Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (117 page)

Read Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Online

Authors: Mark E. Cooper

Tags: #Sword & Sorcery, #Magic & Wizards, #Epic, #Historical, #Fantasy, #Series, #Sorceress, #sorcerer, #wizard

BOOK: Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3
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Mathius sat slumped forward. “She’s gone, Lucius. I never really believed she could lose. Stupid isn’t it? She nearly died that first time in Athione, but somehow that didn’t seem to matter…” he broke off and sobbed into his fist trying to stifle his cries.

The stench of burned pork was terrible. Lucius tried to make sense of what he saw. Men, Red Guard if he wasn’t mistaken, had died instantly while still in formation it looked like. The bodies were mostly ash, but a piece of red uniform here and there lent him enough to identify them. The halberd blades were partially melted, and the shafts were completely gone. Demophon had taken no chances it seemed.

Fireballs could melt rock if the mage was strong enough, but Demophon wasn’t that strong. More than one mage linked would be needed. Four would do it, which was worth knowing. A flash of white robe made him think of Lorcan, but no, it must have been Gideon from the size of the corpse and what was left of a rope belt. That made sense. Julia had probably intended to visit the Holy Father.

“I know them,” Mathius said nodding at the two guardsmen. “Halbert and Moriz. Hit in the chest first… before Julia I think.”

Lucius nodded. “Yes, I think so. Julia… what’s left… we need to do something for her…” he trailed off.

She was beyond help. The fireball had hit her full in the face. Her head… Lucius gulped hastily as his gorge rose. Her head was mostly gone. He could see the corpse was she from her small size and her dress. Lucius leaned forward and picked up a melted brooch—from her cloak he thought it must be.

He squeezed the brooch and blood dripped from clenched fist onto the ash-covered street. “Demophon dies this night.”

“Oh yessss,” Mathius whispered almost reverently.

* * *

The news raced through the palace and found Keverin in council with the lords of the realm. The doors burst open to admit Brian, white faced and in shock. He stormed by the startled guards at the door. Both men would be all right in a few days, but they really should have known better than to try to stop an Athione captain in pursuit of his duty. The instant they laid hands on him, Brian erupted in fury, and both men were left in his wake unconscious.

“I protest this outrage. Guards, have that man arrested!” Lord Karel shouted.

Karel was a middling powerful lord, one of Ascol’s lackeys, but Brian didn’t know or care about that. He drew his sword to warn the other guards off then stood before Keverin and saluted.

“Report Brian!”

“Lord… we have failed you. Julia… our lady is… was murdered in the streets by sorcerers,” Brian said trembling in his need to rend and kill something.

“Impossible, she wouldn’t do this to me, no she wouldn’t. I would know it the instant—” Keverin mumbled.

The lords were silent for a moment before strident laughter burst forth from Ascol. It was taken up uncertainly by his lackeys. That was the signal for absolute bedlam. Swords were drawn on both sides of the hall. Ascol had more men, but Gylaren’s faction had the better fighters. Jihan jumped over the railing and onto the floor from the stands, followed by Purcell, his great sword in hand ready for mayhem, but Jihan had no such intention.

“I call for a recess!” Jihan shouted loud enough for his voice to echo, and stunned silence fell.

Halden jumped up. “Seconded!”

Purcell rumbled to life preventing objection by waving his sword. “It’s unanimous!”

Keverin heard the last part and stood to stride out the door. Now he was pushing through a crowd of panicking women who had heard a distorted version of events. They were frightened of an imminent invasion if he had their fears correct.

“—sorcerers are going to kill us all—”

“I don’t want to die!”

“Where are the guardsmen?”

“—Julia’s dead, burnt to nothing they say—”

“—knew she wasn’t special like they said. No such thing as a lady mage. It was all lies I tell you—probably a peasant as well!”

Keverin stumbled to a stop and looked for the one who had said that. “All of you get out of my sight!” he roared at the top of his voice.

The crowd stopped pushing at the guardsmen and backed away in stunned silence. Keverin glared when no one moved to leave. He spun on his heel and strode out into the courtyard. Cavell was waiting for him when he emerged from the palace. He mounted and was out the gate before his guard could move. Brian overtook him easily. Keverin didn’t want to push Cavell on such unsure footing. He followed as more and more of his guardsmen filed by until he was sandwiched between a strong force.

