Gods Of Blood And Fire (Book 1) (68 page)

Chapter 27

R
ufio Rabinus Tullus was a man of duty, but he didn’t like this one. He rode along in silence. All of his friends were gone. He felt like he should be back in Turill with K’xarr and Cromwell. He knew what his fate would have been if he had stayed in the city, but he didn’t care. Leaving anything unfinished ate at him like a sickness.

He thought of Vandarus, the young Bandaran had proved his courage outside the walls of Turill and died like a man, a hero even. He missed his friend, Rufio had seen many men die. Death was something that rode along at every soldier’s back. He had accepted his friend’s fate. He just would have like to have the Bandaran here now. Vandarus always made him feel capable and confident by asking Rufio for his opinion all the time. He had no one to reassure him now. He wasn’t like K’xarr. He couldn’t just decide on a course of action and plunge headlong into it, everyone else be damned. He had to weigh things very carefully and then act. Rufio was a pure soldier and he needed orders to follow.

He felt very alone now. K’xarr had left a great deal of responsibility on his shoulders, and he had no one to share his concerns with. Being accountable for military men was one thing, a bunch of royals was another. He would just have to try and do his best, he owed the Camiran that.

His thoughts were interrupted as the Queen rode up on one side of him and the one-eyed girl came up on the other, the blonde girl’s patch disturbed him a little, it just didn’t look right on Isabella’s sweet face.

“How much farther, Captain?” the Queen asked.

“Seven or eight more days, Majesty, we can use the roads. This trip will be an easy one. No need to worry.”

“Oh, I was not worried at all, Captain. I have every confidence in your abilities.”

The Dragitan looked at the lovely young Queen, motherhood agreed with her; her dark hair almost gleamed in the sun. He didn’t want to get into a conversation with the Queen, sometimes you could get more than you bargained for, but he had to ask. “Majesty, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course, you may, Captain, speak freely.” Rufio cleared his throat. “I thought we would have to take you kicking and screaming from the city and your garden. I thought you would never leave it without a squabble. Havalon will soon have Turill and may put it to the torch, he will loot it at best, yet you left without so much as a word of protest. I just wanted to know why?”

The Queen smiled, her eyes welling up with tears. Rufio felt like an ass now, he should have kept his mouth shut, after a moment she answered. “I’m heartsick thinking about the city my family helped build and the garden my father and I cherished, most of all I think of the people who were counting on me to protect them. I failed them all, Captain. I know that even if somehow I return to the phoenix throne, the truth will always be I didn’t protect my city and its people from the Abberdonian invaders. If I ever have the chance, I will see to it that this never happens again.”

“Do you blame K’xarr, Majesty, after all he was your General?” Rufio asked hesitantly.

The Queen smiled sadly. “No, Captain, I don’t. K’xarr is not responsible, it is not his city, it is my city, the failure falls to me. I’m sure he would argue that point if he were here, but the fault is mine alone. I am Queen. You must understand something, Captain. I haven’t lost Bandara. I never can, I have learned something in the last year. Bandara lives in me and my son, just like it lived in my father and his father before him, and no one can take it away from us. Bandara is my family and we are it, Captain, so it can never truly be lost.” The Queen paused for a moment. “I hope that I have answered your question, Captain.”

The Queen galloped ahead. Rufio could see she wanted to be alone. He would not mind serving the young woman. Now he too saw the strength in the young Queen that K’xarr had spoken of. He was almost glad K’xarr had ordered him to escort the Phoenix Queen to her new throne, she just might be worth the trouble.

“She is very sad, no matter what she says,” Isabella said.

Rufio looked at the girl. “I think she will be fine, Isabella. Don’t underestimate her. Your Queen is more resilient than we give her credit for.”

“I don’t underestimate her. I feel bad for her, she has lost a great deal. Her father, her city, her garden, the man she loved, all she has left is her son and what she carries in her heart.”

Rufio reached out and patted Isabella on the thigh. “It will be enough.”

