Tower of Destiny, page 10
Adrina followed her father as he called out to her and Valam. They went out the rear doors of the great hall and made a direct path for the council. Keeper Martin and Father Jacob flanked her father and behind them were a dozen of the King’s Knights. Myrial and Garette followed the others out the front doors of the hall.
The Battle of Quashan’ had hardened Adrina and, to be sure, the death and madness all around her had changed her forever. Wars changed people. There was no going back. No finding the person that had been there before. She had a new and profound understanding of life and death. The value of life, the finality of death. But a battle and a war hadn’t taken away her pain—she had. She had found a way to look inside herself and find a way past the pain.
None of that had prepared her for what she had just seen. Her father had killed a man before her eyes, in a room full of people who had simply accepted his meting out justice.
She loved her father beyond doubt. She could sense the danger. She understood Valam’s warning. Still, that didn’t mean she had to accept everything that was happening. If she couldn’t understand what was happening, how could she accept it?
The palace was in chaos. It seemed the madness of the last few days was spreading to everyone and everything. She was scared, trembling.
She fought to find control. She couldn’t show fear in front of the council. She was an Alder.
Her private thoughts ended when they reached Council Hall. The doors opened. The king and the entourage that she was a part of swept into the crowded room. She could see that both houses of the council were assembled as well as representatives from the noble houses.
The king took his place at the far side of the triangular table that dominated the room. Father Jacob and Keeper Martin followed, each taking their place at the table. Chancellor Yi indicated that she should stand behind her father, next to Valam. She did.
Voices that had been raised in anger and outrage as the doors opened fell away to quiet whispers. Eventually the whispers fell away as well.
It was when the hall was absolutely quiet that King Andrew stood, surveyed the hall. “So you’ve come,” he said after many long minutes of uncomfortable silence. “Word goes out. Whispers spread through the realm. You come as buzzards to the kill.”
One of the council members jumped from his chair. “You misunderstand, majesty. You don’t—”
“I don’t what?” interrupted King Andrew. “Speak quickly now.”
The councilor sat back down without another word.
One of the noblemen seated in the high seats to the right of the table stood. “I am Peter Eragol, the seventeenth Peter of my line, Baron of Eragol, of Family Eragol.”
“I know who you are,” said the king.
Peter Eragol turned his eyes about the room, then stared directly at the king, his gaze unwavering as he spoke. “There are some who say the House of Alder has lost touch with the people, forfeited its power and the right to rule.” Gasps crisscrossed the hall—Peter Eragol spoke treasonous words.
Adrina did more than gasp. She nearly lost control. The Eragols were one of the most powerful families. They were the Wardens of the Mouth of the World. Their fleet in Eragol Bay was the largest in the Kingdom. They controlled shipping along the Krasnyj River, shipping lines that brought the majority of supplies to Solntse and Imtal.
Valam reached his arm around Adrina to steady her. His movements were subtle, making it look to any who had their eyes on them that he was simply reaching out to his sister. Adrina recovered nicely, the evident dismay in her expression fading as she regained her composure.
Chancellor Yi was the first to speak when the murmurs quieted. “I wonder, Peter,” he said walking toward the baron. “May I call you, Peter?” The baron was obviously taken aback by the familiar greeting and mocking tone, but said nothing, so the chancellor continued. “I wonder if you’d be so bold if you knew what I know.”
“And just what is that?” snapped the baron, his tone showing irritation. He didn’t like being addressed by the king’s underling. Clearly he wanted the king to respond—no doubt he had planned the clever rebuffs that would help drive home his point.
On the chancellor’s signal two guards dragged in the body of the dead commander. The baron’s hauteur quickly fell away. He stumbled back into the chair behind him—there was no one to catch him. Any supporters he may have had were probably busy thinking up clever denials.
That her father was wise and had excellent advisors, Adrina had no doubts. He had defied tradition, held a meeting with his commanders before speaking to the council. Any plans for seizing power should have been crushed right there, she knew, but didn’t dare to hope.
