Chains of a Dark Goddess (19 page)

The balcony door was unlocked. He eased it open and rushed inside. A half-burned candle dimly lit the bedchamber, which reeked of wine and incense. Mahogany chests and cabinets lined the side walls. Thick wool rugs padded the floor. Silk curtains draped the windows. 

A canopy bed rested against the far wall, and Fortrenzi, naked and drenched with a thick film of sweat, lay sprawled across a bundle of sheets and pillows. 

You’ve aged, old friend. Far more than seven years of soft living should do to a man.

Breskaro edged forward, sword in hand. He touched Fortrenzi.

“What?” the old man murmured.

Then he shot upright and slammed back against the headboard, cowering at the sight of those murderous, green eyes. 

“Help!” he shouted. “A devil! Help me!” 

The
spell of silence
made his shout no louder to those outside the room than words spoken in a casual conversation.

“My spells have masked the sound. They cannot hear you.”

“Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“Who am I? You don’t know?”

Breskaro pulled the funeral mask from his face.

Fortrenzi cried out in terror, wailing and clawing to get further away. But there was nowhere to go. He made no attempt to fight Breskaro. 

“How, how, how?!”

“Dark arts have returned me from the grave. Sorcery has given me a new body and a chance to extract my revenge. I
know
what you did to me.” 

Breskaro tore silk sheets from the bed and tossed them to the floor. “For this! Riches and comfort. We were friends. You betrayed me for
wealth
. I would have given you money. I would have given you my own country estate had you only asked.”

“This can’t be,” Fortrenzi murmured helplessly. “You were
dead
. Dead seven years.”

“Did you enjoy your years of comfort. Were they worth it? Judging from the ridiculous amount of guards here, you are a man possessed by paranoia. Have you dreamt all these years that my judgment would reach you?”

“Nightmares. Every night. I should not have done it. Breskaro, if you are truly Breskaro, forgive me. I should not have done it. I am sorry, I am so sorry, my son. You trusted me and I betrayed you. It was a life of comfort or an ending of disgrace. Magnos couldn’t manage the plan without my aid. He threatened me. It is him you should blame. Please, please do not kill me.”

“Magnos will get what he deserves. I assure you of that.” Breskaro put his mask back on. “I knew you were jealous of me, the student surpassing his master. I knew. But I never thought you’d kill for that and wealth.”

Fortrenzi began to mewl and grovel and cry.

“Where are they buried?”

“What?” Fortrenzi replied in a whimper.

“My Valiants? On the field of battle?”

“What? No. We brought them all home with you. It was a grand funeral procession. Heroes of the Third Crusade.”

“Returned to their families then,” Breskaro said with disappointment.

“No. Except for you, they were all buried in a new cemetery. At the Shrine of Saint Norvus. From whence we launched the crusade. They built a giant mausoleum and shrine to you and the Valiants. The Matriarch consecrated it. Orisala would not allow the Matriarch to bury you there, though. They placed your armor and your horse there, beneath a statue of you.”

“Where is the first flag of the Valiants? Is it there too?”

“The original riders?”

“Yes. Those of whom my grandfather was the last member. I trusted their banner into your keeping. Your wife was going to mend it for me.”

“She did. Before she died. It’s in a chest in the top floor of the tower.”

Breskaro nodded with satisfaction.

“Take me to it.”

Fortrenzi did as he was instructed and did not attempt to fight him or run away. A spiral staircase in the corner of the room led up to the viewing tower. They went up the steps into the chamber, which had large windows on all sides.

Fortrenzi went to a chest, tripped a hidden switch, and opened it. He drew out the flag. “I keep it here, Breskaro. I would fly it if I dared, if I weren’t a coward and a traitor. I kept it secret. I didn’t want them to have it for the shrine.”

“Your guilt has made you paranoid. Nearly senile. You are
worthless
.”

