Siege of Night (10 page)

After strapping her inverted leather sheaths to her back, she headed through the door. Down the stone hall she stalked, always on the balls of her feet. Her fully trained body permanently remained ready for combat even if her mind was a thousand miles from it. However, she walked a bit faster than usual. Something tugging at her thoughts spurred her on. Even though she had already reasoned out the clear stupidity for this meaningless visit, she needed proof for some reason.

The hall flowed into cross choices of right and left. She nearly began running as she broke left past the stone statue of a fallen warrior. When she approached the gray wooden door with two white stand lamps on each side and one black oil lamp lit just above, she turned the knob and drove her shoulder hard into the door, making quite an entrance to a startled Corzon. He quickly raised his head from his dark-stained wooden desk, a freshly dipped feather still in his hand as it dribbled a single drop back into the bottle.

“What is it that you need?” she blurted out impatiently while glancing around the den she had seen many times before. Ten books leaned in various lopsided directions, slanting this way and that as they leveraged against each other in the old gray wooden bookcase built for fifty. The stuffed black bear in the corner that used to frighten her as a child remained fixed in its eternally frozen pose, standing up on its hind legs like it was about to attack.

He placed the feather back into the inkbottle in an unusually careful fashion, like a person who was trying to stall but was completely out of ideas as to how to extend the matter. He scooted his chair back from the desk and stood up, clearly having great difficulty looking Athel in the eye. “Come, walk with me,” he said in a soft, almost caring voice.

She was now sure this had to be serious as he continued with his odd mannerisms. “What...what is going on? Tell me right now!” He simply dipped his shoulder sideways and scooted past her out into the hall. She followed quickly. Walking right next to him like a shadow, she constantly turned to him, glaring, analyzing, wanting him to say something, but he didn’t. They marched together as one in silence until they found themselves out in the street.

“Are you going to tell what is going on or not?” she barked as her beads rattled around angrily.

In a strangely calm voice, he replied, “You know, I remember your mother.” Her nose crinkled up in confusion. Sure, he had told her stories of her mother before. In fact, he had blamed Athel many times over the years for the passing of his beloved wife, Marlin
. “I wish the two of you would have switched places,”
he told her on several occasions, with not a care in the world of how his stinging words bore into her heart. Marlin had died shortly after giving birth to Athel, and Corzon never seemed to be at peace with that heartbreaking reality.

“What does she have to do with anything right now?” Athel asked, wondering if he was about to blame her for the death of his wife once again. Part of her tensed a bit for the possible backhand. He never seemed to need much of a reason to deliver one.

His expression didn’t change at all. He just kept walking, his eyes glazed over like he was somewhere else all of a sudden. “When I first attained my position of rank, I was young and insecure; ignorant of the ways of the world. What if the people don’t respect my authority? What if they rebel against me? What if—”

He stared off in the distance as his eyes went out of focus. Then he finally looked back down at Athel with an odd smile on his face, like he was reliving a childhood memory or something. “What if they can tell I’m afraid?”

“I...I don’t understand. What does any of this—”

“You see, your mother, Marlin, was my rock. My source of strength, if you will.” He flashed another creepy smile at Athel that made her shiver. She remained completely silent, having no idea what was going on here.
Has my father gone mad
?

They seemed to be heading in the general direction of the arena. Athel had been so caught up in the bizarre conversation, she had hardly been aware of her surroundings...until now. The streets were nearly abandoned. All the shops were closed down and there wasn’t a single person in sight. “Where is everybody?” she shrieked, feeling stupid she hadn’t noticed this until now.

He made a ticking sound with his tongue as he nudged his head to the side, much the same way someone might call a dog, before marching on at a brisk pace. She hurried to catch up, feeling very small all of sudden. It seemed the whole city was in on some big secret, but yet she had somehow been kept in the dark.

When they arrived at the arena, Corzon didn’t enter the lower gate, but instead began climbing the steps leading to the upper level. Athel lagged behind with her head held low, feeling very confused and now even a bit frightened.

“You see, I always had your mother to depend on during moments of weakness,” he said out of nowhere as they continued to climb. “She gave me strength when I needed it most. When I was sad or depressed, she could always snap me out of it with nothing more than a few words and a flash of her beautiful smile. But she’s gone now, Athel, gone, and I’ll never ever see my source of inspiration again.”

He stopped and turned toward her one last time when there were only a few steps left. “The enemy is at our doorstep, and I can’t show weakness,” he said, almost looking sad now.

“What enemy? What bloody enemy? What are you talking about?” she screamed in frustration, almost in tears.

“You see Athel,
you
can never replace that great woman who was stolen from me. One of the last things she ever told me was, ‘
Don’t ever be afraid of greatness. Take what is rightfully yours, and crush any and all who stand in your way
.’”

With that, he climbed the remaining few steps to look out over the arena. Athel had to force herself to finish the climb. There could be no doubt she didn’t want to see this, but her worst nightmares could
never
have prepared her for this. The surreal scene turned her blood to ice.

All of Dronin’s army was spread into squared formations across the frozen sand. Thousands of men armed and ready stood at attention in absolute silence while holding one hand across their chests. Even the combat slaves were standing at attention, in their own lined formation off to the left of everyone else. She could see her good friends Timith and Hasur standing with them, faces cold and focused on nothing.

The Steel Maidens stood in a long line at the front of the army, each covered in full black leather armor. They were easily as beautiful as they were deadly. Sexuality was as great a weapon as any, and they had been trained to use every tool at their disposal.

Corzon walked up to the edge of the banister. His booming voice was loud and true as he stretched his arms into the air. “The witch of Taron has used her lies and deceit to trick her people into turning against us. She is mad with power and must be stopped before it is too late!”

