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Authors: David Dalglish

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BOOK: The Broken Pieces
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“You’re surrendering,” Gregane said, feeling stupid even as he said it. But he had to hear it for himself.

“Never enough,” Sebastian said, staring out the window from his bed. “All I’ve done, and it’ll never be enough. That priest, Luther…he came to me yesterday, just before you returned. He wants me to put all the North into their hands after my death. They don’t want puppet rulers anymore. They don’t want loyalty. They want to be everything, priest and lord and king. All that our father once owned, all that I now control…gone. Out of our family line forever.”

The parchment crinkled in Gregane’s hands as he fought down his rage at the thought of such a betrayal.

“Are you sure this is wise?”

Sebastian shook his head. For once he seemed melancholy, calm and sober.

“Sure? Of course not. But it is my right to rule, and if not me, then Arthur. This is my family’s land, and shall always be. Family.” He let out a bitter laugh. “You probably think it strange that I of all men would talk of family. Here I am, having tried to kill my brother, and I well know the peasants say I did the same to my father.”

“Milord!”

“Don’t tell me lies, Gregane.” Sebastian rubbed his eyes. “I did, too, but not for the reasons they guess. He wasn’t my father anymore, not by the end. At times he didn’t even know my name. He was a child, just a child. Arthur felt the same, and tried to give our father a potion to make him sleep a few days so he might take over rule. I almost let him do it, too.”

Gregane knew all of this, all but what Sebastian wanted to say. He tried to think, to understand whatever was motivating him to surrender now.

“Why didn’t you?” he finally asked.

“Because I didn’t think Arthur would be a good lord,” Sebastian said. He laughed. “He wanted to put our deranged, insane father to sleep instead of killing him. Arthur didn’t have the strength, but I did. That…that…shell of a man was ruining the memory of Rodrick Hemman. I would know how to rule. I would know how to play the game of politics and priests. Nothing would take over my land, and I’d do whatever I must to keep it. Arthur’s honor would only be a hindrance. But now I’ve gone in too deep. I’m terrible at a game I thought I could master. My wife died years ago without blessing me with children, and I have no stomach to remarry. I’ve no heirs, and no love. But Arthur has the love of the people. He has the vagrants, the criminals, and the outlaws all swearing devotion. He has the strength to rule, so let him rule.”

Sebastian shook his head.

“But not the priests. This land cannot be a land of Karak. Let them teach. Let them spread their word, and every man from peasant to lord believe as they choose. But I cannot let them rule.”

Gregane felt himself at a loss.

“I will do as you say, milord. I will take this letter, though I must ask…do you think Arthur will accept?”

“I’ll be giving him everything he wants. Why wouldn’t he accept?”

“Because he swore your death,” Gregane said. “You sent assassins to kill him, and an army to surround and starve him. To him, you were once his brother, but I fear you are no longer. You are just an enemy to be defeated. To let you live would be to break his vow. There is also the matter of Kaide. I’m not sure living out your life peacefully in your castle is what he desires.”

Sebastian’s head dipped low, and he closed his eyes.

“Then pray Arthur isn’t foolish enough to let his vow interfere with the fate of all our lands. Convince him, Gregane. Tell him of my fate, and the desires of Karak’s priests. Surely he must still hold some measure of love for me, enough to side against that bastard cannibal. Most of all, tell them to hurry. They no longer march to take the North from my hands. They march to take it away from Luther’s, and they don’t even know it yet.”

“I will ride immediately,” Gregane said. “How soon must I have their answer?”

Sebastian looked up at him again, and his eyes were red with veins.

“You don’t understand, do you?” he said. “Luther claimed he’d leave me to my fate at Arthur’s hands, but I am no fool. In two days, I will give him my answer, and it will be the strongest denial my cowardly self can summon. And then they’ll capture me, torture me, kill me, whatever it is they need to get what they desire. There’s a reason that army camps outside our walls. Ride, Gregane, ride fast and hard. And maybe, just maybe, shed a tear for me two days hence.”

