Soul of Skulls (Book 6) (37 page)

"Damn," said Hugh. "We'll have to besiege the Inner City."

"Perhaps not," said Mazael. "Lord Bryce sent men to seize one of the Inner Wall’s gates. If they've held it, we can break into the Inner City at our leisure. And our horsemen are loose in the Outer City, running down the Aegonar." He shook his head. "Not many Aegonar will survive to reach the Inner City." 

"Good," said Hugh. "But why did the Aegonar bring so few men to the city? And why even risk holding it?" He looked at Agantyr's body. "It ended in ruin for the High King."

"I don't know," said Mazael, gazing at the towers of the Prince's Keep. "But we shall find out once we drive Malaric and the remaining Aegonar from the Keep."

Hugh frowned. "Did you see Malaric?"

"I did." Molly Cravenlock picked her way across the slain, Riothamus at her side. "He tried to kill you. I fought him, he saw Father, and then fled." Her mocking smile flashed across her face. "He must have realized my father has a grievance with him." 

"As do I," said Hugh. "He poisoned your wife, my lord, but he slew my family. Justice will be done, this day." 

"Yes," said Mazael. "I suggest, my lord Prince, that you command Montigard and the footmen to march for the Inner Wall. Then we shall enter the Keep, find Malaric...and put an end to this."

"We shall," said Hugh. He found one of the standardbearers and gave the commands.

###

Mazael slipped the compass from its case.

The needle pointed right at the Prince's Keep, its glow brighter than it had ever been. It vibrated in his hand, as if it wanted to tear free from his fingers and fly to Skalatan. 

Just as Mazael himself wanted to do. 

He put the compass away and took a deep breath, calming himself.

At long last, the key to Romaria's life was within his grasp. 

Chapter 33 - Last Stand

Malaric stepped out of the shadows and reappeared in the great hall of the Prince's Keep.

Chaos reigned in the room. Several hundred Aegonar warriors and ulfhednar filled the hall, shouting and arguing with each other. Many bore wounds, and all looked exhausted and bloody. 

"Idiots!" shouted Malaric. "What are you doing? Get to the Inner Wall! None of the gates are manned, and the foe will come through unchallenged."

One of the ulfhednar spat upon the floor. "Do it yourself, weakling Prince."

Malaric started to draw his sword.

"Do not bother," hissed a dry voice. "They will not heed you."

Malaric turned and saw Skalatan standing next to a pillar.

"You tell them to do it," said Malaric. "Else we shall lose the city.”

"Barellion is already lost," said Skalatan. The damned archpriest sounded utterly indifferent. "The city has fallen to your brother. Disposing of you and claiming the Keep is merely a formality." 

"Idiot!" said Malaric, stalking towards Skalatan. "And what of your losses? Four thousand Aegonar manned the walls. How many of them perished?"

"An acceptable sacrifice," said Skalatan. 

"To achieve what?" said Malaric. "You have not conquered Barellion."

"I told you," said Skalatan. "Knightcastle, not Barellion, is my goal."

"You also lost Agantyr," said Malaric. "Will you lead an army without him?"

"Agantyr served his purpose," said Skalatan. "I have no further need of him. And you, Malaric, have served your purpose. In another few moments, after I make some necessary preparations, I will have no further need of you."

"Is that a threat?" said Malaric, drawing his sword. 

Skalatan did not answer. Green light flared up and down the robed form of his carrier, his yellow eyes flashing, and he became a wraith of green light and swirling smoke. Malaric swung his sword, but it passed through the archpriest's immaterial form without harm.

Skalatan turned, walked through the wall, and vanished from sight. 

Malaric snarled a curse and jammed his sword back into its scabbard. 

Skalatan had left him to die. 

And, looking over the wounded Aegonar, Malaric saw the archpriest's point. Perhaps he should flee. He could take Corvad's skull, leave Barellion, and seek power and wealth elsewhere.

But that would mean abandoning Barellion to Hugh.

Malaric's hands curled into fists. 

That would mean letting his father win. 

"No," whispered Malaric. 

Barellion was his, and he would not yield it. 

He turned, his hand brushing the hilt of the caethweisyr, and suddenly Malaric knew how he could prevail. He could not face Mazael, Molly, and the Guardian in a fight.

But he doubted the three of them could overcome the Lady of Blades. 

