Master of Chains (26 page)

He smiled and nodded as he looked at Liam, but the baron’s newest bodyguard thought he could see significant worry in the man’s eyes.

“Master Beverly, show the King’s Magistrates in, won’t you?”

The herald looked from the baron to Liam, then back to the baron. “But, my lord, they are here to imprison you. You must flee.”

Purdun placed his hands behind his back, and nodded. “I thank you for your concern, Master Beverly, but I assure you there is no reason to be alarmed. Now please, let them in.”

The herald was slow in backing up. He grabbed the baron’s hand and kissed it several times. “It has been a pleasure to serve you, my lord.” Then he turned around and, taking a look back, hesitantly walked out of the room.

When the herald was gone, the half-giant guards returned to their spots in the corners of the room.

The baron took a deep breath. “Liam,” he said, “stay close. I don’t know what all of this is about, but I do not intend to be taken from Zerith Hold in chains.”

The grim possibilities of what might happen in the next few moments gripped Liam. He nodded, touching the hilt of his enchanted long sword, just to remind himself that it was there, waiting for him if need be.

The two men stood in silence for what seemed a very long time. Liam could feel his heart beat in his chest. He didn’t know what was going to happen. The uncertainty unnerved him. He’d rather know he was about to fight an entire tribe of goblins with only a rolling pin and a rock than face the unknowable next few moments.

When the herald finally knocked on the door, the sound startled Liam, sending a shot of adrenaline through his veins.

“My most excellent Lord Purdun, Baron of Ahlarkham, Ruler of Duhlnarim, and purveyor of all that can be seen from the Deepwash to the borders of Tanistan…”

Liam had heard the herald present visitors to Lord Purdun before, but never had he been so elaborate or long-winded.

“I present to you King Korox’s Magistrates,” finished Master Beverly.

Through the door came six highly polished soldiers. Each of them wore a helm and heavy plate mail, painted white, with the red entwined twin-wyvern crest of King Korox on their chests.

Typically, as Liam had learned not only as a guard but also as an invited guest, visitors to the baron’s private sitting room were not allowed to carry weapons. The King’s Magistrates were an exception to this rule. They were the strong right arm of Llorbauth, the policing force for the entire kingdom of Erlkazar. The Magistrates could be judge, jury, and executioner. They were the enforcers of the kingdom’s laws, and they answered to the king alone.

From what Liam understood, there were almost as many Magistrates as there were soldiers in the King’s army. The fact that Korox had sent only six to talk to Purdun meant either that he didn’t expect any trouble, or that these were extremely dangerous men.

“Welcome to Zerith Hold,” said Lord Purdun. “To what do I owe the pleasure of having six of the King’s Magistrates in my personal chambers?”

A man on the end stepped forward and doffed his helm. He was a rugged-looking man with a jet black goatee and long black hair pulled back in a ponytail.

“Lord Purdun, I am Magistrate Olivio.” He put his helm under his arm and bowed. “We are here under order of the king to take you back to Llorbauth.”

Baron Purdun stood up straight. “And may I ask why the king would need to send the Magistrates to collect me?”

“The king has heard that the good people of Ahlarkham are up in arms. He has sent us to collect you so that he may avoid another Elestam,” explained the Magistrate.

“Another Elestam? The king is worried that the people hate me so much that they will revolt and eventually secede from the country?”

Olivio nodded. “Yes. That is what the king would like to avoid.”

“That’s preposterous,” said Purdun. “The king should know that the situation in Ahlarkham is nothing like it was in Elestam.”

“I beg the baron’s pardon,” argued the Magistrate, “but the king understands that the vampires have returned.”

This gave Purdun pause. “Yes,” he said after a moment, “we have seen vampires recently, but—” He placed his hand on Liam’s shoulder—”my men have them and the local rabble under control.”

Magistrate Olivio bowed again. “While I’m sure your men are quite capable of taking care of any threat that plagues your barony,” he looked Liam up and down, “that does not change the fact that the king wants us to bring you to him.” The Magistrate took a step forward. “So you can come with us peacefully, or we can use other means.”

Purdun shook his head. “This must be part of her plan.”

“Excuse me?” said the Magistrate.

