The Demigod Proving (57 page)

In his mind, the scales tipped.

Calla stepped forward toward the Master. “I’m coming with you. Right now, you need someone with you.”

Athanaric nodded, his eyes blank, his face void of expression.

Calla turned and motioned for Teirn to come to her.

“And Teirn will come with us. He needs to learn this lesson.”

For the briefest moment, her eyes met Wrend’s. They narrowed and became sharp. She would do anything to help Teirn inherit the Master’s throne.

Well, Teirn could have the throne. Wrend didn’t want it.

He felt light at the realization, even despite the difficulty that lay ahead of him. A hope that he hadn’t felt in weeks descended over him.

He’d made his choice.

“Of course,” the Master said. “You both will come with me.” He swept his gaze from Teirn to Wrend. “You both need to learn this lesson, or else only one of you would be here now.”

A warm hand slipped into Wrend’s, and he looked down at Leenda, surprised at her touch.

“I’ll stay by your side,” she whispered.

“You’ll get yourself killed,” he said.

She met his gaze with unflinching hesitation.

“I’ve come this far, and I’m not leaving you again. You’re my mate. I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you. Though it cost me my life.”

“It might just,” he said.

He tightened his grip on her hand. Her steadiness reassured him, gave him strength. He hardly knew her, but it felt right, and it gave him comfort.

The Master gave her a stony look and shook his head.

“I’ll deal with you shortly. When this is over. But if you cause any trouble in the meantime, I’ll take care of you immediately.”

She lifted her chin and gave him a sturdy look, as if she stood just as tall as him, instead of a fourth of his height. She opened her mouth to speak, but Wrend interrupted her by taking a step forward, to stand in front of her.

“She’s with me. And she’ll be
staying
with me.”

Blood rushed through his skull at this defiance. But it felt so right. He didn’t need to cow before the Master.

She gasped. Calla pshawed. Teirn stared with wide eyes.

He felt emboldened not only by his recent victory over the Master—for surely that was what he’d achieved by saving Rashel’s life—but also by Leenda’s presence, especially when she squeezed his hand. He didn’t care if he was a draegon or not, or if she was his mate or not. He didn’t even care if she was insane—which, maybe, she was; but if she was, than so was he. Her courage and determination inspired him. He needed to be like her. And he would be.

The Master’s eyes bore down. His lips pursed. The hot wind blowing from the buttes in the background stirred up dust around the draegon zombie. In the distance, directly between the plateaus, a contingent of Hasuken waited with green banners.

The Master nodded. “Very well. Let’s be off.”

He turned and bounded toward the draegon. In several leaps he threw his leg over the saddle and settled down. He grabbed the reigns and pulled them up, so that the draegon stood on its hind legs and lifted him high into the air.

“Come,” he told them, motioning. “We have a country to save from itself.”

Chapter 73: Inexorable path of violence

I have never actually participated in any negations where both parties sincerely wished to arrive at a compromise. That may be my fault.

-Athanaric

Wrend mounted his horse and Leenda sat behind him, her arms around him and her body pressed against his back. Her closeness made him bold, gave him hope. Calla and Teirn each mounted their horses, and they all rode along behind the Master.

Wrend formed a vague plan: during parley he would ally himself with the Hasuken delegation. He had no idea if he could successfully make the switch without the Master killing him—or if the Hasuken would even accept him. Even if they did, maybe he would perish soon enough, since the army of paladins would probably destroy the Hasuken force.

He rode with Leenda behind the three demigods, who stayed just behind the draegon. For most of the half-mile trot along the hard-packed dirt road, up through the stone ruins of an ancient city, Teirn and Calla took up the rear. But as they approached the crumbling wall that separated them from the Hasuken delegation, Teirn brought his mount alongside Wrend’s.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he whispered.

Leenda glared at Teirn. “Shut it.”

“Leenda,” Wrend said, “it’s a valid question.”

“A valid question?”

Ignoring the slightly alarming sensation that he didn't know how to handle Leenda's spunk, Wrend turned back to Teirn and shrugged. He had no answer to the question—not one that he could give Teirn.

“Just trust me. All will be well, soon.”

He dared not say more, knowing that the Master had excellent hearing.

Teirn gave him a skeptical look, and as their eyes locked a heavy weight fell over Wrend’s shoulders. Betraying the Master would end the proving. Wrend would trade his brother—and everything else—for an ideal.

Was it worth it?

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Teirn said.

Wrend shrugged again and placed one hand on Leenda’s hand at his waist, and leaned over to put his other hand on Teirn’s shoulder. Confusion and fear dominated Teirn’s eyes, but couldn’t drown out the concern. It might, Wrend realized, be the last time he and Teirn spoke on friendly terms.

