Rune Destiny (Runebound Book 2) Page 23

  “Well, that’s just wonderful,” Remus said. “Why do I attract all the crazy ones?”

  “He’s not crazy,” Tethana said “Just different. He is what he is by the will of the gods.”

  “He’s not the only one that thinks I’m some sort of hero. You saw how the villagers knelt when I passed by.”

  “I did. We are a superstitious people, and what you did was both terrifying and awesome. Please don’t think too little of people who need something to believe in.”

  “It’s not the believing part I’m worried about. Goregash didn’t seem to keen on my newfound hero status.”

  Tethana frowned. “You’re right. He’s not at all happy about it, but he doesn’t have much choice in the matter. You’ve proven yourself a savior of the Volgoth many times over now. He can no longer publicly denounce you. The people won’t have it.”

  “But he’s still chieftain,” Remus said. “How far will the people follow him, and for how long?”

  “The Volgoth are not like your empire,” Tethana said. “We do not defy our leaders. The people will refuse to obey a command that offends the gods, but they will never rebel against the chieftain. It’s the duty of our shamans to ensure the will of the gods and the desires of the chieftain are the same. As long as Goregash heeds Ursteth’s counsel, the people will follow him.”

  “She has no love for you, that much is clear. Will she steer Goregash away from cooperation?”

  “Ursteth is paranoid that I want to take her spot as Goregash’s counselor. The chieftain’s personal shaman enjoys a certain privilege and respect. She thinks it’s unfair that I’m his niece. Because of our family ties, he’s obligated to put me in her place sooner or later. She has opposed me at every turn since I became a shaman. I’ve no doubt she corrupts Goregash against you simply because of our friendship.”

  “She sounds like a nice lady,” Remus said, his sarcasm making Tethana laugh. He pointed to the right. “There’s Ellion and the squad.”

  Remus and Tethana jogged over to where the men squatted in the dirt. The soldiers kept themselves separate from the crowd. Every face was somber—no one spoke.

  Ellion saw Remus and Tethana approaching and stepped out to meet them.

  “We’ve called a halt for four hours,” Remus said. He looked at the squad. “Is this all that made it? I count only half our number.”

  “Aye,” Ellion said. The man looked like he had aged a decade in the past twenty-four hours. “That Rune Guard bastard, the one that killed Grotius, stalked us the entire battle. He picked us off, one by one, until we finally quit the field. We couldn’t stop him. By the burning fires of all the hells, we couldn’t even see him.”

  “They couldn’t get to me, so they made the rest of you suffer. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s war. Don’t apologize. But we can’t fight against that sort of power. We were slaughtered, and with Grotius fallen, I don’t think the men will take up arms again.”

  Remus hung his head. “I let my guard down, and Grotius died for it.”

  “No lad,” Ellion said, his voice firm. “He didn’t die because of you, he died for you. Don’t diminish his sacrifice by thinking it a mistake you made. He gave his life because he put himself in harm’s way, and he did so because he believed in you.”

  “Before he died, I told him that I’d try to be the man he wanted me to be.”

  Ellion’s eyes glistened. “That’s all he would have wanted. He saw something in you. He would tell me, ‘Ellion, if that boy can get over himself, he’ll be a commander of men someday.’ ”

  Remus did not reply. They stood there in silence, remembering Grotius. He had been a grizzled, foul-mouthed, hardheaded Legion sergeant, and the best soldier Remus had ever known.

  Finally, Remus looked up. “What will you do now?”

  “We’ll travel with you to Umgragon, but no further,” Ellion said. “If the First Legion won’t have us, we’ll figure out how to make a living in the city. When things settle down and the roads are safe to travel again, we’ll go looking for our families.”

  “So that’s it then,” Remus said. “The squad’s finished.”

  “Aye, but that’s the way of things. Nothing lasts forever. You gave us the chance us to win our freedom. Half of us may have fallen in battle, but the other half survived. We might’ve all perished if we stayed prisoners.”

