Balestone (6 page)

“All we can do for now is follow the plan,” Tiberius said. “We have an obligation to save the tribe. We have to get this water to them and soon.”

“Well then,” Lexi said. “It looks like we’re in for a long walk.”

“You think they’re following us yet?” Rafe asked.

“Dancer will know,” Lexi said, as she flung the small creature back up into the air.

“You want to tell us about your new friend?” Tiberius asked.

“And what happened to you and Rafe in your search for water?” Olyva added.

“It’s a long story,” Lexi said.

“Like you said, we’re in for a long walk,” Tiberius said.

Lexi shared her story, emphasizing Rafe’s part in fighting the raiders who tried to intercept them. She had barely seen the creatures chasing her in the night, so she told that part of the story with as few details as possible. Then she told them how she had found Dancer.

“Hold on,” she said in the middle of her story.

She leaned on Tiberius and was unsteady for a moment.

“Lexi?” Tiberius asked. “Are you okay?”

“She is — wait and see,” Olyva said.

“They aren’t following us yet,” Lexi said with her eyes still closed. “Most of the raiders have gone back to the camp. I can’t tell for sure from this distance, but it looks like they’re arguing.”

“How do you know that?” Tiberius asked.

Lexi opened her eyes and immediately became more steady on her feet.

“It’s Dancer,” Lexi said. “I can see what she sees sometimes.”

“What?” Rafe asked.

“How?” Tiberius wanted to know.

“I don’t know how,” Lexi explained.

She continued her story about rescuing the furry creature even as Dancer spiraled down and landed gracefully on Lexi’s shoulder. She stroked the little animal on the head.

“She bonded with me somehow. I can’t explain it. She sends me images when she's flying and seems to understand what I’m saying most of the time. Don't you, girl? Yes, you can understand.”

“That’s astonishing,” Tiberius said.

“And a little creepy,” Rafe chimed in.

Dancer chirped angrily at Rafe, and everyone laughed.

“I told you she understands,” Lexi said.

“I think she’s adorable,” Olyva said.

“We better take a break,” Tiberius said. “We don’t want to wear out the horses, and without food we’ll get pretty tired by the end of the day ourselves.”

They stopped the horses, and Lexi took them water. Tiberius sat on the tail of the wagon and watched her. He couldn’t believe how strong she was. Olyva climbed up and sat beside Rafe.

Tiberius was still bothered by Lexi’s question. Could he have killed the entire group of Rogu? Had they marched after Tiberius and Olyva en masse, he would have been tempted. He could have dumped fire from the portal like a dragon, burning them all alive. But the two men who had died had screamed so horribly. Tiberius didn’t think he would ever forget their cries of agony as they burned. He regretted killing them. Perhaps they deserved it, perhaps not — the morality of the act wasn’t the issue, it was the decision.

Tiberius knew that his father could order a man killed or exiled from Avondale, which was essentially a death sentence. His father wasn’t a wizard, but the power they both wielded was the same. Tiberius’ power came from knowledge and self-control; his father’s had been passed down generation after generation. The earls’ power was granted by the people of Avondale, and it was a sacred power, the highest honor a man could receive. Tiberius’ power was magical, but it had very real effects. People could see what Tiberius was capable of. They could witness his strength, and if they tested him, his power was real enough to stop them.

But was it right to use that power to take another person’s life? Tiberius had already done that. He had killed the sentient trees the Hoskali called the Hosscum. He had slain the huge beast the Hoskali called a
Draccon
, or at least rendered it unconscious so that Rafe could kill it. Tiberius hadn’t killed Moswanee, but he had taken the man’s place as chief of the tribe and cast him out alone. Tiberius began to wonder if he was really any better than his father. He could argue that he was doing it to protect his friends and even the tribe, but that didn’t assuage the guilt he felt over killing the raiders.

“You look like a man with a lot on his mind,” Lexi said as she settled beside him.

Dancer was digging through her pack for the last crumbs of the mealy bread she had eaten on the trip back from the river.

“I’m thinking about your question,” he said.

“What question?”

“Could I really kill the raiders? I still don’t have an answer.”

“Maybe you don’t need one,” Lexi said. “I admit seeing your magic sometimes bothers me. I’m afraid of it, but I’m not afraid of you.”