***

The cook looked over at the children riding along on their ponies. He was amazed at how well they all rode. He held little Sabra in front of him as he trotted along behind them. Sabra seemed to be enjoying the trip, but her older sister could not stop talking.

“Nick, where did Mother go?”

“Well, Tressa, I think she went to find Kian.”

The little girl frowned. “He has been gone too long Nick. I hope mother brings him back soon.” The cook nodded and smiled.

“Nick?”

“Yes, Tressa.”

“How far away is Mama and Kian?”

“I don’t know, Tressa, somewhere north of Turill I think.”

“Do you think they will be back soon, Nick?”

The cook sighed. “I hope so, Tressa. I truly hope so.” The little girl rode in silence for a moment. Nick Nock prayed she would be quite for just a little while.

“Why do you hope so, Nick?”

“So I can retain most of my sanity, Tressa.”

“Nick, do you think the Queen will let me keep my pony?”

“You will have to ask her, little one,” Rufio said as he rode up. “She is just up ahead, why don’t you go and see if she will let you keep it.”

The little girl smiled and kicked her pony, sending it bouncing towards the Queen.

Nick Nock blew out a breath of air. “Thank you, Captain you just saved my life.”

Rufio grinned at the young cook. “My pleasure, I think you have the toughest job of us all. Listen, Nick, I have been meaning to talk with you.”

“About what, Captain?”

“I know that you and Vandarus were friends. Now that he is gone, I just want to assure you that I will see to it you are treated fairly with any share of coin we get and you are still welcome to stay if you wish. I’m just not sure what fate will bring my way, but I will see you have work, if you wish it.”

The cook looked at Rufio confused. “I don’t understand, Captain?”

“What I’m trying to say is: any one that was a friend to Vandarus is a friend to me.”

“I miss him too, Captain.”

Rufio nodded to the cook. His throat was too tight to say anything more.

“Nick, the pretty Queen said I could keep my pony.” Tressa yelled as she came bouncing back.

The two men looked at each other and laughed.

***

It was only two days after the Queen left Turill that Griffyn and Donovan arrived with the rest of the Abberdonian troops.

The next morning King Havalon’s forces began to form ranks and head towards the city. “Now, there’s a man I like, he wastes no time. He just gets up eats breakfast and attacks, doesn’t even let his men rest from their march,” Cromwell said.

K’xarr looked out over the battlements at the enemy troops. “It looks like he’s coming in force. I don’t think he is even holding any men back in reserve.”

Cromwell drew the big two-handed sword from the scabbard on his back. He wore no armor and his long unwashed black hair blew in the early morning breeze. K’xarr thought he looked like one of the barbarian War Gods of old. “No armor, my friend? Things are going to get nasty today, maybe you should at least think about some mail.”

Cromwell laughed. “No armor today, General, when the Great Lord of Battle Fane decides it is my day to die, there is no armor that will protect me.”

K’xarr raised his eyebrows. “Well if you don’t mind, I will keep mine on, and Fane Lord of Battle can kiss my ass. I will decide when I die.”

Cromwell smiled at his friend. “Why must you always insult the Gods, it will only bring their wrath down on us.”

K’xarr grinned. “I don’t fear the Gods’ wrath and you’re no more religious than I am. you only believe in the Gods when it suits you.”

“Well, that’s the best time to be a believer, when you need them, ain’t it?”

They both laughed out loud. The Bandaran soldiers around them looked at them like they were mad.

“What are you all staring at?” Cromwell bellowed. “You should all be happy, we have a lot of work to do today and a fine dinner waiting for us in hell tonight.” He jumped up on the battlements, leaned back, and gave the loudest Toran war cry K’xarr had ever heard him give. “Come on, Havalon, you fat old bastard. I, Cromwell Blood of the Blood Clan, await you. I am going to gut you like a pig, even if I have to kill all your pretty little soldiers to do it.”

The Abberdonians sounded their battle horns and with a great cry charged the wall under the cover of their arrows and catapults. They carried many ladders and had built two new siege towers.

