Rune Destiny (Runebound Book 2) Read online

  Tethana never looked at Remus. The task demanded her entire focus. When she was satisfied with the position of the runes, she fished a leather thong out of the front of her shirt. Tied on the end of the thong was a beautiful stone that caught the firelight, its luster the dark green of the deep forest.

  With a muttered incantation that Remus did not understand, Tethana passed the stone over the rune charms: once, twice, and then a third time, always from the left to the right. On the fourth pass, the stone flared into life, bathing the small hut in an unearthly green light.

  Fascinated, Remus could not tear his eyes away. To his astonishment, his body responded. He slammed his back down on the cot as every muscle in his body clenched and went rigid. He could feel the healing forces deep inside his being accelerate to an impossible pace. His breathing quickened. It felt like his injured leg was trying to tear itself away. Severed muscle bunched and knotted, closing the gash. Remus felt like all of his life force was being sucked to the site of the wound. After what seemed like an eternity, his body relaxed and he was able to sit up.

  Tethana rocked back on her heels, her work done. She watched, just as engrossed as Remus. His body had repaired the major damage, and now the skin was slowly creeping back together across the exposed muscle. Remus stared in amazement as before his very eyes what had been a killing wound disappeared under smooth, perfectly healthy flesh.

  He looked up, making eye contact with Tethana. “Wh-what was that?” he said, his voice full of wonder.

  “That was the secret power of the Volgoth,” Tethana said as she gathered up the rune charms and put them back in the pouch. “It is passed down through the line of generations. I inherited my stone from my mother, as my unborn daughter someday will from me.”

  “But those were runes. You have a runestone!”

  Her eyes went hard. “Is that what you call it? We have other words. Whatever you think you saw, you observed with tainted eyes. You’re blind to the truth.”

  “What truth am I blind to? Tell me.”

  Remus saw indecision flicker across Tethana’s face. He knew she was drawn to him, and here, alone in the hut, he sensed that she had lowered her defenses in the face of his weakness. She had just saved his life, and now they shared a bond. It was a heady, unfamiliar emotion for Remus, and he felt a strong urge to say something foolish. But he held his tongue, too curious about what he had just witnessed.

  She was not going to tell him. He could see it in her eyes.

  “I can help you,” he said. “I can help your people. Keep your secrets if you must. Perhaps someday I’ll earn your trust.”

  A tentative smile formed on Tethana’s lips. Remus tried not to squirm under her softening gaze.

  “This power is older than you know,” she finally said. “Our legends say that the stones are ancient. When the gods shattered the fundament during creation, they gave to the Volgoth, their chosen people, mighty gems of power taken from the heart of the world. These gems were called ‘vessel stones.’ The stones are the vessels by which the gods grant us their power.”

  “Surely you don’t believe in such fables. The Drathani have runestones, and the Alkomian Empire is full of them.”

  Tethana held her emerald stone over the fire so that Remus could see through it. “There’s no rune in this stone.”

  That silenced Remus. The multifaceted gem she held was transparent—and runeless.

  “How can that be?” Remus said. “When you activate the stone, does it use the runes on your charms?”

  “I told you you didn’t understand,” Tethana said. “I don’t power the stone. No Volgoth can. The power comes from inside it.”

  Too perplexed to respond, Remus dropped back down onto the cot. Suddenly, he felt very weak. He was completely drained, and his strength was failing.

  “You’ve lost too much blood,” Tethana said. “You need to rest. Let me fetch you some food.”

  “Wait,” Remus said. “Please. Not yet. If that’s not a runestone, then what is it?” He sensed that Tethana was holding back something important. He had no idea when he would again be able to speak to her in private.

  Tethana frowned, but answered his question. “The runestones you know are copies of vessel stones, crude imitations only. The Drathani stole the sacred vessel stones from my people and tried to bend the power of the gods to their own will. They created their runestones, and it was the source of their downfall. Their greed and ambition has corrupted them, and they have used the power of the stones to recreate themselves many times over. They have become something twisted and unnatural, losing themselves in a power they don’t understand.

