Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1) (29 page)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

QABALA WASTED NO time integrating Nerris back into life in the Aeternica. She announced a banquet to celebrate his return, with strong hints that she planned to announce their engagement at the festivities. She was busy, both with preparations and the day-to-day routine of a ruler, and barely saw her during daylight hours. He was escorted to her chambers every evening, where she would jump into his arms as soon as she could get out of her clothes.

He had his freedom of the red-brick palace as long as he agreed not to leave the grounds. Even so, he sometimes caught Falares, Lukas, or one of their lieutenants dogging his steps. Though she could be reasonably sure Nerris was not going to leave without his friends, Qabala wasn’t taking any chances. Nerris did manage to convince her Dist’s leg was in need of attention, and she sent Meeka to the dungeons to tend to him.

“Bed slave is but one of Meeka’s talents,” she told him. “She was trained in the healing arts by a graduate of Gauntlet, and often tended the wounds and ailments of those in Lord Kelke’s household. She is a fine prize for a slave.”

Nerris thanked her for that, and Meeka as well, biting his tongue on the matter of slavery for once. Nerris’s own wound had almost disappeared, but for a forming scar across his shoulder. The pain had all but faded, and the sustenance of real food allowed him to lose some of the gauntness he had acquired during his hellish ride to Palehorse. All in all, he was beginning to feel normal again.

As soon as his energy returned, he found himself in the yard of the Aeternica practicing his swordsmanship against a gaggle of young recruits eager to trade strokes with a Thrillseeker. It had been a while since he utilized a longsword, but quickly grew accustomed to the extra weight he did not have to suffer whilst wielding Noruken.

“You may have your katana back when our engagement is official,” Qabala told him in bed one night. “Keep up this good behavior and I may even release your friends, with a full apology of course.”

“Even Len-Ahl?” he asked.

She slapped him on the chest. “Do not mention that girl. Not here. She has information I need.”

“And when you get it you will release her?”

“Yes, yes. If that will make you happy, my love.”

After that exchange, he spent a good portion of the night proving he did not harbor any romantic feelings for Len-Ahl. Qabala had an insecurity where the half-faery was concerned, and their lovemaking temporarily alleviated those fears. Nerris spent a considerable amount of time whispering clichés from love poems in her ear as he thrust in and out of her, often wondering if he truly meant it or not.

It had seemed simple when she had them dragged into her great hall in chains. Escape was still foremost on his mind, but Qabala had a way of making him forget she was his foe. After spending some time with her, Nerris felt his passion rekindled, along with his desire to help her. He could not let his friends suffer while he enjoyed the luxuries of royalty, but neither could he get the slender warrior queen and her pure but corrupted aspirations out of his head.

So he practiced at battle with raw boys, no older than he had been when he fought in the Liberation of Agos. The fighting seemed the only thing in his life free of complication. An opponent stood across from him, with two blades the only barrier between victory and defeat, life and death.

One youth came at him with a roar, his blunted practice sword swinging down from overhead. Nerris parried the blow and hooked the boy’s leg with his foot, sending him sprawling. He held the point of his own blade to the youth’s throat.

“You overextended in your footing,” he said. “Remember that a sword is but one tool a warrior fights with. A shield can be used to batter you senseless as readily, and an arc too high is an open invitation to a kick in the gut. And then there’s this.” Nerris pointed to his own head. The boys followed his every move in rapt attention. “Your most powerful weapon of all. Develop your mind and you will have the advantage over many a man. Let it go to waste and it’s no more useful than a sword gone to rust.”

Nerris helped his opponent to his feet, and the boy smiled. “Thank you, your Constancy.”

Nerris frowned. “I am no Dume-General.”

“I hear you will be,” the boy said, and several of the others confirmed it. “It’s all over the Aeternica. They say the Aeterna will announce your engagement at the banquet and dub you a Dume-General.”

“Speculation and conjecture,” Nerris said. “Are we here to learn swordsmanship or gossip like scullery maids?”

The denial of being anything resembling women reminded him of similar admonishments he had endured at Gauntlet, except now the roles were reversed. He heard more than a few of Rhodias’s own words mixing in with his. He could practically hear his old trainer’s bellows every time one of the recruits lost his stance or leaned out too far while swinging his blade.

