 18

It was midnight, and Leonosis struggled to lift the lifeless body of yet another earl. He was tired, and even though Draggah’s will kept him moving, Leonosis felt the aches and pains of carrying the dead earls down into the hidden chamber where Draggah was preparing his arcane ritual.

“Do you know what this room was?”
the voice inside Leonosis’ head asked.

“No,”
Leonosis replied honestly.

“Of course you don’t. I know every secret in that pathetic mind of yours. Every plot to oust your brothers from your life. The temptation you’ve had to smother your father over the years. The lust in your heart for power and women and wanton destruction. We are not so different, my pet. In time you will see all your wishes fulfilled.”

“I don’t want any of those things now.”

“Of course you do. You think I am usurping your rightful place, but your pathetic plan was doomed to failure. Your brother is more of a threat than you realize.”

Leonosis dropped the corpse of Earl Marcus of Hamill Keep on the floor. He stretched his back and then trudged back up the steps. He resented the demon who so often took control of him. Yet when there was difficult labor, Draggah found other things to occupy himself with, only leaving enough of his mind in Leonosis’ body to torment the young noble.

“Leave my family out of this,”
he said.

“I have no plans for your family to be brought into it, but you have a meddlesome offshoot. You should have killed him when you had the chance.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You see, that’s why you need me. No real foresight. It is the downfall of your kind. Anything that you cannot see or grasp becomes unreal to you. You can’t believe in it or plan for it, but I can. I can see your brother and his pathetic band of friends. He grows stronger. If he were allowed to reach us here, it could disrupt our aims.”

“You mean Tiberius?”

“Yes, the wizard. He too hungers for power, but of a different kind than you. In many ways he is superior.”

“Shut up!”

A pain lanced through Leonosis’ head, followed by a deep chuckle.

“So foolish. Now complete your task and listen. Your brother seeks ancient knowledge and longs for justice. Those two ambitions are dangerous. We must be ready when he reappears.”

“Tiberius is dead. I exiled him.”

Leonosis didn’t really believe that Tiberius was dead, but he didn’t like to think of Draggah hurting any of the people in Leonosis’ life, not even a brother he’d so easily cast off like excess baggage.

“Don’t be naive — your brother lives. I have devoted much time to watching for him. He is busy beneath the mists but soon he will return, and I have no doubt he will strike at us.”

Leonosis hoped what Draggah said was true. He hoped that Tiberius would find a way to slay the demon. Such thoughts brought Leonosis to his knees in agony, but he held tight to his vengeful fantasies. The hatred in his heart for the wicked creature who now ruled him was the last shred of independence that remained in Leonosis.

“Bring me the final corpse! There is much to be done.”

Leonosis used the master key that Princess Ariel had provided and unlocked the door to Earl Chasar’s rooms. There was an open expanse before the room was divided into two sleeping chambers. Earl Chasar was slumped in an overstuffed chair by the fireplace. His crystal goblet was shattered on the floor beside his chair. The poison took several hours to kill, the effect sped along by food. The earls had drunk their wine and been brought a lavish meal, only to nod off quickly. Then, while they slept, their hearts would suddenly stop beating. Many of the earls had soiled themselves in death, several having died with servants or wives in their beds with them. Draggah did not care who else died, and several attendants or counselors would have to be disposed of eventually. For now, Leonosis was sent for the earls, and he carried each one through the empty corridor and down the narrow hidden stairwell.

“This room was once a furnace,”
Draggah went on as Leonosis returned with the final earl’s body.
“A chimney leads up to the top of the castle. It’s been blocked off for centuries, but now we shall open it.”

Leonosis looked up, seeing into the darkness. He couldn’t see what Draggah saw, but he could just make out the dark tunnel leading up and out of the hidden room.

“Servants kept a fire burning here day and night. The fire warmed the castle quite efficiently, but some of the servants died down here tending to the furnace. Sometimes the heat was so intense their skin melted away before they could reach the bottom of the stairwell with more fuel for the fire. A soft-hearted king had the chimney blocked up and the fire extinguished. I will not be so sentimental.”