  Tethana’s grip tightened around the stone in her hand. “Very few of the vessel stones remain in the possession of my people. As a shaman, it’s my duty to safeguard my vessel, ensuring it’s only ever used to heal and aid. The Volgoth must not follow the Drathani down the path of darkness.”

  Remus closed his eyes. Soon, he heard Tethana rise and leave the hut, no doubt going to fetch food. While she talked, he had heard the unmistakable fervor of belief in her voice. She believed everything she told him was true, but how much of it could he trust? The Volgoth were a superstitious people, bound by their myths and folklore. One thing was certain: the stone she carried was no mere runestone. But as he let weariness claim him, dragging him to unconsciousness, it was Tethana he dreamed of, and not the stone.

  ——

  Remus did not know how long he laid in the hut. Sometimes he would wake and find Tethana at his side. He would pretend to be asleep while she washed his face with a damp cloth. Other times he found only a bowl of warm broth. Once, when he opened his eyes, he found Pikon standing at the foot of his bed watching him sleep.

  “That’s damned disturbing,” Remus said. “How long have you been there?”

  “Not long,” Pikon said. “I came to check on your recovery.”

  “I’m beginning to feel like I might live. Where are we? What happened after I fell in the forest?”

  “We’re on the outskirts of Delgrath. After you were struck down, we caught up with your men and fought our way out of the runebound horde. Cut off from their master, the thralls were disorganized and confused. Only their extreme numbers made them dangerous. We won free, but you were gravely wounded.

  “Based on the amount of blood you lost, your man Ellion insisted you would not survive the night. Promost Lister said that the Volgoth could save you. It meant abandoning our plan of escaping into the empire, but it was decided to try and save your life. Your men refused to leave you to die.”

  “And the runebound?”

  “For the time being, it seems your gamble was a success. We’ve seen no sign of the runebound since leaving the forest. The Volgoth are hailing you as a champion.”

  “But not Goregash.”

  “For once, Goregash has seen the wisdom in allowing the people to honor you. He acknowledged your heroics and gave Tethana permission to tend to you. The chieftain's hold over his people is weakening, and he is astute enough to realize this. What this means for the future, I don’t know.”

  “Where’s Pricker?”

  Pikon pursed his lips. “He stands watch outside the door. He hasn’t left the hut since you were placed here. No one can convince him to move. His presence is why we’re on the outskirts of the city. Goregash has ignored him thus far.”

  Before Remus could say more, the leather flap over the door was pushed aside and Grotius and Ellion entered the hut.

  “You’re awake,” Grotius said. “I heard you were doing better.”

  Pikon seemed annoyed by the interruption and excused himself. “We’ll talk again when you’re on your feet,” he said as he left.

  “That blighter’s not happy with us,” Grotius said. With a devious grin, he pulled an item from behind his back. Wrapped in leather was the control gauntlet Remus had cut from the overseer’s body. “The gray-skins wanted this for their own. Said it was too dangerous, and that the Volgoth couldn�
�t see it. I told them that if they wanted their own shiny piece of loot, they could go damn well take it from the enemy. We won this, and you almost died for it.”

  “Good man,” Remus said. “You can leave it with me.”

  Grotius placed the leather bundle on the small table next to Remus’s cot.

  “The men are enjoying themselves,” Grotius said. “With Goregash’s acknowledgement of our victory, the people have embraced us with open arms.” He winked at Remus. “And open legs. In nine months time, we might have our very first brood of crossbreed runts.”

  Ellion coughed. “A few of the men have found barbarian women willing to spread their thighs, but most of us have better sense than that.”

  “Better sense?” Grotius scoffed. “Let them have their fun! It’s not every day some poor Legion grunt gets treated like a noble warrior.”

  “Aye, better sense,” Ellion said. “Don’t tell me you're blind to the looks we get from Goregash and his warriors. Mingling with their women crosses a line that any tribe or nation can understand. I won’t be surprised if we find those fools dead in a hole.”

