Balestone (19 page)

“But you can’t foresee it?” Ariel said.

“I can predict it — that is good enough.”

“What is it?”

“The Balestone is moving,” Draggah said, almost giddy. “And soon it will be mine.”

The laughter was maniacal and frightening. Leonosis didn’t know what the Balestone was and he didn’t want to know. In that moment he wanted to die. He wanted the pain and fear to be over, but there was no way to stop his misery. He was firmly in Draggah’s clutches, and for the newly crowned King of Valana, there was no escape.

Chapter 26

Tiberius’ legs felt like they were on fire. He had convinced Rafe to stop for a brief rest. They had scaled the easiest part of the mountain, scrambling up the rough edges until they were at last at the nearly vertical cliff face. Luckily there was a crack in the rock face large enough for them crawl up. It would be much safer than trying to climb the cliff’s outward face, but it would still be a difficult and taxing ascent.

“How is she?” Tiberius asked.

“No change,” Rafe said. “I feel like I’ve failed her.”

“You haven’t, you’ll see. Once she gets some sunlight, she’ll be okay.”

“We probably should have left her with Lexi and gone up to scout the situation,” Rafe said. “I’m just afraid she’s going to die and I won’t be with her.”

“Why would she die?” Tiberius asked, trying to sound upbeat and hopeful, but failing.

“Don’t play dumb, Ti,” Rafe growled. “We both know what we’re facing here.”

“That’s true, but let’s be honest. Did you really think we’d last this long in the blighted lands?”

“No,” Rafe admitted.

“So, now that we’ve done the impossible, let’s not give up hope.”

“She’s so thin,” Rafe said.

“She’s changed, but she isn’t dying.”

“You don’t know that,” Rafe said.

“You don’t know, either. All I’m saying is that I have faith in us. We’ve accomplished a lot. There’s no need to think we can’t do more.”

“You really believe that?”

“Yes,” Tiberius said adamantly. “I absolutely do.”

“All right, let’s get her to the top of this damn mountain.”

The climb up the cliff face was arduous. They were forced to stop several times to rest. There were areas where Tiberius would squeeze through a tight place or climb past an obstruction so that Rafe could pass Olyva up to him. They pulled her along, carrying her as much as possible and trying not to look down. The crack in the cliff face was well worn, and Tiberius guessed that animals had made frequent use of the crack over many years. When they finally reached the mists, both men felt a swell of hope. They were drawing nearer to their goal, and Tiberius hoped desperately that they were in the right place.

It was late in the day when the mists finally parted. They were still crawling along the crack that Tiberius had taken to calling the goat track when they could suddenly see the mists giving way. Tiberius tried to look up, but there was no way to see what lay above them. They continued on, the track keeping them on the eastern side of the mountain, which was veiled with shadow, but they could see the blue sky. And when twilight came, they marveled to see stars again.

“We better stop for the night,” Tiberius said. “It won’t do us any good to fall now.”

“What do you think is up there?” Rafe asked as he leaned back against the mountainside.

They were in a small but stable spot on the goat trail. It was flat and large enough that they could stretch their legs out to rest. Tiberius had carried one pack with some water, enough rations for three days, and a thick blanket. He pulled out some of the strips of dried meat and handed them to Rafe.

“Hamill Keep, maybe,” he said. “I can’t say for sure, but one thing is certain: we’ll get plenty of sunshine come morning. We’re facing east — the sun should be right in our faces.”

“I hope you’re right,” Rafe said around a mouthful of dried meat.

Their food was tough, and they were forced to tear off chunks then suck on the leathery food until it was soft enough to chew. Tiberius was sick of it, but it filled their stomachs, and he didn't complain.

They slept easily enough, keeping Olyva between them and sharing the blanket. It was cold high up on the mountain, and they slept fitfully. Late in the night, bad weather rolled in, and thick clouds covered the stars. When dawn finally broke, the day was dreary, gray, and wet. A cold drizzle was falling, and thick clouds blocked the sunlight Tiberius had been hoping for.

“Damn it!” Rafe said. “What else could possibly go wrong?”

“Let’s not think about that,” Tiberius said, peering over the ledge at the mist that lay below them. “All we can do now is get to the top and see if we’re in the right place.”

