The Exodus Sagas: Book III - Of Ghosts And Mountains (43 page)

“And if we were to remove this necklace? What then, assassin?”

“I would stop Prince Johnas from killing the King of Harlaheim and claiming this kingdom as his own.” Balric was on one knee now, his body wracked with pain, yet his hand still reached for the saber.

“Good, then I will trust dear Angeline and not end you right here.
We have company
.” Kalzarius looked to the street from his view from the alley. Two men walked, speaking quietly and moving at a quick pace toward him, their hands on their blade hilts. Behind them six others darted through shadows, moving closer by the moment..

“I have company, you mean.
For you are a dead man!”
Balric got to his feet, saber and shortblade in his hands, robes rippling with the arcane forces against him. Inch by inch, he backed Kalzarius down the alley.

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The fog lifted her over the wall and onto the balcony. Winds whipped the cloaks of guards in front of their helmed faces. Torches snuffed out from the sudden gale and clouds passed overhead to block the light of the green moon. Angeline thanked the weather in silent prayer, and slid over the rail outside the dining hall. She listened through the glass, waiting for her moment, watching from a pressed position against the outer wall of L’Herrim Castle. The voices were muffled, she focused on her blade
Charity
asking for better hearing, and it was given with a faint feeling of love and appreciation.

“I will sign only if the Legion is under my command, not yours Cardinal. This trade route discussion with Caberra and Chazzrynn needs no papers. Rebuilding this kingdom, with your assistance of course, seems more of a stranglehold than an agreement. Let us rectify that.” Richmond looked the mess of documents over, not at all happy with what was proposed.

“Yes, yes. But sign and we will make the adjustments. I assure you, I am the Cardinal of the Aldane. Our bishops need to see you agree with their help, they need reassurances as well, your majesty. Yes, yes.” Arilli was doing well he assumed to himself, appearing old and insistently wise. He touched the king’s hand gently, smiling.

“Your majesty, these papers are just that, easily burned or altered if need be, just sign and---“ Johnas was cut off, his smile vanishing.

“Valhera, your little display at dinner is rather fresh on my mind, so do not attempt to placate me with tricks and fine words. I know your reputation well enough.”

“I am hurt, deeply, Richmond. I was playing to the crowd, as you well know. Think nothing of it. If they feel you and I are friends, they will see a coup for a coup. If they see us as rivals, all the better for them to feel they have a side and say in your kingdom. I am making enemies here, to leave you with friends when I go back home. Think ahead, if you would.” Johnas thought he had him, twisting and snaking with every chance he was offered. He nodded to his deadliest men and woman, disguised as servants here, and they went to change.

“I will sign this one only, and that is final.
The Crossguard Legion will remain in force at the capital, under the guidance of the church and nobility, until peace, safe trade, and prosperity are returned to a level that satisfies both King and the Aldane
. There, the rest can burn.” Richmond the Second signed the single parchment knowing full well he would have what he needed as far as military strength with the army of Alden here. He could write letters as to dismissing them when he had accomplished what he needed.

His eyes opened wide as he set the feathered quill down, the Cardinal waved his hands over the parchments and the same signature began to write on each and every one, ink from thin air, perfect duplicates. He looked up from the table, staring at the high priest of the church of Alden in shock, and watched his form, face, and clothing shift and turn into a duplicate of himself. Richmond heard the laughter from Johnas, saw the movements of those unknown servants from behind tapestries, and watched as the Prince of Valhirst drew a shining wavy kris blade.

“Guess this will start sooner than I had expected.” Johnas smiled.

“Guards!” The King of Harlaheim drew his ornamental rapier, never having used it before, then he doubled over in pain. The window crashed open, shards of glass shattering over everyone. The blade of Johnas pulled from his chest as moist air raged unnaturally from outside.