“No matter what happens,” Wrend said, “you’re my friend and brother.”

It felt important to make that clear.

Teirn swallowed hard, nodded with tight lips and serious eyes, and fell back to ride with Calla.

Leenda leaned in close and whispered. “You’re too nice.”

Wrend shrugged. She had no idea what had passed between he and Teirn—recently, and through the years. Perhaps, someday, he and Teirn would find a way to live in peace. The thought almost made him reconsider his course of actions.

They ascended an incline toward the wall. The Hasuken waited some distance back, on the opposite side. Among the Hasuken delegation, Naresh sat with another man at the front, atop a black stallion with its mane braided down its neck. The ten men behind him sat atop horses, each carrying a pike with a triangular green banner hanging from the tips. Their mounts nickered and sidestepped as the draegon approached the wall.

When the Master reached a gap in the wall, the Hasuken next to Naresh motioned for him to halt. He had a hooked nose and sat atop his black steed with such a haughty air he looked like an eagle perched atop a tree, staring down on vultures tearing at carrion. He wore full armor, with a great plume of green feathers hanging down his back, from the top of his helm.

“That’s far enough. If you’d like to come closer, dismount that abomination and approach on foot.”

The Master pulled on Cuchorack’s reigns and dismounted. Leenda tensed behind Wrend and shook her head.

“It
is
an abomination,” she said. “You should’ve seen yourself in your prime. You were a mighty thing.”

With the Master dismounted, the draegon zombie lay on the road, forelegs crossed, head lifted to observe. It had dead eyes. Patches of fur had fallen from its neck. It focused on the Master, seeming to hardly notice anyone else around it.

Could he really have inhabited that body, been a draegon? It felt unreal. And what did it mean, now that he had a human body?

The Master gestured for his entourage to follow him. He led them through a broken section of the wall, to the group of Hasuken. He towered over his enemies by ten feet. In one hand he held a staff perpendicular to the ground without placing any weight on it. It was at least as tall as him; considering the length of his arm, the staff would give him a reach of twenty feet or more. He also wore a sword at his side, and that was at least as tall as Wrend. The three demigods stood behind him, and Wrend brought his horse wide to their left, while Teirn and Calla moved to their right.

A mile in the distance, down a gradual ridge, the Hasuken army waited. The foot soldiers comprised a bulk of the army, but a significant number of cavalry brandished lances and banners. Forty thousand total. Even if they fought well, they couldn’t overcome the paladins.

Naresh’s eyes fell on Wrend, and the old man raised an eyebrow in question. Wrend understood the query: Naresh wanted to know if Wrend had come to his senses, if he’d determined to do what was right.

Wrend’s heart began to pound, and he nodded once, subtly.

“I’ve come,” the Master said, “to claim rule over Hasuke. The only terms I will accept are those of your surrender.”

The eagle-faced man shook his head. “We reject your demand.”

“It’s not a demand. It’s an offer. Your nation suffers without a god, and I offer my protection and leadership.”

“Then why do you come with an army?”

“There are always some who don’t know what’s best for them.”

Wrend cringed. Though the eagle-faced man bore himself with pride and spoke with surety, his confidence couldn’t compete with the Master’s utter conviction that he knew what was best, and had the authority to force that on others.

Wrend began to ease his horse to one side. Once he made his move obvious, he would have to make the switch quickly, get out of the Master’s striking range.

“What are you doing?” Leenda whispered in his left ear, on the side away from the Master.

He turned to her. “Just trust me.”

The eagle-faced man chuckled and shook his head again. “Then you’ll have to convince all forty thousand of us, because not one of us wishes to have you as our god. We're free men, under no god’s yoke. And we’ll stay that way or perish.”

The Master nodded and pointed at Naresh. “I see, then, that the Godslayer has corrupted you. He'll be the first to die.”

The man laughed and looked at Naresh.

“He’s our liberator. He saved us from our ‘god’s’ tyranny.”

Naresh remained silent and glanced at Wrend.

“Then this parley is over,” the Master said, and turned.

Wrend nearly spurred his horse—for he saw that this might be his last moment to make his choice—but stopped as the eagle-faced man stoop up in his stirrups and shouted at the Master.

“Be warned! This day your life is in danger!”

The Master stopped with his back toward the Hasuken. He looked over his shoulder, his face un-amused and unafraid.

Eagle-face continued, still standing.

“If you don’t retreat from this field of battle, we’ll bring death and destruction upon you and your people. If you bring this war to us, we’ll overcome and bring the war to you.”

The Master rounded on him, his teeth bared and his eyes burning. He gripped the staff with both hands. For a moment, Wrend thought the parley would break out into a scuffle as the Master took three steps toward the Hasuken.