Gregane bowed low.

“Keep soldiers with you at all times,” he said. “And don’t let any servant of Karak through these gates. Survive, milord, just somehow survive.”

“Thank you. Now go.”

Gregane left for the stables, stopping only to pack a few provisions that would get him to the nearest town. He told no one else of his leaving, for he did not want to risk word getting back to Luther. Ten miles out from the Castle of the Yellow Rose, the smoke from the fires of Luther’s camps just a distant haze, Gregane realized he’d forgotten to have Sebastian seal the letter with his ring.

 

 

 

6

W
hen they marched out from Willshire, Valessa was not with them, but Darius trusted her to follow. Despite Daniel’s arguments against it, Darius had ensured Valessa a pivotal role in their attack. The Blood Tower, even with its skeleton crew, could still easily hold off the hundred or so men allied together under Daniel’s rule. They had no siege weapons, no catapults to bust gaps in the surrounding walls, no ram to batter down the gates. What they did have, though, was a woman who could walk through walls and ignore the strikes of any blade.

“Why not let her kill every last one of them?” Daniel had asked when first hearing the plan.

“Because of Lilah. That lioness is powerful, and wields the fires of the Abyss. If anything can destroy Valessa, it’s her. Get me inside, and surround me with men, and we’ll find victory.”

Strong words, Darius knew, even though deep down he was terrified of facing another of those lions. He’d been drunk on battle the last time, every hair on his body tingling with electricity. It’d seemed his faith in Ashhur could not have been stronger, and when Kayne leapt toward him, ready to crush him with muscle and fire, he’d heard the command to stand, and obeyed. His sword had pierced through the lion, and as it had collapsed into molten rock and burning blood, he’d emerged unscathed. It was a miracle, of that he had no doubt.

And half their plan relied on repeating a miracle.

“Darius?”

Darius startled from his thoughts. He walked at the rear of their makeshift army, enjoying the silence. A young man, newly conscripted from the people of Willshire, bowed low and spoke with a sense of urgency born of nervousness.

“Forgive me if I am intruding,” he said, “but Lieutenant Coldmine wishes to speak with you.”

“Tell Daniel I’ll be there shortly.”

The man bowed, then hurried off. Darius shifted his pack of provisions from his right shoulder to his left, then upped his pace. They walked through soft hills that seemed to roll on forever, the grass up to his thighs. Although there was a worn path between the town and Blood Tower, Daniel hadn’t wanted to use it. Instead they’d walk east until they hit the Gihon, and then follow the river south, all in hopes of avoiding any scouts placed along the road. Decked out in his platemail, the morning sun rising in the sky, Darius felt sweat soaking into his tunic as he began to jog.

Daniel rode at the front of the line, one of the few who had a horse. Along the way, Darius heard calls and cheers, people slapping him on the back or shouting his name like it was a ward against their enemies. It should have made him feel proud, but instead just made him all the more self-conscious. Their lives depended upon him, every last one of them. Well, him and Valessa, and only because he’d vouched for Valessa’s trustworthiness.

“The youngster called you Lieutenant,” Darius said as he slowed down to a walk once he finally reached Daniel’s side. “With Robert’s passing, shouldn’t you be a Sir now?”

“I’ll consider myself a proper knight once I have Blood Tower under my control,” Daniel said. “It’s a sad knight who can’t hold his own lands. But enough of that. I’m glad you could join me. You inspire courage in my men, and it doesn’t seem right for you to march in the rear.”

“Does it matter where I am, so long as I’m with you?”

“You inspire only when you’re seen, and in case you haven’t noticed, my men have eyes in the front of their heads, not the back.”

“So is that all you called me for, to let your men stare at my ass as we walk?”

Daniel chuckled.

“Somewhat crude for a paladin, aren’t you?”

“The transition to Ashhur is still in progress.”

