Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign (Worlds of the Crystal Moon, Book 1) (83 page)

He reached down and pulled the covers back to get a better look. He now had his target in sight. He reached forward with both hands, but he had to pull them back to stop himself from sneezing—a close call. Once again, he reached forward and concentrated on his target. During this series of moments, there would be no interruptions, and he would finish the job.

He snatched and squeezed. There would be no struggle. His victim was not strong enough. Double D relaxed his grip on the pillow he had grabbed off the bed and then fluffed it up. He quietly crawled beneath the covers and drifted off to sleep with the old man sleeping in his own room three doors down. The assassin had much to do the following Peak and wanted to be up and gone before the old man woke up. He would hate to be a source of irritation because the old man deserved better.

Over the next six Peaks, Double D scouted the castle and settled on the perfect spot to assassinate the prince. He moved around the royal house with his mask on and remained invisible to everyone. His plan was perfect and required just the right set of circumstances to carry it out. But first, the general needed to be ended.

Gessler Village

George arrived in Gessler with Kepler not due for another 6 Peaks. There was still plenty of sunlight. The mage asked around until he found the Bloody Trough Inn. He figured out which window would be best for Kepler to enter and paid the owner of the inn to reserve that room before leaving to survey the area. The mage needed to find the perfect spot to teleport when returning to the village.

After a while, he stumbled across the entrance to a mine just east of the village. About 20 paces to the left of the opening was a tree that was tucked against the hillside. He walked over, looked around its base, and realized there was enough room between the hillside and the branches to teleport. To ensure the spot was perfect, he watched how many people came and went from inside the mine. There was little traffic.

Using his sword, George created a pocket within the limbs and cleared away the branches he felt would interfere. At the base, he smoothed the ground to make sure it was level. By the moment he finished, he was familiar enough with the area to avoid a mistake. Just to be sure, he stood inside his wooden cocoon to memorize every detail.

Once confident his surroundings were committed to memory, he walked to the other side of the village and took a practice run. Crossing his fingers and taking a deep breath, the mage closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was standing behind the tree, tucked in his branched alcove.

A smile crossed the mage’s face. Satisfied with his success, the next stop was his mother-in-law’s guesthouse. George closed his eyes and disappeared.

The General Absolute Prepares for Battle

The City of Brandor

Double D arrived at the arena early and hid beneath the stadium where the fighters prepared for battle. He was invisible and had worn his mask since leaving the old man’s home. He hid in the wooden rafters above the staircase that ascended to the fighting surface. He was waiting for the moment when the trumpets would sound.

The assassin reached inside his pouch and produced a dart. He had laced its tip with his finest poison, Polasadis—a poison extracted from asp harpies found in the forest of Kyll, a dark forest on the world of Trollcom. He put the dart into a slender tube that was four hands long, lifted the weapon to his mouth and then waited.

The trumpets sounded. As expected, the general ascended the dark staircase. There were torches on the walls, but they cast just enough light to keep the men from stumbling.

As the general passed beneath him, Double D blew into the tube as soon as he saw the nape of Justin’s neck. The dart flew through the air, hit its target and delivered its wicked poison into the general’s bloodstream. Justin reached back and swatted at the back of his neck and knocked the dart into the shadows.

“Are you alright, General?” one of his bodyguards questioned.

Justin held up his hand to see if there was blood, but the darkness of the passageway prevented him from seeing it.

The assassin was apprehensive. He felt as if the general was going to investigate.

Instead, the general shrugged. “I’m fine. Let’s get going.”

With the prick of the dart being pushed aside as a mild irritation, the murderer relaxed as Justin continued up to the arena. Double D’s smile widened as the crowd erupted at the sight of their champion.

Justin Graywind absorbed the screams of the mob. He had been in this position on many occasions, and his nerves were chiseled from the hardest stone. He walked into the sunlight and took his spot where no other fighter had been allowed to stand. After lifting his sword in the direction of his opponent, Justin pulled it back in front of his face and bowed to honor his next victim.

