A World Without Heroes (57 page)

“I trust you are enjoying yourself,” the commander sneered. “You are currently protected by orders to inflict no unnecessary harm. Otherwise I would teach you to guard your tongue. Your impudence will not go unpunished for long.” He turned to his men. “Edmund—go to Harthenham and ascertain who we are pursuing. Bradford—take two men to Orin and find the pair who fled north. Cecil, take two men and track the man Eric pursued to the west. The rest of us are off to Felrook.”

CHAPTER
23
THE WORD

A
-rim-fex-en-dra-puse. Arimfexendrapuse.
The stupidest word Jason could have imagined. Utter nonsense. Supposedly it would unmake Maldor. He repeated the odd syllables in his mind, varying the inflection. If it failed, he could always try “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

For the past several days Jason had ridden east, under the watchful eye of Ian, the commander who had captured him. Six other heavily armed guards rode along as escorts. Ian had promised that before sunset today Jason would behold Felrook.

Throughout the journey Ian had remained tight-lipped about what specifically would happen to Jason. The commander gave ample hints that it would be unpleasant but offered no particulars. Jason hoped they would bring him before Maldor. Since the emperor should not suspect Jason had the entire Word, getting captured could turn into the perfect opportunity to finish his quest.

If he succeeded in destroying the emperor, Jason knew he might face immediate execution. But he was already facing torture or death in the dungeons of Felrook. How great would it be
to take down the emperor instead! He thought about the joy it would bring to Rachel, Galloran, Jasher, Tark, Nicholas, and all of the others who had helped him. He had already beaten the odds by surviving as long as he had. Maybe he would find a way to survive after defeating Maldor.

Still, he couldn’t keep a variety of fears from haunting him. What if they planned to brainwash the syllables out of his memory before bringing him before Maldor, to minimize the risk? Galloran was evidence that such precautions were within their power. What if they opted to never even bring him before Maldor? Or what if they gagged him?

With the sun approaching the horizon, Jason and his captors came through a narrow pass. A large valley spread out before them to the north, with Felrook in the distance. Jason did not know what exactly he had expected, but the reality surpassed anything he had anticipated.

A monstrous stronghold of iron and stone, the huge castle surmounted a tall island of rock in the center of a sprawling lake. The sheer cliffs of the island rose to great heights above the water, augmented by the monumental outer wall of the fortress. Four lesser rock formations surrounded the central island. Atop these satellite islands perched smaller fortresses, the two largest connected to the central stronghold by stone bridges, the other two by suspended walkways.

Further fortifying the intimidating complex, the ferry granting access to Felrook was encompassed by a formidable wall of its own. Three hills loomed near the lake, each crowned with a mighty keep, from which reserve forces could sally to harass assailing armies. Without atomic bombs or high explosives Jason could not conceive how Felrook could ever fall.

“Has Felrook ever been taken?” Jason asked Ian.

Ian snorted. “Felrook has never been attacked.”

Jason could believe it.

“Are we going to make it there tonight?” Jason asked.

“You have one last night to contemplate your fate,” Ian replied. “We’ll camp not far from here, then deliver you late tomorrow morning. I hope you’re ready to answer for your crimes. You cannot imagine the horrors that await.”

“Will I go to the dungeon?” Jason asked.

“You will answer for your behavior,” Ian promised cryptically.

Jason said nothing more as they rode forward and set up camp. After eating, all but two guards bedded down. Hands bound in front of him, Jason rested on his side. He had already tried to run off one night, earning a lump on the back of his head and a black eye. Jason knew it was futile to attempt another escape. All of his hopes were now focused on earning an opportunity to stand before the emperor.

Despite the long day riding, Jason found sleep elusive. He could not ignore that this was probably the final night of his life. His parents would never see him again, nor would his brother and sister. He would never see Matt or Tim. He would never play with Shadow. None of them would ever know what really happened.

When he finally slept, frustrating visions troubled him. He dreamed of his teeth falling out, of arriving for exams unprepared, and of searching for his parents in a chaotic crowd.

Until Drake shook him awake. “You’re the heaviest sleeper of the bunch,” the seedman chuckled.

Jason sat up, disoriented, hands unbound. The fire had burned low. He could see the figures of the soldiers sleeping around him.

“Keep your voice down,” Jason whispered urgently.

Drake grinned. “They can’t hear us anymore.”

“You mean . . .”

“The only tricky part was the sentries,” Drake said. “And they weren’t much of a challenge.”

Jason could hardly believe his ears. He looked around. “Who came with you?”

“I delivered Rachel to Tark and sent them northward,” Drake said. “I’ve been stalking your little caravan for days. I figured we might as well let them bring you most of the way.”