Twenty armored guards fought the gale and rushed to protect their fallen king. Eight more servants appeared, drawing rapiers and charging Johnas and the false king. The Prince of Valhirst backed up with Ariili. He eyes caught a figure leap through the air and land on the table, she was surrounded by owls, bats, pigeons, and a hundred more swirling birds. The winds died down, the fog and clouds lifted from their abnormal flow, and a red haired woman glared at Johnas Valhera from atop the long dining table as she drew an exquisite hand and a half blade from her side.

“Diamond, Emerald, Silk, and Ruby! Show our hosts here some southern hospitality!” As Prince Valhera looked for a clearer view of the lady with the birds, four scimitars and four shortblades pulled from scabbards of the servants by the wine rack. Masked now, all in black leather and garb, the four of the Emerald Eight moved in between their patriarch and the twenty four guarding the dying Harlian king.

Complete chaos broke out in the dining hall. The false king had no one fooled and Ariili was mobbed quick by four royal guards. The four deadly agents of the White Spider slashed and stabbed, rolled and dove, cutting fast through armored soldiers of Harlaheim. Three grabbed their bleeding monarch and made for the doors. Then a swarm of avians of every type formed a tight line in the air and crashed into Johnas Valhera, dozen after unrelenting dozen. Feathers flew, screeches and shrieks echoed off of walls in the night, then the emerald kris blade began to slice a path. Johnas drew a dagger and swatted his way toward the woman.

Angeline met the prince of Valhirst, blade to blade, parry to parry. Their blades danced up and down in chops, then side slashes, then thrusts as the faster Johnas backed his opponent away from her pets. His face was scratched, his hands both pecked and bleeding, yet he smiled and stepped in on the mysterious woman in green robes. Her blade was heavier, longer, but parried everything he managed to assault her with. The steel rang viciously, as if the blades hated each other more than their wielders.

The four assassins of the Emerald Eight had killed seven and left four more screaming on the red carpets. They stuck close, eight blades weaving from what seemed one opponent, and stepped surely, killing quick anyone within reach. Their skills with parries and bladework were unmatched here with royal guard of Richmond. The feinted scimitar slashes were followed by deadly shortsword thrusts that punctured steel and flesh faster than the slow armored men they faced. Once five to one odds, now only ten on four.

The birds and bats swarmed him again, this time circling like angry bees and he was the nest. Johnas swatted and ducked, then began moving forward once more. His female killer ran at him, leapt, kicked off the wall, and landed behind him. She looked back from the broken window she had entered through, sheathed her blade, and held out her hand with a smiling face looking to her adversary. An owl, white and brown one of small size, dove by her and dropped something in her hand. Then, she was gone out the balcony.

Johnas looked to his rather torn up hand, held it up to his face as the battle raged on and the birds all scattered for the open window. The ring was gone.

“
Balric
!” The Prince yelled, stepping over a bleeding and bulging doppelganger trying to change form to the King again, and joined his four in cutting down any survivors.

Richmond ran down the stairs, shrugging off his guards help, dropping his blade as he held his bleeding chest. He reached the throneroom, there was Sir Phillip. He had men with him, he knew he was safe and would see Johnas Valhera beheaded along with his creature. Richmond knew he should have listened to Sir Sebastian when he came to him about the Cardinal, hopefully it was not too late.

“
Phillip! Help me, Johnas has attacked! Save your king
!” His lips tasted of blood, the pain was sharp and deep.

“Men, seize this false creature that appears as the king, and take its head!” Sir Phillip drew his rapier and his men stomped toward the king.

Richmond turned and ran the other way, stumbling and holding his bleeding wound. He heard the screams of his guards and blade wielding servents from up the stairs, so he ran toward the front doors to L’Herrim in hopes the crowd would protect him. The passage opened, more guards came from the stairs as fog rolled into the foyer.

He looked up to his left, Johnas and the false King with four masked men approaching quick. To his right, the balcony had royal guard taking aim at none other than him, their own king. Behind, swirling in panic as he was, Sir Phillip marched with more guards all pointing rapiers at him. Richmond ran into the fog as fast as he could, not able to see anything.