Weapons waved in the air as battle shouts filled the arena. He made one last sweeping gaze over his massive army before drawing his long-sword and holding it high. “TO WAAAAAR!” he screamed at the top of his lungs while bloodthirsty battle cries seemed to shake the stone walls.

Even as he turned away, the cries of war never relented. He walked over to Athel, whose legs had already betrayed her as she crumpled to the ground. There she sat on the stone floor, rocking back and forth, eyes leaking like a waterfall while her hands remained clasped tightly over her ears. He leaned down to his pathetic daughter and whispered, “Your sickening weakness is why you will never be a leader.” He walked away, leaving his only daughter alone, afraid...and filled with horror.

* * *

Addel continued to rummage through Berkeni’s things like a child who had just been given a new stack of toys. She pulled each little jar from the shelves one at a time, excitedly naming the creature inside before putting it back, only to immediately grab another and repeat the game. In some cases she began spouting out the origin of the creature as well.

“I see you find amusement within my set of private things,” he said in a playful taunt. “Go on then. You might as well familiarize yourself with our
tools
of knowledge if you are to be my assistant.

“What is it like?” she asked suddenly, glancing over her shoulder at him while placing another jar back in its place.

“What do you mean? What is what like?”

“Well...I mean...living here, in the castle. The patient acceptance you’ve received.” She lowered her head with a sad look. “People like you and I...well, our dark gifts have never been accepted by others. I still regret the burden I placed on my parents. Sure, they were cruel to me. They locked me up where I couldn’t be found by anyone.” She let out a long sigh. “But was that not love in some strange way? It would have been so much easier for them to just abandon me, but chose not to at the cost of their own happiness.”

“No... No, I don’t, Addel,” he said softly as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Duty, perhaps. Maybe even the byproduct of guilt. But I don’t see locking up a little girl away from the sun, her family and friends as any form of love.” He gave her a little shake then turned away as he busied himself with his trinkets once more. “You asked me what it is like. Well, I’ll tell you.” He flashed her a warm smile. “Love,” was all he said at first. She returned the smile with a small one of her own. “The Queen has fully accepted me as well as my gifts.” He turned fully around and placed a hand on her shoulder once more. “And don’t you ever forget, Addel...they
are
gifts.

He slowly turned back to his set of toys. “Queen Ilirra is the strongest, most caring woman I have ever met. She loves her kingdom, the city, me...
you
.” He paused a moment to reflect on his own words. “I know in my heart that I would die for her if called upon,” he said, now staring right at Addel, his voice gaining intensity with every word. “If you can bury the hate of your past, forgive yourself as others already have, and not be afraid to commit all your efforts to a cause greater than any we have known in our lifetimes...” She looked as though she would burst into tears. He cupped her face in his hands as her lower lip quivered with swelling emotion. “Then I promise you...you will know real love as well. Now then,” he gave her a light pat on the cheek. “For our first order of business, I have made a promise to a dear old friend, and I intend to keep it.” He pulled up a chair in front of the shiny pearl on top of his table. “This won’t be but a moment,” he said while wiggling his thin, gnarled fingers over the tiny white globe.

It wasn’t as though Addel hadn’t seen this or done this hundreds of times before. Scrying really wasn’t all that difficult, especially if you had a location in mind and weren’t forced to search blindly. Being fairly sure she wasn’t going to learn anything new here, she simply wandered around the room, thinking upon the wise man’s words.

Addel couldn’t remember the last time she felt love. The emotion almost seemed foreign to her. But she had been given no reason to doubt Berkeni’s words. It was clear everyone here was working together toward a common goal, with no clear incentive or benefit to any one individual.

To think, her gifts would be viewed as an asset and not something to hide or be ashamed of. She would put forth her best efforts to aid in a cause that was right and just, and not purely because the penalty for failure was certain death. Had she really found a home? A purpose in life? Just the thought of it made her—

“By the gods!”

Addel snapped out of her daydream and ran over to Berkeni. “What? What’s wrong?” she said while using the minimal power needed to re-conjure the image he had just let slip away. Within a few seconds she was peering into the globe as the distorted images begin to reshape once more. Her blood cooled. Speechless, she turned to Berkeni, whose eyes bulged and mouth hung wide open. The always serene, unflappable man could hardly spit out the words. “We...we m-must... We must find the Queen!”

Chapter 7

Morcel groaned as his broken body attempted to lift itself from the deep, soft bed. Layers of white sheets topped by a thick red blanket with green fringe had kept him prisoner long enough. He found the simple act of moving at all to be excruciating, as the combination of tender skin recently stitched and stiff limbs that hadn’t moved in days sent fire through his huge body. He couldn’t even handle the sudden movement involved with throwing the covers back, instead opting to roll them inch by inch, using no more than the subtle movement of his wrist.
I’m useless lying here...I need to get up from this prison
.

Just swinging his legs over the side of the bed appeared to be no option at all. He opted instead to push one massive leg with his hands toward the edge then blew out a sharp breath as it thumped to the floor. The vibration rattling through him was a reminder of where every single wound was located.
Well...one more to go
. As his last leg thumped to the floor he winced hard again, but the fact that he was now sitting up on the side of the bed was a victory in itself.

He inhaled deeply while looking around the room that had housed him for days. A hand-carved, solid oak dresser with a dark, rich stain stood in the corner. An extra-large wooden washbowl with flower-scented water and tiny rose petals floating about lay on its base. The flowery scent in the air was strong enough to determine the water was fresh and must have been filled recently. A large, oval, standing mirror with ornate golden patterns swirling around the glass stood on a silver three-pronged stand right next to the thick wooden door. He carefully leaned to the side to get a good look at his reflection.