A Rule of Queens (Book #13 in the Sorcerer's Ring) (12 page)

Darius slashed and slashed, the click-clack of
his wooden sword piercing the air as he blocked blows alternately from Raj and Desmond,
each attacking him from both sides. They were driving him back, and he was
working up a sweat as he sparred with them, doing his best to fend off one blow
after the next. The sun was setting after a long day of labor, and as they had
nearly every day during this last moon cycle, Desmond, Raj and Darius sparred,
letting out all their aggression for the Empire, all their frustration with
their taskmasters, on swordplay.

On the sidelines, Dray sat there, watching
every slash, snarling at Darius’ attackers every time they landed a blow.
Clearly he wanted to pounce, but Darius had finally taught him to sit there and
watch patiently. Yet his snarling filled the air, and Darius did not know when
he would finally snap and defy his command. He was so loyal to Darius, as
Darius was to he, that there was no controlling him.

Over the last moon cycle, Darius and Raj and Desmond
had become close friends, the two older boys determined to make Darius a better
fighter. It was working. Darius felt his arms and shoulders grow tired, but not
as tired as they had been in days before; and while in the past days too many
of their blows slipped past, today he managed to block their blows as they
attacked relentlessly.

Back and forth they went, Darius blocking side
to side, spinning around after blocking one high blow and even venturing to
fight back, slashing. He felt himself getting stronger, quicker, more
confident. He knew that as their friendship deepened, so had his skills in
combat.

Darius was concentrating, finding a weak point
in Raj’s strike, about to land his first blow—when suddenly, a girl’s voice cut
through the air.

“Darius!”

Darius, distracted, turned at the sound, and as
he did, he lowered his guard and received a mighty blow on the ribcage.

He cried out and scowled at Raj.

“Unfair!” he said.

“You let down your guard,” Raj said.

“I was distracted.”

“In battle,” Desmond said, “your enemy hopes
for distractions.”

Darius turned, annoyed, and was surprised to
see who had been summoning him. To his shock, there was Loti, fast approaching,
looking distraught. He was even more surprised to see her eyes were red from
crying.

Darius was baffled; he hadn’t seen her for the
entire moon cycle, and he was certain she never wanted to see him again. He
didn’t understand why she had sought him out now, or why she was so distraught.

“I must speak with you,” she said.

She was so upset her voice broke, and he could
see the agony across her face, deepening the mystery.

Darius turned slowly and looked at Raj and
blank.

They nodded back, understanding.

“Another day,” Raj said.

They turned and walked off, and Darius and Loti
were left standing alone in the clearing, facing each other.

Darius walked toward her, and she surprised him
by running into his arms, embracing him, and hugging him tight. She cried over
his shoulder as she did. He didn’t know what to make of it; the ways of women
were endlessly mysterious to him.

“I’m so sorry,” Loti said, crying, over his
shoulder. “So sorry. I am such a fool. I don’t know why I was so mean to you. You
saved my life. I never thanked you for it.”

Darius hugged her back, holding her tight. It
felt so good to have her in his arms, and he felt redeemed to hear this, after
all they had gone through. All the suffering and anguish and disappointment and
confusion he had felt over the last moon cycle began to melt away. She really
did love him after all. As much as he loved her.

“Why didn’t you—” he began.

But she cut him off, leaning back and raising a
finger.

“Later,” she said. “For now, I have urgent
business.”

She cried again, and he looked into her face,
wondering, then reached out and held her chin.

“Tell me,” he said. “Whatever it is, you can
tell me.”

She paused for a long time, looking down, then
finally she looked up and met his eyes.

“I killed one of them today,” she said, her
voice deadly serious.

Darius saw the seriousness in her eyes and knew
this was no joke. His stomach dropped, realizing.

She nodded back, confirming it.

“They tried to harm my brother,” she explained.
“I couldn’t stand by. Not anymore. Not today.”

She broke into tears.

“Now the Empire will come for me,” she said. “For
all of us.”