“Give us some privacy,” Daniel told the men who marched with them. They saluted, then held back so Darius and Daniel might travel many yards ahead. The humor they’d shared dwindled, and Darius could tell something bothered the man.

“What troubles you?” Darius asked once they were alone.

“Plenty,” Daniel said. “Though I supposed I should narrow that down. You’ve vouched for that witch woman repeatedly. I guess I want you to do it again, and maybe this time it’ll settle my mind. Are you sure we don’t march right into Cyric’s hands at the tower? Without her, we are dead against the walls.”

“She’s no witch,” Darius said, harsher than he meant.

“Then pray tell, what is she?”

Darius frowned, and thought over that first night she’d come to him, explaining her situation.

“Unfinished,” he said at last. “That is what she is.”

“She’s living shadow, Darius. Your own blade hurts her, yet we are to trust her now. You say she’s sworn to kill you, and yet you vouch for her, say we should trust her. I don’t understand either of you, and given how everything tonight relies on you both, that’s not comforting.”

“She’s in torment. She’s lost, confused, and had her faith in Karak shaken. I sympathize, and if I can help her somehow, I will. But if there’s anything I know for certain about Valessa, it’s her hatred of Cyric.”

Daniel’s horse stumbled over a soft patch of earth hidden by the tall grass. Steadying her best he could, they stopped a moment to check for injury. There was none, and hearing this, Daniel sighed with relief and patted the beast on the neck.

“That’s my girl,” he said. “Bad luck to break your horse’s leg on the way to battle.”

“That’s why I tend to walk everywhere.”

“So you say. Just admit you’re frightened of horses.”

“Horses don’t frighten me.”

Daniel grinned at him. “Then what does?”

“Half-insane priests who think they’re gods?”

Darius gave a smile, tried to laugh away the real fear he felt at meeting Cyric a second time. It didn’t work.

“Do you know if Cyric will be there?” the older man asked.

Darius let out a sigh.

“Valessa swears he’s still out in the Wedge, doing what, I can only imagine. But if we’re to take the Blood Tower, now is the time, during his absence. Once that’s done, we can send messages south along the river alerting the king to what’s truly going on in the North.”

Daniel fell silent a moment, retreating into his thoughts.

“Again we trust that woman,” he said, breaking his silence. “You’re a good man, Darius, and seem to have a stable head on your shoulders. Listen to me now, even if you have to humor me. When Luther left Cyric at the tower, Robert did his best to placate him. Everything he did, it was in fear of angering the priesthood. But we went beyond that. We didn’t challenge Cyric when he told us he was performing a ritual. I tried to convince Robert to stop him, and I even set up plans just in case something went wrong. But Robert trusted Cyric. Not a lot, but enough. He thought no priest could be mad enough to openly revolt against the king’s men. But he did. Cyric summoned those two lions, most of our men knelt like the cowardly sods they were, and suddenly the rest of us were fleeing out into the night.”

“What is your point?” Darius asked.

“My point is that you, of all people, should understand that trust, lies, truth, and sanity no longer matter when you deal with a fanatic. Don’t pretend to understand Valessa. Don’t think you know why she does what she does. She’s not just unfinished; she’s a broken thing, and it’s the broken pieces that are most likely to cut when you touch them.”

“I was a broken thing,” Darius said softly. “Jerico still reached down for me, asking me to stand.”

“Jerico was a good man,” Daniel said, nodding. “I am proud to have fought beside him. But the rest of the world isn’t that good. It’s just not. Be wary, Darius. That is all I ask.”

“If I may?” Darius asked, gesturing behind him.

“Stay close, if not at the front,” Daniel ordered.

Darius let his pace slacken, and slowly the men marched past him, their armor and weapons rattling. Stopping for a moment, Darius looked about, searching for Valessa. He felt an intense desire to talk to her, to listen to her words and weigh them against what Daniel had said. But there was no sign of her, not in any form he recognized. Shaking his head, he walked on, dreading the night far worse than before.

BOOK: The Broken Pieces
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