  Remus reached out a hand and clasped forearms with the former Legion sergeant. “So be it. If you ever need anything, find me. If it’s in my power to help, I’ll do so without question.”

  Ellion returned the embrace, giving Remus’s forearm a hard squeeze. “The gods go with you. You were meant for greater things than leading this ragtag squad. When I hear your name spoken with hushed awe in the tavern, I’ll be able to think to myself, ‘Why, I knew Remus before he was a hero. I taught him how to fight in a filthy prison in the Wilds.’ ”

  With a grin, Remus let Ellion go and walked through the rest of the squad where they rested. He made his quiet goodbyes, wishing the men well. Most were reluctant to rise or even make eye contact with him, but a few stood and embraced him, sad that their time fighting together was at an end.

  When Remus was finished saying his farewells, he found himself standing alone with Tethana.

  “You should rest too,” she said.

  “I’m not tired,” Remus said. “Something in me is changing. I’ve not been the least bit weary since you saved my life.” He lifted his gauntleted arm to show her the device. “This thing is humming with energy. I think the lightning charged it somehow. It has hooks in my skin that I don’t know how to remove. Whatever it’s doing, I feel like I could run a hundred miles without stopping to sleep.”

  Tethana reached out a timid hand, placing her the tips of her fingers on Remus’s jaw. With a gentle prompting, she turned his face so that she could peer into his eyes. “I can see it in your eyes,” she said in a hushed voice. “They’re practically glowing.”

  “Yours are too,” Remus said.

  “What?” Tethana jerked her hand back. “Are you certain?”

  “Without a doubt. I can see little sparks of green deep in your eyes. It’s quite fetching. Are you feeling any different?”

  “This is no time for flattery,” Tethana said, but she still smiled. “Do you mean am I feeling different apart from being able to sense your emotions and hear your voice in my head? I don’t know. I feel good I suppose. Actually, I feel great now that I think about it. What’s happening to us?”

  “I have no idea,” Remus said. “But it’s because of these stones we carry. My guess is we’re linked through them. Perhaps they’re giving us power too.”

  While they talked, they had walked a little ways beyond the crowd of survivors. Alone on the plains, between a storm-blackened horizon and the multitude of people they were fighting to save, Remus and Tethana sat and talked. Lost in each other’s company, they looked toward the east, amazed by the terrible beauty of the savage sky. Remus’s hand found Tethana’s, and for an instant, the world stopped turning.

  “Will we make it?” Tethana asked, breaking the silence and bringing them crashing back to reality.

  “We’ll make it,” Remus said. “I’ve only just found you. I don’t intend to lose you now.”

  From somewhere deep inside, a small voice laughed at him. “Life is nothing but pain and loss,” the voice said. “Don’t pretend to be ignorant of this.”

  Remus shut out the voice and gripped Tethana’s hand tighter.

  Chapter 19

  NARIN LED AVENTINE THROUGH the palace to the throne room. As they approached the castle’s inner sanctuary, the amount of guards increased tenfold. In every nook and alcove an armored soldier stood watch. At every corner, the two of them were challenged to identify themselves.

  “There’s an entire century on guard in here,” Aventine murmured as they approached the great doors of the throne room.

  “Emperor Pontius grows more paranoid by the day,” Narin sai
d. “He no longer trusts the Rune Guard alone to protect him. Only his personal troops are allowed this close.”

  In front of the massive double doors, four soldiers stood in a line, giant tower shields resting on the stone floor. When Narin and Aventine drew near, the soldiers leveled spears in the gaps between their shields to form an impassable barrier.

  “State your purpose or retreat!” a hostile voice shouted.

  Narin stopped well short of the wall of shields. “We’re here to see the emperor. A Rune Guard survivor has returned from the eastern border of the empire.”

  Hushed voices conferred behind barricade. Once they reached a decision, a voice rang out, “Wait there. I’ll ask the emperor if he wishes to speak with you.”

