Empire of Bones (2 page)

It was a sad tale but one that had played out a hundred times over since Harnin assumed control of Delranan. He waited patiently, suspecting there was more to the tale.

Ingrid debated telling him everything. Some secrets hurt too much to expose. It was her need to have him totally on her side that won through, however, forcing her to tell him her darkest secrets. “My husband was an officer in the Wolfsreik.”

For once, Orlek didn’t know what to say.

The Betrayed

“What do you mean missing? Didn’t I instruct that site to be monitored closely at all times?” Harnin asked, seething with hatred. The one-eyed usurper of Delranan slammed a fist into the aged wooden table in Badron’s former council chamber. His skin had taken on a grayish tinge. His good eye was sunken and ringed in black. Heavy, dark robes concealed his dramatic weight loss. He was little more than a walking skeleton, hardly befitting the title of king.

Jarrik felt his face flush crimson. “It was being guarded. Apparently someone gave orders to have the guards shifted. The confusion left enough time for the rebels to sneak up and steal Argis’s body.”

“Someone? Aren’t you supposed to be in command of the guards, Lord Jarrik?”

Jarrik swallowed hard.

Across the table, Skaning saw an opportunity to exploit himself. “Lord Harnin, I’ve had teams sweeping the Keep and surrounding grounds for the traitors. We’ll know who it was that betrayed you before nightfall.”

Torchlight flickered subtly, reminding them of time when strife or chaos weren’t prevalent in their frozen northern kingdom. The large circular chamber was mostly empty, making it appear hollow. Half of the chairs hadn’t been filled since before King Badron took the bulk of the Wolfsreik and went to war with neighboring Rogscroft at the end of autumn. Cold, stone walls mocked the three lords, echoing their words to pointless levels.

Jarrik shot him a violent glare.

Harnin broke out in a fit of snide laughter, surprising them both. “Ever you seek to prove your value to me at the expense of another’s mistake, eh Skaning? I think I should have removed you long ago, because you’ve certainly done nothing usable since winter began.”

“I’ve given this kingdom and you everything! My soldiers have secured countless enemy positions and stores, right up until the plague struck.”

Harnin leveled his gaze and said, “Your soldiers have, but not you. You’ve kept yourself warm at my fires, eaten my food, drank my wine, and slept with my women but you’ve not gone out to the wolves and hunted. You show poor quality for a lord of Delranan.”

Skaning opened and closed his mouth quickly.

Harnin turned back to Jarrik. “I want the commander of the watch brought to me immediately. If I find any wrongdoing on his part he will be executed. From this moment every guard’s loyalty is in question. Trust none. This castle is no longer secure. I had thought the rebellion was finished, but they seem resilient. Perhaps your purge of Chadra wasn’t so successful after all, Lord Jarrik.”

Entrusted with eradicating the rebellion during the time of weakness, Jarrik sent routine patrols into the main city and the docks with the standing order to kill on sight. They’d killed dozens. Under normal circumstances the number would have been inordinately small but the plague practically devastated the capital city. He felt dread growing in his stomach. Harnin would surely turn mediocre numbers into dismal mismanagement. The image of the executioner’s axe dropping on his neck chilled his blood.

“Our patrols executed their tasks to standard, I assure you. The city was in disarray thanks to the effects of the plague. I wasn’t willing to risk the lives of my Men just to…”

“To carry out the will of your ruler?” Harnin snapped bitterly. “If my own captains lack the willingness to fulfill their tasks what need have I for them?”

Rebuked, he struggled to cover his inaction. “We will redouble our efforts. The rebels must have been considerably weakened. Rooting them out shouldn’t pose a problem.”

“See that it doesn’t. I have no need of incompetent minions,” Harnin said, his voice deceptively calm. “Bring me the captain of the watch.”

A pair of guards dragged the captain-of-the-watch’s body away by the ankles, careful not to get blood smears on Harnin’s carpets. His death was deemed necessary, even if there was no evidence linking him to the theft. Harnin needed an example. The guard captain was dead the moment Harnin summoned him. It was just a matter of how. Harnin was no stranger to violence. He’d been a warrior in one fashion or another for most of his fifty-odd years. Various battles and campaigns led him to the Man he was today. Or, rather,
would
have been if not for the dark, Cimmerian influences of the Dae’shan.

