Rune Destiny (Runebound Book 2) Read online

Fire filled Aventine’s voice. “Tell me, did they resist you? When you attacked your guards with your own hand, did they raise a weapon to defend themselves?”

  Aventine saw understanding and sadness blossom on the emperor’s face.

  “No, they did not,” Emperor Pontius said, his voice strained. “They knelt before me and offered their lives as payment for their failure.”

  “And you struck them down.”

  Tears spilled down Emperor Pontius’s cheeks. “How could I not? My grief and rage demanded bloodshed. They stood outside the room where my children suffered and died, oblivious to the fate of my family until I came seeking my wife.”

  “And what if there was nothing those guards could have done? You’re right that a dark enemy aids the rebels from the shadows. I’ve seen it. It’s not human, and it wields powers that we’ve never seen. Against this enemy, and amidst growing corruption and resistance from those who should have been our allies, we Rune Guard did everything in our power to preserve the empire. We did not fail for a lack of trying. I cannot bring back your family. I cannot stop the conflict that is tearing the empire apart, but I stand before you now, ready and willing to cast myself into the ocean below should you command it.”

  Aventine’s voice wavered as she finished speaking. Her heart was filled with a burning fury. All this way she had come, everything she had endured, only to find that the emperor had spilled the blood of the men and women sworn to protect him. This was as far as she would go in the name of duty. She would not serve a mad tyrant. Unless he spoke next of contrition, she would march out of the throne room and never return.

  As Emperor Pontius listened to Aventine speak, his gaze softened. He relaxed, his rigid posture melting away as he leaned back into the throne. “Your words are a salve. Like the heroes of old, you’ve risked everything to serve your lord. This is how it should be. This is right. Lady Athlain tries to convince me that your order is to blame for this war. She postures and preens, ingratiating herself to me. Her soldiers are a boon, but she has no concept of true loyalty. Her only sense of duty is to herself. And the gods know, we need every bit of help we can get. Very well. I promote you to captain. You will serve with Commander Narin.”

  Aventine controlled her anger, but her voice had an edge when she said, “I did not come here seeking advancement.”

  “Nevertheless, you’ve found it,” Emperor Pontius said with a sad smile, a glimpse of his old self shining through. “Commander Narin tells me that she is in desperate need of help, and I’ve decided that you’re it.”

  The drastic and sudden change in the emperor’s mood worried Aventine. The person looking down at her now was not the enraged madman she had been speaking to only a heartbeat ago. She knew that sorrow and stress could ravage even the strongest mind, but if Emperor Pontius had come unhinged, any hope of rebuilding the empire was doomed.

  “I will assist her in any way that I can, your grace,” Aventine said. “But there is something else I would speak of, if you will allow it.”

  Emperor Pontius waved a benevolent hand at her. “Of course, speak your mind.”

  “You are not the only victim of House Lome’s scheming and treachery. Many of the other houses found themselves strong-armed into following Lome, or left without any option but to ally themselves with the traitors. Most of them had no idea that Sir Lorent intended to assault your palace. By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late. You were gone, and they were guilty of treason.

  “Before reaching Amalt, I infiltrated the enemy ranks. I witnessed firsthand the growing discord and lack of leadership. Not all are happy to oppose you. I believe that if given the chance, most of them would make reparations and kneel before your throne. People are suffering. The empire is burning. Maybe House Lome wanted this, but no one else did. We can still save and rebuild the empire if you will be merciful to those who defied you unwillingly.”

  While she talked, Aventine watched Emperor Pontius closely. She could see him fighting with himself. The side of him that was driven by grief and madness would never listen to reason, but perhaps she could still reach the old emperor. She sensed that the fate of the empire depended on it.

  “You were wronged, your grace,” Aventine said. “No one will deny that. But there’s no need to make innocent citizens suffer for the foolishness of a few. Seek peace. You can cut the legs out from under House Lome by offering forgiveness. Give us the foundation we need to fight against this new and mysterious foe. We can deal with the real traitors when the empire has been saved.”

