The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns (55 page)

Alec Silverblade crept through the courtyard that was filled with thousands, his cloaked figure moved within the shadows that the passing clouds and towering castle provided. He stopped under the cover of one of the few trees in L’Herrim’s yard and gazed up to the balcony. Trumpets blaring did nothing to the mass of
boos
and defiant roars of an angry population in the city of Harlaheim. Like a wave of bodies during a storm at sea, the crowd compressed closer to the rows of royal guards that stood at th
e gates in heavy plate armor with
long polearms at the ready. The injured swordsman saw King Richmond the Second dressed in all his finearies with the Queen’s hand in his as they approached the edge of the platform
far
over th
e
crowd.
He had heard through the marketplaces that morning that Bishop Javiel and Seneschal Florin were to be executed, blamed for all the corruption that Alec was privy to know was just as much the king
’
s doing. All he wanted was to find his mistress and teacher before it was too late.

“My people of Harlaheim, we have had many tragedies of late!” Richmond put his hand out, glanced to the queen impostor, who in turn put her hand out
,
palm forward
,
just like her supposed husband. Seeing the two in unison caused the
boos
to degenerate into mutterings and confusion more than direct outrage. Richmond looked at the banners and flags above the castle walls, the rose entwined in the crown of Harlaheim. He smiled at the feathered cross of Alden on a flag held by a commoner in the crowd.

“You have had sieges on a beloved icon of the mystical arts! We have had riots in the city streets! Our own knights of the kingdom and of Alden the merciful have been lost and murdered! My own wife was accused of crimes she did not commit! And we, you and I, have suffered under the machinations of two people who tried to overtake not only our city, but our kingdom!
By the grace of God, they did not succeed! By the valiant honor of the knights and armies of our great nation, they are here to face justice!
Our armies bravely rescued the queen and I from
abduction and death, and brought us the progenitors of the terrible treasons!
I give to you the betrayers of morality
and would be usurpers to the thrones
! I give to you, with my loyal queen by my side, Bishop Javiel and Seneschal Florin!”

No truthsayer could stop it, no army of priests could hold back the call for justice and blood that the crowd cheered for. Lies or no lies, in the minds of the people, those that had to answer for the crimes were named and about to meet the guillotine that moment. Richmond knew his people, he knew people in general, and he knew them all too well.
Give them food, give them blood, and give them leadership.
When life was hard or times withering of morale, give them someone to blame and die for it.

Alec heard the words, the names he had hoped were not true
. The White Spider betrayed by the king?
His mind raced and his wounds ached as the blood pumped faster through his body. He needed to put a mask on, to stop this
before Florin was executed. Looking
around for other possible m
embers within the courtyard,
he saw none. The black clad executioners walked from the castle gates and received the array of
oohs
and
aahs
they expected. Alec looked toward the stables, the up to the king and queen, he had not much time. The queen had noticed him, she was looking back at him through everyone, she was looking at him
now
. The young swordsman pushed through the crowd
of thousands
to the stables, fearing it wa
s
only a matter of moments be
fore guards were sent after him by the queen.

“Richmond, I have to go. Something is happening down there.” Florin kept her smile, but his grip would not let her go. She had seen Alec Silverblade looking for someone. She could only assume it was her and that he was unaware of her posing as the queen.
The likeness was too good, her own man did not know of it.

“No, my queen.” h
e squeezed her hand tighter. “You will stay with me. I have a peasant girl dressed as you that will fit the bill fine, no one here will know. You can hunt Rosanna later, but for now you must remain at my side to show the people unity. Now smile, and remain still.
You failed to find her, now we move along.
” h
e yelled through a gritted smile.

“But one of my men
, Alec,
is down there and—“

“Silence, my queen. I do not care to hear more of your failures. In a moment, it will not matter.”

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Rosana paced in the stables, starving and afraid. Her feet were numb from being bare and her body was shaking from the cold of having a mere tunic and set of white robes to cover her. She peered out the crack in the stable wall again, watching the crowd roar at the guillotine and the speech of the king. No one would believe her if she walked out and
spoke the truth, no one would hear. Her head would be on the block in moments and she knew she was trapped in here. All the horses were out, which meant the army was massed outside the city. Having nowhere to go, the beaten and bruised queen sat in the hay and waited for something, anything.
She had seen through the cracks, the imposter queen waving her hand far above the crowd. She dared not be seen, her rule was over.

“My queen? Is that you?”

A voice from the corner of the stables eeked out, seemingly from under the haypile. Rosana stood back
up, startled. She wondered if she was dreaming, going mad perhaps, for there was no one there. “Hello? Is there someone here?”

“You are alive, that is good.
Where….is…..Savanno
?”

The voice trickled off faintly, like a drowning whisper. Rosana crept closer, shivering, but walked toward the corner. Blood, dried and dark, a pool of blood lay at the base of the haypile next to a gloved hand. She could see an eye looking back at her through the hay, tired and drowsy, but he saw her and recognized her. She crouched and began uncovering the hay from the hidden man, a knight of Saint Tarumin by the feathered cross on his armband. Rosana covered her mouth as not to scream or cry. She stared at Sir Sulian Lisario, covered in his own blood from several arrows that protruded from his side, leg, and shoulder.

“Sir Sulian, we must get you to a temple, to a priest, you are badly injured.” Rosana wept, knowing why he had been hurt and why he was hiding in the castle courtyard for the last two days. It had been for her, sh
e knew it, for her and Savanno to escape. She also saw he could not move, his lower half seemed dead already.

