Soul of Skulls (Book 6) (40 page)

Riothamus scowled and waved a hand, muttering a spell. “It’s…real. He left behind enough blood to cure Romaria. But no more than that.”

“Just enough blood,” said Mazael, “to make sure I do not follow him. Or have you use the blood against him in a spell.”

Morebeth was right. Skalatan was dangerously clever. And Mazael knew his fight with the archpriest was not over. 

But for now, he did not care. He had the means to cure Romaria, and that was more important than anything else. 

“Come,” he said. “Let’s find Hugh. The poor fool has a city to rebuild.”

Mazael paused for a moment, and then swung Lion through the wooden pole.

The banner of the Aegonar fell.

Chapter 36 – Coronation

“Marry me,” said Hugh. 

“But we cannot wed!” said Adelaide. 

Hugh stood alone with her in the great hall, still wearing his bloodstained armor. He had sent Lord Bryce and the other lords and knights to secure the city and hunt down the remaining Aegonar. Sir Edgar had ridden north with his men to scout the Aegonar host. With Agantyr dead, Hugh had no idea what the Aegonar would do next. Would the Aegonar earls fight each other for the High King’s diadem? Would they fall back behind the River of Lords and fortify their conquests?

Or would they choose a new High King and continue towards Barellion?

Hugh didn’t know, and he suspected he would find out sooner than he liked.

But right now Adelaide held his attention.

“Why not?” he said at last. 

“Because you are the Prince,” said Adelaide, “and I am the bastard daughter of a minor lord who lost his lands to the Aegonar.” She looked away. “I would not have men say I seduced the Prince to relieve my poverty.” 

Hugh smiled. “You seduced the Prince's youngest son…who was actively trying to seduce you, I might add. No one thought I would become the Prince.” His voice dropped. “I didn’t want it. I never wanted it. And now…”

“And now,” said Adelaide. “You have no choice.”

“Aye,” said Hugh. “I must be the Prince of Greycoast. There is no one else of Chalsain blood, no one else the lords will agree to follow. Left on their own, they will bicker and succumb to the Aegonar one by one. I must be the Prince, or we shall lose both Barellion and the rest of Greycoast to the Aegonar.” 

“And because you must be the Prince,” said Adelaide, “we cannot wed. You need your vassals, Hugh. Wed the daughter of one and bind them closer to you. Lord Bryce has an unwed daughter, as do some of the others.”

Hugh shuddered. “I’ve met Lord Bryce’s daughter. Her temperament could make the Aegonar quail.” 

“Nevertheless,” said Adelaide, tears in her eyes. “You have to marry the daughter of a powerful lord. That means…that means we can no longer see each other.” She released his hands and stepped back. “This…this is farewell, then.”

For a moment Hugh stared at her. Her lips trembled, as if expecting a blow. She had remained calm through the Great Rising and the Aegonar invasion, but this...this had brought her to tears. 

“In the past month,” said Hugh, “I have lost my father, my brothers, been taken captive, threatened with execution, raised an army, and marched through war and battle to drive the foe from my city. I will not lose you, too, Adelaide. I will not. Marry me.”

“But you cannot wed me,” said Adelaide, blinking.

“You are entirely correct,” said Hugh. “I cannot wed the bastard daughter of a minor lord.” Adelaide closed her eyes for a moment. "I can, however, wed the only daughter and heir of the most powerful lord in northwestern Greycoast.”

“What are you talking about?” said Adelaide. “My father holds Castle Stormsea and a dozen small villages. He is hardly the most powerful lord in the northwest, and even if he were, the Aegonar conquered those lands anyway.”

“Also true,” said Hugh. “Lord Alberon is not powerful. He is, however, one of the few surviving lords from northwestern Greycoast who did not swear to the Aegonar and the serpent god.”

Adelaide’s frown deepened…and then her brown eyes grew wide. 

“So as a reward for Lord Alberon’s loyalty in the face of such harrowing danger,” said Hugh, “the Prince will strip the traitorous lords of their lands and bestow them upon Lord Alberon. And Lord Alberon, I understand, has only one living child, a bastard daughter, who shall inherit Lord Alberon's lands and titles upon his death. She will become one of the most powerful noblewomen in the northwest, assuming we ever manage to drive out the Aegonar. Marry me.”