“Fat chance of that,” Rafe said irritably.

But Rafe was wrong. The goat trail came out onto at small pinnacle, and above them rose the treacherous peak. Hamill Keep was built like a crown on the very top of the mountain. There were tunnels that ran down into the mountain from inside the city, but none that came out onto the surface. The wind was cold and blowing hard.

“So what now?” Rafe asked.

“We have to get up there somehow,” Tiberius said.

“How?”

“I don’t know, but I’m certain it can be done. How else could people get here?”

“I wonder if any of them did it with another person on their back?” Rafe said.

“You could stay here with her,” Tiberius suggested. “I could go up and get help.”

They could see the walls of the city high above them. To Tiberius they looked like the crooked teeth of an elderly person.

“I can do it,” Rafe said.

“Alright, let’s go then. I’m ready for a warm fire and some mulled wine.”

“Better make mine ale,” Rafe said. “And a soft loaf of bread, with toasted cheese and maybe a hot stew.”

They climbed slowly, careful of each hand- and foothold on the wet rocky mountainside. The ascent wasn’t straight up, but it almost felt like that to Tiberius. He had no idea how Rafe could do it with Olyva over his shoulder, but he never faltered. It took almost two hours to reach the bottom of the wall.

“Do we keep climbing?” Rafe asked.

“Surely there’s a gate somewhere,” Tiberius said.

“You want to shimmy around and see?”

Tiberius nodded, and they set off. There was a tiny stub of rock around the bottom of the wall, barely as wide as Tiberius’ foot, but the wall itself was pitted and cracked, so they had an abundance of handholds. And shimmying sideways was easier than climbing up. They had to go to the west side of the mountain to find a gate. It was tall and made of heavy wood. Tiberius banged on the gate and shouted until a head appeared on the wall above them.

“Who’s that?” the man shouted. “No one’s out today.”

“We’re from Avondale,” Tiberius shouted back. “We have the earl’s daughter, Olyva. She’s ill.”

“Avondale? That’s not possible.”

“Let us in, we’ll explain.”

“No one comes into the city. Earl’s orders.”

“Not even his daughter?”

“Earl Marcus’ daughter was exiled from Avondale.”

“That’s right, we all were. Now let us in.”

“What’s your names?”

“Rafe Grentzson, and Tiberius Aegusson.”

The man disappeared, and after a short wait, they heard the heavy wooden locking beams being lifted. Rafe looked at Tiberius and smiled. Ti had no idea what type of reception they would receive in Hamill Keep, but at least they wouldn’t be left hanging on the side of the mountain.

Every muscle in Ti’s body hurt. He had pushed himself to his limits the day before and he didn’t think he could have lasted much longer. When the gate swung in, Tiberius took a shaky step forward. There were men with weapons just inside the gate. One lowered his spear and took Tiberius’ arm, helping him forward. Two other guards helped Rafe, and one looked at Olyva. Her body was changed, but her face was the same, and the soldier decided he recognized her, even though it had been many months since she had been sent to Avondale as Brutas’ betrothed.

The soldiers took Rafe’s sword and Ti’s staff, which he had fastened to the pack he carried over his shoulder. They were led up into the earl’s palace, which was spartan compared to Avondale’s palace. The large building was little more than a feasting hall, some spare rooms, and the noble’s residence. There was a crowd of people in the feasting hall, and the earl was sitting in judgement at the far end. At first Tiberius thought they would be taken straight to the earl, but instead they were sent to a small room, with two narrow beds and a small window that looked out over the city’s high wall.

“What’s this?” Rafe said, trying to keep his anger in check.

“You’ll wait here,” the guard said. “And you’ll keep quiet until the earl sends for you.”

“Why?” Rafe said.

“Doesn’t Earl Marcus want to see his daughter?” Tiberius asked.

“If that really is his daughter, he may want to see her,” the guard said. “But she disgraced His Highness’ family, and don’t you forget it. You won’t be getting a hero’s welcome for bringing her home.”

The man turned and stalked out, slamming the door behind him. Tiberius looked at Rafe, who was laying Olyva on one of the beds.