  “Remus’s she-wolf hardly leaves his side,” Grotius said. “And she’s the chieftain's niece. You worry too much.”

  “What happened in the forest?” Remus asked. “My memory of the battle is clouded, but I remember a strange...man-shaped tree.”

  “So I’m not the only one that saw him,” Grotius said with a snort. “He’s real, and he’s half-crazy, but he pulled our arses out of the fire. His name’s Monsturian, and he claims to be a guardian of the forest. He’s the biggest bastard I’ve ever seen, bigger than even Goregash, and he wears a damned tree for armor.”

  “And he’s got a cat,” Ellion said.

  “Right, the cat,” Grotius said. “Big, feral thing, straight out of the deep woods. It follows him around like it knows him—craziest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Where is he now?” Remus said. “I’d like to meet him.”

  “He followed us into the city, but his arrival caused a commotion,” Grotius said. “Apparently he’s something of a legend to the Volgoth. He got spirited away by a crowd and we’ve not seen him since.”

  “Come,” Ellion said. “We should leave him to his rest. We’ll be in the city when you’re ready to rejoin the squad.”

  Remus waved a weak hand at them as they left the room. He laid on the cot, thinking about what they said. He had hungered for Goregash’s praise since taking over the squad. He hated the barbarian leader, but he wanted the man’s respect. For the chieftain to openly acknowledge his men was more than he could have ever hoped for. But now that it had happened, it seemed a small and hollow thing. He tried to understand why. Perhaps it was because he was bedridden and missing the revelry, but he sensed something more subtle than that. He had won. For Goregash to notice him and his men was an admission of weakness. Remus’s will had proved the stronger, and now that he had bested the Volgoth leader, it was time to forget the man and move on to the next challenge.

  Restless, Remus swung his legs over the edge of the cot and tested his strength. He found that he could stand, although the effort made his head spin. He hobbled to the little table, drawn by the leather bundle Grotius had left. With a sweep of his hand, he snatched the covering from the gauntlet. He stared in awe as the golden armor shined in the firelight. Unnoticed, the leather wrappings slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor.

  The gauntlet was a thing of incomparable beauty. Its dark golden metal was unknown to him. Usually such color was only possible with soft metals and used on ceremonial pieces. Intricate designs were inscribed along its length, strange symbols and ancient letters that wound from fingertip to elbow. The overlapping metal plates started at the wrist and and climbed up the forearm to be anchored on the bicep. He could tell without even touching it that it was the work of a master armorsmith.

  But what drew his eye was the stone. Embedded on the back of the armor that covered the hand was a transparent, multifaceted ruby. As he leaned closer, shock surged through him. There was no rune symbol at the center of the stone.

  Does that mean this is a vessel stone? Could Tethana have spoken true?

  Goosebumps shivered up and down Remus’s arms. At the very least, it looked like the same sort of stone she had used to heal him. No wonder the Ethari wanted to keep the gauntlet away from the Volgoth.

  Remus picked up the armor, surprised by how little it weighed. Someone had removed the severed limb from inside. Unable to resist, he slid his left arm into the gauntlet, testing the fit. Bulky as he was compared to the slender Drathani, it should have been too small, but the overlapping metal plates shifted and the armor expanded to match his size. It slid effortlessly up his arm to clasp around his bicep.

  He looked at his palm, opening and closing his fingers. The gauntlet fit him like a second skin. On closer inspection, he discovered that rune symbols were carved on the underside of each finger. There were at least four runes on each digit. He turned his hand over and inspected the stone. Blood red and glowing with a strange inner light, the gem seemed to have a swirling storm captured within. Where it had been transparent before, its surface was now clouded over. As he watched, the tempest within the stone dissipated, and left in its wake were what looked like pricks of fire suspended in glass. Stars, he realized. Now crystal clear, the stone looked like it was filled with stars.