  Aventine and Narin waited in silence in the middle of the hallway. The throne room doors cracked open and one of the four soldiers disappeared inside. After what seemed like a very long time to Aventine, the soldier returned.

  “Emperor Pontius will grant an audience,” the soldier said. “But only one of you may enter.”

  Narin shook her head in frustration. “As I said, paranoid. He’s not the man he once was. Go ahead, I’ll wait here.”

  Aventine took an uncertain step toward the doors. The two guards in the center stepped back, opening up a gap for her to pass through. When she was in their midst, a soldier stepped in front of her.

  “I’ll need your weapons,” the soldier said, an insistent hand thrust at her.

  “I’m a Rune Guard,” Aventine said. “I swore to protect the emperor with my life.”

  “You can give me your blades, or you can turn your pretty little arse around. You have till the count of five to decide.”

  Unnerved and reluctant, Aventine unbuckled her weapons and handed them over. Her chain-linked runed daggers were on her hip, but she still carried her runeforged sword on her back, and its companion dagger on her leg. The soldier let out a low whistle when he inspected the weapons.

  “This is a runeforged blade,” he said, pulling the sword halfway out of its scabbard. “Only five of these have ever been made, and I know for a fact none were awarded to a young Rune Guard girl. Where did you get this?”

  “I-I found it at Fort Delgrath, on the border,” Aventine stammered. “The fort had been ransacked, and I needed weapons.”

  “It’s a crime for anyone but the owner of this sword to carry it. If they are deceased, law says it must be returned to the imperial armory.” The soldier looked up at Aventine as if to judge her reaction. “I see that you’ve done just that. I’ll inform the emperor that you have returned one of his runeforged blades. You’ll get your daggers back when he’s done speaking with you.”

  The soldier turned and pushed the huge door open just wide enough for Aventine to enter. She stepped into the throne room, angry at how she was being treated. These guards were acting like she was an outsider, like she was someone not loyal to the emperor.

  On the other side of the door, she stopped in her tracks, transfixed by the sight of the Castle Solis’s great hall. Built on top of a cliff that jutted out over the sea, the hall was at least several hundred feet long. At the far end, the emperor’s throne sat atop of steps of the purest white marble. On both sides of the room, columns of white stone rose to dizzying heights, topped by magnificent arches that supported the peaked ceiling. Under these arches, between the columns, was only air. Open to the sky, the great hall felt like an arcade of the gods. A hundred feet below, the open sea beat against the cliffside.

  The ceiling drew her eye and held it. Painted high above her head, the history of the empire was displayed in living color. Never before had she seen such magnificent artwork. She recognized legends and heroes from the distant past and spotted the crest of House Morn proudly waving with the flags of a hundred other noble houses. As the mural progressed toward the throne, entering into the present and ultimately the future of the empire, the painting displayed the starry skies, moons, and the mysterious wandering stars. Above the emperor’s throne, a gilded sun was painted so that it surveyed all: past, present, and future. Aventine had to admit, the effect was astonishing.

  Beneath the rays of the painted sun, Emperor Pontius slouched on his throne. He made no effort to welcome Aventine. He did not move at all. Unsure of herself, Aventine started to walk through the imposing hall. Gusts of wind buffeted her from both sides, the cold air carrying ocean spray. She had to fight vertigo as she passed by each massive stone column. Her mind tried to convince her that she would be plucked from the floor and thrown into the sea far below. Aventine mastered her fear and, growing in confidence, strode boldly to stand before the emperor’s throne.

  He watched her come the whole way. When she was near enough to make out his face, her step almost faltered. Emperor Pontius looked haggard, his frail body not even taking up half the great stone seat. His face was drawn and pale, eyes sunken in dark sockets, but intelligence still burned in that gaze—and something else, something Aventine had seen before. She shuddered, remembering the eyes of the insane barbarian from the Wilds who had tried to stab a nail into her eye. That same mania lurked in the Emperor Pontius’s face.