Shouts from the main gate startled him out of his memories, and he heard the echoing creak of the rising portcullis. A score of mounted men were admitted to the yard and came to a halt before him. Men-at-arms led a line of bedraggled prisoners in the direction of the dungeons. The lead horsemen wore the armor of Dume-Generals. All around him, the youths saluted. Green though they might be, respect for the chain of command had already been ingrained in their heads. Nerris didn’t salute, but examined the high officers. Since Falares and Lukas had not left the Aeternica, he had no idea who two of them were. The third, however...

The Dume in the lead dismounted and removed his helm. He had shaved his beard at some point in the intervening months, but Nerris knew those twinkling eyes and that head of gray hair.

“Rade,” he said, clasping hands with his old comrade’s gauntlet. The old man’s smile was infectious.

“Nerris,” Rade said. “I received word you had come back to us and I scarcely believed it, given our last conversation.”

“Circumstances beyond my control,” Nerris said. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Aye, you as well,” Rade said. “I have to admit, I almost didn’t recognize my own alias. Everyone calls me Dume Yorne now.”

“Yorne Radenos Regnak,” Nerris said, remembering what Professor Borrel had said about the Black Prophecies belonging to a place called Regnak Manor. “And what other fine gentlemen has Qabala raised to the Aeternal Council?”

The Dume on the right removed his helm, and Nerris recognized him also. Colonel Quin stared down at him with tired eyes. “Hello, Commander.”

Nerris clasped hands with his former subordinate. “I no longer command anyone, but it’s nice to see wisdom at work. The Aeterna couldn’t have picked a better man for the job.” And he meant it. Quin was a good man and a promising commander. It surprised Nerris that he actually approved of one of Qabala’s decisions.

The third Dume-General dismounted and removed his helm. This man’s face was marked by dark hair and a patch over his left eye. Nerris hadn’t thought to be acquainted with all three Dume-Generals, but this one was a shock. Not a pleasant one, either.

“Nerris Palada.” Valez Vaed’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Such a pleasure to see you once again.”

Nerris’s free hand went to his hilt, until he remembered he held a practice sword. Valez watched his movements with amusement. “What is he doing here?” he asked Rade between clenched teeth.

“You already know each other?” Quin asked.

“You’ll have to pardon my fellows,” Valez said. “They went through great lengths to get me here, and I did not have time to fill them in on our history. Even if I had expected to see you.” He turned to Quin. “Nerris and I were schooled together as cadets of Gauntlet.”

“Truly?” Rade asked Nerris.

“You no longer have that distinction,” Nerris said to Valez. “Your name was wiped from the records when you betrayed us to King Ullas’s army.” A familiar hate burned within him at the sight of the traitor. Valez and his friends had formed a company much like the Thrillseekers after the Liberation, and they had their share of encounters over the years, neither group ever quite able to put an end to the other. Until Miagama and the Akuma War, when Valez had lost Tarias Dinge and Maria Whitewater, the only two people he had ever cared for.

“Betrayal?” Quin said.

“Old history, your Constancy,” Valez said. “Nerris and I were born to hate each other. Masters with a blade, conflicting ideals, you know how it is.”

“Trust me, I don’t hate you near as much as King Owen does,” Nerris said.

Valez smiled. “Then I look forward to the day when our paths cross again.”

“I wouldn’t,” Nerris said. “He’ll kill you on sight. I’m struggling hard not to do the same right now.”

The riders behind the Dume-Generals cast nervous glances at each other, and Nerris could hear excited murmurs from the boys behind him. Valez merely scowled at the perceived challenge, reminding Nerris much of days gone by at Gauntlet when the dark-haired Yagol didn’t get his way.

Valez snorted. “That would be a neat trick with a blunted blade. Whatever happened to that katana you carried in Miagama? Did you bury it with Ketsuya?”

Nerris lunged at him, but Rade got in between them. “No, Nerris.”

“When I get my sword back I’ll bury it in that inflated skull of yours,” Nerris said. “Don’t you ever mention Ketsuya’s name.”

Rade turned to his fellow Dumes. “Your Constancies, we have had a long ride. I suggest you go to your quarters and refresh yourselves. Nerris, I would like a word in private.”

Nerris reluctantly tore his gaze from Valez’s sneering face and grunted. “Of course, your Constancy.”

