Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2) (61 page)

Robin laughed aloud. “What do you think this is, some kind of luxurious manor house? The prince really spoiled you.”

“But m’lord—”

Robin held up a hand and she fell quiet.

Augum hated the way she had to address him, hated everything about the situation. If he could only get free from the manacles—

Robin bade the burly guard to follow him as he paced over to Augum. “I’m going to question this prisoner. I command you not to interfere. Is that understood?”

The silver-haired guard unfolded his arms and glanced at the entrance. “Forgive me, Honored Necrophyte, but I do not think this fitting. I best seek out the lieutenant.”

“Then go crawling to the lieutenant already!” Robin turned back to Augum, eyes afire. “In the meantime, send Justinius in.” Before the guard even turned away, Justinius rushed inside. The older guard flashed Justinius a disgusted look before slapping the tent flaps aside.

Robin glanced between Mya and Augum and gave a salacious grin. “You like her, don’t you? You like
my
servant.”

Augum felt the blood rush to his head. He better not—

“It’s the way you’ve been looking at her. I’m not stupid, you know. Justinius—seize her.”

“NO—!” Augum struggled so hard against his manacles he felt them cut into his flesh.

Justinius snatched Mya by the neck and marched her over. She didn’t protest, almond eyes low.

“Look at him struggle. I don’t think the gutterborn rat struggled that hard even for the Leer.” Robin gave Leera a malicious smile.

Leera’s head dropped. Augum felt a horrible pang in his stomach.

“So we know why you all came here,” Robin went on, turning briefly to glance at Haylee. “Though I don’t know
why
you’d want to save the likes of her—in any case, what we don’t know is, who
else
is involved in the insurgency.”

Augum gaped at him. “What are you talking about, there
is
no one else!”

“No—? There’s no one else, you say?” Robin’s voice had a deadly softness to it. “Then tell me, my little rat friend, why is Commander Tridian late returning? Hmm?”

“I have no idea, I really don’t—” He looked up at Mya, whose long jet hair still managed to shine, almond eyes cast at her feet. She was a lamb ready for slaughter. It was enough for him to bitterly regret not having the frantic lightning power as a last resort, for he would have smote Robin there and then.

Robin’s lip curled as he turned to Justinius. “Apparently he doesn’t have any idea. Why don’t we
make him
understand.”

Justinius seemed to take the unspoken hint and drew a dagger, placing it to Mya’s throat. Her chin rose as she yelped, breathing rapidly.

The tent went into uproar. “What are you doing, are you mad—?” Haylee shouted, while Leera threw curses and Bridget tried to alert the guards. Ms. Jenkins, meanwhile, still hung unconscious.

Augum felt every muscle in his body tighten to the point of breaking. The manacles strained.

Robin didn’t flinch, patiently awaiting Augum’s response.

“There
is
no one else—”

“You lie,” Robin said in a tone trying to mimic the Blade of Sorrows.

Justinius adjusted the blade at Mya’s neck. She stiffened with a squeak and shut her eyes tight.

“I’m telling the truth, I swear it—! Damn you, I’m telling the truth!”

“I think he’s lying, sir,” Justinius said.

“Cut her—” Robin said just as the lieutenant with the linen shirt entered, followed by a group of guards, one of them the silver-haired guard.

Justinius immediately lowered the blade from Mya’s throat, but kept a firm hold on her neck.

“What is the meaning of this—?” the lieutenant asked.

“What does it look like? I’m
questioning
this prisoner. If it wasn’t for your meddling interruption, he would have revealed who else is involved in the insurgency.”

“He was about to kill her!” Augum said, unable to control the desperation in his voice.

Robin scoffed, waving the idea aside.

“On whose authority—?” the lieutenant challenged.

“Commander Tridian’s,
sir
,” Robin replied in a mocking tone.

“Commander Tridian’s authority stops with Mizora company. This is Venga company, under the command of Commander Canes. Now—” and the lieutenant casually stepped forward. “Young man, need I remind you that threatening a legion servant is dishonorable and unseemly?”

“And need I remind
you
that she is
my
servant, given to me by the Lord of the Legion himself!” Robin took a step back, his face twisting with an over-dramatized sneer. “Are you aware that I’m the only one in this camp with the power to control that wraith out there? One word from me and you’ll all be torn to shreds—”

The lieutenant and guards gave him hard looks.