Wiping the needle-like dagger clean, Harnin sat behind the grand desk that had belonged to the kings of Delranan for centuries. Wolf heads were carved on each of the four corners. Ever had the kings been protected by the might of the Wolfsreik. It was only fitting that their desk bore the likeness of those fierce, proud warriors. Twin braziers on either side of the desk provided light and warmth.

Harnin steepled his hands in front of his face and slowly closed his eyes. So much had happened in just a few quick months he often found it difficult to accept. He knew in his heart that this was not the vision he once harbored for his beloved kingdom. Delranan was supposed to grow under his control. To develop into one of the major kingdoms in Malweir, a northern rival for central Averon. He imagined being proclaimed high king and having lesser lords and nobles make pilgrimages to honor him. None of that seemed likely now.

Delranan was plunged into despair. The people, what remained, were petrified to leave their homes in the day, much less the night. Under the guidance of the Dae’shan, Harnin took his beloved kingdom deeper and deeper into abject misery. The sad part was he found perverse pleasure in so much misery. Harnin One Eye was not the ruler he should have been, and he had little qualms with it.

He’d served as Badron’s right hand for decades, always carrying out the dirty work behind the scenes. His intimate knowledge of the king’s dealings gave him leverage and undeniable power. Taking control once Badron had gone off on his ill-advised campaign was all too easy. He’d rounded up those still loyal to the king and had them executed before anyone knew what was happening. The council of lords added weight to his actions, giving him blanket control without the worry of stealing power for themselves. Still, Harnin trusted no one.

Consolidating power proved slightly more problematic. The main army was gone, leaving a five-thousand-man reserve he called up and deployed across the kingdom. One fifth remained in Chadra for security and in the event an outside threat presented itself. Normally the threat of the Wolfsreik being turned loose kept neighboring kingdoms from having ideations of conquest but with Badron and the army trapped on the eastern side of the Murdes Mountains, the kingdom was wide open for invasion.

Winter had been brutal thus far, leaving him with the false impression that he had time to enact his plans. Only they weren’t his plans. They were the Dae’shan’s. Pelthit Re clearly had designs for Delranan and wasn’t inclined to include Harnin. The One Eye recognized the fact he was a puppet ruler, but couldn’t find a way out. Not without giving away everything he’d struggled to earn. Trapped, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

The room chilled suddenly.

“You seem troubled, One Eye.”

Harnin’s eye snapped open, no longer surprised with how easily the ethereal Dae’shan came and went as they pleased. He still hadn’t discovered how they simply folded darkness around them and vanished. Until he did, there wasn’t any way to combat them.

“Perhaps I disturb you,” Pelthit Re hissed from under his cowl.

The Dae’shan hovered a half a foot off the ground. Six feet tall, he was slender and swathed in dark robes of heavy gray. His hands were folded within his robes, leaving no sign of physical form. Darkness surrounded the Dae’shan. Arrogance pulsed off him, disturbing Harnin more than the Dae’shan could know.

“No, your council is always welcome,” Harnin replied tersely.

Pelthit Re studied his puppet with cold, unfeeling eyes. He’d lived for centuries. Always in the shadows of the greater Amar Kit’han, the lesser Dae’shan had once been a virtuous Man. They were the neutral representatives of the old gods, but when the gods of light went away the Dae’shan fell into corruption. They swore allegiance to the dark gods and worked tirelessly to open the gateways between worlds so their new masters could return to lay claim to all.

“I sense a great deal of turmoil within you,” Pelthit Re said.

Harnin lowered his hands. “There is much concerning me lately. Rest assured, I can manage my own kingdom.”

“A kingdom you have neither earned nor won. You wouldn’t be in that chair if not for my assistance. Remember your place, One Eye.”

“My place is the lord of Delranan!” he snapped. “I am the power in this kingdom. My will is law. Not yours. You remain in the shadows while Men go forth to fight and die in my name. Delranan belongs to me.”

Pelthit Re cocked his head. “Perhaps you need to be reminded of your station.”