“I was taught as a child that, if a person is good, he will use his strength for good,” Tiberius said. “We were encouraged to be strong, but I never really was. At least not the way my brothers were. My father thought we should all be warriors.”

“You’re stronger than a whole tribe of warriors, Tiberius.”

“But I had to break the most sacred law of Valana to have that strength.”

“Sometimes doing what you believe to be right — even if you’re the only person that believes it — takes incredible courage and strength. The law about magic is wrong. I see that now. I’ve seen you do wondrous things, Ti. And I know you’re a good person. Probably the best person I’ve ever met.”

“It seems like a good person could find a way to do the right thing without hurting others,” Tiberius said.

“There is nothing wrong with protecting yourself or the people you love,” Lexi said. “From my experience, a person who isn’t willing to fight for what they want won’t get it and will probably have someone else take what they have.”

“I was a little naive, I guess,” Tiberius confessed. “I expected us to fight animals like graypees or worse, but I didn’t think I’d be forced to kill people.”

“What do you think will happen when you confront the princess?”

Tiberius remembered how easily she had snapped his leg. He had gone to her quarters, and she had levitated him, then broken his leg without even uttering a word. It had seemed so easy for her. And she had no qualms whatsoever about inflicting pain. She had broken his leg just to see if he could really heal himself. The thought of it made him shudder, even though it was a hot day.

“I don’t know,” Tiberius said.

“Well, you better be ready to do whatever it takes to stop her,” Lexi said. “Maybe that’s why you have to wrestle with this now, so that you can do what has to be done when the time comes.”

Tiberius pondered that for a moment. It didn’t make him feel any better about facing the raiders or about facing Princess Ariel, but he knew he couldn’t back away from either task.

“I guess there’s no sense waiting around,” Tiberius said. “We better get on with it.”

Chapter 7

News of Prince Argo’s death swept through the castle like a summer storm. The poor boy had been sickly for some time, but his death was sudden just the same. Everyone mourned, not because they loved their prince, but because King Aethel had no other heir. The lineage of kings was passed from father to son, and in the absence of an heir, the earls would elect a new king, usually from among themselves.

Leonosis understood what was happening, even if he was no longer in control of his own body. In fact, everything seemed to be falling into place. It had been his plan to force Princess Ariel into marrying him. He had hoped the ailing prince would die. And then he could convince the other earls that he deserved to be the High King. Only now all Leonosis wanted was to return to Avondale, but it was much too late for that.

Draggah was in total control of Leonosis now. He would say things and do things that made Leonosis cringe, yet the earl had no way to stop the shadow spirit. Draggah could read his mind and often spoke to Leonosis alone, mocking the wretched earl’s innermost thoughts or tormenting him for something he felt.

At other times Draggah seemed to fade away, although his presence was never really gone from Leonosis’ consciousness. Still, during those times Leonosis was in full control of his actions. He’d considered fleeing Sparlan Citadel, but Draggah had inflicted unbearable agony on Leonosis whenever he resisted the demon’s control. There was no doubt in Leonosis’ mind that Draggah could kill him at will.

King Aethel had been annoyed by Leonosis’ presence, but the demon was forcing Princess Ariel to convince her father that they were in love. King Aethel was a weak-willed man. He had been under Ariel’s magical influence for some time, and the death of his son was a crushing blow to the monarch. He had no strength left to resist his daughter’s wishes. And so, just before Prince Argo died, the king sadly announced his daughter’s betrothal.

The earls were summoned, and the citadel was made ready. There was talk among the people who lived under the fortress in the vast city carved into the mountain that the marriage was too soon, but Draggah was in control of things now and he grew weary of waiting. Grentz, the Sword Master of Avondale and Leonosis’ only companion on this trip, was sent back to Avondale in the massive airship to fetch Leonosis’ mother and brother. The marriage ceremony was to be held in just two weeks.

Each day Leonosis spent time with Princess Ariel. The demon and his host no longer needed to hide in the depths of the castle. There were times when the princess seemed weak or at least timid around Leonosis. In those times, when she was vulnerable and Leonosis was in control of himself, they would commiserate together. The princess’ insatiable curiosity had led her to the archives where she discovered a vast horde of books on magic. Her father had spoiled her until the birth of his son, and when he then seemed indifferent to his daughter, Ariel turned to magic as a way of regaining the power she felt she’d lost from her father’s attentions. She had no idea what she was doing and unleashed powers she couldn’t control. Now those powers controlled her and Leonosis and would soon be in control of the entire kingdom.