Robin must have known he had overstepped because he quickly held up a hand in supplication. “But I understand, Lieutenant, how you feel. Corrigus, the Blade of Sorrows, and the Lord of the Legion himself have the utmost confidence in my training, which I have to continue. You see, not only am I going to be the most powerful necromancer—besides Lord Sparkstone of course—but I am also going to be the most adept questioner, even more capable than Commander Tridian himself.”

Robin paused a moment to let his little speech sink in. “Now, if you would kindly let me continue my training, I am sure I can overlook this … interference.”

Robin had changed a lot, Augum thought. Even his speech was more refined. Then he remembered they were grooming him for command.

He could almost see the thoughts running through the lieutenant’s brain—if he stood in the way of this brat now, later, when the brat became powerful, there could be retribution.

The lieutenant rubbed his chin. “The Blade of Sorrows has truly taken you under his wing, hasn’t he?” He sighed, his eyes sweeping over Mya with a calculating look. “Well, since she
is
your servant, given by Lord Sparkstone himself, I see no reason not to let the questioning continue.”

The tent erupted with all the girls shouting their disagreement, while Mya gasped as Justinius’ knife returned to her porcelain throat.

“Leave them be,” the lieutenant ordered, and with a gesture, took all the guards with him.

“Now where was I?” Robin asked, fingering something in his pocket.

Augum glowered. “I promise you, if you do anything to her—”

Justinius pressed the knife closer, staying anything else he wanted to say.

“Who else is involved!” Robin shouted.

Augum’s mind rushed for some kind of plausible lie.

“I’m tired of waiting for your lies,” Robin said, shaking his head. “Cut her.”

“My pleasure.”

Leera, Haylee and Augum began shouting and screaming, yet something strange had happened—Justinius seemed to struggle to cut her throat, as if an invisible hand was holding the knife back.

“What are you waiting for? I said cut her!”

Justinius’ knuckles were white. “I … can’t …”

Robin looked around until spotting Bridget, whose brows were furrowed, gaze solely on Justinius. “It’s her, she’s using Telekinesis—”

He advanced toward her, but what happened next changed everything. A series of concussive, implosive bangs were heard outside, one after another, accompanied by corresponding bright flashes that lit up the outside of the tent like lightning.

The noise culminated in multiple volleys before trickling to a stop. Robin and Justinius hesitated as soldiers bustled outside.

Robin paled. “That’s the sound of teleportation …”

All was still in the tent. When the noises ceased, someone shouted, “All hail the Lord of the Legion’s return!”

Robin visibly relaxed. Perhaps he’d been afraid the resistance had come.

A moment later, Lord Sparkstone’s voice rang clear across the grounds. “The crone knew about the trap—prepare yourselves, for she heads this way!”

Karma

Robin and Justinius exchanged fearful looks before throwing Mya to the ground and scrambling outside.

“Are … are you all right?” Augum asked.

She brought a trembling hand to her throat and glanced through him. Suddenly the tent flaps flew open as a slew of heavily armored Black Guard rushed inside, followed by the Red Guard—towering crimson-armored warriors holding burning swords, their bloody eyes gleaming through slits cut into great bucket helms. A putrid stench much like rancid meat filled the tent, nauseating the prisoners and some of the guards.

The tent flaps moved aside again, this time of their own accord, and the Lord of the Legion entered, followed by Corrigus, Commander Canes, and Prince Sydo Ridian, wearing gold-fringed necrophyte robes and a proud look on his face. Robin, Justinius and the lieutenant squeezed in behind. Robin was whispering a question to Sydo, gesturing at his elaborate robes, but Sydo seemed to ignore him, his nose in the air, making a show of paying attention to the Lord of the Legion.

It didn’t surprise Augum to see the traitor by his father’s side. The Lord of the Legion appeared how he remembered him, wearing golden battle plate with a golden plumed helm. His cloak crackled with lightning, as did his eyes. The shortsword Burden’s Edge hung on his hip, looking undersized.

Despite Augum’s manacled hands and the loss of his arcane ability, hope flowed. The crone delivered his message, and Nana was coming!

