The Complete Twilight Reign Ebook Collection (270 page)

Read The Complete Twilight Reign Ebook Collection Online

Authors: Tom Lloyd

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Vampires, #War, #Fiction, #General, #Epic

BOOK: The Complete Twilight Reign Ebook Collection
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Trembling, he wiped the stinking spittle from his chin with a grimy sleeve. Away from the shaft of light, the room looked dark and still, wrapped in cold shadows. Nausea shivered through his body again, but Vesna did not care enough to fetch a bowl or move away from the puddle of puke. A black knot of pain was building behind his eyes, eating away at his mind.
‘Why her?’ Vesna whispered. The effort of speaking, even to an empty room, drained him of energy and his head sagged onto his chest. For a while he looked at the torn threads on his tunic where buttons had once been, and the wine-stains on the fabric. He didn’t remember putting that tunic on; his memory was a jangled mess. Only Tila’s face was clear.
What happened then, the glass arrow, was in the distant past, as was the duel he’d fought with the Elf. There were clouds in his mind, after that, voices talking over one another, faces overlaid with pain and blood, someone shouting in his ear, tentative hands leading him through the streets, faces filled with horror and terror . . . such a
long
time ago . . .
There was a sound behind him, a click and creaking. Once he had been able to recognise the noise of a door opening. Now, he didn’t turn. The sound belonged to a different time, one where Tila lived. Nothing mattered now. As a voice began to speak he tuned it out, staring, unfocused, at the wine-stains. The words flowed over him unheard as the ache behind his eyes sharpened with every beat of his absent heart. The sound filled his ears and rattled his ribs long after the voice stopped and he realised he was alone with his pain again.
‘She can’t be gone,’ he muttered, ‘she can’t be.’ But no matter how often he repeated the words, the hollowness in his belly remained and he knew the words were a lie. His God-given strength was useless against such overwhelming power. Karkarn’s
iron general
was surrounded and helpless; his forces were broken, his stratagem in tatters. He had been defeated. Nothing was left but pain —
The cloud of shadows was suddenly thrown back and Vesna felt an explosion of pain in his head as he was thrown sideways onto the floor. He crumpled, content to lie there, even as the years of training tried to cut in and force him to stand.
‘Get up, you useless streak of piss!’ yelled a voice. ‘On your feet, soldier!’
Vesna found himself dragged upright as he stared blindly at blurs that lurched and swayed. Before he could focus on anything he felt a hand slap him across the face with enough force to snap his head back.
‘You pathetic, fucking drunk! You shame her memory, boy!’ the voice roared, choked with rage.
Tila
. Energies caught life inside him, sparking like a lit fuse, and Vesna caught the next blow with one hand and struck out with the other, trying to shove his attacker away. From somewhere his sword slapped into his palm and then the blur disappeared from his eyes.
In front of him stood Marshal Carelfolden, his face red with rage, and Sir Dace, his cheek yellow with old bruising.
‘Get out,’ Vesna growled.
Sir Dace opened his mouth to reply, but Carel beat him to it. ‘Fuck off, you whining little brat! You want to be alone? You get out.’
Vesna took a step forward, power flooding though his body as the lit match became a mighty flame. ‘Get out or I’ll kill you,’ he growled.
Carel raised his head slightly, like a duellist en guarde. He held a long log in his hand, the one he’d smashed around Vesna’s skull. ‘Go on then, you damned coward. You can kill me, but don’t think you frighten me.’
‘I will kill you.’ Vesna raised his sword.
Carel spat on the floor at Vesna’s feet and tossed the log aside. ‘What are you waiting for then? I spent years around Isak and his temper; your grief’s nothing new. Want me to count the number of times he threatened me? From his thirteenth summer, that boy was strong enough to kill any man in the wagon train, and I’ve got the scars to prove his temper - and so does’ - he faltered momentarily, but caught himself - ‘and so did he.’ The rage in his eyes lessened, to be replaced by something Vesna recognised.
When Carel continued it was in a much quieter voice, though he was no less defiant. ‘You ain’t the only one who’s lost here, Vesna. You ain’t the only one who grieves for Tila.’