He handed off his sword to one of the wide-eyed recruits and followed Rade into the keep and down a corridor, which wound around toward the palace gardens. It was late spring now, and the flowers were in full bloom. Purple, red, and lavender petals dotted the landscape of the garden, along with well-trimmed hedges and a few trees. A family of robins had even nested in one. As ever, the birds cared nothing about magical stones or cults. Life found its way, even in this bastion of sorrow.

“I have to say you look splendid in your new armor,” Nerris said. “The last time I saw you it was difficult to think of you as anyone except Rade, but now I see the Dume-General that once was.”

“Thank you,” Rade said, “though I fear, as ever, I am the rogue among the faithful.”

“Hardly. Lukas is timid, Falares is a bully, and where in the world did you dig up Valez Vaed?”

“Dume Valez now,” Rade said. “We’re supposed to give up our surnames and familial connections when we vow to uphold the Law of Eight.”

Nerris nodded. “Still, you are perhaps the only one who has Qabala’s true interests at heart.” He noticed Rade look around, as if to make sure no one listened. “You still haven’t told her, have you?”

“No,” Rade said. “I would aim to keep our secret just that. Tell me, Nerris, what have you been up to since you left us?”

“I did what you suggested,” Nerris said. “I went home. You were right, Rade. I am the Catalyst, and I’ve found the Stonechaser. She is here, imprisoned in the dungeons with my friends.”

Rade stopped, his eyes wide. “Here? This is disaster, Nerris! I never meant for the Stonechaser to cross paths with Qabala.”

“We didn’t have much choice,” Nerris said. “I don’t know how, but Qabala knew we were in Yagolhan and sent her thugs to grab us. And that’s not the worst of it. She has the first beacon, the treasure we took from a place forged by King Jinn himself.”

Rade shook his head. “Qabala has been questioning Prince Lahnel’s earth cleric. She knows all about the Stonechaser Prophecy and thinks she must have both stones.”

“I know,” Nerris said. “All she has talked about is Dist, Jhareth, and myself helping her find the Exemplus.”

“Qabala cannot be allowed to have them,” Rade said. “To do so would allow her absolute power. Should she wish for Eversor to be allowed entrance to this world, no one could stop her.”

“But if we find the Exemplus first, Len-Ahl will use it to fight the Fatexion. Are you sure you would be able to let your own daughter be destroyed, Rade?”

“It’s not quite as simple as all that,” Rade said. “You are a warrior and think in terms of battle. The fight of the two stones is not about destroying the other, but correcting what was done to it in antiquity.”

“What do you mean?”

“Back when I served Yahd Aeternus, I was still troubled by my old life,” Rade said. “My uncle, a once bright man who had practically raised me, was deteriorating into madness before my eyes. No one knew the cause, and I sought answers. I found them in an obscure tome in his manor, a collection of premonitions called the Black Prophecies.”

“I’ve heard something of this book,” Nerris said.

“That was where I learned of the nature of Eversor, the Tattered Man, the Doom Rock, all of it,” Rade said. “Guided by the spirit of Queen Angelica, I tracked down every prophecy I could to find a way to stop what was to come. I finally came across the Stonechaser Prophecy and set out to find the Catalyst and the Stonechaser, even at the expense of my vow to the Aeternus. What I found was your father.”

“And you defeated the Tattered Man.”

“For a time,” Rade said. “As you’ve no doubt seen from the fanatics in the streets, he is beginning to regain his power. But I was mistaken. The time was not yet ripe for both stones to emerge, and Derrin Palada was neither the Catalyst nor the Stonechaser. Now I believe that time has come. You must take the Stonechaser and leave this place, Nerris, no matter what the cost.”

“And if we do find the Exemplus?” Nerris asked. “Where will you stand?”

“I will be loyal to my daughter. To the end.”

“I see,” Nerris said. “You’ll fight against us to protect her?”

“You still don’t understand,” Rade said. “The stones will not destroy each other, because to do so would destroy the essence of our world. Indeed, they are two halves of the same power. They are not meant to fight each other; they are meant to be reunited.”

“And the Stoneholder will have the power to acknowledge or deny Eversor for good,” Nerris finished. “Either the corruption of the Doom Rock spreads or it is expunged.” It made sense. Two stones who shared equal power would only cancel the other out. They needed to banish Eversor from this world, not merely delay him again.