He strode into the shadows and reappeared in the suite of Lord Alberon and his daughter. Both Alberon and Adelaide stood on the balcony, staring down at the Aegonar in the courtyard.

"Can you see what is happening?" said Alberon. 

"I'm not sure, Father," said Adelaide, her brown hair rippling in the wind. "I think...I think they've broken into the Inner City." He voice rose in excitement. "The Chalsain banner! Father, I see the Chalsain banner! Hugh has come! I knew he would. He will show that murderous villain Malaric..."

"He will show me nothing," said Malaric.

Both father and daughter whirled to face him. 

"Instead," said Malaric, "I am going to show Hugh your death. Unless he relents."

Adelaide lifted her chin. "Hugh will not leave Greycoast in the hands of a tyrant like..."

"Do shut up, my lady," said Malaric.

He seized her shoulder and pulled her into the shadows, ignoring Lord Alberon's shout of protest. 

They reappeared in the great hall, and Malaric tied Adelaide to the Prince's chair atop the dais. If Hugh wanted the throne so badly, let it be stained with Adelaide's blood when he took it. 

And then the Lady of Blades would kill him alongside Mazael and all of Malaric's foes.

###

The men assembled in the square below the barbican of the Prince's Keep. 

Mazael looked at the compass once more. The needle continued to point at the Keep, its glow as bright as a candle flame. 

"The scouts have completed their circuit of the castle, my lords," said Sir Edgar, rejoining the lords below the Chalsain banner. "There are no Aegonar upon the walls. Some in the courtyard, I think, and more in the keep."

"But none on the walls?" said Lord Bryce.

"No, my lord," said Edgar. "The Aegonar are whipped. They fled into the Keep because there's nowhere left to go."

"Perhaps Malaric has fled," said Bryce, "and abandoned the Aegonar to their fate."

"I doubt it, my lord," said Hugh. "Malaric's pride will not permit him to flee."

"Besides," said Molly, "he has some clever trick up his sleeve, I'm sure of it."

"Riothamus," said Mazael.

The Guardian stared at the Keep, frowning, his blue eyes distant. Mazael wondered if the Sight had come upon him. 

"Riothamus?" said Mazael.

Riothamus shook himself. "My lord?" 

"Can you open the portcullis?" said Mazael. 

"Yes," said Riothamus. "Unless Skalatan tries to counter me. But it seems he has forsaken the Aegonar. He could have used his spells to rain destruction upon us in the streets, but he did not."

Riothamus lifted his staff, took a deep breath, and muttered under his breath. Golden light flared and pulsed along the staff, and Riothamus gestured. The portcullis sealing the barbican shivered, and brown stains spread across the metal bars. In a few moments, it looked as if centuries of rust covered the steel.

The portcullis shattered into thousands of orange-red splinters. 

"Advance," said Hugh, his voice calm. "Today we liberate Barellion."

###

Riothamus watched the men move towards the Keep.

"My lord Mazael," said Riothamus. "Molly. Listen to me."

Both Mazael and Molly paused.

"What is it?" said Molly.

"You will have to fight Malaric without my aid," said Riothamus.

"Why?" said Mazael. "Have you exhausted your powers?"

"No," said Riothamus. "I have to find Corvad's skull. It's somewhere in the Keep. If I don't find the skull...I do not think you can defeat him."

"You said yourself," said Molly, "that you don't think he can be killed so long as he controls the skull." 

"If you try to take the skull," said Mazael, "surely he will come after you." 

"Not," said Riothamus, "if you distract him. If I can find the skull and dispel his enchantments upon it, you can kill him. "

Mazael nodded. "Go. You will do what you must, as will we. And then," his gray eyes hardened, "and then we shall find Skalatan."

###

Hugh strode with his knights and armsmen into the courtyard, and the Aegonar boiled out of the central keep and charged at them. 

"Shield wall!" shouted Montigard, and the men hastened to obey.

A moment later the Aegonar crashed into the formation, screaming and attacking. Hugh slew one, and then another. A dozen men died around him, but twice as many Aegonar perished as the shield wall held. Mazael fought like a whirlwind, his sword cutting a bloody swath through the Aegonar, and Molly danced through the melee, disappearing and reappearing in swirls of darkness. 

And then the last Aegonar fell, and the way was clear to the central keep.

Hugh took a deep breath. Malaric awaited him in there. "Come," he said, and led the men to the doors of the keep. 