  “Beautiful, is it not?” the Emperor Pontius said.

  “Pardon me, your grace?” Aventine said, caught off-guard by the question.

  “The sky. There is no duplicity in the dispensation of the elements. When the storm rages, the clouds turn black and thunder booms. When the heavens are clear, the sun blesses every soul with warmth and light. All one must do is consult the horizon to know its mood. Not so my two-faced subjects. In the clear light of day, they plotted against me. They unleashed a storm, all the while telling me that the horizon was clear. I trusted them. I made most of them who they are by granting them titles, power, and land they could never have won themselves. And they have repaid me by trying to tear down my empire.”

  Aventine did not know how to respond. She stayed silent. Emperor Pontius continued, though Aventine was not sure if he was speaking to her, or to himself.

  “I saw through their deceit,” he said. “I was ready for their black-hearted treachery. When they came to put my head on a pike, I was already gone. Here in Amalt I am untouchable, unassailable. My fortress stands as a bastion for all those still loyal to the true empire. Lady Athlain assures me that soon we will have the strength to sally forth and crush the usurpers. They will rue the day they defied the holder of the Bloodstar.”

  “Your grace,” Aventine said, seeing her opening. “Your Rune Guard stand ready to serve as well.”

  Emperor Pontius focused on her as if seeing her for the first time. Aventine flinched and dropped her eyes—nothing could have prepared her to be the target of the emperor’s scorn. His penetrating gaze sized her up and found her wanting.

  “The Rune Guard has failed me,” Emperor Pontius said, slow and deliberate. “Against the wise counsel of my advisors I carried on the traditions of my fathers. Out of some foolish romanticism, I allowed your guard to persist. And what did it bring me? Ruin.”

  Unable to abide this, Aventine stepped forward. “But your grace, we were undone by an unknown enemy and corruption from within. We never—”

  “Silence!” Emperor Pontius roared, showing signs of strength at last. “Do you think me a fool? I know that the traitors do not act alone. Some dark, foreign power aids them. Agents of this hidden enemy have plagued me for years. Couriers bearing my orders disappear on the road. Trusted advisors die in bed of mysterious causes. Precious documents are stolen from the archives, never to be seen again. And always, there are figures in the shadows that I can’t quite see. Who was to be my defense against these threats in the darkness? The Rune Guard!” Emperor Pontius paused, his eyes glittering in their dark sockets. “Do you know what happened after your expedition marched away?”

  Aventine shook her head.

  “An assassin infiltrated the palace and murdered my family. Right under the noses of their Rune Guard protectors.”

  Aventine gasp
ed, tears springing to her eyes. She had revered the royal family, awed by their poise and grace. When she had trained in the palace, Aventine had witnessed Empress Marciana’s compassion and gentleness firsthand. Aventine had sometimes dreamed that the empress would adopt her as a daughter. The vision of a slain empress, lying in her own blood, was too much to bear.

  “Oh yes, I cried too,” Emperor Pontius spat. “I raged. I personally executed the guards that allowed my family to be butchered, but I could do nothing to bring them back. And now you stand before me, telling me that the Rune Guard is ready to serve. Look around you. Alkomia has barely survived your service.”

  “Your grace…” Aventine said, unable to compose an adequate response. She swallowed hard, squared her shoulders, and tried again. “Your grace, three months ago I stood before your throne. I swore an oath to live and die in your service, to give everything I had for the empire. Thus far, I have done exactly that. I marched with the expedition to the border, where we were betrayed by House Lome. I was left for dead on the battlefield. I awoke as a prisoner of the enemy. Only my fellow Rune Guard’s sacrifice allowed me to escape. Since then, I have made all haste, traveling across the width and breadth of the empire to return to your side.

  “Duty has driven me to forsake family, risk the lives of my friends time and again, and cast aside any thought of my own life or desires. Every member of your Rune Guard is the same. Those who have fallen, gave their lives for you. And any who still live will never forsake you.”