Now Darius understood why she had sought him
out; he pulled her to him, and she held him and cried over his shoulder as he
held her tight. He felt sympathy for her, as well as compassion—and most of all,
a newfound sense of respect. He admired her actions.

He pulled her back and looked at her
meaningfully.

“What you have done,” he said, “was an act of
honor. Of courage. An act that even men were afraid to do. You should not feel
shame—you should feel pride. You saved your brother’s life. You saved
all
of our lives. We might all die. But now, thanks to you, we will all die with vengeance,
with honor in our lives.”

She looked at him, and she wiped away her tears
and he could see he had comforted her; yet her face flashed with concern.

“I don’t know why I came to you first,” she
said. “I guess I thought…that you would understand. You among all of them.”

He clasped her hands.

“I do understand,” he said. “More than I could
say.”

“I must tell them now,” she said. “I must tell all
the elders.”

Darius took her hand in his and looked at her
meaningfully.

“I vow by the sun and the stars, by the moon
and the earth below it. No harm shall befall you while I live.”

She looked into his eyes, and he could feel her
love for him, a love spanning centuries. She embraced him, leaning in close and
whispered into his ear, the very words he had been longing to hear:

“I love you.”

Thorgrin, joined by his Legion brothers, walked
slowly, cautiously, through the land of the dead, blinked, and wondered what
had happened. He felt as if he had lost all sense of time, as if he had been down
here for weeks, perhaps even an entire moon cycle, walking through a strange
vortex of time and space as he marched through the endless tunnels in the land
of the dead. He knew it was not possible to be marching for so many days, yet
he felt so weary, his eyes so heavy. Had that much time really passed?

He blinked several times, peering through the
reddish vapor that came and went in these massive caves, and looked over to see
his companions looking equally disoriented. It was as if they were all finally
just now stepping out of the fog, back into the present time. Thor remembered
the riverkeeper’s warning:
a few steps in this land can last many moons
.

“What has happened to us?” Elden asked the
question on all of their minds.

“Have we been marching all this time?” O’Connor
asked.

“And yet it feels as if we’ve just entered the
tunnel,” Reece said.

Thor looked all around, taking in the
surroundings, thinking the same thing himself. He was immediately on guard,
squeezing his fist around the hilt of his sword, as he felt a cold draft cling
to his skin. Creepy noises filled the gargantuan cave, echoing out of nowhere in
this place of blackness. The only thing to light their way were the sporadic
fires shooting up from the ground, every twenty feet or so, flaming along the
sides of the cave. Occasional geysers of fire shot up, some of them sparking,
others slowly bubbling. More so than any place he’d ever been, this place felt
like a place of darkness and gloom and death. Thor felt that they had entered
another dimension, a place where no human was supposed to travel. He began to
wonder if they had made a very big mistake in coming here.

“Guwayne!” Thor shouted.

His voice echoed off the cave walls, returning
to him again and again, as if mocking him. He looked about, stopping, listening,
hoping for any sound of his child. A baby’s cry. Anything.

There came nothing but cruel silence in response.
Then, after a long pause, the sounds picked up again—the distant drips and squeals
and fluttering of wings, the myriad hidden creatures in the darkness. There
also came the distant sounds of hisses, of soft moans, of chains rattling. Endless
moans and cries echoed in the air, the sounds of souls in anguish.

“What is this place?” Indra asked, her voice
gloomy.

“Hell,” Matus answered.

“Or one of the Twelve Hells,” Elden added.

Thor walked carefully, avoiding small pools of
fire, and he felt a deepening sense of apprehension as he heard a distant roar
and rumble of some sort of creature.

“If everyone is dead, what is that?” Matus
asked. “What are the rules down here?”

Thorgrin stepped forward, gripping his hilt,
and shook his head.

“There are no rules,” Reece said. “We left the
rules in the land above.”

“The only rules here are told by the edge of
your sword,” Thor said, drawing his sword with a distinctive ring. The others
followed, all holding their weapons, all on edge. Reece held a mace, Matus a
flail, Elden a sword, O’Connor his bow, Conven his sword, and Indra her sling.

“I don’t think these will be of much help,” Reece
said. “After all, these creatures have already been killed.”