There was clear tension in the air. She wondered if her father or one of his men would kill the baron right then in front of everyone.
She closed her eyes for a few heartbeats. It didn’t help. When she opened her eyes, everything was the same.
She waited, remembered her poise. She must stand tall and true. She was a princess, an Alder.
“I am Peter Eragol,” the baron said, “the seventeenth Peter of my line, Baron of Eragol, of Family Eragol. I have a voice. I will be heard.”
Someone started to snicker. The situation wasn’t funny, but the snickering spread. The Baron of Eragol was quickly reduced to a babbling fool. He continued to babble though no one listened.
The king turned to the council and spoke. Adrina heard the words, but didn’t really listen. To her, it seemed they were just starting to unravel the treachery that had led to the attacks on Great Kingdom. She was certain they hadn’t heard the last of the East Warden of the Word. That King Jarom could reach into the highest circles of power in the Kingdom, there wasn’t any question. That he could do it and get away with it, terrified her.
When the meeting ended Valam took Adrina by the arm and led her from the hall. They didn’t speak until they reached her quarters. “Was this your doing?” she asked, “Some message from the old woman that you didn’t tell me of?”
Valam secured the door, walked across the room before responding. “Not mine,” he said quietly. “When I first arrived from Quashan’ Father Jacob told me of a divide growing in the council. But it was later when I spoke to father with Chancellor Yi and Keeper Martin that I...” His voice trailed off.
Adrina grabbed his hand. “And?”
The look in Valam’s eyes silenced her. He turned about on his heel quickly, catlike. He was much faster than his size suggested he could be, as if he could defy the laws of nature—perhaps he was learning as much from Seth as Seth was learning from him.
He raced across the room to the window beside Adrina’s bed, threw back the drapes. Adrina started to scream, “Stop, stop!” but it was too late. Valam grabbed the girl hiding behind the curtain and the next moment she was flying through the air, landing with a dull thud on Adrina’s bed.
“It’s Myrial, Valam,” Adrina screamed. “Myrial.”
“I know who it is,” Valam said through clenched teeth. “King Jarom’s spies are everywhere, don’t you know that? And it’s just a little too much, okay?”
Valam’s arm was raised, his fist poised ready to strike as if his fingers were a cobra’s fangs. Adrina grabbed his arm with both hands, begged him not to hit Myrial. She grabbed his waist and hugged him then. “Don’t, don’t,” she whispered. “Myrial would never betray our family.”
“Everyone is suspect,” Valam said.
Myrial crawled backward across the bed, straightened her dress. She didn’t look at Valam. Her eyes were on Adrina. “I don’t know what happened after I left,” she said, “but I assure you that I’ve never done anything to harm you, Adrina. And I would never do anything to harm anyone in your family. You’ve got to believe me.”
Adrina helped Myrial stand, saying, “I believe you, I do.” She paused for a moment, hugged Myrial. “It has been a very trying day. We’re all a little frayed on the edges. Isn’t that right, Valam?”
Valam glared, started to leave.
Adrina ran after him. “If there was ever a time, ever a time for friends, it is now. You can’t turn away. Not now, not ever. Don’t you see?”
The weight of the day was on Valam’s shoulders as he turned back to Adrina. “You don’t understand. I trusted her. She betrayed me.”
Adrina furrowed her brow, crinkled her nose as she did sometimes when confused or upset. “We aren’t talking about Myrial, are we?”
Valam shook his head. “We’re not.”
“Who then?”
Valam didn’t say anything, Myrial did. “Soshi,” she said.
“Soshi?” Adrina asked.
Valam turned to Myrial. “Do you know everything that goes on?”
“No,” Myrial admitted. “But I do make it a point to know certain things.” She added after a moment of silence, “Your secrets are safe with me. I would never reveal them to anyone.”