“Yes,” whispered Adelaide, taking his face in her hands and kissing him long and hard. 

After a moment she pulled back, frowning.

“What is it?” said Hugh. 

“There is one duty I must perform at once,” said Adelaide. “My Prince, you will ride to war against the Aegonar.”

Hugh nodded. “As soon as we get matters settled in the city.” 

“You will be in danger,” said Adelaide, “and you are the last son of the House of Chalsain.” Her frown turned into a smile. “The Prince must have an heir, as soon as possible.”

Hugh grinned, and she led him from the hall.

The problems of Greycoast could keep for a little while.

###

“That is it,” said Molly, squinting into the sunset. 

She stood with Riothamus outside of Barellion’s western walls, on a narrow strip of rocky land between the walls and the canal to the River of Lords. 

The western sea stretched before them, painted a brilliant gold by the setting sun.

“It is,” said Riothamus, “much larger than I expected.” 

Molly shrugged. “You did say you had never seen an ocean before.” 

“So much water in one place,” said Riothamus. "How far does it go?”

“No one knows,” said Molly. “Sail north and you’ll go to Travia and then Northreach. Go south and you’ll find Knightport and Mastaria. Sail northwest and you’ll eventually hit the Aegonath Isles…if the Aegonar don’t burn your ship first. And go west…no one knows what lies west. The end of the world, maybe.” 

They stood in silence for a moment, seagulls cawing overhead. 

“It’s not over,” said Molly, “is it?”

“No,” said Riothamus. “Skalatan got away. And the Sight shows me more and more visions. The burning skull. A doorway of crimson flame beneath a mountain. A black temple with a pillar of fire. Something is about to happen, Molly, some dark and terrible thing. But I know not what.”

“Whatever it is,” said Molly. “We shall face it together.”

Riothamus smiled at her, and her hand found his.

They stood together and watched the sun slip beneath the sea.

###

Hugh Chalsain, Prince of Barellion, received both the diadem of Greycoast and the hand of Adelaide Stormsea in marriage in the great hall of the Prince’s Keep. Necessity forced a simple ceremony. Sir Edgar’s scouts reported that the Aegonar had withdrawn behind the River of Lords, but no one believed they would remain there. In three days’ time, after the city had been settled, the new Prince of Barellion would march with his vassals to make war upon the Aegonar. 

Mazael watched in silence as the vassals and knights, one by one, came forward to swear fealty to their new Prince. He had wished to leave for the Grim Marches at once, but Hugh and Riothamus had persuaded him to stay. One additional day, said Riothamus, would not make a difference, not when his spell could sustain Romaria for a thousand years. And Hugh had argued that without Mazael, Malaric would not have been defeated. 

So Mazael would stay for one day, if it helped Hugh secure his hold on Barellion.

For Mazael intended to return and settle matters with Skalatan. 

“My lords and knights!” said Hugh from the dais, addressing his assembled vassals. “Tomorrow, we march forth to make war upon the invaders who have ravaged our lands. Tonight we shall feast, in celebration of our victory over the murderer and usurper Malaric!”

The lords cheered. 

“But first,” said Hugh, “I wish to thank those who saved my life, and without whose help Malaric would have been victorious, and Barellion enslaved to the Aegonar.”

He descended from the dais, Adelaide at his side, and stopped before Mazael.

“Lord Mazael Cravenlock,” said Hugh, “Lady Molly Cravenlock. Riothamus, Guardian of the Tervingi nation. Know that you have my gratitude until the end of my days. Will you ask for no reward?”

“None,” said Mazael in a clear voice. “I have what I came to Barellion to claim, and Malaric has paid for his crimes. That is all the reward I seek.” 

“Let it be known,” said Hugh, “that Lord Mazael, Lady Molly, and the Guardian are friends of the Prince, and my vassals and knights are commanded to aid them in whatever what they can.” 

Mazael bowed to the Prince, and Molly and Riothamus followed suit. 

“And now,” said Hugh, “let us feast.”

###

“I will return,” said Mazael.

He stood with Hugh in a corner of the great hall as the lords and vassals ate and drank. All of Barellion celebrated – they had been delivered from the tyranny of the Aegonar, and the rightful Prince had defeated the usurper. 

But the war was not over yet.

“For Skalatan?” murmured Hugh.