“Wish we had some dry clothes,” Rafe said.

“And a fire,” Tiberius added.

It was an hour before they heard a knock on the door, and then it was just a servant with coal for the small hearth. She gave Tiberius and Rafe distrustful looks, then went to start the fire. Tiberius almost offered to kindle fire for her but then remembered that magic was outlawed in the nine cities. The last thing he wanted was to frighten someone who might spread rumors and get them into even more trouble.

Rafe had removed Olyva’s wet clothes and covered her with blankets. The room had two small beds, a table with a chipped basin of water, and wooden straight-backed chairs. It was not a comfortable place, not even once the fire was burning, but Tiberius and Rafe didn’t complain. They stood by the fire and warmed themselves.

At midday food was brought to them: a pot of thin soup, hard crusted bread, and water. They took the food and thanked the servant, who eyed them suspiciously. Tiberius guessed that rumors had spread, at least through the earl’s palace, that outsiders had arrived. People claiming to have survived in the blighted lands were rare, and Tiberius’ father always sent them away. No one ever returned from the blighted lands, that fact was widely known … or possibly just maintained as a way to keep people in the cities. Tiberius had never heard of a person surviving in the blighted lands or returning after being exiled. He supposed that his father might have kept such occurrences a secret, but just like the servants of Hamill Keep, the men and women who served the earl’s family in Avondale were rabid gossips. Tiberius had never even heard a rumor of someone returning, and he suspected that they were considered frauds.

Tiberius and Rafe soaked their bread in the soup to soften it. Under normal circumstances both men might have turned up their noses at such common fare, but after weeks of travel and eating nothing but dried tamaka meat and mealy flat bread, the soup was very welcome.

They took turns napping through the afternoon until finally a healer arrived. It was an old man, with thick gray hair sprouting from his ears and a bulbous, red nose, but friendly eyes.

“I suppose you are the gentlemen from the blighted lands,” he said cheerfully. “You’ve caused quite a stir, I can tell you that.”

“I’m Tiberius, and this is Rafe.”

“Well, you got the names right,” the physician said. “But I delivered Lady Olyva. Took care of her when she had the sniffles as a child. I don’t expect you’ll slip one past me.”

“She’s … changed,” Tiberius said.

“Of course she is,” he said happily.

“She was under the influence of a Hosscum grove,” Rafe said.

“A what?”

“Sentient trees,” Tiberius said. “They changed her, and she’s not well.”

Olyva lay on the bed, the blanket pulled up to her chin. The healer touched her forehead with the back of his hand. Then he leaned down and looked at her closely. Rafe tried to stop the healer from uncovering her, but the old man insisted.

“She isn’t dressed,” Rafe said.

“I’ve seen her naked many times, my boy, and don’t worry — I’m too old to be wooed by young women. She looks very much like the earl’s daughter. Thinner, though.”

The physician pulled back the blankets and stared hard for a moment. Then he covered her up again and turned to leave.

“Aren’t you going to do something for her?” Rafe asked.

“I’m an old man,” the healer said. “I’ve seen every ailment known in the nine cities. I’ve never seen anything like that before. I wouldn’t know what to do. But it does support your story about the blighted lands.”

He left, humming happily, and Rafe looked distraught. He had hoped they might find help for Olyva in Hamill Keep, but so far they had only found disappointment. Tiberius didn’t know what to say, so he stayed silent as Rafe settled beside Olyva. It wasn’t long until there was another knock on the door. Tiberius opened the door, and a painfully thin woman with streaks of gray in her long hair rushed into the room.

“Ollie,” she said. “Oh, my baby, what have they done to you?”

“She’s alive,” Rafe said, staring down at his boots.

“Did you really cross the blighted lands?” the woman asked.

“We did,” Rafe replied.

The woman sat beside Olyva and stroked her hair. There were tears in her eyes, and Tiberius’ throat suddenly felt dry. He had maintained hope for Olyva until her mother arrived. Then the scene seemed all too real. She was dying, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Chapter 27

“The earl has asked to see you alone,” the servant said.