  “You are wise beyond your years, Aventine of Morn,” Emperor Pontius said. “I had forgotten what good counsel sounded like. Lady Athlain screams for war. She would have me storm forth to claim my bloody vengeance. Commander Narin is too taciturn to speak her mind, and she’s the only Rune Guard advisor I have left. But you, you’ve marched in here and said what I needed to hear—what I could not see for myself. Your words are the gentle rays of the sun shining through the clouds after a storm. I have let anger rule me these past months—it has covered me like a death shroud. For the sake of the empire, I must set aside my sorrow. If what you say is true, and there are those amongst the enemy that are still loyal, I will make overtures of peace. We shall see how they respond.”

  Aventine bowed her head. “I could not ask for more, your grace.” The emperor’s words were righteous, but he seemed distracted. He would not look at her as he spoke, focusing on some distant point behind her instead. He said what she needed to hear, but there was no strength or conviction in his voice.

  It’s like he can’t remember how to be the emperor.

  “Tell me,” Emperor Pontius said. “Does House Morn stand with the enemy? Did you see your father in their ranks?”

  “I did,” Aventine said, trying not to let the deep sadness she felt in her heart creep into her voice. “House Morn never intended to rebel. They are unwitting captives of House Lome’s corruption. My father asked me to come before you and beg for mercy.”

  “You spoke with your father, and yet you still came to Amalt? You left him behind as an enemy?”

  “I asked my father to come with me himself. I told him he could stand before you and explain all that had happened. He said that he could not forsake his duty to his lord. Nor could I.”

  Emperor Pontius stood up from his throne. He looked even more frail on his feet. “Aventine, you set an example for us all. As you have done your duty, so too will I do mine. The unbroken line of emperors will not end with me. Go now and send in Commander Narin after you. We have much to speak about.”

  Aventine hesitated.

  “There is something else?” Emperor Pontius asked.

  “Your guards took my weapons from me,” Aventine said. “I found the sword and the dagger in the ruins of Fort Delgrath. A pair of runeforged blades, they saved my life more than once. Your guards confiscated them and said they would not be returned to me. I never meant to steal them, or break any laws, but I wondered if I might carry them for a bit longer. At the very least, don’t bury them in the armory. Give them to someone who will wield them in battle.”

  “I can think of no one better to carry them in my name. They will be returned to you, with my blessing.”

  Aventine bowed. “Thank you, your grace.”

  She turned and made her way back across the immense hall. For the first time since stepping foot in the central empire, she had hope. It was a pitiful, small hope, reliant on a broken man, but she clung to it. As she exited the grand throne room, she looked up at the painted ceiling. Resolve filled her. By her actions that mural would grow to cover the entire roof. If the emperor could stay sane, the empire would survive.

  Chapter 20

  THE SUMMONED STORM PURSUED Remus and the survivors across the flatlands for five days. With the help of Tethana, he pushed the people to their limits every day. Each day, they put just enough distance between themselves and the blackened sky at their backs to collapse and rest for a few hours. Not e
veryone could keep the pace, and even the most hardy suffered. There was precious little water and food to go around. Every time they resumed the march, a few doomed souls were left behind to be swallowed by the tempest. Remus spoke with each one, imparting what encouragement he could.

  On the last stop before reaching Umgragon, Remus found himself kneeling next to an ancient Volgoth man whose strength had run out. Tethana stood behind Remus, her face turned into the swirling wind. The storm was close. They had rested for longer than usual, preparing to make the final push to Umgragon.

  “I saw you tame the lightning with my own eyes,” the old man said, his voice as weak as he looked. “I’ll go to my ancestors knowing that the gods once again bestow their blessings upon mortals. Watch over my people, son. Keep them safe.”

  Remus gripped the graybeard’s hand, not trusting himself to speak and not knowing what to say. Without fail, every person they left behind had faced their death without fear, honored to have been witness to Remus’s heroic stand against the enemy.

  “Go on with you now,” the old man said, releasing Remus’s hand and shooing them away. “Leave an old man to die alone. I go willingly to the halls of my people.”