Chapter 34 - A Quarrel of Princes

Lion trembled in Mazael's hand. Glimmers of blue light shone in the blade, and tiny azure flames danced along the edges. 

"Your sword," said Hugh with surprise. "It appears to be glowing."

"It does that," said Mazael, "when confronting creatures and wielders of dark magic."

Hugh scowled. "Malaric would qualify as both."

Two of the armsmen pulled open the massive doors to the central keep. Hugh strode forward, Mazael and Molly following at his side. Mazael wished Hugh had stayed in the courtyard with the men. Malaric would try to kill him, and Molly and Mazael could defend themselves far more effectively than Hugh could. 

Yet Hugh was the Prince, and he would have to put himself at risk again and again. If Adelaide was indeed within the Keep, no force on earth could keep Hugh from entering.

Just as nothing could have kept Mazael from pursuing Skalatan to the ends of the earth.

They entered the great hall, and a sudden gust of wind blew past them. The massive doors swung shut with terrific force, the bang echoing through the long stone hall. Lion's blade burst into snarling azure flame, and Mazael tapped the sword against the wooden doors.

There was a pale flicker of green light. Mazael heard the armsmen outside pounding on the doors, but he knew they would not get through. 

"Warded," said Mazael. "It seems Malaric wants us all to himself."

"You are correct," said a familiar mocking voice.

Mazael turned from the doors. 

The great hall of the Prince's Keep was larger than that of Castle Cravenlock, the thick pillars supporting a lofty, vaulted ceiling. Balconies encircled the hall, and wide windows allowed sunlight to illuminate the chamber. A young woman with brown hair sat upon the Prince's throne, her wrists tied to its arms. 

"Adelaide," said Hugh, taking a step forward.

Mazael grabbed his shoulder. "Don't."

"Wise of you," said Malaric's voice.

A column of darkness swirled to Adelaide's right, and Malaric himself appeared.

He wore chain mail and a black leather jerkin, his face tired and dirty, his blond hair hanging in greasy strings. His sword and that peculiar feather-shaped dagger rested at his belt. He looked tired and desperate, but there was a cruel light in his green eyes. 

Molly was right. Malaric had one more trick to play. 

"Malaric," said Hugh. "It's over."

"You're right," said Malaric, drawing his sword. "It is."

He leveled the blade at Adelaide's throat.

"Call off your army," said Malaric, "and order them to move outside the city. Surrender yourself to me, and renounce the title of Prince. Do it now, right now, or I'll cut her throat." He grinned. "You've come all that way to save her, little brother. Do you want to watch her die?" 

"Hugh," said Adelaide, voice firm, "don't listen to him. I do not matter, not weighed against the lives of everyone Malaric will kill if he escapes. I..."

"Shut up," said Malaric. "Do..."

"One chance, Malaric," said Mazael, pointing Lion's blazing blade. "Let her go and give me Skalatan, and I will let you live. Otherwise I will kill you."

Malaric laughed. "Skalatan abandoned me, fool. Hunt him to the ends of the earth or not. It is no concern of mine. Hugh, make your choice. Surrender to me, or..."

Molly laughed, her voice full of derision.

Hugh scowled. "Do you find this funny?"

"Actually, yes," said Molly, still laughing. "You're pathetic, Malaric."

Malaric's lips thinned. 

"You tried to kill Mazael, and you made a botch of that," said Molly. "The best you could do is poison his wife. You tried to wipe out your family so you could become Prince," she gestured at Hugh, "and you couldn't even do that. You lost your army to the Aegonar, and all your vassals abandoned you. Then you tried to submit to the Aegonar, and you still failed. You lost the city, the High King is dead, and the Prince's Keep is overrun. A week ago you were the Prince of Barellion, and now all you've got is a sword, a hostage, and a chair." She laughed again. "I bet even the Skulls abandoned you. Old Souther would never back an idiot..."

"Be silent!" roared Malaric. He stalked forward, pointing his sword at Molly. "I will tear the tongue from..."

Molly disappeared in a swirl of darkness.

She reappeared behind Malaric, between him and the throne. Malaric spun, realizing the danger, and Molly attacked as he drew his sword and dagger. Steel rang on steel as the two former Skulls fought. 

Hugh charged at Malaric, Mazael following a half-step behind. 