In the most brave tone he’d yet managed, Fortrenzi replied, “I know that. I know it well.”

“Now Master Fortrenzi, it is time now for you to meet your destiny. It will be Torment for you if I slay you. Torment for your betrayal. I was a great hero, devoted Champion of Seshalla, and all I got was the limbo of the Shadowland. An endless walk of mist and demons. You will not fare well.”

“Please, please, Breskaro, I know I deserve it. But if there is any man left of you, spare me. I have children. Grandchildren. Your former squire Kedimius and his betrothed make their home here when they are not on duty.
Please
. Many depend on me.”

“I depended on you and you see what I got. It would be better for all of them if I ended you now.”

Breskaro grabbed Fortrenzi by the hair and drew his sword back.

Chapter 28

Ilsimia lay within Kedimius’ arms. She murmured softly. 

“Are you asleep?” he whispered.

“Not yet. If you want more, I’m spent.”

“It’s not that. I was thinking of the battle.”

“
Again
? There was nothing you could have done had you been there.”

“I know but this business with Master Varenni’s body … It’s bringing it all back to me.” He sighed deeply. “I should have died then, by his side.”

“Seshalla spared you for a higher purpose. I am sure of it. What that purpose is, I have no idea. But in time it will—”

Ilsimia bolted up from the bed, trembling.

“There’s a darkness here. In the rooms above.”

“Fortrenzi’s chambers?”

She nodded, her face stricken and pale. Kedimius leapt to his feet, threw on a nightshirt, and grabbed his sword.

Ilsimia took up her crystal-tipped staff. “Ked, it’s the same darkness I felt within Breskaro’s chamber.”

They rushed up the stairs. The two sleepy guards stationed in the hallway that led to Sir Fortrenzi’s bedchamber perked up instantly and intercepted them. 

“Something has entered your master’s chambers,” Ilsimia said.

“We’ve heard nothing, madam.”

“Then it’s all the worse.”

“Madam Priestess, with all respect, we should consult him first.”

“In the name of the Matriarch, I command you to let us in.”

“Yes, madam.”

The guards drew their swords and rushed to the door. 

“He locks it from the inside,” one of them said.

“Then kick it down,” she replied.

Both men kicked it at once and barreled in. The bed was empty. The covers disheveled. The door to the balcony open. One guard hurried to the balcony door and gasped. 

“The guards outside have been murdered.”

“Perhaps he’s been kidnapped,” said the other.

“The darkness is still here,” said Ilsimia. “It’s…” She looked toward the spiral staircase that led to the viewing room at the top of the tower. “It’s up there.”

Kedimius stormed up the staircase, and the rest followed him. He shouldered through the half open door and skidded into the room. An assassin in leather armor with bone-white hair loomed over Sir Fortrenzi, threatening him with his saber. The man spun and faced them. He wore a bronze death mask, and his eyes sparked a malevolent emerald. A copper choker was wrapped around his neck, and an amethyst qavra stone hung from a chain. In his left hand was a banner, an ancient variation of the flag of the Valiants.

“What the devil!” Kedimius shouted in terror. “Who — What are you?”

“Kedimius,” replied Breskaro. “Old friend. It is I, your master. I didn’t know you would be here.” 

“Leave him be demon,” said Ilsimia, brandishing her staff toward the intruder.

“You failed me, Kedimius. You
failed
Orisala.”

Kedimius stumbled backward. “Your voice. Master Varenni — How?”

“I was dead, but now I am returned.”

“Lies, demon.
Lies
. Breskaro Varenni is in Paradise with the faithful of Seshalla.”

Breskaro bellowed a grating laugh. “Oh, Kedimius. It is all false promises from the Matriarch. Seshalla, if she still exists, doesn’t care about us.”

“You will kneel before the power of Seshalla, demon,” declared Ilsimia.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Breskaro replied. He muttered something under his breath and then said, “You will kneel before
me
.”