“Once the earls arrive, we will see that the two of you are properly married.”

It was Leonosis speaking, but Draggah controlled him fully at that moment. The demon always referred to Leonosis as a separate entity, even though the two of them were one and the same now.

“Plan for a week of feasting,” he continued. “Make it a lavish affair. I want no detail left to chance. Is that understood?”

Princess Ariel nodded. Her father was mourning, so she had taken control of the marriage plans. Everything was falling neatly into place just as Draggah had said it would. Killing her younger brother had sapped Ariel of any resistance to the shadow spirit’s plans.

“Now, we shall begin spreading the rumors of the king’s ill health.”

“My father,” Ariel said sadly.

“He must be removed so that I can ascend the throne,” Leonosis said. “The earls will be assembled. Our plans must not be delayed.”

Tears formed in Ariel’s eyes, but she did not speak. Draggah continued as Leonosis was held mute within his own body.

“Three days after the prince is buried, we will strike. Then, we shall work our necromancy.”

“I’m uncertain,” Ariel said.

“You will be ready,” the demon growled. “Make your preparations.”

“I must see to the wedding details and prepare the most complex spell I’ve ever cast?”

“I will ensure the power is available. Do not speak to me of your human frailties. Did you not summon me? Was this not your wish?”

“The cost is too high,” she said as the tears streaked down her face.

“You will obey me, child,” Leonosis growled. “Or I will banish your soul to the nether realm.”

Leonosis was horrified. All his life he’d attended ceremonies at the temple in Avondale. He’d heard all the stories of Addoni the Life Giver and Rastimus the Deceiver. Addoni had banished Rastimus to a place of darkness and lashed the fallen immortal to a giant furnace where he was forced to work the billows day and night. In the afterlife, the evil are sent to Rastimus’ forge where the immortal tortures their souls in eternal fire. But Leonosis had never really believed in Addoni or in the stories of Rastimus. His concern was pleasure and power. He rarely gave thoughts of death or punishments for his selfish actions any real legitimacy. But Draggah was a creature that was not of this world. He had no physical form, yet he was a powerful being who had usurped Leonosis’ body. If he threatened eternal damnation, Leonosis took him at his word.

“Now, we must make our appearances, and we must set those around us at ease,” the spirit went on. “Clean yourself and join your father. It will be expected.”

“Yes, my lord,” the princess said.

Leonosis watched as she left. The demon sent ribbons of pain lancing through Leonosis’ mind. The young earl screamed, but the sound never made its way out of his body. Nor did the deep, rasping laughter of the demon. If anyone had seen Leonosis in that moment, they might have thought him dead, despite the fact that he was standing in the middle of the room.

“Do not think that the girl is yours, mortal,” Draggah said, speaking directly into Leonosis’ mind. “The princess must be unblemished for the great magic. She will one day rend the heavens and make death her slave, but for now she must suffer. It is the only path to true power.”

“I won’t help you,” Leonosis said, but his mind had been knocked off the throne of his body. Draggah was ensconced in the seat of power, while Leonosis’ consciousness shuddered in the corner of his mind.

“You have no choice.”

The pain erupted again. This time Draggah swept himself away, like a shadow disappearing from the light. Leonosis felt the power of bodily control return and with it came even greater pain. He fell to the floor, writhing for several minutes. He had to bite his fist to keep from screaming in agony. He had cried out the first time Draggah had punished his disobedience, and servants had come running to see what was distressing the King’s noble guest. Healers had been summoned and the King notified, but Draggah had resumed control of Leonosis and explained it all away. Since then, Leonosis knew that making noise would only make the pain worse, and it was on the edge of unbearable to begin with.

After several moments the pain began to lessen. Leonosis lay on the cold stone floor, the reeds that had been spread so neatly were now broken and scattered. He slowly got to his feet. In those moments when he truly felt alone, he pondered suicide, but Draggah had warned him against such extreme efforts to be free of the demon’s control.