“Aye,” said Mazael. “I have unfinished business with him. And Skalatan plans something dire. Something on the scale of the Great Rising.”

He could not tell Hugh the whole truth, not without revealing his Demonsouled nature. And in truth, Mazael didn’t know what Skalatan intended. Skalatan had told Mazael his plans, but Mazael didn’t know how the San-keth intended to carry them out.

Or if the serpent had even been telling the truth.

“Knightcastle,” said Hugh. “When Agantyr held me captive, Skalatan said Barellion was only an obstacle. His ultimate goal was Knightcastle.” 

“Knightcastle,” said Mazael. “Why?” If Skalatan desired to seize the power of the Demonsouled for himself, why go to Knightcastle?

“You have kin there?” said Hugh. “Your sister is married to Lord Malden’s youngest son, if I remember right.”

“She is,” said Mazael. “I have a nephew there as well. Aldane. We went to war with the Malrags after the San-keth kidnapped him. And Rachel likely has a second child by now.”

“I will send messengers to warn them,” said Hugh. “There have been rumors of…disturbances in Knightcastle for some time.”

“The Great Rising, no doubt,” said Mazael.

“Aye,” said Hugh. “But if Skalatan comes for them, Lord Malden must be warned.”

Mazael nodded. “But it will not matter if we defeat the Aegonar here. I mean to return, and not with just Molly and Riothamus. The combined strength of Greycoast and the Grim Marches will break the Aegonar and stop whatever Skalatan plans.”

“Thank you,” said Hugh. "As always, your aid would be most welcome."

They stood in silence for a moment.

“I look forward,” said Hugh, “to meeting Lady Romaria.”

Mazael grinned. “She’ll like you. And your wife.” He saw Adelaide speaking with a group of nobles. She said something, and the men laughed.   “You’ll leave in Barellion in good hands when you march against the Aegonar. She’ll have any troublemakers wrapped around her finger in a week or so.”

Hugh smiled. “I know. I just hope I can return home to her in one piece.” He sighed. “We do not live in peaceful times.”

“We do not,” said Mazael. He thought of Skalatan, of the runedead…and of Morebeth’s claim that the Old Demon would try to seize the accumulated power of the slain Demonsouled for himself. “And it will get worse before it gets better.”

“Serpents and armies of the dead,” said Hugh. “What can any man do against such foes?”

“The same thing we do against any other foe,” said Mazael. “Fight against them, and try to carve out peace and safety for our lands. Perhaps we shall fail. But if we do nothing, we shall fail anyway.”

“And better to fight and to fail,” said Hugh, “than to do nothing and perish.”

Mazael clapped him on the shoulder. “You will do well as Prince.”

Hugh managed a feeble smile. “I certainly hope you are right.”

###

The next morning Mazael rode through the Gate of Knights, Molly and Riothamus at his side. He sat atop a new horse, and led two more, laden down with supplies, all gifts from the grateful Prince and his new consort. 

“You know, I was surprised,” said Molly. “I thought the Skulls would try to kill me. Yet I saw a few of them in the streets, and they fled so quickly you’d think I had the plague.” 

Riothamus laughed. “Can you blame them? They sent Malaric to kill you…and looked what happened to him. From what you’ve told me, the First Dagger is wise enough to stay far away from you.”

Molly lifted her eyebrows. “Am I that terrifying?”

“Yes,” said Mazael.

Molly gave him an affronted look. 

“Because if you are slain,” said Mazael, “you will have a vengeful father and an equally vengeful betrothed hunting down your killers.”

“Why, Father,” said Molly. “How sweet. I love you too, you know.”

Mazael smiled. The pain from Skalatan’s venom still pulsed in his veins, but it felt better than it had in a long time. 

But there was only one thing that would ease the pain entirely.

He touched the vial of the serpent’s blood, secure in its padded wrappings.

“Let’s go home,” he said, and snapped the reins.

Mazael rode east, and did not look back.

Chapter 37 – The Lady and the Knight

The clang of steel and the shouts of dying men rang through the halls of Knightcastle. 

When the fighting began, Rachel barricaded the doors to her rooms in Ideliza’s Tower. With Elsie’s help, she dragged a table in front of the door and propped it with chairs. Elsie retreated into the bedroom with the children, and Rachel waited in the sitting room, standing near the doors to the balcony. 