Lord Sparkstone fixed his son with a hard stare and exhaled. He paced toward him with regal ease, the plume on his helm so tall it brushed along the tent ceiling. He stopped before Augum and crouched.

A hush befell the tent as he slowly removed his helm and ran a mailed hand through sweaty umber hair. He sniffed sharply, a bull readying to charge, before laying electric eyes on Augum.

“My son, how I regret the way things … turned out.”

Augum’s voice was flat. “You’re a murderer. You burn down villages. You even murdered my mother, your own wife.”

Had anyone ever talked to the Lord of the Legion this way before? Judging by how his entourage stiffened, Augum thought not.

Lord Sparkstone’s eyes softened only a moment before hardening. “Inflexible and stubborn, much like your mother and great-grandmother. The day will come when you see how necessary all of this was. One must rule with an iron fist to achieve anything these days.” Sparkstone stood up. “You’re injured.”

Augum turned his gaze to Robin, who shrank behind Canes.

“Nothing like a good battle scar,” Sparkstone said. “But let us talk of more pressing concerns. The crone stands in the way of our dreams. Perhaps you can speak with her, convince her that giving me what is rightfully mine is for the good of us all. Do you not see, my son? Do you not see what I offer? Eternal life for
everyone
—think on that!”

“That’s a lie, and you know it. We came from Ley with great-grandpa Thomas Stone, and leaving Ley killed him—he aged a hundred years right before our eyes.” He threw a glare at Sydo. “
He
saw it with his own eyes.”

His father surveyed him a moment. “And how was my dear, absent grandfather? Did he apologize for abandoning his wife?” Sparkstone flexed his neck before loosening his shoulders, as if gearing for a fight. “I know about the Leyan curse, Son. I am confident I will find a way around it. Thanks to the prince, I also know about the curse of the seven.”

Sydo smoothed his red hair while flashing a smug look at those around him. Few paid him any attention.

“I will find a way around that, too,” Sparkstone continued. “I will be the first in all of history to possess all seven scions—but I won’t stop there.” He clenched his fists close to his golden chest. “How I long to share my grand plans with you. How I
long
for that, Son.”

He sighed dramatically and let his arms fall to his side. “But you have not joined me. You have not followed in the footsteps of your own father. Nevertheless, one day you will, and on that day you will hear the reason—” He waved idly at his surroundings, “—for all this. You will hear the reason, and you will understand—and you will agree.”

What was he talking about? “You can’t make me join you.”

The Lord of the Legion slowly glanced at Leera, Bridget, Haylee, even Mya. “Do you really think that true?” he asked softly.

A shiver crept up Augum’s spine. Did his father know about Mya? Did Robin say something?

“Do you not see what it is I will be forced to do?” his father continued in mock sorrow.

Augum looked at Leera and Bridget, both watching him with defiant faces, though in their eyes he saw fear. He knew he had to be very careful here. If he protested too much, his father might make an example out of them. He did, after all, slaughter an entire village in front of him, so why would he hesitate now?

An idea came to him. His father wanted something from him, maybe he could use it as leverage to keep them safe …

“Then promise me my friends will come to no harm, Father,” Augum blurted in a purposely defeated tone, saying the last word tenderly. “All of them—Ms. Jenkins, Haylee, Leera, Bridget, and Mya. No matter what happens, free them.” He was counting on his father being blinded by the longing to share his grand plans with him, at least just enough to yield maneuvering room.

Lord Sparkstone watched him a moment. “If I do, will you cooperate with me in retrieving the scion?”

The question had a taint of cynicism to it, but Augum saw little choice—he had to try to save his friends somehow. Besides, without arcane powers, this was all that came to mind—a lethal cat and mouse game with the Lord of the Legion.

He dropped his head, hiding his eyes. “Yes.”

His father nodded slowly. “Take them away,” he commanded, “including the servant.”

Robin scrambled to the front of the group. “But, Lord Sparkstone … she’s mine!” He pointed firmly at Mya. “You gave her to me!”

The Lord of the Legion slowly turned his head and Robin instantly dropped his eyes. Meanwhile, one of the guards began unlocking the manacles. After staring at Robin for a length of time, Sparkstone returned his attention to Augum, idly resting his palm on Burden’s Edge. “So how do you think Nana’s going to come at me, hmm, Son?”