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The staff pushed back, a saber and shortblade crossed over it, inches from his own throat. Kalzarius was ready, the words arcane of a spell to incinerate this assassin had passed his lips and waited for a final gesture. “
Balric, stop
!”

Kalzarius’ words held power, Balric felt the arcane energy force him back a foot or two. Yet the necklace had him lunge right back through, intent on murdering this wizard. “
I cannot!”

“What goes on here?” The accent was Caberran, yet two blades unsheathed from behind them.

Balric rested for a moment, he sensed his priorities had changed. It was Prince Edians behind him. He turned and lunged, disarming the shamshir in one unforeseen chop. His shortblade aimed for the chest, parried at the last moment by a rapier from Sir Sebastian who was more than ready. He countered with his saber, knocking down the rapier of the Harlian knight. He saw two targets, then he stopped.

“Run Prince, run!” Sebastian stepped in front of the Bishop, between him and the visiting Prince.

“
No, stop! It’s gone, Kalzarius take it off!”
Balric dropped his blades, struggling to reach under his robes and get to the necklace.

“
Kalzarius
? What are you doing here, what is all of this?” Sebastian picked up his blade, and the blade of the Caberran Prince. He stepped on the two swords of the Bishop and kept his sword pointed an inch from his chest.

“No time Sir Sebastian, no time. Help me get this necklace from Balric’s neck. I will explain later.” The old master of the arcane assisted the black robed Harlian man. The necklace, heavy thick platinum, glowed as it fell to the cobblestone.

“What is that that it glows so?” Prince Edians Del Barrato took his blade from the knight.

“
Luiminaro duthes sestralic
!” Kalzarius pointed his fingers, unleashing a ray of orange and purple light. Moments later, a puddle of melted precious metal seeped into the stones of the street. “Nothing now, nothing. Angeline must have succeeded.”

“Who is Angeline? What is the meaning of this, you must tell me!” Sebastian still held his blade to Balric.

“We must save your king, unworthy as he is. Your kingdom is under attack on the most high and noble level, Lord Knight Errant. Prince Johnas is---“ Kalzarius stopped.

Bells gonged from the castle cathedral, moments later from another. The Prince of Caberra, Balric, Kalzarius, and Sir Sebastian listened, frozen in the night, as the bells tolled and rang throughout the city. They tolled for only one reason in such manner, the king must be dead.

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“
Attention!
” Sir Phillip came to point, all the men as well.

The throneroom was dark as Johnas Valhera helped the guards carry a very dead looking Richmond down the spiral stairs on a wooden stretcher. Ariili the doppelganger looked pale, blood on his royal garb, unmoving. It looked believable indeed. Johnas’ cuts and blood looked real enough, as they actually happened minutes ago, though not from any blade. Four masked bodyguards watched from shadows and hidden vantages within the castle, cleaning their weapons of the blood from the butchery in the dining hall. None of them had as much as a scratch.

As the duplicate body was presented in the hall, three hundred men of the royal guard, Harlaheim capitans, and ranked Crossguard Legionairres all knelt in unison. The bells tolled again, and Johnas took knee next to Sir Phillip by the throne. Tears ran from many a man, false ones from those where Richmond once sat, and a few tired sobs echoed in the castle.

“Did you attain our missing monarch, as expected?”
Johnas, face streamed with false tears and forming scabs, whispered from his lowered head.

“
He will die from bleeding, if my men do not get him first. They are on his trail. Either way, he sits dead before us here
.”

“
Not good enough, I do not play well with failure.”

“
Your Bishop was supposed to take care of it, not I. I do not play well with blame.”
Phillip looked from his respectful position of sorrow, tears in his eyes waiting to fall.

“
Well spoken. I had not expected the woman, whoever she is. I will send out my four to eliminate them. Balric, the woman with the birds, Sebastian, Richmond, and the Prince of Caberra will die tonight. You do as ordered.”
Johnas looked to the priest that entered. He would be concerned should the doppelganger in guise as Richmond be young, but Ariili could control his very bloodflow and heartbeat with ease in his ancient age.