The two guards immediately knelt. Ilsimia collapsed against the wall. Kedimius stood still, unmoving.

“Drop your weapons.”

Kedimius and the guards dropped their swords, but Ilsimia held onto her staff. All of them had their eyes locked onto Breskaro. Fortrenzi cowered on the floor, crying in fear.

Breskaro lunged, and with two swifts cuts, the guards’ throats were sliced. They slumped to the floor bleeding to death. Breskaro moved toward Ilsimia. Kedimius found the strength he needed. He broke free from the
spell of compulsory obedience
and barreled into Breskaro, knocking him away from Ilsimia.

Kedimius hopped back and retrieved his sword.

“Don’t try to stop me, Kedimius. If anything, you should be joining me.”

“You can’t be the real Breskaro Varenni.”

Breskaro looked him in the eyes. “I have no wish to kill you. You were like a son to me. Join me.”

Breskaro moved toward the priestess again.

“Stay away from her.”

“What is she to you?”

“She is my betrothed.”

“Betrothed? But Orisala is your betrothed. I thought you loved her. You proclaimed undying love for her on the Mountain of Pain. We had just escaped with our lives, you and me and Whum. You promised. But you have abandoned her for another. Have I no friends left? Was I betrayed by you as well, Kedimius?”

“Orisala is gone. She vanished out of her bedchamber one night. No one saw anything. I searched and searched but never found a trace of where she had gone or what had happened to her

“Why weren’t you there for Orisala when she was struck down?”

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

“You were supposed to be protecting her. A failing on your part. And this …
priestess
… this is betrayal. You swore to me that you would devote your life to my Orisala.”

“I would have.”

“There is still time to make amends for your sins against me, to return to her.”

“What do you mean return to—”

“Power of Seshalla, flow through me!” Ilsimia shouted. 

She broke free and aimed her staff at Breskaro. A searing light shot forth from the crystal matrix at the end of the staff. The beam struck Breskaro and knocked him back. He recovered and rushed toward her, his clothes smoking, his skin blistered. 

“Seshalla aid me!” she cried again.

Breskaro twisted and the blast caught only his side. He lunged with his blade. She dodged, but the attack wasn’t meant for her. His saber struck the crystal and shattered it. He spun on his heel, aiming his second strike at her midsection.

Kedimius leapt in and parried the attack, positioning himself between Breskaro and Ilsimia. They exchanged blows, Breskaro aiming simply to disarm Kedimius. Kedimius was simply trying to defend himself from an attacker who was far faster and stronger than any man he had ever faced, including Breskaro when he was alive. 

“Don’t listen to anything he says,” Ilsimia said. “This isn’t the real Breskaro.”

“It’s him,” Kedimius told her. “I — I can tell. I have no doubt.”

Breskaro’s clothes were burned away in places — his exposed skin blistered. “Kedimius, listen to me. You don’t understand what’s going on. Fortrenzi and Magnos betrayed me. Magnos thought I was having an affair with Deltenya so he had me killed on the battlefield. I have come back from the Shadowland to save Orisala.”

“What do you mean?”

“Back, Ked!”

Ilsimia, with another crystal in her hand, aimed a blast of light at Breskaro. He dodged, backed away, and uttered the
spell of sudden darkness
. The room was instantly devoid of light except for a glow surrounding the stone in Ilsimia’s hand. But its glow was no more than that of a sputtering candle. Boots were pounding against the stairs as a dozen guards rushed up.

Breskaro turned on Fortrenzi and slashed his saber across the man’s eyes.

“You’ll see no more, old friend. In the dark of blindness you will always imagine that I am near, come to finish you at last.”

Ilsimia spoke a word and her crystal flared, banishing the darkness. It was enough to illuminate Breskaro as he leapt out of the window, glass shattering and falling onto the roof. It was enough to show the two guards with great slits in their necks stand and move awkwardly toward Ilsimia, their hands outstretched.