Waves of power, shimmering in the air like heat on a summer day, lashed out at Harnin. It struck with enough force to blow him back against the wall. Pain shot down his legs as the back of his head hit cold rock. Harnin groaned and rolled to his hands and knees. Coughing blood, he struggled to rise. The Dae’shan struck again, forcing him back to his belly. And again, slamming his body against the wall. Only when Harnin stopped trying to rise did Pelthit Re stop his assault.

“I warned you,” the Dae’shan accused. “Do not trifle with my power. I am an agent of the dark gods. Mere mortals can’t harm me. I am disappointed in your lack of judgment, One Eye. I gave you this kingdom in the hopes that you would prepare it for a glorious age. Instead you let these pathetic rebels sink you into ruin. Perhaps I should take your head like poor Lord Argis.”

Harnin coughed, spitting a wad of blood and phlegm. “I can handle my own affairs. Argis was their figurehead. His death was a great blow to their cause.”

“Was it? You couldn’t prevent his body from being stolen, nor did you extinguish the rebellion when it lay at its weakest.”

“I have already addressed Jarrik’s incompetence,” Harnin said in a useless gesture of self defense. The Dae’shan would know the truth of it. “He’ll either succeed or find himself under the axe. Delranan is mine.”

“Your inability to control your own lords is hardly my concern. Will you be prepared when Bahr, brother of Badron, returns with his niece?”

Harnin frowned. “Why should they return? I burned his ship, his estate. I took everything he had in Delranan. He has nothing.”

Pelthit hissed laughter. “He doesn’t seek to reclaim any past glory, fool. No, his intentions are far more wicked than even you might imagine. Bahr seeks the Blud Hamr, an impossible weapon from a forgotten era. Should he find it, and return alive, he will remove everything you have done or hold dear, Harnin One Eye. It appears you cannot escape that family.”

Hatred blossomed in Harnin’s heart. First Badron and now his brother. He cursed that family. “Can’t you stop him?”

Pelthit Re remained silent, fearing any answer would only give away their ineffectiveness at stopping the king’s brother. Until Amar Kit’han found a way to neutralize the wizard and last descendant of the order of Mages, Anienam Keiss, there was no stopping Bahr from retrieving the Hamr.

Harnin picked up on the hesitance and tried to laugh, stopping quickly when his ribs hurt too badly. “You can’t, can you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be putting so much pressure on me. Your precious Dae’shan are just as weak as we mortals.”

“I wonder if I have made a mistake in choosing you,” Pelthit Re accused.

Shock widened his eyes. All of his dreams and possibilities for advancement came crashing down. No matter how weak the Dae’shan might appear, he knew he was no match for even one of the demons. “I can fix this. I swear. Delranan will be strong once again.”

“See that it is. The alternative will not be…pleasant.”

Darkness swirled, coalescing around the Dae’shan. The room grew frigid right before the nightmare disappeared. Harnin One Eye lay in misery, alone. Pain lingered throughout his entire body. Smoke puffed up from his hair. He felt abused, both physically and mentally. He was not up to the unique challenge the Dae’shan presented. His only hope was to force the rebellion into making a mistake so drastic Pelthit Re didn’t need to return with threats. Compounding his problems was the nasty rumor that the Wolfsreik was trying to find a way back across the mountains. He frowned, knowing there wasn’t anything to be done about that. He needed to focus on ending the rebellion and fortifying his defenses for when the king returned.

Harnin slowly picked himself up and, using the wall for support, ambled over to the double window overlooking the town of Chadra and the eastern plains that led to the steps of the Murdes Mountains. Somewhere out there, Bahr and Maleela headed towards a weapon of unimaginable power that could not only destroy Harnin’s fragile hold on Delranan, but the fate of the world as well. Scowling, he regretted not putting either to death when he had the chance.

* * * * *

Grumbling at being pulled away from the warmth of his fire, Sergeant Refle secured his sword and went to the small metal door built within the main gates of Chadra Keep. It was well beyond midnight and freezing. A fresh storm had blown down off of the Northern Ocean and was attacking Delranan with impossible strength. Snow drifts piled high in the courtyards. Refle could only imagine how bad conditions were in the nearly ruined city. Not that he cared. The rebels could freeze or starve to death in his eyes. They were a pox on Delranan and needed to be cleansed. The pounding increased.