“Words,” Valam said, the anger growing in his voice. “Easy enough to say. Actions reveal truths.”
“Enough,” snapped Adrina. “You have my word, Valam. Myrial can be trusted. What more do you want?”
“Proof,” Valam whispered.
“What would it take?” Myrial shot back.
“You take such familiar tone with my family. Have you no respect?”
Myrial’s eyes told Adrina not to come to her defense. “What would you have me do?”
“Actions speak louder than words. Prove to me that I shouldn’t run you through.” Valam pulled a long dagger from a sheath at his side. Adrina saw this, tried to grab his arm. “Stay out of this, Adrina. King Jarom’s spies are everywhere, and this one is a little too clever for her own good.”
Myrial went to the window, jumped up to the wide ledge at its base. “If it is your wish, I will jump. Do you wish it? Would that be proof enough?”
Adrina felt like she was experiencing déjà vu. In her mind she saw herself standing on the ledge. She started screaming but Valam and Myrial weren’t listening to her.
Valam provoked Myrial. “It would—it would prove beyond doubt that you were King’s Jarom’s agent. Bought and paid for with the blood of many. Anyone with a bit of mettle would put an end to it after they’ve been exposed. That haughty Baron of Eragol will surely be found that way by morning, one way or the other, so go on, join him.”
Myrial surprised Adrina. She jumped at Valam, grabbing the blade he held out in both hands. The sharp blade sliced into her palms. Her blood ran pure and crimson down the blade, bathing Valam’s hands.
Myrial looked into Valam’s eyes, unwavering, unflinching while she held the blade. “The blood of one,” she said. “The only way it will ever be.”
“Are you satisfied now?” Adrina shouted. She tried to pull Myrial away from Valam but Myrial wouldn’t relinquish her grip on the blade.
Valam dropped the dagger, stared in dismay at the blood on his hands. “It is in dark times such as these that one must know who they can truly trust. The only way to know for sure is to test. Do you understand?”
“I do,” Myrial admitted, her eyes fixed on the prince.
“You’ve earned my trust, Myrial. I can only hope that I still have your respect as well.”
Myrial nodded, broke into tears as pain overcame her nerve. Her knees buckled. Valam was there to catch her as he had been there for Adrina. Forgetting that he had secured the door he called to the guards. They came at the call, broke down the door before Adrina had a chance to unlock it.
“A priest, find a priest,” Valam told one of the guards.
“Seth,” Adrina said, “Seth is closest. He can heal Myrial. His kind have the gift.”
Adrina ran back to her dressing mirror, pulled a cloth from the table top, used it to wrap Myrial’s hands. She led Valam through the palace as he carried Myrial. Soon they found themselves at the door to Seth’s chambers.
Adrina knocked, prayed there would be an answer, and there was. Seth answered the door. Candles spread on the floor said he had been meditating.
Seeing the girl and the blood-soaked cloth, Seth acted without hesitation. He reached back and, with a touch of his will, extinguished the candles spread out on the floor, then prepared to do what must be done.
“Place her on the floor, there.” He pointed. He spoke aloud so as not to upset anyone. Myrial’s face was pale from blood loss and he was suddenly worried for her.
“How did this happen?” he asked as he studied the wounds. Adrina looked to Valam, Valam to Adrina. “No need to explain then,” Seth continued, “I’ve heard the alarms. I know something is afoot though no one has told me what.”
What he didn’t say is that he had ventured to the winds. He had seen the chaos from on high: the guards sealing the palace, the city watch closing the gates, the soldiers searching house to house.
Reading their emotions he could sense that something terrible had happened these past few hours. He wondered if they knew what had gone on beyond the palace walls: the fires, the looting, the arrests. He doubted that they knew of these things. These weren’t things kings and princes spoke of proudly, and probably not even in quiet whispers.
Myrial’s moans of pain told him to hurry. He closed his eyes, drew the will of the land within. As he cleared his thoughts, he reached out, took Myrial’s hands in his.
