Rise of the Sparrows (Relics of Ar'Zac #1) (28 page)

King Aeric didn't look like a king. If it hadn't been for his expensive robes, the jewellery, and the crown on his head he could have been any other beggar in Blackrock.

With a heavy sigh, King Aeric got up and moved towards her with the same grace as a dying lion.

Finally, an arm's length away from her, he stopped.

“Because this is my throne, not his. If you want my crown you will need to fight me for it, not him.” Her aching face twisted into a smirk. The man she had worried about slaying, because she had believed him to be impossible to reach, had challenged her to a duel.

His behaviour puzzled her. She needed to know his reasons. “You want to fight me?”

His forehead creasing, he shook his head. “I have not been a good king, Sparrow. A good king would have prevented this war. A good king would not have confided in a Mist Woman.” There it was. The confession to everything Arlo had warned her about. He really had schemed with Aeron, against the welfare of his people. Had he known what she would do? From the open regret laid bare on his face she didn't think he had.

“You regret your life.” It was more an observation than a question, but Rachael didn't know how to respond to any of this. She had come prepared for an impossible fight, yet he was willing to cross blades knowing his odds. He looked too worn out to take another step, least of all defend himself in a fight for his life.

Again, he shook his head. “No. Only the last year of it.” With a heavy sigh, he sat himself down on the cold steps leading up to his throne. His guards looked uneasy but didn't leave their positions. “On the day of my coronation I swore to serve my people. I swore to protect them from harm, hear their pleas and serve them as a good ruler should. They came to me, saying that magic ruined their crops, forced their wives into stillbirth and sold ill omens rather than charms for good luck on my markets. I put up laws, forbidding the gifted to interfere in the lives of people without magic. For a while, it worked. Then they took offence. Called those who had accused them liars, swearing they had not done any of the things they had been blamed for. But what could I do? The stillbirths had decreased and our crops flourished. Then the protests started. People got arrested. I sent them to prison, like I would send any other criminal. My commander assured me they were treated the way they deserved. I did not realise our views on how to treat people were so different.”

Rachael wanted to say something, question him further, but this was a man giving his final confession. She wouldn't be like him and deny him that.

“That's when the prison breaks started. A group that called themselves Sparrows was behind it, I was told. People who rescued the gifted, sympathisers, regardless of their own blood. Any resistance has to be stopped before it grows too strong. And throughout all that, my people kept complaining. People born with magic had unfair advantages, they claimed. Had an easier life. Were too dangerous to be allowed free. People from all over the country reported dangerous individuals who killed innocents with magic. I needed to stop them, Sparrow, it was my duty as their King. But it was never enough, and one day the rumour of a forming war started. The Sparrows wanted revenge for the injustice done to them. Everyone else wanted the sorcerers locked away. I hoped I could find another solution. A different way than the countries around me have walked, but I could not. Things moved too quickly. You know yourself how much more powerful one sorceress is when confronted by several guards twice her size carrying heavy weapons and equipped with the best armour.”

She nodded, her escape from Blackrock with Cephy forever burnt into her memory. “So you called in Aeron? You decided to depend on someone you had promised your people you would kill?”

King Aeric hesitated. “War is a terrible thing, Sparrow. You have to use any weapon at your disposal if you wish to win. I prey that you will never have to learn this truth the hard way. Now, I believe you are here for a reason. I am not proud of the man I have become, Sparrow, but I owe my people a better tomorrow. I have no desire to fight you. Contrary to what you must believe of me I do not relish in unnecessary blood shed. Try to take my crown if you wish, but I won't give it up easily.”

Rachael swallowed, her sword raised as King Aeric drew his own blade, twice the size of hers and twice as heavy, and lifted the weapon for his first attack.

Cale watched from the shadows a little farther down the corridor as Commander Videl took his position outside the heavy doors. Rachael was on the other side of those doors, alone with the king and his own personal guard.

His teeth clenched, his hands balled into fists around the hilt of his sword. He had lost too much already. The Sparrows were gone, and he couldn't be sure that Ailis would be all right. Worst of all, this sorry excuse for a commander had killed his best friend.

He had followed them up King's Road and into the palace. As much as he wanted to help Rachael fight King Aeric, she had to do this herself. Prophecy had named her, and he wouldn't interfere. He had business with the commander.

Arlo had been his only friend for a long time, until he had founded the Sparrows. He had saved him and Ailis all those years ago from starvation, and he'd been a save refuge to them as well as many other gifted and new Sparrows. That the Commander of the White Guard had defeated him in a duel was an insult to everything he had been.

Rage coursing through him, he stepped out of the shadows. The commander thought himself aware of everything that went on in the city, yet he hadn't noticed Cale following him and watching him. He'd have killed him right then and there, before he had a chance to kill Arlo, but he had been too far away then. He hadn't wanted to rush in and distract Arlo. He hadn't wanted it to be his fault if his friend died.

Now it seemed it was his fault regardless of his motives.

“Commander Videl!” The man would pay. He had destroyed his Sparrows—his family—had had a hand in all those people dying of that disease, and he had killed the only father Cale remembered clearly. He would make him pay.

An amused smile spread on the commander's face when he saw Cale. He was confident, no doubt boasting after his defeat over Arlo. King Aeric had Rachael, and now Cale came to him willingly. He must have felt like this was his lucky day.

With three long strides Cale reached him and took a heavy swing with his sword. Taken by surprise the commander dodged just in time, if a little late. His sword caught the commander's leg, leaving a deep gash in his flesh.