‘What do you want from me?’ Vesna asked.
Carel shook his head and his shoulder sagged. Now more than ever he looked the old man he was. ‘There’s no one here can tell you what to do. You’ve got to figure that out yourself - but if you just sit there I’ll keep swinging this log ’til your brains spill out or you gut me.’
‘Is this some sort of joke?’ Vesna said in bewilderment. ‘Just get out and leave me alone.’
‘Sorry, my friend,’ Sir Dace said with an apologetic shake of the head. Vesna’s oldest friend took a pace forward and pushed aside the Mortal-Aspect’s raised sword. ‘It’s no joke. You’ve been sitting here for more’n a week, and we won’t take it any more. Whether the words were spoken or not, you were married to Tila, and I swore to stand sentinel to that marriage.’
‘There’s no honour to defend now,’ Vesna whispered, dropping his sword. Dace stepped forward and slipped a shoulder under his friend’s arm.
‘Yes, there is,’ Dace said, his face tightening, ‘yours and hers. You think she’d want this? You think this is the memorial she deserves? A hero crippled with grief? A man both blessed and useless in one?’
Vesna shook his head. ‘What Tila would want?’ he whispered. ‘She’s dead, Dace, she doesn’t want anything now, and I — I can’t go on, not this way.’
‘No,’ Carel declared. ‘No, you can’t go on this way. I don’t agree with what you’ve done to yourself, but it’s done, and if your wife could accept it, so can and must I. And she did accept it, wholeheartedly and without reservation. She knew she’d be sharing you with Lord Karkarn, and there was never one word of complaint, not even after you left with the crusade. It was the duty you felt, the duty you chose, and she would never have stood in the way o’ that.’
‘You made her proud,’ Dace said, his voice soft, ‘so damned proud I could hardly believe it. You’re my best friend, and the finest soldier I ever met, and I’m proud to have served with you and fought alongside you - you know that. But for Lady Tila, it wasn’t just that. You were far more to her than your skill with a blade, much more, and I’d rather die than see you disappoint her that way. I won’t allow you to be less than the man she believed you to be.’
Tears were streaming down Vesna’s face, every time Tila’s name mentioned hitting him like a punch in the belly. In his mind he could see her, looking at him from the doorway, seeing the state of him now: hair matted and greasy, earrings of rank discarded, his body rank, his clothes filthy and stinking. ‘I don’t have the strength,’ he mumbled, ‘I don’t know what to do.’
‘You do your duty,’ Carel said gravely, ‘for better or worse, you do your duty. Karkarn’s your lord now, and Isak showed you the path. You make your fear and your pain a part of you; you use them as weapons, if what’s needed.’
Vesna sagged, leaning heavily on Dace. ‘How?’ he asked. ‘I don’t even know where to start.’
Carel and Sir Dace exchanged looks. ‘You start with a bath,’ they said together.
‘Ah, Vesna,’ the Chief Steward said, seeing the door to his office open, ‘do come in.’ He gestured to one of the chairs. ‘Please, have a seat.’
‘What do you want, Lesarl?’
The Chief Steward gave him an appraising look. The count still looked ragged around the edges, but it was a vast improvement on the wreck of a man Lesarl had tried to speak to a few days before.
‘What have you done with my clothes?’ Vesna continued, doing a poor job of hiding his mounting anger, but if Lesarl noticed it he gave no sign.
‘I removed them,’ Lesarl said eventually, sitting down behind his desk. There were leather-wrapped files scattered everywhere, but Lesarl didn’t take his eyes off Vesna as he reached out and touched one of the files with two fingers. ‘They are the accoutrements of a count of the Farlan, and legally you cannot possibly be that.’
‘You stole my clothes?’ Vesna gestured at the dark grey brigandine he wore, far plainer than anything he would normally wear in the palace. The only detail was a small bronze pin on the collar bearing Karkarn’s device.
‘And your earrings,’ Lesarl replied brightly.
Vesna’s black-iron-clad fingers flexed. ‘You think now’s the time for this conversation?’
‘I am bound to enforce the law,’ Lesarl said by way of reply. ‘Naturally the cults are demanding all your worldly possessions and deeds now belong to them, but given the unusual circumstances, it will be easy to delay any ruling for as long as you need.’
‘Need?’
