Shadow of the Otherverse (The Last Whisper of the Gods Saga Book 3) (27 page)

“To the extent that our union will produce children. After that, on those occasions when we’re in the same city, there will be no further conjugal visits. You can have as many mistresses and whores as you desire. How you choose to rule in Obis will be entirely yours to determine.”

Sorial didn’t think it would play out quite so simply. As he had learned during the long weeks working and traveling with her, Myselene wasn’t one to give away something as big as a city once she possessed it, especially not one as powerful as Obis. Greeg apparently sensed this as well. “I think you
seem
to offer more than you actually do. One trait you didn’t inherit from your father is your silver tongue. He was as blunt and plain-spoken as any man I’ve ever met. Nevertheless, even with limits to my autonomy, the offer is more generous than I expected. And, considering the situation, it’s impossible to dismiss. But I need time to consider and to assess the threat represented by The Lord of Fire. Thus far all I have are scattered and inconclusive reports about the swath of destruction that follows him across the South. There’s no indication as yet that he intends to bring his forces across The Crags.”

“It’s precisely because of the immediacy of his threat that I can’t give you more than a few days. Once he makes his move into the North, it will take only weeks for him to reach Obis. You and I both know that Syre will be no more than a diversion. I must be securely seated on the throne by the end of the year. If I was to guess, I’d say the attack on Obis will commence before Midwinter.”

“Even with my support, you’ll find the Council of Nobles unwilling to move swiftly enough to confirm you.”

“Let me worry about that. The Council responds well to bribery and threats. I have the means to provide both. The death of one of their own will make them realize their vulnerability. If they see it in their best interests, they’ll act swiftly.”

“Very well, Your Highness. You can expect my answer within three days.”

* * *

Justin surveyed the work of his army with a sense of grim satisfaction. Earlford had been more thoroughly razed than Vantok. The city’s proud defiance had been met with a vigorous, uncompromising attack. The battle hadn’t been without a cost, however, and anger at his loss had prompted Justin to let the attack last longer than might have otherwise been the case. Against all odds, the catapults of Earlford had succeeded in killing a djinn. The creature had been blindsided by the attack and therefore unable to prepare for it or defend against it. The huge boulder hadn’t killed it, but the stunned djinn had tumbled from the sky and two dozen soldiers, many burned up by the creature’s natural body heat, had finished the job. It was proof that, under certain circumstances, those powerful entities could be vulnerable to non-magical attacks. Ten of the creatures remained but every lost djinn made Justin feel less secure about the path forward. He had never viewed Earlford as an especially difficult target, yet taking it had cost him a thousand men and one djinn.

Justin was standing outside on a terrace of the mansion he had commandeered for his temporary headquarters, the palace having been destroyed along with King Dax. In fact, this was one of the few buildings in the city relatively undamaged. Stone houses, like this sprawling one, were rare but readily identifiable as the only things left standing in what was otherwise a smoldering ruin.

“It used to be such a quaint city,” said Ariel, who was standing by Justin’s side, gazing out across the smoking wreckage. “You went further than I expected you to.”

“I went further than
I
expected me to. They shouldn’t have done what they did. Such a waste. They knew they couldn’t win. They should have surrendered.”

“Stubbornness. Some people would rather die than give in. The people here had the independence and character of a frontier town. Death first. You won’t swell your army here the way you did at Basingham.”

“No,” agreed Justin. “There are hardly any able-bodied men left alive. I’ll send out raiding parties to the nearby villages once the men have had a few days’ rest. Hopefully, Syre will be less intransigent.”

“Probably. Oh, they’d fight if they thought they had a chance but they’re not suicidal like the people here. Once they see the size of our force, they’ll throw down their arms. They should give you enough extra men to equal Obis on the battlefield. With no love lost between Syre and Obis, the newcomers will be more than happy to fight in that engagement.”

“While we’re waiting to move on Syre, I have a task for you.”

“I was wondering when you’d trust me enough for a mission.”

“It’s not a matter of trust,” lied Justin. “I wanted to give you time to recuperate. You and I know your captivity affected you worse than you let on. I can’t imagine what it would have been like and I’m not going to try to pretend empathy. But there’s an opportunity for you to gain a measure of vengeance against your brother and especially his wife,”

The change in Ariel’s posture told Justin he had her attention. Not that she would have refused his request even if it hadn’t intrigued her.