  “I’ll not forget your bravery,” Remus said, knowing the words were woefully inadequate. Great gusts of wind tore at his clothes.

  “Pah,” the old man spat into the gale. He had to raise his feeble voice to a shout to be heard. “There’s a hundred stories of bravery. If you want to remember me, tell the world I had a rod as thick as a tree, fire in my heart, and murder in my eyes. You tell them I rode the lightning.”

  A fierce grin spread across Remus’s face. “I’ll tell everyone I meet.”

  The old man nodded, smiling to himself. Remus and Tethana left him there to face the storm on his own. Together, they ran to catch up with the retreating multitude. The old man was one of five who did not march on with them this time. Remus could not help but look behind. He knew what would happen. The storm would creep over the fallen figures, and five jagged bolts of lightning would lash out, impaling bodies to the earth and burning them to a crisp.

  “Must you watch every time?” Tethana said from his side.

  Remus turned his gaze away in response. “No.”

  With the killing whirlwind bearing down on them, the mob of survivors put on a burst of speed. An undercurrent of unspoken fear filled the people with dread. Remus knew that they would either reach salvation today, or perish. Within the next hour, a dark shape appeared on the horizon. As they drew closer, the black fortress city of Umgragon reared from the landscape. A haze of smog covered the city.

  “I hope those walls can stop lightning,” Tethana muttered.

  Remus and Tethana joined the Ethari in the vanguard. Pricker and Monstur were already there.

  “What’s that in front of the gates?” Remus said, shading his eyes with his hand and squinting.

  “It looks like a shanty town,” Pikon said. “There’s people outside the walls, thousands of them.”

  Pikon’s keen eyesight proved true. Spread out in front of Umgragon’s walls was a ramshackle city of shacks, wagons, and tents. Thousands of people were living in the mud outside the city gates.

  “This is the source of your salvation?” Pricker said in his mind. “They’ve locked out their own people.”

  “We’re getting inside that fortress, whether they let us in or not,” Remus snapped back.

  Goregash had assembled all of his remaining warriors and now marched alongside the Ethari. From the city, they must look like an invading army. Promost Lister still commanded several hundred Ethari, and Goregash had at least a thousand Volgoth warriors.

  “What do you want to do?” Pikon said. “We can sweep these vagrants aside without much effort.”

  “No,” Remus said. “We don’t want to be trapped between two enemies. We only attack as a last resort.”

  The question of how to approach the city answered itself. A pitiful delegation from the shanty town detached itself from the squalid line of shacks and cautiously approached Remus and the Ethari. At the head of the group, a swarthy man with dark hair and a beard led the way. They stopped fifty paces from where Remus stood.

  “Pikon, pick ten men and come with me,” Remus said. “You come too, Tethana. Let’s go see what they have to say.”

  Accompanied by the Ethari squad, Remus and Tethana stepped out to meet the ragged delegation. Pricker and Monstur followed without prompting, but Remus did not tell them to turn back. He scanned the crowd of dirty faces as he approached. Gaunt and weary, each person stared back at Remus with dead eyes. What little emotion he did see was fear or anger. These people had no hope. He focused his attention on their leader, who at least seemed to have some steel in his spine.

  Remus stopped ten paces from the bearded man—the Ethari halted with him, following his lead. Tethana stood at his side. He waited for the leader to speak.

  “If you’ve come to kill us, we’ve little to resist you with,” the bearded man said. “You’ll find nothing of value in yonder hovels.”

  “We’re not here to kill you,” Remus said. “Who are you, and why are you outside the city walls?”

  The man pondered Remus’s question, visibly contemplating what Remus had said. “If you’re not with the raiders, then where did you come from?”

  Remus shook his head. “Answer my question first.”

  “We’re farmers and laborers,” the man said, eyeing the strange Ethari with uncertainty. “My name’s Marthis. I ran an inn about three days walk back the way you came. We were chased off our land by invaders from the sea. They look an awful lot like those gray-skinned bastards at your side, though the armor’s different. We fled to Umgragon for protection, but the governor refuses to open the gates. So we live in the shadow of the city’s walls. The flatlands ain’t safe.”