Cromwell jumped down from the battlements. “I guess he heard me.” K’xarr took his friend’s arm in a warrior’s grip, no words needed to be spoken. K’xarr thought he could not have picked a finer man to die beside. He looked at the sky. He too secretly hoped the Gods were watching.

Two guards had dragged Rhys out of the pavilion a short time ago. Kian knew it would not be long before he watched his friend burn. He could hear them getting the pyre ready.

He was alone in the great pavilion for the moment, but he knew he could not get away. Even with his inhuman strength, he could not break the chains Milara had the knights put him in. The best he could do would be to pull down the pavilion and that would only get him another beating.

His keen hearing made him raise his head. It just wasn’t the sound he heard, he sensed something too. He knew not what it was, just a feeling that had come over him.

A blonde woman stepped from the shadows. She was beyond beautiful. Her hair was long, pulled back in a tight ponytail, only a small piece of hair on each side of her face hung free. Her smooth skin was bronzed by the sun. The woman was dressed in a silver breastplate, her legs were armored as well. Her strong arms were bare and a silver sword hung at her side. To Kian, she looked like she would be more at home in the light of a clear day than skulking in the shadows.

“Why do you sit there? Your friend is about to be put to death?” the woman asked harshly.

Kian looked at her, but said nothing. Was she blind, he thought? Could she not see the chains?

“Why don’t you do something or has the Mistress’s evil corrupted you so much that you would let a friend die?”

Kian’s face was growing red with anger. “I’m not corrupt or evil, if I could help Rhys, I would.”

She walked closer to him, her beauty was undeniable and so was her power. He could feel it. “Are you not the man who has the terrible might of the Forever Sea coursing through his veins? Summon Malice forever, warrior, free your friend.”

Kian had no idea what she was talking about. “I can’t summon anything lady, and I have never heard of the Forever Sea.”

She looked at him strangely, her eyes seemed to glow or perhaps it was a trick of the torch light, Kian knew not which.

“Is that why my blood is black now?” he asked.

“You don’t know what your brother has done to you, do you? He has put the powers of the Waters of Oblivion into your blood, a power that is poison to all others, man and God alike. It has turned your blood black, that is true, but not in the same way as your friends K’xarr and Cromwell. Your powers should be great, swordsman, summon your blade.”

Kian wondered how she knew about K’xarr and Cromwell. At least now he knew it was Tavantis who had caused the change in his blood. “Why don’t you just unchain me? I will do what I can for Rhys.”

She walked over and looked at his wounds. The woman touched him and the pain faded enough to give him some relief. “I can’t interfere any more than that. You belong to the Mistress, you are her Nightblade, and I will not directly help you. I have done too much already.”

“Why?” he almost pleaded.

“She is evil and I will never aid evil, even if to help an innocent like you.” Now summon your blade before the guards return, in a few moments they will put a torch to the healer’s pyre, that I do care about.”

Kian closed his eyes and thought of Malice, the strange metal blade, the dark hilt, he could feel it, feel what was inside it, it wanted blood, it wanted death, it had a hunger that could never be sated. The sword was evil, he could sense that now. He opened his eyes and the blade lay on the ground before him. He reached out his muscles straining at the chains and scooped the sword up. The Half Elf cut through his chains like they were rope. On shaking legs he stood, the dark blade clutched in his hands.

“You learned to summon the blade very easy, Kian Cardan, I am impressed. The rest I will leave to you.” The woman turned.

“Wait,” Kian whispered. “The weapon is pure evil. I can feel it now.”

“As is the woman you serve. She created the sword from hate, the hate she had for her husband, the sword was meant for him, but he is no fool.” The way she looked at Malice, Kian could tell she had seen it before. “He knew she meant to try and control him with it,” she whispered almost to herself. The woman refocused her attention on Kian. “The Mistress is evil, and if you serve her one day you to will fall to the darkness. Rid yourself of her if you can.” She walked back towards the shadows of the pavilion.