Tiberius had expected as much. His own father had always been snobbish when it came to rank and nobility. And Rafe was preoccupied with Olyva anyway, so Tiberius nodded and slipped from the room, which had filled with people since Olyva’s mother had arrived. Her sisters soon followed their mother, although Tiberius got the impression there was no real concern. They had heard that Olyva had been changed and came to gawk at their sister. Hellen, Olyva’s former maidservant, waddled in. She was as fat as ever, and red-faced, but there was genuine concern in the woman’s eyes.

The countess’s personal servants had been loitering outside the small room, so no one seemed to notice that Tiberius had been summoned. He walked beside a nervous-looking man with a receding hairline and a slight slump to his shoulders. He was thin, almost to point of looking ill, and Tiberius guessed that many of the earl’s servants were underfed. Hellen, Olyva’s maid, was the only person Tiberius knew from Hamill Keep who was overweight.

They passed into a long hallway, and the servant slowed down. Tiberius matched the man’s gait as they walked along. The passageways of Hamill Keep were narrow and dark. The cold seemed to seep into everything, and Tiberius wondered how people in the Keep got along in the wintertime.

“My lord, I hope you don’t mind me sharing a bit of news,” the servant said.

“Of course not,” Tiberius said.

“Is it true that you’re son of Earl Aegus in Avondale?”

“I am,” Tiberius replied. “His third son, if that still counts.”

“Oh, it does. Of course it does, my lord,” the servant said. “But if you’ve really crossed the blighted lands, then you may not have heard news from Sparlan Citadel.”

“No, I haven’t,” Tiberius said, suddenly feeling nervous.

“The king was killed in a training accident,” the servant explained. “At least that’s what they’re saying. Your brother was there and married Princess Ariel just a few days before that.”

“My brother?” Tiberius said.

“Leonosis. He’s been crowned king. Don’t know all the details, obviously, but the earls were unanimous in the decision.”

Tiberius stopped, his head suddenly spinning with the news. He was having trouble believing what he was hearing.

“Leonosis Aegusson married Princess Ariel?” Tiberius asked.

“Aye, he did, Lord. And the king named him his heir.”

Tiberius felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. When the king and his daughter had traveled to Avondale before Tiberius had been banished, the princess had shown absolutely no interest in Leonosis. Tiberius couldn’t believe that his conniving older brother had really convinced Ariel to marry him. Not to mention that the king already had an heir.

“What about the prince?” Tiberius said. “Why would the king name Leonosis as his heir?”

“The prince died, Addoni rest his soul,” the servant explained. “The earls were all summoned to the Citadel for the funeral and royal wedding. Then the king declared that Leonosis was his chosen heir. A few days later, the king was killed while training with his royal guards, and your brother was crowned.”

“And no one questioned that chain of events?” Tiberius asked loudly.

He was angry, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. He just knew that things had changed and his brother was manipulating everyone. Leonosis had always been a selfish, arrogant bully. He would have made a horrible earl, and Tiberius simply couldn’t imagine the kind of damage Leonosis would do as King of Valana.

“Please, my lord, keep your voice down. Things are tense here, as you might have guessed. Earl Marcus simply isn’t himself since he returned from Sparlan Citadel. And your arrival has caused an uproar.”

“My arrival?” Tiberius asked.

“No one has ever crossed the blighted lands, my lord. Surely you know this.”

“Of course,” Tiberius said.

“The palace is abuzz with gossip, and that will spread through the entire city soon enough.”

“I just don’t understand how this all could have happened,” Tiberius said. “My brother is now King of Valana, and no one suspected foul play?”

“Everyone has suspicions, Lord, but if the earls approved and the king’s own soldiers didn’t object, what can we lowly servants do?”

“Yes, you’re right,” Tiberius said. “I’m sure there is more to the story than you know.”

They continued their journey through the bowels of the palace, which was more of a fortress than a palatial estate. Tiberius couldn’t help but notice the differences, even if his mind was spinning with the news of Leonosis’ wedding and coronation. The only thing Tiberius knew for sure at the moment was that he would have to reconsider his plans to go to Sparlan Citadel.

“This way, my lord,” the servant said, leading Tiberius into a small room with a bright fire. “Earl Marcus will be in to see you soon.”