“You—” His men raised their weapons, ready to defend their commander. “Stand down! I have given you one lesson today, and I will give you another! Never go into battle in blind rage.” He raised his own sword, Arlo's blood still fresh on the metal, and brought it down on Cale's head. Cale dodged, light on his feet and standing behind the commander before his opponent could realise what was happening.

Arlo had raised him after his parents had died. His real father had taught him a bit about sword fighting and the morals of battle. He had been brought up to fight fair, and never attack without giving his opponent the chance the defend himself.

All that was forgotten when he rushed his blade through the commander's heart. Blood ran down the hilt and over his hands, making it difficult to hold on to his sword.

He wasn't so sure that his father would be proud now, had he been able to see him today. Cale had never killed in cold blood before. He had always given his enemy the chance for a fair duel, the chance to fight for his life.

Commander Videl had not deserved that chance.

Two of the commander's men rushed him, swords raised and ready to kill him where he stood. Cale removed his blade from the commander's back. He dodged and spun around on his toes before cutting both men's middles in the same move. They fell around him as their insides emptied themselves on to the floor.

The other two guards stood where they'd been before, their eyes wide and unsure of what to do. They had hunted him and his family for years. Now they finally had him cornered, and he had cut down their commander and two fellow guards without a problem.

“Stand down now, and the Sparrows will show you mercy.” He wasn't convinced they deserved it but they were just soldiers, like him and his Sparrows. It had been their King who had made the decision to work together with Aeron. It had been their commander who had given the orders. He had known enough about Commander Videl to know that he wasn't disobeyed without consequence.

The men didn't move, their eyes switching between him and their dead commander.

“Attack me. I dare you.” Seeing the challenge in his eyes they stepped down, dropping their weapons by their feet.

They would need to be questioned. He couldn't recruit them without knowing their motives, first, but with the Sparrows gone he would have to rebuild. Not one member of his family could be replaced, but Rachael would need an army. She would need guards.

It was worth finding out which side these men were really loyal to before he killed them. 

The distinct sound of steel against steel echoed through the throne room. Something was going on outside the throne room, but there was no time to think about it.

Rachael spun around just in time to dodge King Aeric's attack. The heavy sword came crashing down into the stone floor right beside her feet. Her heart jumped at the near miss, and she stumbled to the side.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw the doors open and thick blood pouring into the room. Even from this distance she saw the commander lying in a pool of his own blood, and Cale stepping into the room with his clothes soaked in red. There were several others, but King Aeric didn't give her time to count the bodies.

The king raised his sword for another attack, and their eyes met. A sad smile graced his lips, and her blood ran cold. She was running out of time. If she were hit by one of his swings, he'd split her in half.

Cale would go to prison. Cephy and Arlo would have died for nothing.

Nothing would change for people like her. All over Rifarne children would grow up without food, without safety, without a friend.

Furious that he'd allowed all this, she raised her own sword, spun on the spot and buried the cold, blood-stained steel inside his gut.

He froze where he stood. His eyes glazed over, and a thin sliver of blood trickled down his chin as his lungs filled with blood. From the other end of the throne room she heard shocked gasps, followed by ten pairs of footsteps running towards their dying king.

She didn't know whether to celebrate, or to mourn him. Could he have lived, despite everything prophecy said? He had regretted his decisions, and Rachael thought he had been ready to step down. He hadn't looked like a king fit to rule. Would he have resigned, if it meant that he could live? Would he have come to his senses later, claiming the throne as rightfully his after all?

She shook her head, watching with her heart thudding hard as his life drained out of him. He might have been ready to step down, but he had been their king and he had felt that he needed to do right by his people. After everything he had allowed to happen, his life had been the final thing he could give them but he hadn't wanted to hand it over to her. He had needed her to earn it. That was what his smile had meant. After seeing that she was willing to fight and defend herself, he had given her permission.

Cale was by her side immediately.

“Rachael...” She didn't know what to say. She had imagined this moment to feel better, more glorious, more like a victory, but instead she found it hard to feel anything.

King Aeric was dead. That still left Aeron to worry about, and Ailis. Cale needed to hear about Arlo, too.

And where did any of this leave her? She didn't want to be queen. She knew nothing about ruling a country besides what King Aeric had told her mere moments ago—that war was a terrible thing, and about the need to use any weapon at her disposal if it meant ending the slaughter.

Cephy had died wanting to achieve a better future for people like her. She had been misguided and manipulated, but her ultimate goal had been the same. For all she knew, the next king wouldn't change anything. Maybe he would even see everything that had happened to the city as a reason to make things worse. If she were queen, she could make sure that all these people hadn't died for nothing.

She had always done what she needed if it meant survival. Becoming queen seemed to be next, but it was a big step and she wasn't sure if she could take it.

“What now?” She was grateful that she wasn't alone in this large hall. Given everything that had happened here, everything she had done, the walls felt like they were closing in on her.

“Now you become Queen of Rifarne.” Hearing him say it out loud punched a hole in her middle.

“What makes you think anyone will accept that? They hunted me half an hour ago.”

“That's exactly why they will accept you, Rachael. They fear you. There is an entire prophecy around you ending their old way of life. They might not allow you on the throne because they love you, but because they are scared of what you will do if they refuse.” Seeing her unconvinced frown, he added: “They will come to love you, Rachael. I know I—” Cale shook his head, biting his lips to be quiet. “Don't worry about it. Right now there are preparations to be made.”

Nodding in defeat, she sat closer. At least she wouldn't have to do any of this on her own. Cale would advise her, and lead her into the right direction.