###

Riothamus pushed open the door and stepped onto the narrow stone bridge. 

He stood near the top of the castle's massive central keep, the wind tugging at his clothes. The narrow stone walkway connected to a slender tower. A stairwell wound its way around the tower, leading to a reinforced wooden door. 

Molly had told him the slender tower was the Study Tower, where the Princes of Barellion kept their private retreat.

And now the tower radiated magical force. Riothamus sensed the presence of powerful, intricate wards shielding the tower. 

And when he reached for the Sight, he glimpsed a burning skull.

Corvad's skull. 

If he used the Sight for a moment longer, he saw bladed wings shielding the skull.

Both Corvad's skull and the Lady of Blades awaited him in the Prince's study.

Riothamus started for the stairs, magical senses searching for any traps.

###

Malaric stepped into the shadows, reappearing between Mazael and Hugh. 

He drove his sword and the caethweisyr at Hugh’s face, intending to rip his brother’s throat open. But Hugh was fast enough to get his sword up, and Malaric’s blades clanged away from the parry. Mazael rushed at him, his sword a blur of azure flame. Malaric ducked under the first blow and struck back, tearing a gash in Mazael’s forearm. The wound did not slow Mazael in the slightest, and Malaric jerked to the side, but Lion’s burning edge nicked his shoulder.

Malaric hissed in pain. Gods, but that burning sword hurt! He felt the blue flame attacking him, seeking out the Demonsouled power he had stolen. 

He saw a flicker of darkness from the corner of his eye, and threw himself into the shadows just as Molly appeared behind him. Malaric reappeared on the balcony overlooking the great hall, his heart racing. Trying to fight both Molly and Mazael at the same time was too much of a risk. And when the Guardian broke the ward upon the doors and intervened in the fight…

It was time to summon assistance. 

He held out the caethweisyr and cast a spell.

"Lady of Blades!" he shouted. "I summon you. By my power, by my will, by the binding of this dagger, I summon you! Come forth!"

A pool of gray mist swirled on the floor of the hall.

###

Molly reached for her dark fire, intending to follow Malaric to the balcony, and the spirit creature appeared in the mist.

The creature manifested in the form of a human woman of unearthly beauty, her long white hair bound beneath a diadem of daggers and steel wire. She wore a shirt of gleaming steel scales that hung to her thighs, and her arms and legs were bare. Her eyes blazed with harsh white light.

And her wings, fashioned from sword blades instead of feathers, spread behind her like a steel shadow. 

“Malaric,” said the spirit, her echoing voice full of loathing. “What tedious chore do you have for me now?”

“Kill them!” shouted Malaric, pointing with his dagger. “By my power I command you, Lady of Blades, to kill them all!”

Molly started forward, hoping to stride into the shadows and gut Malaric where he stood. 

But the Lady of Blades was faster.

The spirit whirled with inhuman speed, sword blades erupting like razor-edged rain from her wings. Molly threw herself sideways, falling into the shadows and reappearing atop the dais. She saw the volley of blades cut through the stone of the floor and walls like soft cheese.

Not even Demonsouled healing could put Molly back together if she were scattered in a hundred pieces across the floor. 

The Lady surged like a thunderbolt towards Mazael and Hugh. Hugh threw himself across the floor to avoid her bladed wings, his armor clattering. Mazael met her attack, Lion's hilt in both hands. He ducked beneath the sweep of her right wing and thrust, Lion drawing a line down her right arm. White light blazed in the wound, rather than blood, and the Lady hissed in fury. 

Two swords appeared in her hands and she attacked Mazael. Mazael backed away, Lion a fan of blue flame in his hands as he tried to dodge her furious attacks. 

Molly caught her balance and prepared to join him.

Then darkness swirled next to her and Malaric appeared, his sword plunging for her throat. Molly beat aside the attack and struck back with her dagger, landing one, two, three hits on Malaric’s arms. But the wounds did not slow him, and he thrust his dagger at her. Molly twisted around the stab, and Malaric’s sword pommel slapped across her face. 

His Demonsouled strength lent the blow power, and she tumbled down the steps of the dais. The impact knocked the air from her lungs, and Molly looked up to see Malaric race down the stairs, both his blades aimed for her heart. 

She fell into the shadows and reappeared atop the balcony, and heard Malaric’s blades clang against the floor. She caught the stone railing and pulled herself back up, her back and face bruised and aching, and Malaric appeared a dozen paces away. 