A soft white glow, a simple, pure radiance, spread from his palms to Myrial hands. He whispered words, ancient words, concentrated as he took Myrial’s pain away. Myrial slipped from consciousness. He began the healing chant. The strength of his will was at once reflected in the light that bathed the room and swept it of shadows.
He smiled when he finished and sighed. My task is done, he whispered to their minds. She will sleep.
Chapter Ten:
Hidden Doorways
Something fought to free itself from within his mind, but as it was not able to or not allowed to, it levied pain. Pain that wrenched its way through his body, twisting away at his innards and his soul. His vision grew dim. He fell to the ground at the foot of the tower.
Thoughts filled his mind like a dream, reality bound by dreams. It was a strange and frightening dream. He dreamed of the boy he had once been. He dreamed of home, of his father and mother. He tried to force the thoughts away.
“Vilmos, control!” a friendly voice said to him.
He fought the pain, tried to listen to the voice. “I am me!” He cried out between clenched teeth, “I am in control!”
The pain grew. It was in brief moments of consciousness that the voice spoke to him, telling him to find control, to find a way beyond the pain. “The pain is their leash. Break the leash, become free.”
Other voices cried out. He gulped for air as if he had just returned from the dead. White-hot pain followed. It felt as if he were being burned alive. He wanted to tear off his skin to be rid of the pain. But he wouldn’t allow the pain to sweep him away again. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live.
His struggle was brief. Darkness enveloped his thoughts. The voices cried out telling him to come back to endure the test, yet he would not.
“Xith!” he cried out.
“I am here,” came the answer from beyond the darkness.
“Is it night already?” Vilmos asked as he sat up and looked at the night sky.
“If you say it is, it is.”
Vilmos started to reply. Xith cut him off. “We haven’t much time, Vilmos. We must hurry. Your struggle is not over. The real fight has only begun.”
“Struggle? Fight?”
“You have learned to get around their controls. They must never learn this. If they do, they will ensure you fail this test.”
“What if I fail?”
“If you fail, we won’t be able to let you live in this place. We will be forced to kill you here, once and for all eternity.”
“We?” Vilmos asked, “Kill me?”
“It would be necessary to try.”
“Try?”
“Silence, listen. Our time is growing short. I have things of great import to explain, things you must accept.” Xith moved out of the darkness. He sat on the ground beside Vilmos and stared into his eyes. Another approached out of the darkness but did not move fully from the shadows.
“Who is that?”
“All in good time,” Xith said, quickly re-directing Vilmos’ attention. “This is a dangerous business, this thing between you and I. Do you understand?”
Vilmos nodded.
“I knew what you were and yet I helped you into the world. Kept you safe. Have I made the right decision?”
Vilmos didn’t respond.
“Don’t struggle with the truth. You know. A part of you has known ever since I first came to you.”
“What have you let me become? What gave you the right to let this thing come to pass?”
“Even if I had wanted to I couldn’t have done what needed to be done until I was sure, so I waited and watched. When the time came near I felt the presence. It was then that I left. I watched you in the shadows of your thoughts, offering guidance as I could.
“If you refused my guidance I knew I would then have to do what must be done. The magic in you is great but your past does not have to be your future. Control it, without letting it control you. At times it will be difficult. You will feel it. This is when you must seize the moment. Focus. You are the key to the wild magic.
“The wild magic of the beginning when all was chaos. In life or death all things have a beginning and an ending. When one era comes to an end, a new one starts. It is an endless cycle. In the end all things revert back to the beginning. Out of the chaos comes order, but only at the very end, and at a cost that cannot be known.
“Long have I troubled over my decision. The great burden I have placed on everything and everyone you will ever touch. It may have been pity for a child that spared you. That pity may also be what changes the course of the path.”
Vilmos waved his arms, a caged bird trying to fly. “You talk as if you are leaving.”
