Avondale (8 page)

Lexi stood up, her legs shaky as her berserker rage faded. The fat man lay at her feet in a puddle of black blood, his body cut to ribbons. Against the wall of a nearby building the skinny man sat, his head flopped onto his chest which had stopped moving moments before as his life’s blood ran from the severed vein in his groin.

Lexi took in the scene, knowing that she wasn’t the only person seeing it or seeing that she had slain two men in the savage fight. Then she turned and ran into the night.

Each day Tiberius felt himself growing stronger. After four nights of long practice, Tiberius still had to chant the spells, but he could feel the movement of magic almost immediately. Sometimes it was as if he stoked the magic around him into action and at other times, it was as if he awoke to the movement of magic already in motion.

He could sense the magic more easily, and as he spent his days around the city searching for Lexi, he felt it stronger in some places and almost nonexistent in others, but always it seemed to call to him. His studies at the temple complex seemed more useless and more laborious than ever before, even though he felt magic moving strongly in parts of the temple. All he wanted to do was study and practice magic, but even with his days so busy, he often found himself thinking about Lexi. She was always on his mind, usually hiding behind whatever problem he was occupied with, and he found himself wondering what she would think about the effect of a certain spell, or an idea he had for getting away from his family. The more he dreamed of the future, the more he realized he wanted her to be part of it.

He spent his evenings with his family, although it was easy for him to stay quiet and hardly be noticed. Still, he felt as if he was on the verge of giving himself away at any moment. His brother Leonosis frightened him most of all. His father was tired, and happy just to drink his wine until he was oblivious to anything else. His mother and sisters were busy with court gossip and his older brother Brutas spent his time trying to impress the heir apparent. But Leonosis was constantly aware of all that was happening around him. Whenever the Earl’s firstborn son looked at Tiberius, the younger man felt as though his older brother saw right through him.

Then, when Tiberius could slip away, he returned to his room and practiced. Healing small cuts was easy now. He could summon the magic, direct it, and watch his work. It was fascinating to see the skin of fruit seal up before his eyes. The magic reminded Tiberius of an overzealous hound, tugging at the leash. At first he was pulled by the magic’s eagerness, but soon he became the master, harnessing the power of the magic and directing it.

Tiberius had no way of practicing the other spells in his book, which called for tutelage from an accomplished wizard and then work with the sick. Tiberius was forced instead to memorize the spells, practice chanting them alone in his room, and feeling the force of the magic even though he could not direct it into anything. Each spell felt different, as if the magic was moving differently. There was a rhythm to each spell, from the way it was pronounced, to the way the magic felt to Tiberius. He soon began to chant the spells in the same way he felt the movement of the magic, so there was a harmony between wizard and magic. He wasn’t sure if that was the correct form, but it felt right, so he kept at it.

Each night, he practiced just one spell. Memorizing each one, focusing on the way his pronunciation of the strange words effected the flow of the magic. On the morning of the sixth day of his private studies, he was summoned to the wall by Rafe. Tiberius’ oldest friend wasn’t a senior officer yet, but he had enough clout to send one of the enlisted men to fetch Ti, who was enjoying his weekend. He had been planning to go in search of Lexi. He hadn’t seen her since he’d found the book and he was afraid that she was angry with him. He had thought that she would understand, but she had never disappeared for so long before.

He climbed up on the high wall and made his way down to where Rafe was waiting along with a squad of soldiers. The group looked nervous, and Rafe had been moping for days, but had an exciting grin on his face as Tiberius approached. Ti couldn’t imagine what his friend would have called him up onto the city wall for.

“What’s going on?” Tiberius asked.

“A pack of Graypees,” Rafe said happily.

“Where? Why wasn’t the alarm sounded?”

“They’re below us, right next to the wall,” Rafe explained. “They must have come up during the night. They’re too close to the city walls to be seen from the watchtower.”

“What are they?” asked one of the soldiers.

“They’re beastly lizards,” Rafe said. “Bigger than a full grown man, some are even larger than horses.”

“But their hides are amazing,” Tiberius added. “My father killed the first one, with a spear.”

“That’s debatable,” Rafe said.

“You know my father killed the first one.”

“That’s not what
my
father says.”

“Anyway, they used a special spear,” Tiberius continued. “More of a harpoon really”

“With barbs on the spearhead,” Rafe added.

“And a rope on the butt end. They speared the beasts and then hauled them up onto the city walls.”

“The skins are worth thousands of gold crowns,” Rafe said. “Not to mention only four men have ever actually done it.”

“We used to pretend we were hunting the Graypees as kids,” Tiberius said. “I guess today we are for real.”

“No offense, my lord,” said one of the soldiers. “But why call the Earl’s son? There are plenty of us to help you.”

“None of you know how to hold the rope,” Rafe said. “And I don’t have time to teach you. I’ll get one shot at these devils. If everything isn’t perfect, they’ll flee out of range and we’ll miss our chance.”

“We used to practice as kids,” Tiberius said again, feeling a little inadequate in the group of solders. “We developed a system.”

“You don’t mind me taking the shot do you?” Rafe asked.

“Of course not,” Tiberius said. “You are much better with a spear than I am.”

“The Earl’s son doesn’t need to know weapons,” teased one of the soldiers. “That’s what we’re for, to fight his battles.”

The others laughed—all except Rafe, who looked angrily at the soldier.

“I’m sorry sir,” the man said. He was the oldest member of the squad, even though he was below Rafe in rank. “I meant no offense.”

“Lord Tiberius doesn’t use the sword, but that doesn’t mean you should underestimate him,” Rafe said. “Are you going to show him, Ti?”