“Not so smug now, are you?” said Malaric, grinning. “Anything clever to say?”

“Yes,” said Molly. “That beard looks like you glued goat hair to your chin.” 

“I would tell you,” said Malaric, “to shut up, but I’m going to enjoy shutting you up myself.” 

He vanished into the darkness and reappeared at her side, blades angled to attack. Molly twisted, drawing on all her Demonsouled speed and power to stay ahead of him. Yet he had stolen Corvad’s power…and Corvad had been stronger than she was. 

Malaric’s sword and dagger pierced her leather armor to open wounds on her hip and ribs. 

###

Mazael fought with every ounce of fury and skill he could muster, Lion meeting the Lady’s swords again and again. He did not know whether the Lady of Blades was a spirit of dark magic or not – Riothamus had said such spirits were indifferent to mortals, rather than hostile to them. Yet Lion’s fire hurt her nonetheless, her wounds glowing with harsh white light. Perhaps he could do enough damage to send her back to the spirit realm. 

Or perhaps she would simply carve him into little pieces. 

“Ah!” said the Lady, her swords ringing. “I see the blood fire within you. Even for a tainted child, you fight well. Certainly better than that craven Malaric.”

“That,” said Mazael, panting, “is hardly a compliment.” 

The Lady’s wild laughter rang inside his head. “Truly! A pity you must perish.”

From the corner of his eye Mazael saw Hugh running for the dais. Perhaps he could free Adelaide and get away, or bring the help of Riothamus and the lords’ court wizards.

Because without aid, they were going to die. Mazael could not overcome the Lady on his own, and he did not think Molly could defeat Malaric without aid. 

“I am not,” said Mazael, hoping to win more time, “dead yet.”

“Easily rectified,” said the Lady. “How do you mortals say it? Separating you from your life shall be as easy as freeing corn from its husk.”

She whirled, her wings flying around her like a whip of blades, and Mazael jerked back, but not fast enough. His armor protected his chest and belly, but the edges of her blades raked across his forehead and jaw and arms and legs, opening a dozen deep gashes. 

Mazael fell hard upon his back, and the Lady sprang into the air, preparing to bury her blades in his chest. 

###

Sweat dripped down Riothamus’s face as he cast spell after spell, disarming the wards upon the stairs leading to the Study Tower’s door. Malaric had done his work well, layering a maze of intricate spells upon the stone steps, empowering them with his stolen Demonsouled strength. Had Riothamus simply stepped upon the stairs, the wards would have burned him to ashes. 

Yet the Sight allowed him to sense the presence of the wards. The Guardian’s staff was stronger than Malaric’s Demonsouled magic. And the Guardians of old had faced dark wizards who made Malaric seem like the merest child, and their memories resided in the staff. 

Riothamus unraveled the spells step by step, moving closer to the door. His mind screamed for him to go faster. Mazael and Molly faced Malaric, and he knew how much Malaric hated Molly. The thought of finding Molly with Malaric’s sword through her heart was more than he could bear. 

So he worked faster, and at last stood before the door to the Prince’s study. 

“There,” breathed Riothamus, and turned his Sight upon the door.

And as he did, a sigil of blood-colored flame blazed to life upon the thick planks. 

The ward had been so sensitive that even his Sight had activated it.

“Damnation,” said Riothamus, and an image of bladed wings flashed before this Sight.

The Lady of Blades was coming for him. 

Riothamus turned, both hands around his staff.

###

Hugh slashed away the last of the ropes, and Adelaide stood. 

“Hugh,” breathed Adelaide, throwing her arms around him. “Gods, gods, I…”

“Listen to me,” said Hugh. The sounds of battle rang through the hall as Molly struggled against Malaric and Mazael fought the great winged spirit. They needed Hugh’s aid, though what he could do against such powerful foes, he knew not. “Get out of the keep. Lord Bryce and the others are in the courtyard. Malaric’s warded the doors to the great hall, but the servants’ doors should still be open. Have them send every man they can. Go!”

She nodded, the familiar steel glinting in her eyes. “I love you.”

She ran across the dais to the door behind the Prince's chair. Hugh turned to join the battle and saw Mazael fall in a heap to the floor, blood splashing across his armor, the Lady of Blades springing over him to deliver the killing blow…