The general watched as the king gave the signal for the battle to commence. He turned to face his new enemy.

The man began his assault and darted toward him. Justin met this advance with equal measure. The warriors’ blades clashed. They spun in unison, as if their actions had been choreographed before their blades met again.

General Graywind backed away and nodded, acknowledging the skill his enemy displayed. He attacked again. A series of rapid, metal clashes followed from many angles before the general’s foot made contact with the man’s chest and sent him rolling.

Justin motioned for the man to stand, and smiled as the fans screamed with pleasure from the exchange. He circled for a bit, feeling his excitement growing. He lived for this atmosphere. It was his heartbeat. He circled and held his arms high, absorbing the chanting of his name, waiting for his enemy to engage.

As Justin turned to face his foe, his eyes began to dim. He tried to rub the cloudiness from them, but this did not have the effect he was after.
What’s wrong?
he thought.

Through the fog, the general caught a glimpse of his enemy’s attack. His instincts took over as he stepped to the side to deliver a crushing, left hand to the side of the man’s face. The impact was enough to send his enemy to the ground, hurt and disoriented.

The general realized he did not have moments to waste. It would not be long before he would be unable to see, and now his chest was beginning to pound. Toying with his opponent was not wise while in this condition.

He moved over his opponent and thrust his sword into the back of the man’s head. The point of his blade passed through his skull, exited his foe’s right eye and stuck into the wood of the arena floor beneath the sand. The mighty Graywind left his sword buried in his victim’s skull as he reached up to clutch his chest.

Unaware of the poison coursing through the general’s body, the crowd erupted with sadistic joy. Despite his weakened condition, Justin raised his hands to acknowledge the mob.

The general stumbled toward the center of the arena. His eyesight was almost gone, and now his breathing was extremely labored. Justin dropped his arms and stood motionless. He was frightened, the way a young boy is when he believes something is under his bed. The beast in the general’s own chamber closet was emerging to steal him in the night.

The crowd continued to cheer, but Justin was not comforted by it. His body was cold as his heart slowly thumped against his ribs. He grabbed at his chest again and lifted his voice to shout for the king’s healers, and then he collapsed to his knees.

The crowd instantly silenced.

The king rose to his feet. “Healers! Make haste!”

Justin’s breathing was becoming shorter by the moment. Every breath he took was a gasp to fight for the air he needed to survive. His lungs were filling with blood, and the weight of his body was now too much to bear. He crumbled onto his side and rolled to his back. As he looked toward the sky, he could no longer see the brightness of the sun, and the only sound he could hear was the blood that bubbled in his lungs.

With the healers taking too long, Sam jumped from the king’s box and ran to Justin’s side. He stretched out Justin’s legs to ensure the leader of the army was flat on his back and then put his ear to Justin’s mouth. He could hear the blood gurgling, and Sam knew he had made a mistake by leaving the Soresym’s essence in his chamber. There was no other medicine on this world that could save the general.

Sam turned toward the king’s box and shouted for Shalee. The sorceress floated down to the sand and then ran to his side.

Sam pointed at Justin and said, “Teleport back to our room and grab the griffin’s essence.”

The sorceress vanished. Only a moment or two passed before she reappeared and handed the pouch to Sam.

Sam pulled the cork and poured the urine into Justin’s mouth, but it was too late. The general’s muscles had shut down, his tongue was the size of a small apple, and with his jaw locked, he was no longer able to swallow.

“Use Precious!” Sam ordered. “Make him swallow it!”

Shalee lifted Precious, but no words came out of her mouth. Her arm dropped, and the butt end of the staff buried into the sand. “I don’t know the words for that, Sam. I can’t do anything for him.”

“Teranay!”
Sam responded. “
Teranay
means swallow.”

Without hesitation, Shalee lifted her staff. “Precious,
teranay
!”