“I don’t know where Sorial is although all signs point to him being at Obis. I have an agent among the Vantok refugees” - Justin hadn’t told Ariel about his recruitment of Ferguson since he knew of her hatred and wasn’t sure how she would react - “who assures me that your brother departed for there a number of weeks ago in the company of Queen Myselene. Since Sorial didn’t make an appearance standing alongside the defenders at Earlford, it’s a safe bet he’s planning to confront me at Obis. I suppose it makes sense if you’re an unimaginative tactician. For the time being, we’ll leave him unmolested. Alicia, on the other hand, is vulnerable, and I can get you within striking distance of her almost instantaneously. My ever-burning fire near the Yu’Tar Library remains active. I propose to send you and two djinn through to eliminate everything - the elves, the library, and The Lady of Water. All in one clean sweep.”

“I thought you said there was a no-magic zone around the library.”

“Magic won’t impact the djinn. They’re pure elemental creatures whose puissance comes from means outside the Otherverse. The elves don’t have anything to counter them and, in order to defend herself, Alicia will have to withdraw from the void - which is where you’ll be waiting.”

“You’re proposing to destroy the library?”

Justin nodded. “Burn it to the ground.”

“Along with all the accumulated knowledge inside?” The catch in Ariel’s voice betrayed her surprise. Justin wondered if there was a note of dismay as well. The decision to incinerate the oldest and most complete repository of magic-based knowledge hadn’t been easily made but it was necessary. It was hard to predict the future but he knew that, regardless of what happened with his eventual quest, he wouldn’t be visiting again.

“There are other sources for some of what Kosterbus collected. It’s not as devastating a blow as it sounds.”

“You know it is.”

“Not to you, at least. The Yu’Tar Library has never been much of a draw for you.”

“My reading comprehension isn’t good enough for me to be able to make sense of that gibberish. It’s one of the drawbacks of being raised as a peasant rather than a noble.”

“Then this levels the playing field for future wizards.”

“You’re doing this so no one can follow you. You figured out how to enter the Otherverse, or what you think is the way, in that library, and you don’t want to risk leaving the door open to someone else.”

“There is that. Regardless of my reasons, however, the library will be destroyed. And I intend to use this as an opportunity to open up a wizard’s position.”

“You don’t have a replacement for Water.”

“Not in this army, but an agent has identified several possibilities. If any of them turns out to be legitimate, the only impediment will be earning the person’s loyalty, which shouldn’t be too difficult. Irrespective of where a new wizard’s sentiments might lie, I want Alicia eliminated. Her death benefits us in a number of ways and the prospect to strike at her couldn’t be better.”

“Sorial is completely devoted to his little Alicia. Killing her might push him to a dark place. He could become unpredictable and dangerous.”

Justin acknowledged the possibility. “He’s already dangerous but I understand that her death will destabilize him. It will probably make him rash and possibly suicidal. That reaction would benefit me.” Finally, after long weeks considering how best to eliminate The Lord of Earth, Justin had devised what he believed to be a masterful scheme. He wasn’t naïve enough to accept it as foolproof but there were no obvious flaws and it was unlikely that Sorial, with his lack of cunning and experience, would expect the tactic. It was for such eventualities that he had raised an army. There were times when magic, as useful a tool as it was, needed to be supplemented by physical force. This might be one of those times.

“Will you do it?” he asked.

“And break my brother’s heart? Of course. Let me know the specifics.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: THE DECLARATION

Sorial’s role had switched from assassin to protector. During the past week, Myselene and Greeg had caucused several times at the usual tavern, refining the queen’s plan of how to reveal her presence to the populace. Greeg was unhappy with her desire to create a public spectacle but she was determined on that point. He was concerned that, by coming forth in front of a huge crowd, she would become an easy target. She felt the benefits of such an approach outweighed the dangers, thereby placing the onus on Sorial to keep her alive and uninjured.