“You know about the Word?” Jason asked.

“Rachel filled me in,” Drake said. “Tark gave her the last syllable. The second, correct?”

“Yes.”

Drake rubbed the back of his neck. “I can hardly believe somebody finally pieced it all together. Rachel wanted to come. She tried to insist. But I reminded her that if you failed, she would become our last hope. Besides, I knew that alone I could successfully slip past our enemies and track you. Another person would have made the outcome less certain.”

“If I fail,” Jason said, “Rachel should share the syllables with someone else.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Drake said. “But you won’t fail, not if you have the syllables right.”

“You know how to get me in front of Maldor?” Jason asked.

“I do,” Drake replied. “Might be a one-way trip, and you’ll have to go alone, but I know how. Are you willing?”

The question made Jason pause. Drake had rescued him. They could run away. “Will there ever be a better opportunity?” Jason asked.

“To get in front of Maldor?” Drake verified. “The emperor no longer leaves Felrook. The only sure way to gain an audience with him is to ring the gong near the gate to the ferry. By imperial decree anyone can ring it and talk to the emperor. In practice
nobody ever touches it. Guards protect it, and everyone understands that while ringing the gong guarantees an audience with Maldor, it provides no assurances regarding the consequences of that audience.”

“So what do we do?” Jason asked.

“We leave now,” Drake said. “We get to the ferry before sunrise. I’ll create an opportunity, and you’ll ring the gong.”

Jason realized that unless he wanted to spend the rest of his life running from agents of the emperor, he had to finish this. Drake seemed committed and able. Here was a real chance to succeed where so many others had failed. If the gong would grant an audience with Maldor, he could fulfill his mission and maybe move on with his life.

“Let’s go,” Jason said.

Outside the wall protecting the ferry was a town considerably bigger than it had looked from afar. Drake and Jason rode into town before sunrise, both wearing clothing and armor taken from the fallen soldiers. Drake carried a bow and a quiver of twelve arrows. Jason had recovered his poniard, along with a regular sword and a crossbow. They passed numerous stables, several warehouses, various inns, diverse shops, and multiple garrisons.

After tying up their horses, Drake led Jason down a series of alleyways. From the shadowy shelter of an alley Drake indicated a roofed platform accessible by stairs on three sides. Sheltered by the roof, hardly visible despite the burning cressets nearby, the round shape of a large gong dangled from a crossbeam. Beside it hung a mallet on a chain. Jason counted four guards.

“I’ll climb onto the roof of that building across the street,” Drake said. “You’ll make your way to that shed over there.” He pointed.

“I see it,” Jason said.

“I’ll make my presence known by loosing arrows. Once I get started, you run for the gong and ring it loudly. I’ll ensure you get there.”

“What will you do afterward?” Jason asked.

“Try to get away,” Drake said. “My chances are poor. But as long as you ring that gong, and then say the Word when the time comes, it will be well worth the sacrifice. I’ve been waiting for this, Jason. I’m not sure I knew I was waiting, but I was. We should move before it gets any lighter. Ready?”

“Okay.”

Drake strolled across the street. Following his example, Jason wandered casually down the road to the shed. From the shed he would be able to approach the platform from the side while Drake shot arrows at the front.

Once he reached the shed, Jason kept out of view from the gong guards while watching the roof. Just as he was wondering why Drake was taking so long, he heard a strangled cry, and a guard toppled down the platform steps.

Jason broke from cover and rushed toward the platform. Guards were shouting and motioning at the roof, then dropping with arrows in them. Another pair of guards issued from a small building on the far side of the platform.

As Jason reached the base of the steps leading up to the gong, only one guard remained on the platform. He had taken cover behind a thick post holding up the roof. When he saw Jason charging up the steps, he emerged from his position, sword in hand, and an arrow instantly pierced his side.

Lunging up the steps two at a time, Jason reached the mallet, grabbed the handle, and smashed the head into the gong like he was swinging a baseball bat. The long, shimmering crash hurt his ears, but he wailed the gong again, and again, figuring the more
times he hit it, the less room there would be for argument.

“Enough!” called a guard, one of the two who had emerged from the guardhouse, and the only one without an arrow in him. He stood at the foot of the steps in front of the platform.

“I wanted to make sure,” Jason explained, wondering if Drake might still shoot the final guard.

“You’ll get your audience,” the guard assured him. He turned toward the roof where Drake hid. “He’ll get his audience,” he yelled. Then he looked up at Jason. “You may not like what happens afterward, but you’ll come before the emperor. Can I get your name?”