If any attackers broke into the room, she hoped to reason with them. She was Gerald Roland’s wife, and the mother of Lord Malden’s only grandsons. Surely they had value as hostages. But depending on the kind of men who broke into the room, they might well rape her, kill her, and then kill the children.

Rachel steeled herself, her heart hammering, and waited. What had happened to Gerald? He had spoken to her for only a few moments after the battle, long enough to tell her than he planned to denounce Ataranur before Lord Malden and his assembled vassals.

It seemed that things had not gone well.

Rachel waited in fear, her hands trembling, but kept her face impassive. If death was going to claim her, she would greet it with a dignity befitting a daughter of the House of Roland.

Time passed. Rachel could not have said how much.

Someone knocked at the door. 

“Lady Rachel?” said a man’s voice, tight with strain.

“Who is it?” said Rachel.

“Sir Commander Aidan,” said the voice. “Please, I must speak with you.” 

“Why are you here?” said Rachel. Gerald had spoken well of Aidan Tormaud…but less well of Caldarus and the Justiciars, especially after the slaughter outside the preceptory. Aidan might have been a good man, but Caldarus was not, and Aidan was sworn to obey the Grand Master. 

“I mean you no harm, I swear,” said Aidan. “But…gods, I must speak with you. Please open the door.”

Rachel hesitated. She didn’t believe him, but if Aidan wanted to kill her, he could simply order a squad of Justiciar sergeants to hack down her door.

“A moment,” she said. She heaved the table away from the door, her muscles straining, and shifted the chairs. The door opened far enough for Aidan to squeeze inside.

“You’re unhurt,” said Aidan. “Good. I feared…”

“What has happened?” said Rachel. “Where is Gerald?”

“Your husband is still alive,” said Aidan. “At least, he was when they led him to the dungeons.”

“The dungeons?” said Rachel. “Why is he in the dungeons?”

“Lord Malden ordered it,” said Aidan. 

“What?” said Rachel. “You must explain!”

Aidan grimaced. “I don’t know what much you’ve heard, but Ataranur slew Caraster, and the runedead now obey Lord Malden. Sir Gerald…that was too much for him.” He shook his head. “An army of rotting corpses serving the Lord of Knightcastle? Gerald denounced Ataranur before the lords. He pulled off Ataranur’s mask, and…my lady, Ataranur is no High Elderborn.”

“Who is he, then?” said Rachel.

“Lucan Mandragon.”

Rachel blinked. “That’s impossible. My brother slew him. Lucan Mandragon is dead.”

“Perhaps he is,” said Aidan. “Tobias stabbed him through the chest, but Lucan took no hurt from the blow. Lord Malden ordered both Gerald and Tobias arrested, and there was fighting. Most of Malden’s vassals sided with Gerald and Tobias, and Lucan summoned runedead into the castle. The knights and armsmen could not stand against them. Your husband, his brother, and their supporters were imprisoned.” He took a deep breath. “Lord Malden has ordered them all beheaded on the morrow.”

“No,” said Rachel. “No. Lord Malden…his own sons…he would never order such a thing.”

“My lady,” said Aidan. “I heard it from his own lips.”

Rachel said nothing.

“You must speak with Lord Malden,” said Aidan. “He and Caldarus and Lucan are making plans of utter folly. They are going to lead Caraster’s runedead on some deranged crusade to rid the world of evil. Lord Malden was always fond of you. Perhaps you can make him see reason.”

“He beat Lady Rhea to a pulp,” said Rachel, numb, “for questioning him. He won’t listen to me. And…and it doesn’t matter. Don’t you see? The runedead obey Lucan, not Lord Malden. He's turned both Lord Malden and the Grand Master into his puppets. They’ll do whatever he wants. Gods, gods…”

She turned towards the balcony door, hoping to keep Aidan from seeing her tears. Her husband was going to die. She had always relied on him for his strength, his steady calm…what would she do if he was taken from her? And what would happen to their children? 

What would a monster Lucan Mandragon do to their children? 

Her jaw trembled, and she wanted to throw herself upon her bed and weep. Perhaps if she remained inconspicuous, perhaps if she begged Lucan for mercy, he might spare them…

Her mouth hardened into a tight line.

No.