“
I do not think much can …be done…my queen. Is your…execution…waiting outside
?” h
is shaved head felt not the caress of the woman he had served for the past decade. His eyes were trying to close, but he fought hard with what little strength he had left to talk and stay awake.

“Yes, Florin sits as me on the throne with Richmond. I escaped the prison, but now I have nowhere to go, no clothes, no coin, no food. You can help me get to Saint Erinsburg if we get you out of here, Sulian. You are a knight of Harlaheim who rescued me, and if we can—“

“
No, beautiful Rosana…I can not…feel my legs or arms…but if you go down the grate…follow—“

“I just came from there, it’s horrible and it leads back to the prison under L’Herrim where they kept me. Why can’t you just heal up and take me? I have no one here now, I am so alone Sulian.” Rosana sobbed on the dying man’s chest.

“
Follow…it to the right…all the way…before it exits out of the city…there is…a wall with…scratches. It is a safe…house we used during…the war. Food…clothes…stay there and…get to Cristoff…before they get him…too. Please.”
h
is words flickered in and out of whisper to guided last breaths.

“Don’t leave me too, please
no
.” Rosana heard something at the door
, then saw the wooden beam lift off from the outside as a blade jammed up into it.

The door swung open and shut quickly, the dark cloaked figure put the beam back on as fast as he could, then proceeded to pull a black mask up over his mouth and nose. He put an oil from h
is pouch on the floor and
let it smoke as he removed the cap from the bottle. He slowly
waved his rapier
in the smoke, c
overing the blade
with a dark film. The man was preparing for something that required stealth and secrecy, and obviously he was not part of the city guard.

Sulian coughed and spasmed, yet placed his rapier in Rosana’s hand. “
Kill…him…my lady. Kill hi
m and run. I go to meet Alden, my lord of mercy and heaven
.
I go to meet Savanno.
I will…pray for…you.”
h
is eyes closed and breathing stopped.

“Who is there?” Alec looked behind the beams and haypiles where he heard a cough and whispering. “Who is that?”

Rosana kept her body in front of the rapier,
back to the man in black,
so that whoever this was could not see she was armed
or who she was
. She did not speak, she did not move.

Alec Silverblade looked at the tunic and the torn clothes, the short hair and bruised face of a woman crouched next to a dead knight.
It was his domenarch, awaiting execution, he was sure of it.
“
Florin
?”

His eyes widened as the woman turned and plunged the rapier through his chest and out the other side
. Through the ribs the steel went, all the way to the crossguard, her eyes closed the whole time. Choking on his own blood, eyes watering against his will, Alec knelt next to the woman who had just run him through, the woman he thought was Florin. He tried to speak with words that would have had many questions, but nothing but a few rigorous gasps released from his throat.
The steel was cold, her eyes opened and he saw that she was not Florin, but the queen instead. Rosana pulled the blade from his chest slowly, looked down at
the blood coating it, and dropped the sword and covered her mouth. She had never killed anyone before.

Rosana stood up, trying not to look at all the old blood of Sulian and the fresh pool of steaming crimson that was collecting under the dead man she knew as Alec, one of Florin’s thugs. She grabbed a bucket of water, and began stripping the clothes off of Alec. She cleaned the blood and filth off of them, boots, gloves, his shirt and cloak. Nothing fit well, but with the tightening of the belts it would do. Rosana sh
eathed his rapier back in its scabbard
. She waited for
the crowd. Then,
during the last few minutes
of cheering, the guillotine
struck twice. Once for the bishop, and once for whoever was named as Seneschal Florin.
The cheers died off with the recently dead, and she knew it was time.

Rosana opened the stable door and walked directly to the g
rate, through a chattering
crowd that had been placated with death, courtesy of King Richmond and the impostor queen of Harlaheim. She kept walking, toward the grate that was still slid open, ignoring the looks, ignoring the yells
of murder
as someone must have gone into the stables and seen the bodies. The former queen slipped into the grate
,
into the sewer tunnels and never looked back.
She wanted to cry, to go to church and pray, to curl up and die. She had no time for that now, she had to find her way to Saint Erinsburg.
For her and the child in her womb.

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Johnas
sat in the covered
wagon that was guarded by thirty
of his m
en. Roricdale was two days yet, however,
he had been enjoying the time away from
the pressures of
Valhirst. Balric had been completely subservient and quiet, partially from his hatred and partly from the necklace that held him under the Prince’s control.
Johnas knew as much, and hoped to yoke that anger into something of great value very soon. His mind went to all his schemes in progress. The taking of power in Harlaheim, his strengthening of Devonmir’s financial tithes, new underground operations in the holy land of Altestan, and finally his cloaked revolt here in Chazzrynn. He thought also of his eight most
t
rusted agents, the ones who moved in and out of various cities and kingdoms enforcing his will throughout the domenarchs that controlled each of
the webs that he had built
.
Each was followed by another
u
nbeknownst to them, the shadow agents
of his dominion
were not known to each other or anyone
in
the White Spider, those eight
w
ere known only to Johnas himself, and Vanessa
.
He usually knew of treachery and deceit long before it was common knowledge, even as far away as Jal-Adeen or Falligarde
to the far west
. Yet to the Prince, every agent was vital and every conversation held great weight and purpose.
Each of the Emera
ld Eight was followed
, and
Johnas kept the web spinning and always kept well informed on things well beyond a Prince of Chazzrynn.