  When the stone cleared, strange sensations started to creep over him. His mind quieted. Thoughts could be called and dismissed at will; he longer struggled for mastery of his own understanding. He was in complete control, able to remember any image or idea, no matter how complicated or how old the memory. But it was more than just ease of recall. Remus could see connections between ideas where before they were hidden. He sensed that there was nothing too complicated for him to tackle with this newfound ability. While he explored his growing mental capacity, the aches of his body faded to nothing. With a start, he realized he felt great. He was still weak, but nothing that a good meal would not fix.

  This is what these stones are capable of? No wonder the Drathani want to possess them. They’re wasted in a shaman’s leather pouch.

  Inadvertently, one of his fingers touched his palm. The stone on the gauntlet flared into life, the brilliant red flash leaving afterimages in his eyes.

  It was the rune. It reacted to the rune on the finger.

  The cause was obvious. Just like Tethana’s rune charms, the stone would react to the runes on the hand of the gauntlet. If he manipulated his fingers, he could form complex commands with the few runes inscribed on the armored digits. He was willing to bet he would find the same runes inscribed on the circlets he had recovered from the thralls.

  Remus was roused from his fascination by shouting from outside. Feeling strong enough to walk now, he stepped to the door and exited the hut. He had to shield his eyes from the sun, but he could see a hundred other crude dwellings spread out before him. Pricker stood watch next to the door. The thin Drathani’s eyes flicked to the gauntlet and then to Remus’s face. It was the first time Remus had ever seen Pricker surprised. The sounds of screaming drew his eyes. Several hundred feet away, a shirtless giant of a man was tearing through the Volgoth villagers who stood in his way.

  What the hells? Has he gone crazy?

  Volgoth warriors and Ethari guards came running, weapons drawn. Remus watched, jaw sagging, as the attacker tore them to shreds with his axes. Nothing could stop the man. He left a trail of bodies behind him, and he was coming straight at Remus.

  When he finally got a clear look at the man, Remus instinctively reached over his shoulder for his axe. His hand grabbed empty air. Angry red runes throbbed on a control circlet around the man’s bald scalp. Something about the enraged brute seemed familiar, and with his newfound mental clarity, Remus made the connection immediately. The man’s head was shaved clean, his body covered with terrible scars, and his face twisted with inhuman rage, but there was no doubt it was Brax.
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  Brax made eye contact with Remus and roared. Two more Ethari tried to stop him, but Brax spun between them, slashing with his twin axes. His blades burned with purple rune fire, shearing through armor and consuming the flesh beneath.

  Without thinking, Remus clenched his gauntleted fist. The stone on the back of his hand flashed, and the runes on Brax’s circlet answered by briefly shining brighter. Brax stumbled. At the same time, Goregash lunged into view, aiming to intercept Brax. Stunned by the chieftain's appearance, Remus hesitated.

  Goregash charged Brax, bellowing a Volgoth war cry. Brax met the attack head-on, and at the last instant the scars on his skin flared into life.

  Those are runes!

  Just as the runes carved into his flesh became visible, Brax disappeared in a blur of motion. He swept past Goregash, the only sign of his passing a spray of blood. Goregash staggered, clutching his midsection. A grievous slash split the chieftain's stomach. The chieftain fell to his knees, blood pouring from the wound. Only his huge hands kept his guts from spilling out.

  Pricker made no move to intervene. Remus knew he was next. With no other options, he twisted his armored fingers, passing command after command through the vessel stone. His instructions came so fast that it pulsed rapidly, never going dark. Brax came to a stumbling halt ten feet from Remus. The runes on his control circlet were a riot of color. Whoever was controlling Brax, Remus was interfering with the connection.

  Brax lurched forward, straining to put one foot in front of the next. He moved as if he had anvils tied to his legs. Remus raised his gauntleted fist, his fingers frantically twisting into different positions as he tried to find the command that would halt Brax’s advance.

  Behind Brax, Tethana ran to Goregash’s side. Remus saw her open her leather pouch and prepare to use her vessel stone to heal him right there in the dirt.

  Remus was screaming now, answering Brax’s cry of rage. Brax’s huge muscles bunched and knotted as he tried to swing an axe at Remus. On his skin, hideous rune-shaped scars flickered, unable to stay active long enough to empower Brax.