She knew what kind of man Lucan Mandragon was. Mercy was not in him. He would kill her husband, would probably kill her and the children. And with an army of runedead, how many more would he kill? 

It was up to Rachel to save her husband.

The thought almost made her break down. 

But she did not. She had chased Malavost halfway across the world to save her son from his dagger. She would not weep now. She would not!

“What kind of man,” she heard herself say, “are you, Sir Commander?”

“A bad one, my lady,” said Aidan, “though I try to be a good one.” 

“Prove it,” said Rachel, turning to face him.

Aidan frowned. “I do not understand.”

“Lord Malden and your Grand Master have become monsters,” said Rachel. “And I am going to rescue my husband, his brother, and their men from their cells and flee with them.” 

“How?” said Aidan. 

“That is my problem,” said Rachel. “But your Grand Master wants them imprisoned. If I rescue them, I will be defying his wishes. And you are honor-bound to tell him.”

“My oath,” said Aidan, blinking. “My oath is to the Justiciar Order.”

“It is,” said Rachel, “and Caldarus has betrayed that. He has murdered innocent peasants and taken command of a host of rotting corpses animated by dark magic. Gods, Aidan! His newfound youth and strength! Do you think that has come from anything holy?” 

“No,” said Aidan.

She grabbed his hand and placed it upon his sword hilt.

“So,” she said. “Either cut me down and side with the devil your Grand Master has become, or help me to save my husband. And, maybe, to save Knightcastle and the Justiciar Order from Lucan Mandragon.”

She let go of his hand. For a long moment Aidan stared at her, his face working, his fingers clenching against his sword hilt.

At last he released his sword.

“What would you have of me?” he whispered.

“Elise!” shouted Rachel. Elsie emerged from the bedroom, Belifane and Aldane in her arms, glaring daggers at Aidan. “Come with us.”

Rachel would not let her children out of her sight. Not until this was over. 

“Where are we going?” said Aidan.

“To speak with Lady Rhea,” said Rachel.

###

A few hours later Rachel stood with Sir Commander Aidan and Lady Rhea in the darkened outer courtyard, trying and failing not to shiver.

She saw flares of green light upon the ramparts of the outer curtain wall, hundreds of them, and more upon the inner walls and watchtowers.

Runedead patrolled Knightcastle's walls.

A fortified barracks stood below the outer wall, guarded by a pair of Justiciar sergeants in blue tabards. Gerald, Tobias, and the others had been imprisoned in the cells below the barracks, and tomorrow morning would be taken to the barbican and beheaded. 

“You’re sure,” said Rhea, “that there are only two men on guard?”

Her voice had a slight lisp from the split lip Malden had given her. 

“Three, actually,” said Aidan. “One more will keep watch over the prisoners inside, even though the prisoners will be chained.” He gestured at the curtain wall. “And even if they break free, what of it? No one can outrun the runedead.” 

“Then there is nothing to do,” said Rhea, “but wait.”

So they waited in the shadows of a tower, unnoticed by the guards. The sergeants' expressions grew increasingly bored. Perhaps they had feared a desperate attempt to rescue the prisoners, armed men storming the barracks to fight both the Justiciars and the runedead.

Rachel doubted they had foreseen two noblewomen, two maids, and a loaf of bread. 

As if her thought had summoned them, two kitchen maids approached the barracks, carrying a tray of food. They stopped before the sergeants and began to speak. The maids were too far away for Rachel to overhear, but from the smiles that spread across the sergeants’ faces, Rachel could tell they were flirting.

Soon after that, the sergeants invited the girls to share the meal.

A little while later the sergeants toppled unconscious to the ground, drugged by the elixir the maids had mixed into the bread.

The maids hurried to the shadow of the tower and performed a curtsy.

“We did as you commanded, my lady,” said the younger of the two. “We mixed the draught into the bread. Will you take us with you? We don't want to stay, not when the castle is filled with dead things.”

“Well done,” said Rhea. “And you will certainly come with us. If Caldarus and his vile wizard learn what you have done, your lives will be forfeit. Come!” 

They hurried across the courtyard, Sir Commander Aidan in the lead. Rachel followed Rhea, Belifane cradled in her arms, and Elsie walked at her side, carrying Aldane. Both boys still slept, thank the gods. Rhea had provided Rachel with a tiny pinch of that sleeping draught, just enough to keep the children unconscious through their escape. 