At least their period in the village had come to an end. Sharing a chamber with Myselene above Call to Arms’ common room was a comfortable upgrade especially now that it was getting colder outside. It was still a good half-season until the first of Winter but it was already as cold around Obis as on the most frigid of days in Vantok. Overnight, a thin coat of snow had fallen to blanket the world. Sorial recognized as well that all the years of unusual heat had made him unaccustomed to this sort of chill.

At the moment, Sorial was alone, having been asked to remain behind while Myselene conferred with her future husband. She believed Greeg would interpret her willingness to talk without a wizard guardian present as a sign of trust. It was a long meeting and, much as Sorial preferred being awake during these conferences, he was beginning to doze when she returned to the room.

“Earlford has fallen,” she said without preamble. “Greeg just got word of it. A fairly detailed report, actually.”

“Just about on schedule. We guessed he’d reach Syre around the first of Winter. Depending on how much time he spends in Earlford, he may be a week or two early. It’s hard to believe that the whole South is now in Justin’s hands.”

“And a year ago, war was still a distant possibility.”

“And I wasn’t a wizard yet.” Had so little time passed?

“At any rate, according to what Greeg learned, Justin leveled the city. Every bit of wood, which means about 90% of the buildings, was lit aflame. There were reports of strange creatures in the sky, one of which might have been brought down. And a dragon. The city is gone.”

“They defied him, and he made them pay the price. He wants this information to filter to the North, especially Syre.”

“There won’t be a battle at Syre. They’re a strong people but they don’t have the army to face down Justin, and they know it. They’ll agree to whatever terms he offers and consider themselves lucky. And he’ll pick up a lot of recruits, whether voluntarily or involuntarily. By the time he gets here, he’ll be able to match Obis’ twenty-thousand army man-for-man. Plus he has the djinn, the dragon, himself, and your sister. We have ten weeks. Perhaps as few as nine. Perhaps as many as twelve.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Day after tomorrow, I’ll stand atop The Citadel’s outer wall and announce my return to Obis and my intention to take the throne. I won’t say much but I don’t need to; the goal will be to create an instant surge of popularity. Greeg’s men are already spreading rumors. My father was a despot but people got used to the sense of security that flourished during his reign. Many are in favor of having the bloodline continue rather than starting a new dynasty. Fear of the unknown. By the time I make my appearance, curiosity will be rampant. Immediately after, you and I will move into The Citadel. We’ll go to the palace several days later and demand to be seen by the Council of Nobles. We’ll issue an ultimatum giving them a week to confirm me. Our tactics from that point will depend on how things develop. Probably a combination of terror and bribery. Once the confirmation is cleared and Otto - our only legitimate opponent at this point - accepts defeat, we’ll have a double ceremony of marriage and coronation. Then we can get down to the business of defending Obis. Three weeks from now, it should all be over. When do you think Alicia will be back?”

Sorial wished he knew the answer. The rock wyrm had been gone for six weeks. He didn’t know whether that was a good or bad sign. Every day, he checked for an indication of Alicia’s signature but didn’t find anything. “I don’t know. We mentioned the end of the year but that was speculative. She knows she has to be back in time for the battle but she’s probably trying to wring every last bit of knowledge from the library she can.”

“Is she alive?” Myselene knew this had been worrying him for some time now. He had been calmer after Ibitsal but she knew the worm of doubt wasn’t completely dead.

“I think so, and I trust what my mother’s ghost said. There’s something blocking my ability to locate her but I don’t think it’s death. There’s a spot I can’t see into. I don’t understand it but it could have something to do with my lack of experience.” There were times when learning about magic by trial-and-error could be frustrating. What he wouldn’t do for an experienced tutor…

“And if she’s not back by the time Justin attacks?”

“I’ll do what has to be done. He has to be stopped. At all costs.”

“We’re in agreement. I think Greeg is beginning to understand the threat Justin represents although he’s not yet convinced the army is coming north.”

“He’ll know soon enough.” Sorial had no doubts. Justin’s eventual goal of the Otherverse mandated that he conquer the entire continent, although Sorial didn’t understand why. And after that? He didn’t know but he recognized he would have to figure out the answer. If his mother’s words at Ibitsal were to be believed, even Justin’s defeat might not remove the threat: a Lord of Order and Lord of Chaos battling for the power of The Last God and holding sole title to the rights of creation and destruction.