“Kev…
Kev!


What!
” Keverin snarled at Jihan who had just then caught up.

Jihan rode by Keverin’s side with his face full of sympathy. Next to Jihan, Purcell and Gylaren rode grim faced. Everywhere Keverin looked he saw grim certainty of Julia’s death, but that didn’t matter. He knew she wouldn’t do that to him, so it was all right.

“I’m sorry Kev, Julia was…” Jihan didn’t continue, he couldn’t. He had no words to express his anger and sadness for his friend.

Keverin blinked at Jihan, and uncertainty threatened to take him, but he forced it down with images of Julia surviving much worse than a Devarr street. He looked only ahead from then on. Images of Julia on the gate tower flashed before his eyes. Yes, she survived a tower falling on her. If she could do that she could by the God survive a street in Devarr! Then there was Malcor’s training room—that was a good one! Three sorcerers couldn’t hurt her then. Julia had killed them all and made a hole in the fortress a hundred yards long in her anger. Devarr was still here, so she must be all right you see? Then there was the big one. She destroyed only the God knew how many sorcerers when she destroyed the Third Legion in Camorin. If she could do that, why, Demophon and his ilk had no chance at all!

It was the smell that first brought him up short. The roaring in his ears threatened to get worse. A mixture of Athione and Malcor guardsmen had sectioned off the street ahead. Cavell refused to move on, and Keverin impatiently jumped down dropping the reins to hobble her. Cavell snorted and banged a hoof down in annoyance, but Keverin simply walked away. The guardsmen moved to open a corridor in their silent ranks, and he walked through along with Jihan, Purcell, and Gylaren. The scene before him was worse than reported. He recognised Halbert and Moriz instantly, and his hold on sanity slipped a little more. The white robe of a priest caught his eye next. No one had mentioned Gideon to him, but that was he. He stumbled to a stop. If Halbert, Moriz, and Gideon were here, then… No, she wouldn’t do that to him. He moved forward to see. His world narrowed to the dress and the child sized form that wore it.

It was Julia.

No, she wouldn’t do that to him. He moved closer and knelt beside her. He groaned in grief and pain. Her beautiful face… her head… He was breathing deeply now, almost panting, but still holding on. This
was
his Julia. No she—the roaring stopped, and he snapped alert for the first time since hearing the news.

“It’s not her,” he breathed with relief so great he almost collapsed to the cobbles.

The others looked at him then at the remains of Julia.

“I’m sorry Kev, but that
is
Julia,” Purcell said and Gylaren nodded.

Jihan looked closer but reluctantly nodded. “It
is
Julia.”

The guardsmen heard, and a rumble of voices spoke Julia’s name and revenge in the same few instants.

He smiled. “It’s not. She’s the same size, and the dress is hers I grant you, but that is not Julia!”

Jihan and the others nodded at each other and moved to take his arms.

“What are you doing you fools? That’s not Julia I tell you!” he yelled in rage.

“It’s all right, Kev We’ll take care of her,” Jihan said kindly lifting him to his feet with a grip like steel.

“Guards! Have them release me,” he roared out of patience with these fools.

Jihan turned to find hundreds of Athione guardsmen with swords bared. Purcell and Gylaren backed off slowly, but Jihan remained where he was, steadfastly refusing to yield.

“Your lord is ill—the shock of losing Julia. Let us pass!” Jihan ordered loudly.

The guardsmen shifted and their murmurs sounded like a growl, but they failed to give way. Jihan turned to his own men and nodded. With a whisking sound Malcor swords faced down Athione.

Brian as senior captain present for Athione gave the order, “Change front!”

The Athione men were alert for the order, and moved ready to attack.

“Hold Brian!” Keverin said. “Jihan,
believe
me. That’s not Julia and I can prove it.”

Jihan hesitated. “Show me.”

“Brian to me, everyone else stand down!” he ordered.

The guardsmen sheathed their blades in relief. They would have fought and died at their lord’s orders, but dying to kill men who were friends a moment earlier was a waste.

The lords spoke in a huddle.

“Do you remember when Julia first arrived, Brian?” Keverin said intently willing his captain to say he did.

“Of course!”

“Good Brian,” he said in relief. “You remember her clothes do you not, she called it a leotard did she not?”

Brian blushed and nodded.