Justin’s body began to shake as the magic tried to force the essence beyond his tongue to make him swallow it, but it did not work. The general’s tongue was too large. It was so swollen that it defeated Shalee’s magic.

The horror in Sam’s eyes served as his reaction.

Shalee dropped to the sand and landed on her knees. Her guilt was epic as she lifted Justin’s head onto her lap. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t strong enough.”

The general’s ears did not hear Shalee’s apology as the king rushed across the sand and dropped down next to his friend. Keldwin was not diplomatic in his actions as he shoved Shalee aside to take the general’s head upon his lap.

The king recognized that his moments with his beloved friend were short. He leaned over to whisper in Justin’s ear, not realizing his voice could not be heard. “You’ll always be my champion, my friend. You’ll be remembered in the pages of old. Pass well, mighty Graywind. I shall be with you in Mosley’s Heaven soon enough.”

The general’s last moment on Grayham would not be peaceful. His powerful hand reached up and grabbed the collar of Keldwin’s armor as his body convulsed.

The king’s eyes were filled with sorrow as the last bit of life abandoned the general’s body, and his eyes closed forever. The mighty Graywind’s grip relaxed, his arm went limp, and his powerful hand dropped to the sand.

A long series of moments passed as the arena sat in silence, but Keldwin’s mind was churning.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You deserved a noble end.
As the silence continued, the king began to question.
How could you pass when no one touched you?
The king’s eyes captured a glimpse of the blood that was smeared on the side of Justin’s neck.
Have you been betrayed?

The king took a closer look. He slowly rolled Justin to his side and noticed the welt that had been left behind by the dart. The king rubbed his finger across the back of his friend’s neck. As he did, he became convinced that the reason for his friend’s passing was, indeed, betrayal. Keldwin stood and shouted, “Guards! Secure the arena! No one leaves until everyone has been searched!”

The king redirected his attention toward the healers. They took the brunt of his anger. “What good are you if you couldn’t stop the general from passing? I should weigh you down and cast you into the depths of the sea.”

The pain in Keldwin’s heart was agonizing. He and Justin had been friends since they were boys. Justin’s father had also served under the late King of Brandor as a high-ranking officer, and as children they shared the same teacher while studying the arts of war. During countless sparring engagements, Justin had often thrown Keldwin to his back.

The boys had done everything together: hunting, fishing, riding, playing, and when they were old enough to appreciate women—hunting of a different kind. The general had always been the better fighter, and when Keldwin ascended to the throne, he watched Justin fight his way to the position of General Absolute. When Justin slew the previous general, Keldwin felt honored as he appointed Justin the new leader of the army. Their friendship had come full circle, and the memories of their lives together would be his until he passed.

Keldwin would make everyone wait until the general’s body was cleared from the arena. One by one, the spectators were searched as they left. The guards desperately searched for any clues that would pertain to Justin’s passing, but they found nothing.

The people who waited in line were filled with anxiety. They had no idea what the king might do or what royal power Keldwin would invoke to appease his tormented mind.

The search for an explanation lasted through the night while the king found solace with Sam and Aaron in a small, secluded room beneath the arena. Keldwin collapsed in Sam’s arms.

Sam motioned for Aaron to give him a moment alone with the king. “Keldwin, I need you to listen to me. I know you’re hurting, but remember how Justin would’ve wanted his king, his friend, to remember him.”

The king pulled away. “I don’t know what to do, Sam. My heart is destroyed. No one knew how close we were. We’ve been friends since we were boys. I confided everything in him. When my queen passed, Aaron was just a babe. It was Justin who helped me be the father I needed to be. What do I do?”

“I think you know what Justin would say. He would tell you to be strong, and remember him with honor. He would tell you to live and enjoy the last few Peaks of your own life and not to waste them living in sorrow. Look forward to being with your friend in the afterlife that Mosley said he would provide for you.”

Sam paused, smiled and then reached up to place his hand on the king’s shoulder. He squeezed. “The general admired you, Keldwin. He spoke of it more than once when he was preparing me for my position.”