The servant stepped back and closed the door. Tiberius was nervous. Leonosis surely didn’t expect that Tiberius could cross the blighted lands, but Princess Ariel did, and there was always a chance that Ti’s brother, the new king, could have given orders for Tiberius to be locked in chains or even killed on sight. Tiberius would have been more nervous, but he found his staff and Rafe’s sword propped against the wall in the small room. There were also several chairs, a small table against one wall, and a huge painting hung in a gilded frame. Tiberius stayed by the fire. After spending so much time in the warm lands below, he had lost some of his ability to deal with cold weather.

The door opened after only a few minutes, and the earl walked in. He was not an imposing figure. Earl Marcus had gray hair that was cropped close to his skull. There were dark circles around his eyes, and like his servant, he walked with stooped shoulders. He looked at Tiberius with glassy eyes.

“Master Tiberius?” the earl said.

“Yes, my lord,” Tiberius replied.

“Son of Aegus and brother to our new king. How interesting.”

“We have come to seek your aid, my lord.”

“Yes, well, I’m not sure how much aid Hamill Keep has to give.”

“Your daughter Olyva is with us, but she is ill.”

“My daughter,” the earl said slowly, “has disgraced her family and this great city.”

“I do not believe that was ever her intention, my lord.”

“What she intended is irrelevant,” the earl went on. “She fell in love with a common soldier and spurred her betrothal, dragging her family’s reputation through the mud as she did so. She will not find a warm reception here in Hamill Keep, but perhaps that can be avoided. You are royalty now, and I know that Princess Ariel is keenly interested in your progress across the blighted lands. Tell me what they are like.”

Tiberius cleared his throat, buying himself a moment to digest the fact that the princess had shared something with the earl about Ti. Under different circumstances he might have been flattered to have been remembered at all, but instead he felt a growing sense of dread. The princess was a sorceress, and she knew Tiberius was a wizard. What might she have said to Earl Marcus about him?

“The blighted lands are not all bad, my lord,” Tiberius said slowly. “The mists do not block out the sunlight. There are people living on the vast plains beyond the mountains.”

“People, you say? What kind of people?”

“We met the Hoskali,” Tiberius said. “They are a nomadic people. There are of course many animals. Not all are as horrific as the huge beasts that sometimes approach Avondale.”

“Interesting,” Earl Marcus said. “Is there no evidence of the cataclysm?”

“We did see one ancient city,” Tiberius went on. “Devonyr and the lands around it were not the same as the other land we traveled across. It was dead and decaying, the sky much darker.”

“A vile-sounding place,” the earl remarked. “And what are your plans now, master Tiberius?”

“Our goal had been to travel to the capital,” Tiberius admitted. “But when Olyva became sick, we thought it best to bring her here first.”

“Tell me, what happened to my daughter?”

“I can’t say I understand it exactly,” Tiberius said. “It was our second night after the banishment — which my brother staged, by the way. He had promised Rafe that Olyva would be given to him in marriage and then…”

“Go on,” Earl Marcus said, as if he were bored.

He had dropped into a chair and sat so still that Tiberius felt uncomfortable. There was nothing wrong that Ti could identify, but the man seemed to scarcely breathe as he listened to Tiberius’ account of what happened.

“Well, we came down from Mount Avondale and made camp for the night by a grove of trees…”

Tiberius wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed. He didn’t want to reveal his own part in the story or that he had used magic.

“Late in the night, we noticed something was wrong. Rafe and I lit torches and began searching to see what was amiss. It was then that we discovered that the trees were moving. They had covered Olyva in their roots.”

The earl made a face, as if the story were too fantastic.

“I know it sounds strange,” Tiberius forged on. “The blighted lands below Avondale are vast plains with very few trees. The trees we camped by were sentient. The Hoskali call them
Hosscum
, which means the ‘sacred trees’ or ‘living trees.’ Many of their elderly go to these groves, which then transforms them into a tree. The groves all share a root system. So imagine a group of trees, roughly in a circle, with their roots growing in toward the center.”

“Fascinating,” Marcus said.

“Yes, well, Olyva was inside the grove, and when we came back, she was covered by the roots, and the trees moved to keep us from getting to her. We used our torches and burned the trees, which released Olyva, but not before their transformation process had begun.”