“Udall saw her and he’s dead now. So are all the others except you and Burke. Burke is in the palace somewhere so it’s up to you. I want you to examine this woman,
closely examine
, and tell me if this is my Julia. I’m counting on you Brian.”

“Yes my lord, but if it is…”

Keverin grimaced and raised his voice, “Guards! Make a wall around us face out!”

The guardsmen were puzzled but did as they were bid. Closely packed, none could see inside and the torches they held flooded the enclosed space with light. Brian set about his grizzly task. At first, he was reluctant, but the task accelerated when he decided to get it over and done. The dress was discarded and he looked.

“It’s
not
her,” Brian breathed in shock. “It really isn’t. I’m sorry my lord. I thought you crazed, but this poor girl is
not
Lady Julia.”

Keverin closed his eyes and nodded. He knew it!

“Come on man! How can you tell? Her head… it’s not there by the God!” Gylaren said in a sick voice.

Brian grimaced. “I had noticed that. Julia is strong, m’lord, not just strong in magic, but strong in body. She told me when we first met that she competed in tournaments against men and women on her world. If you had seen her in her
leotard
, you would understand. She has very muscular arms and legs. Her arms are like a guardsman’s arms—almost as if she wielded a sword every day! This girl has none!
This is not Julia!
” he was almost shouting at the end and the word rushed through the men.

The mood lightened for a moment, but then it darkened again as the guardsmen looked at each other in puzzlement. If Julia was alive, where by the God was she?

* * *

“Are you ready?” Lucius said.

“Ready,” Mathius said and kicked the door in.

Lord Ascol jumped up and shouted in anger, but Mathius and Lucius ignored him as the non-entity he was. Their attention was fixed firmly upon the six men at the back of the room. Before the sorcerers could attack, Mathius took the link from Lucius, given freely, and focused his hate into
heat.

A column of flame roared toward the sorcerers. Mathius had decided not to bother with fireballs or the like before he came here. Fireballs could be deflected away, or worse, back to him. The lance of flame was so hot, the windows exploded outward. Neither Lucius nor he took any notice as Ascol bolted out the door. Adrik stood against the wall grinning for a moment before following his father out. The flames ignited the furniture. Priceless tables and chairs made in the first years after Deva’s founding succumbed and were turned to ash, paintings shrivelled, and tapestries fell from their mountings onto burning rugs. He felt the first shield fail closely followed by two others, but there were no screams. The three sorcerers died before they knew it was time to scream.

The explosion of ancient brick as it succumbed to the heat
was
a surprise, but again He kept the heat focused. Heat upon heat upon
heat
, he sent roaring forward. The pain was incredible, but he forced himself to ignore the hurt for Julia. As he aged, Mathius thought of all the years she wouldn’t have—he drew more, he drew
hard
. Lucius groaned as the strain built even higher, but he did nothing to rein his friend in. Demophon could not be allowed to retaliate. His pain was nothing in comparison to what Mathius must be feeling, and he knew it. Mathius was the weaker mage, but he had insisted that he be the one to enact their revenge. No amount of arguing would gainsay him, and truth to tell, Lucius hadn’t tried that hard. Julia had been like a sister to him. Vengeance was his right to claim.

Another shield collapsed, and Mathius screamed. The sorcerers were yelling and cursing as they tried to retaliate, but they couldn’t—not without sacrificing the strength of their shields. They dared not. Another shield collapsed and the sorcerer was turned to a pillar of fire waving his arms and shrieking in agony. He fell face down and was silent. The room was completely aflame and it threatened to drive them back, but they refused to yield even as their own robes began to smolder. Finally, it happened. The last sorcerer—increasingly losing ground to the flames—attempted to jump through the shattered wall to escape his fate.

Craaaack! Craaaack! Craaaack!

Three huge bolts of lightning hit the sorcerer in quick succession. It was a fitting end to Julia’s murderers, Mathius thought as he reined in his lightning.

Lucius, took control and damped the fires. Suddenly the room cooled, and frost appeared over every surface, plaster cracked and exploded at the sudden change of temperature and more of the ceiling fell in. He had forgotten that he was linked with Mathius and had more magic at his command than he was used to. They released their magic at the same instant of course, being linked they had no choice. Collapsing to sit against the walls in tandem though seemed a bit much to Mathius, and he chuckled.

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