Tiberius put his hand on the whip that was curled neatly and tied onto his belt with a simple leather thong. Tiberius had always been fascinated with whips since he was a child and had seen cattleman driving a heard of angry looking steers with a long bullwhip.

“No,” Tiberius said. “It’s not important.”

The soldier looked smug, but Tiberius ignored him. He knew the older man thought he was afraid, but he didn’t care. His time with his best friend was short. He knew he would have to leave the palace and even the city proper soon enough. His quest for magical prowess was like a raging fever, occupying nearly every thought. He would leave soon, but if he and Rafe could successfully kill a Graypee, they would be remembered together for years. And it would be a good way for Tiberius to say goodbye to his oldest friend.

“Just get the rope,” he said.

“It’s on its way.”

“How did you even know they were here?” Ti asked.

“Holsan heard them as he was patrolling along here,” Rafe explained. “He told me about them and I knew immediately what they were.”

“I want to see them.”

Ti leaned out over the wall’s crenelated edge. It made him dizzy to look straight down. They were over thirty feet above the steeply sloping ground. The top of the wall was built out larger than the wall itself, so Ti was forced to lean over the edge to look down. Rafe took hold of his belt to steady him. His friend had always been bigger and stronger than Tiberius, but he had never acted superior. They were the same age and for years had played together as children. When they were old enough, Rafe entered the Earl’s service and Tiberius was sent to the temple to train as a Paladin, but they had remained friends, seeking out each other’s company whenever possible. Tiberius knew he would miss Rafe even more than his own family when he left.

“Sir, here comes Holsan with the spear,” said one of the soldiers.

They all made way for the soldier who was carrying a long spear with a strange looking head. Rafe hauled Tiberius back onto the wall and then took the spear. The look on his face as he hefted the big weapon was sheer joy. Tiberius took the rope and inspected it. He ran the rope through his fingers, looking for any frayed edges, but the rope was in excellent shape.

“Is it tied on good?” he asked.

“Perfect,” Rafe replied.

Tiberius coiled the rope carefully in his right hand, making sure that the rope didn’t twist and that there was space between the coils so that it would unwind freely without affecting the flight of the spear.

“Are we ready?” Rafe said impatiently.

“Just a minute,” Tiberius said. “I’ve almost got it.”

He handed the end to one of the soldiers.

“Tie this end to something solid,” he instructed. “Just in case Rafe’s throw doesn’t kill the beast.”

“What are you implying, that I’ll miss?”

“No, of course not,” Tiberius said dramatically.

“I won’t miss,” Rafe promised.

“You better not. We’ll only get one shot at this.”

“Just like we practiced,” Rafe said.

“Not quite, I never pictured you having to stand on the edge of the wall.”

“My guys will hold me, I’ll be fine.”

He hopped up onto the waist-high crenellation and hefted the spear. Two of the soldiers held Rafe by the legs. Tiberius was just starting to lean out over the crenelation when a gray, scaly body darted up over the edge. Both of the soldiers holding Rafe’s legs jumped back in fright. Rafe, who had been holding the spear pointed down, swung the heavy weapon at the Graypee who was climbing over the edge of the wall. The lizard creature was knocked back, it’s long bony claws scrabbling against the stone in an effort not to lose its grip.

Rafe went to strike the beast again, but this time it caught the spear in its massive jaws, the triangular head was little more than a small skull, huge jaw muscles, and a long snout full of pointed teeth. The creature instinctively jerked the spear, losing its battle to hold onto the wall and falling. Tiberius looked up triumphantly at his friend who had so valiantly fought the beast, only to see the look of fear pinching Rafe’s features as he lost his balance and fell.

The rope spun out of Tiberius’ hands as he reach out to catch his friend, but he wasn’t fast enough. He hit the stone edge of the wall hard, bruising his ribs, but he hardly noticed. He watched in horror as Rafe fell, flipping onto his back in midair, before crashing against the rocky soil below.

“No!” shouted Tiberius.

He watched as the dust that had flown upward in a cloud, settled back down. He couldn’t look away. The Graypee landed several feet farther from the wall that Rafe, its mouth dripping blood, but it was able to get to its feet and limp away. The other Graypees had bolted away when Rafe hit the ground near them, but to Tiberius’ horror, they didn’t go far. He heard them growling and hissing.

He turned back to the soldiers who were frozen in terror. He wanted to throw them over the wall. They were supposed to hold onto Rafe, but they had let him fall. Tears flooded his eyes.

“Get help!” he shouted at them.

The small squad of men ran down the wall, toward the barracks. Tiberius looked back down at his friend. He couldn’t tell if Rafe was breathing or not. He refused to even consider the possibility that his friend might be dead. He wouldn’t let the thought enter his consciousness, even though he felt it stalking around the edges of his mind.

The spear lay on the ground not far from Rafe, the rope still connected to it and to the wall where the soldier’s had tied it. If Rafe could just get the rope and loop it under his arms, they could haul him back up to safety. Tiberius was just about to shout for some of the soldiers to come back, knowing he couldn’t pull his friend up the wall without help. But before he did, he noticed the Graypee’s moving slowly back toward Rafe, their tails held out rigid behind them, their bellies low to the ground. He knew they were ready to pounce. Even if Rafe got up immediately, he might not have time to get up the wall before they jumped on him.

His mind flickered to the book of magic. The Second Order dealt with levitation, and for one instant he wished that he knew the spell. But that part of the book was missing, and he knew that skipping ahead was dangerous. He wouldn’t have been ready to lift his friend up the wall with magic even if he knew the spell. Then an idea struck. He didn’t take time to really consider it. He just acted before his nerves got the best of him.

Picking up the rope, he hopped onto the edge of the wall’s crenelation, then slid off.