“Nothing.” Lord Purdun shook him off. “With all due respect, Magistrate, you don’t understand. If you remove me from the barony, then there will be no one here to lead the fight against the vampires. If the king is truly worried about the reappearance of the undead causing a major peasant uprising and a secession of the barony from Erlkazar, then surely he wants me here to direct the effort to fight them off.”

“Your logic is impeccable, my lord,” said Olivio, a twinge of impatience entering his voice, “but I’m afraid I have my orders.”

Purdun walked back and forth across the floor, shaking his head. The tension in the room grew as the man pondered the situation.

Stay calm, Liam, he said to himself. Wait for the baron’s orders. The conflict was nearly unbearable.

Finally Purdun stopped his pacing, and he turned on Magistrate Olivio. “You go back to Llorbauth and tell my brother-in-law that instead of sending his Magistrates, he should be sending his army to help me defend my barony against an outside threat.”

Magistrate Olivio visibly bristled. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Placing his helm back on his head, he said, “This is your last chance to come peacefully. If you refuse, we will have no choice but to use force.”

All six Magistrates drew their swords at the same time, filling the room with the high-pitched ring of steel sliding against steel.

In a flash, the four half-giant guards were standing in a circle around Purdun. Just as fast, Liam had his weapon in hand.

“You’re making a huge mistake,” said the baron. He waved his hands before him, and the air began to crackle with arcane energy.

“No,” said Olivio, “it is you who is making the mistake.”

Montauk breezed down the staircase leading deep into Shyressa’s tomb. The thick dust that had covered the stone steps was no longer present—it had been carried away by the feet of vampire spawn over the past few months.

At the bottom, he stepped through the archway and into the vampire’s den. The sarcophagi that had dominated the room were gone, replaced with row upon row of kneeling spawn, their heads bowed in supplication to the glorious vision before them. On the dais in the middle of the room stood Shyressa. She was glamoured in her favorite image—one of a striking young woman with long dark hair and porcelain skin.

Shyressa stood before the kneeling throng, her hands raised in the air. Between them, over her head, floated a large box. Beams of pale white energy radiated out from the box, reaching out to touch each and every one of the kneeling vampire spawn.

Carved in the middle of the box were the twin entwined figures—the twisted runes—that Montauk had come to adore since his induction into the secretive organization. The man stood looking on, enjoying the sight before him. So many unsuspecting people worked for the Twisted Rune. Only a few had the privilege of knowing what sort of work they were doing. Many died for the cause never understanding their larger purpose in the puzzle. Not Montauk. He had been kept in the know from the very beginning. Shyressa was good to him, and he felt he had served her well.

It had all been worth it, of course. He was now the head of the Crimson Awl. Soon he would be the baron of Ahlarkham. He smiled. Some time after that he may even be King of Erlkazar. And after that, Shyressa had promised to help him achieve immortality. The thought brought a smile to his lips.

It was glorious to be a part of something so powerful.

The box Shyressa held over her head stopped glowing, and she lowered it. The vampire spawn kneeling on the floor began to stir, and the Rune Mistress lowered her eyes to the human waiting in the archway.

“Montauk,” she said, her voice sounding sleepy and lethargic. “Come to me, my pet.” She waved for him to approach her on the dais.

The vampire spawn hissed as they parted before Montauk. The floor cleared quickly, allowing the human passage through the crowded room. Approaching the dais, he climbed up the steps and knelt before his mistress.

She offered him her hand, and he kissed the back of it. Though it appeared to be the soft, supple skin of a beautiful young woman, against his lips it felt like cold, lifeless flesh.

“What news, Montauk?” asked Shyressa, pulling back her hand.

“Everything goes as planned,” said the human, getting up from his knees. “Lord Purdun has backed himself into a corner, and the king’s enforcers are in Duhlnarim as we speak.”

Montauk rubbed his hands together, excited at the proposition of his plans all falling into place. “The King’s Magistrates will put Purdun in chains and take control of Zerith Hold. They’ll see for themselves how your vampires attack the peasants, and the king will have no choice but to side with the Crimson Awl. Wanting to avoid the same fate as Elestam, which he himself helped to topple, Korox will lock Purdun away for good and institute me as the Baron of Ahlarkham.”

“The pieces are in motion. Soon the entire country of Erlkazar will be ours to command,” purred the vampire. “You’ve done well.”