Leonosis raised his hand, and his mouth uttered words that were foreign to the young noble. Stone and wood blasted up out of the narrow tunnel, racing high into the night sky before raining back down on the castle. Leonosis waited with Draggah as the debris fell. The demon took great delight in the terror of the soldiers guarding the castle who witnessed the falling debris.

Then Leonosis turned to Princess Ariel, who had carefully arranged the bodies of the earls in a circle, with their heads turned inward where a brazier was full of red hot coals. Leonosis looked up and could just see the moon drifting through the night sky directly overhead. It was a full moon, shining brightly and casting a silvery light down the long chimney shaft. For several moments no one spoke. The room where the corpses were laid out was as quiet as a tomb, but there was a sense of anticipation, as if something powerful were building in the old furnace.

“It is time,” Draggah said, speaking through Leonosis, once the light from the moon shone down the long chimney shaft. “Your blood, if you please, Princess.”

It was not a request, and Ariel drew a long, narrow dagger. It was a kingly blade, well wrought with intricate designs and tiny gemstones. The metal was silver with gold at the center. The dagger would have been useless in a fight or even carving one’s dinner, but it cut through the princess’s flesh easily enough.

She flinched as she sliced her forearm. Blood dripped onto the embers and sizzled. Leonosis was shoved back into the recesses of his mind as Draggah’s attention was fixed on the ritual. The spell was long and demanding. Ariel joined in, chanting the strange words as Leonosis was left powerless to do anything but watch. Then the rending took place as Draggah severed a tiny bit of himself to animate the earls’ bodies.

One by one the men began to breathe, their bodies moved, and their eyes once again gazed upon the world of the living. But their hearts did not beat; their organs did not function. Their lungs filled with air only so they could speak. They were like dolls, still in the shapes of men, but not really alive. The decay of their corpses was held in check by Draggah’s powerful will.

“Rise, my friends,” Draggah said, and for the first time Leonosis felt the demon’s hold over him waver. But just as quickly Draggah regained his composure. “You will return to your rooms. Dispose of your dead quietly and wait for my instruction in the days ahead.”

Leonosis was in awe as the earls each got to their feet and walked quietly out of the hidden room, following the long winding staircase.

“Is that all?” Princess Ariel asked.

She was holding her arm and waiting for permission to return to her rooms, where she could heal the wound and rest.

“For now,” Draggah said through Leonosis. “Soon we celebrate your wedding. Then the King will die, and Leonosis will be made High King of Valana.”

The look on Ariel’s face was of pure hatred. Draggah laughed, and the deep chuckle sounded strange to Leonosis’ ears as the demon laughed in his voice.

“You promised me that I would rule,” she hissed. “You swore that if I summoned you to this world, you would reward me with power beyond imagining.”

“And you shall have it, my pet.”

“I’m not your pet.”

“And I am not yours!” shouted Leonosis. “Do not forget with whom you speak.”

“I only want what is mine.”

“Have I not left you with a free will? Have I not taken instead this body for my own? You will rule by my side and you will be feared above all people.”

“Swear it — swear by your blood.”

“My blood?” Draggah said in an icy voice.

“Your blood. You have blood now. And flesh and bone. I have bled for you this night. Now bleed for me.”

Draggah laughed and snatched the blade from Princess Ariel’s hand. Then he sawed off Leonosis’ pinky. Leonosis screamed, and Draggah roared, then he thrust the bloody stump into the embers to cauterize the wound. The pain was the worst Leonosis had ever felt, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. The smell of burned flesh made him nauseous, and the pain made his vision waver. He felt his knees begin to buckle as he toppled to the floor. Draggah had pulled away, letting Leonosis bear the brunt of the pain.

Before Leonosis passed out, he saw Princess Ariel holding fast to the pinky he had just severed. She held it like a trophy, letting the blood drip into the embers of the brazier to sizzle and smoke. And finally Leonosis faded away into blissful oblivion.