Lesarl again pointed to the chair. ‘Please, Vesna - sit.’ When at last the Mortal-Aspect of Karkarn did, Lesarl continued, ‘Your title and noble possessions will be held by the Lord of the Farlan until such a time as you express a wish as to what should be done with them.’
Vesna leaned forward. ‘You can piss them away for all I care. They hardly matter now.’
‘They matter quite a bit,’ Lesarl corrected, ‘symbolically, as much as anything. You have been a faithful servant of the tribe and you are a hero of the Farlan Army - I tend not to piss away, as you so delightfully put it, such powerful symbols.’
‘As you wish. I’ve no use for them,’ Vesna growled. ‘Is that all you wanted from me?’
Lesarl pushed forward a second file, a slim one this time. ‘Not quite. First you should read this.’
‘Why?’ There was no reply and after a moment Vesna gave in and grabbed the file, knocking some on the floor as he did so. He flipped it open and read the top page. ‘It’s a murder report.’
‘Indeed it is. Look underneath.’
Vesna did so and frowned. ‘Another murder report. Both priests; what’s wrong, Lesarl, one of your agents go beyond their remit again?’
‘Can you see the link between them?’ Lesarl asked. ‘It’s rather easy to spot.’
‘They’re both priests of Karkarn - is that why you think I’ll care?’ Vesna stood. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, Karkarn and I aren’t exactly speaking right now.’ The iron fist tightened again. ‘If he hadn’t interfered at the shrine there’s a good chance . . .’ He stopped, then whispered, ‘There’s a good chance Tila would still be alive.’
‘And you would likely be dead,’ Lesarl pointed out. ‘Karkarn saved your life, and like it or not, it was the right thing to do.’
‘Right?’ Vesna yelled, slamming his fist onto Lesarl’s ornate monstrosity of a desk, hard enough to make it shudder under the impact. ‘You had better carefully consider the next words to come out your mouth.’
‘Vesna,’ Lesarl said in a quieter voice, ‘I do not pretend to know your pain, I would not presume that.’ He took a long, slow breath, and saw Vesna do the same after a moment. He had had years of practice with Lord Bahl’s grief and temper over the murder of his lover, replayed in Bahl’s dreams, thanks to the Menin. He could recognise the tipping points well enough. ‘Vesna, you must believe me: it gives me no pleasure to remind you, but someone has to.’
‘Remind me of what?’
‘As much as it will make you laugh until you’re sick - remind you of your duty.’
Vesna gaped. ‘
Duty?
You think I care about duty now?’
‘Of course not.’ Lesarl held up a hand to stop the angry retort he could see forming on Vesna’s lips. ‘Lord Bahl taught me about duty: it’s a heartless mistress, but it binds as powerfully as love, or grief.’
He stood up and walked halfway around the desk. ‘Vesna, we’ve known each other for many years, and in all that time your duty has guided your actions and shaped the man you have become - a man who realised he was being offered a difficult, unforgiving path, and who had the courage to take it all the same.’
‘Whatever you’re getting at,’ Vesna said, rising and heading towards the door, ‘I’m not interested.’
‘Really?’ Lesarl said in a sour tone. ‘Then perhaps I was wrong all those years ago when I first asked you to work for me. I had thought you more than just a thug for hire. I didn’t think you’d ever be one to run away from your duty, not ever.’
Before he could blink Vesna had moved back to the desk and grabbed Lesarl by the throat, driving him backwards into a bookcase of files.
‘Enough of your shit! You’ve used me like a toy for years - in the service of your own sick sense of humour more than the tribe. Is this anything more than the petulance of a twisted child whose plaything has been stolen away? You sicken me, you and all those who play games with the lives of others! I’ve had enough of it; I’ve lost more in your games than anyone could be asked to give, and I’m not playing any more!’
‘You’ve lost?’ Lesarl gasped, ‘you accuse
me
of petulance? You claim you’ve lost more than anyone should?’ Vesna shook him like a dog, but Lesarl continued with sudden, rare anger, ‘Damn you, Vesna, you’re not the one who’s lost here; you’ve come out ahead of the rest of us and now you think you can just walk off with your winnings?
Tila
lost,
Lord Isak
lost,
Lord Bahl
lost - the Gods alone know how many soldiers who looked to you for inspiration lost as they died in battle. It wasn’t their fight, it wasn’t their war - but they marched for the tribe,
and they died for the tribe!
’

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