“But
we
haven’t,” Indra said. “Not yet,
at least.”

They continued marching toward the sounds,
deeper and deeper into the cave, the sounds getting louder as they felt
themselves enveloped in this other world.

“GUWAYNE!” Thor shouted again.

Again, his voice echoed, this time followed by
mocking laughter coming from somewhere deep inside, bouncing off the walls.
There came a dripping sound, and Thor looked up to see small drops of lava
dripping from the ceiling, sporadic drops, like rain, hissing as they landed.

“OW!” O’Connor shouted and jumped.

Thor saw him jump out of the way and wipe a
smoldering flame off his sleeve, slapping it out. They all banded together more
closely and hurried down the center, where there was less dripping.

“They said no one leaves,” Matus said. “Maybe we
will die sooner than we think.”

“Not here,” Reece said. “As crazy as it sounds,
I don’t want to die in the land of the dead. I want to die above ground.”

Conven stepped forward, looking relaxed, as if he
were comfortable here.

“It might just save us a trip,” he said.

They marched and marched, the red vapor rising
and disappearing, Thor peered into the darkness, some portions of the cave lit
by greater flames than others. He looked everywhere for Guwayne.

Yet everywhere he went, there were no sign of
him.

Thor heard a sudden rattling, and he looked
over and was shocked at what he saw. At first he couldn’t process it. But then,
the mist cleared and it came clearly into view. He was not seeing things.

There, but a few feet away, Gareth, Reece’s
brother, appeared out of the darkness. Chained to the wall with iron shackles
about his neck, he stared out at them with a gaunt face and hollow cheeks. His
arms and legs were shackled by silver shackles, and he had a dagger protruding
from his chest.

He smiled at them, blood dripping from his
mouth as he did.

“Gareth,” Reece gasped, stepping forward,
holding his sword out before him.

“My brother,” Gareth said to him.

“You are no brother to me,” Reece said.

“Do you recognize this dagger in my chest?”
Gareth asked. “It is the one I used to murder Father. It has been plunged back into
me. For all eternity. Would you take it out for me?”

Reece backed up in horror, staring at his
brother, horrified.

Slowly, Reece backed away. He turned, and Thor
could see the fear in his face, and then he continued down the tunnel.

The others joined him, all turning their backs
on Gareth, leaving him there, chained to the wall, doomed to live out his hell
for eternity.

“Please!” Gareth wailed behind them, sounding
desperate. “Please free me! Please come back! I’m sorry! Do you hear me,
brother? I am sorry I killed Father!”

They marched and marched, and Thor could see
the ashen look on Reece’s face. He looked shaken.

“I had never thought to see my brother again,”
Reece said softly as they continued walking.

Thor looked all around and had a new respect
for this place; he wondered what might come next.

They passed small caves, recessed into the
walls, similar to the one from which Gareth had emerged, and as they did, they
were all on guard, wondering who else they might encounter.

There came another rattling of chains, this one
more violent, and out of the darkness of one of the small caves there came a
figure lunging toward them. They all jumped back and braced themselves, Thor
raising his sword, ready to strike.

But the man was stopped by his shackles before he
could reach them. He snarled, reaching out at them.

“Come closer,” he shrieked, “and I will
introduce you to hell!”

Thor looked at the man, horribly disfigured,
missing an eye, his face burned and covered in seeping wounds that seemed
fresh, and Thor realized, with horror, who it was: McCloud.

“You are the one who attacked Gwendolyn,” Thor
said, as it all rushed back to him as if it were yesterday. “I had always
wished I was there to kill you first. Now I have my chance.”

Thor scowled and stepped forward and stabbed
McCloud through the heart.

But McCloud stood there, still smiling at him
as blood poured through his mouth, looking unfazed.

Thor looked down and saw there were already
several swords piercing McCloud’s torso.

“Kill me,” McCloud said. “You would do me a
great favor and end this hell that I’m in.”

Thor looked back in wonder, and he realized at
that moment that there was justice in the world. McCloud had hurt countless
others, and now he was suffering, in his own private hell. And he would suffer
forever.