Montauk swelled inside. “Thank you, mistress.”

Shyressa opened her arms. “Come to me, Montauk. Let me embrace you.”

Montauk paused. “Embrace me?” A chill wind blew through the chamber, and Montauk pulled his cloak tighter.

The vampire smiled. “Is it not the custom of humans to embrace when they are pleased?”

“Well …” said Montauk hesitantly. This didn’t feel right. “Yes. It is.”

“Then come to me. Let me embrace you. For I am pleased.” Shyressa spread her arms wider.

Montauk took a step back, but he slammed into something that stopped him from moving. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the worshipful vampire spawn closing down on the dais. They hissed at him, blocking his path to the archway.

A cold sweat beaded on his forehead. “What’s… What’s this all about?”

Without moving her feet, Shyressa, her arms still out wide, slipped across the dais toward Montauk. “Will you not indulge your mistress?”

Montauk felt ill. His knees went weak under him and Shyressa’s shadow loomed over his head. “But… but who will replace Lord Purdun?”

Shyressa wrapped her arms around Montauk. The glamour that covered her faded, revealing her long sharp fangs and the pressed, withered skin of her advanced age. She opened her mouth wide and bit down on the shivering human’s neck.

Montauk sobbed. “But… I don’t understand.”

Shyressa took a long slurp of Montauk’s fresh, live blood. Then she released him. Taking a step back, a shimmering glow encased her entire body. The air around her frame began to waver and shake, and the vampire Rune Mistress transformed into the perfect replica of a human male.

Montauk, holding the wound in his throat, looked up in horror at an exact copy of his own face.

Shyressa cleared her throat. “I won’t be having any further need for you, Montauk,” she said, her voice the same pitch and tenor as Montauk’s own. “I shall be assuming the duties of the barony myself.”

The vampire placed her foot on the real, kneeling Montauk and kicked him backward off the dais into the waiting hands of her vampires.

“Please, mistress, no,” shouted Montauk as the spawn tore at his flesh. “I’ve served you well.”

“Yes, Montauk,” agreed the glamoured vampire. “Until the very end.”

“I ask you this one last time, Magistrate,” said Lord Purdun, his hands beginning to glow with a blue-white light, “return to Llorbauth with my request for the king’s aid in defeating the vampires.”

Magistrate Olivio pulled a glass flask from a small pouch on his hip. It had a yellowish liquid in it. “Your request has been denied.” He hurled the flask at the floor near the baron’s feet.

In a flash, one of the half-giants reached out and snatched it from the air with its meaty palm. The vial never hit the floor, but it shattered against the guardian’s skin, sending up a vaporous gas.

Another of the half-giants grabbed Purdun around the waist and pulled him back two large steps. The remaining two followed, stepping in front of the baron, forming a wall of flesh between the Magistrates and Lord Purdun.

The yellow gas wafted into the air, surrounding the guardian who had intercepted it. The half-giant let out a choking cough, then slumped to the floor.

In the next instant, all nine hells broke loose inside Zerith Hold.

The King’s Magistrates rushed forward as a line.

Liam felt his stomach knot, then the rest of the world dropped away. He could hear his blood pump though his ears as he charged the closest Magistrate. He shouted like he had never shouted before as he brought his blade down. The enchanted metal cleaved through the soldier’s gauntlet and his flesh and bone beneath, taking off the Magistrate’s hand at the wrist. The severed appendage fell to the ground still gripping the hilt of his long sword.

The man wailed as blood pumped from his ruined arm, and he clamped down on the wound with his other hand, trying to stop the flow. Liam slapped the helmet off the man’s head and brought the hilt of his sword down on his skull with a heavy thud. The Magistrate slumped to the floor beside the half-giant. His blood pooled beside them.

“Take the human first,” shouted Olivio, and the other five Magistrates changed direction, surrounding Liam in a ring.

They closed in, cutting down Liam’s ability to move or dodge their attacks. Then they struck. Their blades flashed in at him, all moving in unison.

Liam caught the first one, parrying it harmlessly to one side. His armor deflected another. But he didn’t have enough room or speed to get to the other three, and each of them struck home. He was speared through the ribs and hip on his left side. The third blade slashed a deep cut along his right forearm.