Aidan pulled open the barracks door and strode inside, the women following.

He came to an abrupt stop.

The barracks were deserted, save for two Justiciar sergeants playing dice at a wooden table. Both sergeants rose, staring at them with hard eyes. 

“Sir Commander,” said the man on the left.

“I require the keys to the cells,” said Aidan. 

“Why?” said the sergeant.

Aidan scowled. “You question the lawful orders of a commander of the Justiciar Knights?”

Both sergeants said nothing. 

“Grand Master Caldarus, in his great wisdom,” said Aidan at last, “has shown clemency, and permitted these noblewomen,” he gestured at Rachel and Rhea, “to see their husband and sons one last time before they are executed. Now. I command you to give me the keys at once.” 

The sergeants grinned and reached for their swords. 

“The Grand Master said no one is to have the keys,” said the first sergeant. “And the Grand Master said that if anyone, even a preceptor or a commander, asks for the keys, we’re to kill them on sight.”

“Never killed a commander before,” said the second sergeant.

Both men charged, and Aidan yanked his sword from its scabbard. 

The blades clashed and clanged, the maids shrieked, and one of the sergeants fell dead. The remaining man drove Aidan back with a flurry of brilliant swordplay, Aidan’s face tight as he struggled to block. His back slammed into the wall, and the sergeant drew back his sword for the kill.

Lady Rhea seized a pitcher of water from the table and hammered it onto the back of the sergeant’s head. The man staggered with a gasp of pain, and Aidan’s sword came down.

The sergeant joined his fellow on the floor, their blood spreading over the cool stone. 

“Your assistance, my lady,” said Aidan, snatching the keys from the dead man’s belt, “was most timely.”

“You are welcome,” said Rhea. 

Aidan sighed. “Now I have spilled the blood of my fellow Justiciars. I have become a traitor and violated my oaths.”

“Oh, rubbish,” said Rhea. “Caldarus betrayed you first when he started listening to the likes of Lucan Mandragon. And I am about to betray my husband, something I thought I would never do. Come along, everyone. We haven’t the time to spend gawking at dead men.” 

Aidan led them down a flight of stone steps. The stairs ended in a narrow corridor lined with iron-barred cells on either side. Rachel glimpsed shadowy forms in the cells and heard the clink of chains.

“Who is there?” bellowed Tobias Roland. “Show yourself, you craven dogs!”

“Son,” said Rhea, “you must comport yourself with more lordly dignity.”

A stunned silence answered her.

“Mother?” said Tobias. “What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you,” said Rhea. She looked at Aidan. “Get the doors open, and give the keys to the maids.” Her cool eyes turned to the serving women. “Once the commander has the doors open, unchain the men.” 

No one ever refused Lady Rhea, and in a matter of moments, the prisoners had been freed. 

Rachel hurried through the press and found Gerald. He looked tired and grim, but otherwise unhurt, thank the gods, and she threw herself into his arms, Belifane pressed between them. 

“I don’t understand,” said Gerald. “How…”

“Your wife showed admirable initiative,” said Rhea. “She came to me with this plan, and I arranged to make it so.” She sniffed. “Even if my husband has become a fool, the Lady of Knightcastle still has a certain degree of influence.” 

“I thank you for my freedom, Lady Rhea,” said old Lord Agravain, rubbing his wrists, “but what shall we do next?” 

“We cannot fight our way out of the castle,” said Adalar Greatheart. “Not with all those runedead upon the walls.”

“We will do nothing of the sort,” said Rhea. “We can enter the Trysting Ways from here, and use them to leave the castle. I have horses waiting outside, and we can make our escape.”

“To where?” said Gerald. “Shall we abandon our lands and our people to Lucan Mandragon and his runedead? You see what he has done to Father and the Justiciars. Shall we spend the rest of our lives wandering in exile?”

“No,” said Rachel. “We will go to the Grim Marches and ask Mazael for help.” 

Silence answered her, and Adalar nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes. If anyone can fight Lucan Mandragon and his host of corpses, it is your brother, my lady.” 

“And Lord Mazael must be warned,” said Lord Nicholas, his thin face smudged with blood. “Lucan has convinced Lord Malden to lead the runedead on a mad war against the entire world.”