He went to the table where a basin of clean water waited. He washed himself and dressed in clean clothes. The mourning feast would begin soon. The mourning feast was usually a celebration of a great man’s deeds, but Prince Argo was only a child. There would be no tales of greatness, no songs of his valor or testimonies of the lives he changed. There would only be wailing and sadness, songs of lament and loss. Still, Leonosis would be expected to attend, as would the nobles in the King’s court and the highest ranking citizens that lived in the city below the stronghold.

Leonosis went slowly from his suite of rooms and down a long corridor. The King’s hall was bare. The tapestries had been removed, revealing dull gray stone all along the large rectangular room. The king’s high table was draped with a black cloth, and there was no greenery, no decorations, just long rows of benches next to bare tables, all filled with sad faces. The priests had sprinkled ashes into their hair and beards, so that they took on a gray, deathly pallor. Nobles and guests all sat in awkward silence. Leonosis took his place on the far end of the King’s table, where he waited like everyone else.

After several minutes Princess Ariel arrived with her mother, who was weeping and leaning heavily on her daughter. Ariel escorted her mother to the king’s table, and they sat together, hiding their swollen faces behind dark veils.

When the king arrived, he walked solemnly to his place, but everyone could see his red, puffy eyes and knew that he was just a man who had lost his only son. When he sat, servants hurried forward. They brought out loaves of stale, bitter bread, bowls of weak broth, and pitchers of tepid water. Normally the mourning feast was a fine affair, but the King had no heart for revelry and did not want his subjects to enjoy any part of his son’s demise.

The king broke his loaf, dipped the bread into the broth, and ate. His subjects did likewise, and Leonosis saw the surprise on their faces. They were bewildered and uncertain of how to behave. Leonosis could relate to their consternation; he too was unsure how to act or why he should mourn the sickly prince. After several minutes, the King rose again and left the feasting hall. Murmuring broke out softly down the long benches. Ariel and her mother stayed in the hall but did not eat. Leonosis pushed his own food away. He would find wine and something more palatable in the kitchens if he had to. He knew for certain that the king was not abstaining from wine. The monarch was rarely seen without a goblet in his hand.

On the citadel’s walls, a double guard had been posted. Not due to fear of attack, but to honor the death of the prince. While one soldier stood facing the cold mists of the blighted lands, the other stood facing in toward the castle, a black cloth draped from his spear, which was held out so that the cloth hung down. It was a salute to a king, and despite the fact that the little prince had not even been well enough to run and play in the castle halls (much less train with his soldiers or rule under his father’s watchful eye), they had been ordered to salute him with all the dignity and respect of a great ruler.

Leonosis made his way down to the kitchens. He passed weeping servants and distressed looking cooks.

“Where is the wine?” he barked at one of them.

“We were ordered not to serve wine, my lord.”

“I don’t care what you were ordered. I’ll not eat bitter bread and tepid water. The King has lost his appetite along with his mind. Bring me food and bring it swiftly.”

The servant nodded and hurried away. Leonosis felt no guilt at berating the servant. He was noble-born, and she was a lowly cook. He trusted that keeping the servants busy during such a trying time was kinder than letting them wallow in despair.

“My lord,” the servant said in a fearful voice as she returned. “I have cold chicken, but nothing more. The king has had the fires put out of the ovens, and there are soldiers guarding the spirits.”

Leonosis wanted to spew more venom at the servant but he knew it was a waste of time. The poor woman was terrified. He waved at her to follow him and then walked briskly through the kitchens toward the great storerooms, where food from the other eight cities was stored. The citadel did not produce its own food or wine; the other cities sent taxes of food, wine, and precious materials to the King. Leonosis knew there were long storerooms full of ale and wine, enough to last the entire castle for years if the shipments suddenly stopped.

There were two guards standing in front of the door that led to the nearest storeroom. Leonosis didn’t bother to speak. He walked briskly up to the first soldier and kicked him hard between the legs. The soldier stared in disbelief as his partner fell to the floor in agony. Leonosis had snatched away the long spear that the soldier had been holding, and with one quick, efficient stroke, smashed the butt end of the weapon into the other soldier’s temple.

“Now drag them out of the way and fetch me some wine!” Leonosis shouted.