“No,” Thor said, retracting his sword. “I won’t
spare you from any hell.”

They kept walking, McCloud’s shouts assailing
them as they went. Thor was even more on edge now, peering into the darkness,
as one by one, figures emerged from caves on both sides of the tunnel, all
shackled.

Thor passed men he recognized, men he had
killed on the battlefield, most of them foreign enemies. They all seemed to
want to try to reach him, to attack, but their shackles held them just out of
reach.

Suddenly Matus jumped back; Thor turned and saws
his dead father and brothers from the Upper Isles emerge, reaching out for him.

“You let us down, Matus,” his father said. “You
betrayed us for the mainland of the Ring. You turned your back on family.”

Matus shook his head as he stared back.

“You were never my family,” he replied. “In
blood only. Not in honor.”

Reece walked forward, right up to Matus’s
father, who glowered back at him. He still had the stab wound from where Reece
had killed him.

“You killed me,” he said to Reece.

“And because of you, the woman I was set to
marry is dead,” Reece replied. “You killed Selese.”

“I would kill her again,” he said, “and I would
gladly kill
you
!”

He lunged forward for Reece, but he was stopped
by his chains.

Reece just stood there and scowled at him.

“I would kill you every day if I could,” Reece
said, feeling fresh agony for Selese’s death. “You stole away from me the
person I loved most.”

“Why don’t you stay down here with us,” Matus’s
brother said to Reece, “and then you can.”

Thor turned and led Reece away, yanking him
along.

“Come on,” he said to Reece. “They’re not worth
our time.”

They all kept marching, passing an endless parade
of ghosts. Thor saw all the men he’d killed in battle, faces he hadn’t seen in
ages, as they walked deeper and deeper into this unholy place.

Thor suddenly felt a chill pervade his system,
and he knew, he just knew, that some evil being was lurking in a cave up ahead,
obscured behind a cloud of vapor.

Slowly, the figured emerged, stepping forward
as the vapor passed, and Thor stopped short, shocked.

“And where is it you march, my son?” came the
dark, guttural voice.

Thorgrin’s hair stood on end as he recognized
that voice, that voice that had caused him such heartbreak, that had caused him
endless nightmares. Thor braced himself.

It can’t be.

Thor was horrified to see walking out of the
blackness, chained by six shackles, his true father.

Andronicus.

Andronicus was stopped by his shackles, and
Thor slowly approached, standing before him, staring him back in his face. Andronicus’s
entire body was covered in wounds, much as Thor had last seen him on the
battlefield.

Andronicus grinned back cruelly, seemingly
invincible.

“You hated me in life. Will you hate me in
death, too?” Andronicus asked.

“I will hate you always,” Thor replied, shaking
inside.

Andronicus smiled.

“That is good. Your hate will keep me alive. It
will keep us connected.”

Thor pondered his words, and he realized his
father was right. The hatred he felt for Andronicus made him think of him every
day; it kept them connected in some strange way. He realized in that moment
that he would like to be truly free of him. And that to do so, he would have to
let go of his hatred.

“You are nothing to me now,” Thorgrin said. “You’re
not a father. You never were. You’re not a foe. You’re just another corpse in
the land of the dead.”

“Yet I live on,” Andronicus said, “in your
dreams. You have killed me. But not truly. To be rid of me, you would have to
conquer yourself. And you are not strong enough for that.”

Thor felt a fresh wave of anger.

“I’m stronger than you, Father,” Thor said. “I
am alive, up above, and you are dead, trapped down here.”

“Are you, who dreams of me, truly alive?”
Andronicus asked, smiling. “Which one of us is trapped by the other?”

Andronicus leaned back and laughed, louder and
louder, a grating noise, his laugh echoing off the walls. Thor looked back at him
with hatred; he wanted to kill him, to send him to hell. But he was already in
hell. Thor realized it was himself he needed to free.

Thorgrin felt a hand on his shoulder now, and he
turned to see Reece, returning the favor, pulling him away.

“He’s not worth it,” Reece said. “He’s just
another ghost.”