“Does my daughter understand this?”

“None of us do,” Tiberius said. “Not really.”

“What I’m asking is does she understand that she is becoming a tree?”

“Yes, although I think the process was halted. There are some signs of her transformation, but that was almost immediate. There hasn’t seemed to be any progression.”

“Until she grew sick?” the earl asked.

“Yes, although I can’t pinpoint any direct ailment. She just won’t wake up. You see, Olyva was nourished by the sunlight. As we traveled north, the light grew dim, much the way it is outside today. My hope was that the direct sunlight would strengthen her, but the storm has kept us from finding out.”

“You’re an interesting person, Tiberius Aegusson,” the earl said. “When were you planning to tell me you are a wizard?”

Tiberius froze, unsure what to do. Practicing magic was against the law in all nine cities of Valana, and most people considered anyone who even spoke about magic a traitor. Tiberius stood by the fire, his body tense. He wasn’t prepared to be confronted and didn’t know what to do.

“Don’t worry, things are changing. Our princess told me of your powers.”

“I … I don’t want … I can leave,” Tiberius said.

“Nonsense,” the earl said. He was still sitting unnaturally still, with only his head moving, and his eyes seemed unfocused. They were pointed in Tiberius’ direction, but they didn’t seem to really see him. He felt as if the earl were somehow able to see inside him.

“You have a rare gift,” he said. “Not everyone has the courage to follow their convictions.”

“Thank you,” Tiberius said.

“Now, I’m willing to help you on your journey. I’ll send you to your brother in a sky ship.”

“That is incredibly generous,” Tiberius said.

He didn’t want to accept the offer, even though he’d had hopes that Olyva’s father would help them on their quest to reach Sparlan Citadel. Now he wasn’t so sure. Earl Marcus was not just different, he seemed unnatural, and knowing what had transpired with Leonosis, he had no doubt there was some magical duplicity at work.

Tiberius opened himself up to the magic around him. It hadn’t occurred to him earlier as he tried to process the news about Leonosis. If his eldest brother was king, then Brutas would be Earl of Avondale, and Tiberius couldn’t think of a less appropriate ruler. Had Tiberius stayed in the city, Leonosis might have been convinced to summon Brutas to Sparlan Citadel to serve as his commanding general or commander of the royal guard. Tiberius had never enjoyed the secret political maneuvering that surrounded the earl, but he might have been tempted to form an alliance with Leonosis so that Avondale could prosper.

One thing was certain: Tiberius knew that his mother would be happy. She had never been maternal and had shown almost no interest in Tiberius, but she favored Leonosis, even over their father. Now with Leonosis on the throne, their mother would be in the heart of all the kingdom’s affairs. She would be a powerful ally and an important person, not just in Avondale but in all nine cities.

All these thoughts had been jumbled up in Tiberius’ mind, so he hadn’t thought of trying to discover exactly what was happening with Earl Marcus. He opened himself up slowly and felt nothing but coldness. The palace was drafty and not well heated. The fires burned coal, since wood was so scarce on the craggy mountaintop fortress. But the cold Tiberius felt was not simply a lack of heat; it was darkness, the presence of some foul entity that Tiberius could detect but couldn’t identify. He wasn’t sure if he was feeling the earl or something else.

“Perhaps tomorrow we can talk again,” the earl said, standing up suddenly.

“Of course,” Tiberius replied.

“Good. I have returned your belongings. My steward will show you back to your room.”

Tiberius bowed, hoping that the earl didn’t notice how tense he was or the hairs that were standing straight up on the back of his neck as he left the room. Tiberius stepped closer to the fire, suddenly feeling cold. Something was happening, but he had no idea what it was. Part of Tiberius wished they had never left the Hoskali. He suddenly missed the freedom he had to explore his magic and the laid-back lifestyle of the nomadic tribes, but he also felt a responsibility for what his brother was doing. King Aethel had not been a great king, but he was the rightful ruler of Valana, and Tiberius had no doubt that Leonosis had used some foul trick to worm his way into becoming king. Still, he didn’t know if he should risk his life trying to right his family’s wrongs or just find a place where he and Lexi could live out their lives in happiness.