  “They’re more than just unsafe,” Remus said. He turned and pointed at the black sky hanging over the plains. “You see those thunderheads?”

  “Aye,” Marthis said. “We’ve been watching the horizon for days. Never seen a storm linger for so long.”

  “That weather’s not natural. The storm was summoned for one purpose: to kill everything it passes over. It’s chased us all the way from Delgrath.”

  Marthis’s eyes flicked back and forth between Remus’s face and the dark clouds. “Chased you, you say? And how the sodding hells does a storm do that?”

  Remus heard the disbelief in the man’s voice. “I can’t tell you how because I don't know. I can only tell you that it’s coming, and if we don’t get inside those walls, you’ll all die with us.”

  “He’s telling the truth,” Tethana said. “Behind us are what remains of the Volgoth people. We, too, flee from invaders who stole our homeland.”

  “These dark soldiers are on the run too,” Remus said, gesturing to the Ethari by his side. “If your raiders look like these Ethari, then you’ve already met the foe that pursues us. They enslave the Ethari and use them as soldiers. We all share a common enemy, and a common cause. Help us get into the city, and we all have a chance to survive.”

  “What you say must be true,” Marthis said. “Because I can’t believe you’re insane enough to try and fool me with such a tale. But we can’t help you get into the city. We’ve been locked out here for months. They don’t even sell us food. We’ve neither seen nor heard anything from inside the walls in two weeks.”

  “Take us to the gates,” Remus said. “Where you failed, perhaps we can find a way in.”

  Marthis shrugged. “As you wish. Follow me.”

  Remus, Tethana, and the rest of their escort set out after Marthis through the squalid refugee camp. The filthy denizens of the place hid behind their flimsy doors, quaking in fear as the Ethari marched by.

  “What a sad place,” Monstur rumbled from behind Remus in the Volgoth tongue. “Not a tree for miles, and those abominable walls of stone and metal blot out the setting sun.”

  “What did he
say?” Marthis said.

  “He said that with a little garden, this place would feel just like home,” Remus said.

  Marthis grunted. “Home is an idea—a luxury long taken from us. We’re alive, that’s enough.”

  As they moved through the camp, Marthis’s companions fell away, one by one, until the swarthy inn-keeper was all that remained of the refugee delegation.

  “I don’t know how I ended up being the leader,” Marthis said. “But the rest look to me for direction. I do my best, but I’m an old soldier and an innkeeper. I know how to swing an axe and pour a tankard, not govern a small town.”

  “Why are the gates shut?” Remus said. “I was told that the First Legion is stationed in Umgragon. Have they made no effort to drive off the invaders?”

  “We know precious little of what goes on inside. For the past two months, the First has been fighting a war against rebels in the mountains.”

  “Rebels?”

  “Aye. A faction inside the city tried to assassinate the governor and take control. They failed and fled into the mountains. The First tried to flush them out and kill them, but they put up a terrible fight. A few weeks ago, the First limped home, battered and bloody. We heard they finally destroyed the rebel’s mountain hideout, but the battle cost them dearly. We’ve seen no soldiers on the walls since then and heard nothing from within the city.”

  “They may be worse off than we are,” Tethana said.

  “Maybe so,” Remus said. “But this is the only chance we’ve got. We have to get inside.”

  Black as night and peppered with spikes of metal that protruded like great thorns, the walls towered over them as they approached. They were like no fortification Remus had seen or even heard of. A grimy haze covered everything in the city, giving the stone walls an ethereal, haunting appearance. Two massive doors barred the wide gateway into Umgragon. To the right of the gate, a much smaller tunnel, only about ten feet high, disappeared into the dark stone.

  Marthis stopped twenty paces from the gate. “These doors have been shut for months. The only comings and goings happen through that small tunnel there, and we’ve seen no one pass through it for at least two weeks.”