“There’s good news about the disposition of the army regarding my coronation. Greeg assures me that between the two of us, we’ll have more than enough support to overcome any resistance offered by Otto’s bribed officers. Although the overcommander is currently taking a strictly neutral position, about two-thirds of the generals favor Greeg.”

“Are you still concerned about Rathbone?”

Myselene considered before responding. “Not as much as I was several weeks ago but his continued silence makes me wonder what his plans are. Gorton was inordinately concerned about him and felt certain he would make a play for the throne but, at this late stage, that appears unlikely. Even coming forward as Rangarak’s son, the backing isn’t there. Too many influential people are publicly committed to Greeg or Otto.”

“Maybe he likes a life of quiet contemplation.”

Myselene laughed. “Maybe, but that’s not Gorton’s opinion and if he has my father’s disposition, nothing would suit him less. I’d feel better if you could flush him out and learn his intentions.”

“I’ll put it on my list of things to do. First and foremost, I have to prepare for your party in two days. It wouldn’t do for you to be assassinated at your homecoming.”

* * *

Everyone was a threat - at least that’s how Sorial had to look at things. And, with thousands of people expected in the throng waiting to catch a glimpse of the queen, that represented a huge number of potential threats. All it took was one with the intent to act and his mission to Obis could end in disaster. His own public experience informed his wariness, although at least on this occasion Ariel wasn’t in attendance. He knew her signature and it wasn’t close. Still, she wasn’t the only one who could provide a danger to Myselene. Fortunately, The Citadel’s walls were high enough to keep her safe from most thrown objects, but a stone launched by a sling or a well-aimed arrow could still result in death or injury.

Greeg had placed several dozen of his best men atop The Citadel’s wall to defend her and he had archers on the rooftops of all the nearby high buildings. He also had non-uniformed men patrolling the crowd. Sorial was convinced that all that could be done to protect Myselene was being done; he was concerned it wouldn’t be enough. She had rejected his suggestion of a magical shield, not wanting to look “covered in dirt,” which is what it would entail. It was her right to choose appearance over security, but it made Sorial’s duties more difficult.

At the moment, she was atop the wall’s narrow walkway, having climbed the stairs on the inside, but was hidden from the crowd’s view behind a stone column built into the parapet. Although no official announcement had been made about her appearance, the carefully seeded rumors had sprouted. Hundreds were already milling about in the wide plaza outside of The Citadel’s main gate, with more joining every minute. A phalanx of soldiers at the base of the wall was keeping a twenty-foot buffer clear of onlookers.

The Citadel’s walls, although only a fraction of the building’s height, gave an impressive view of Obis. From here, Sorial could appreciate how big and crowded the city was. In terms of geographical area, it was about the same size as Vantok - perhaps even a little smaller - but the number of people packed into it was much greater.  The streets were narrower and more numerous and the buildings were crammed together. The idea of “open space” was reserved for the areas around the palace and The Citadel, as well as a small park to the north of here. In Vantok, nearly all the structures were one or two stories. Here, twice that was the norm. Obis was bursting at its seams with the walls and its position on the promontory disallowing outward expansion. Sorial reflected that Justin’s arrival would bring about a draconian method of population control. Obis relied on wars to keep the number of citizens in check and it had been “too long” (in Greeg’s words) since the last one.

“We need a good war.” Those words, spoken only yesterday by the general, had made it sound like Justin’s impending arrival was a good thing - a holiday of sorts. Sorial was dismayed by the cavalier attitude. In Vantok, battle was to be avoided - a costly and wasteful occupation of time, men, and resources, to be considered only as a last resort when all other avenues failed. In Obis, it was the first option. Diplomats met at the table only once a victor had been declared on the battlefield. Blood was as valuable a currency as gold. But Justin was no minor upstart or bandit chieftain. The soldiers of Obis counted on their walls to keep the citizenry safe. Justin possessed the power to level those walls. His methods would evidence a savagery designed to confound even the battle-hardened veterans of this mighty city.

Myselene was dressed in a way that made her appear as much a warrior as a queen. Gone were the courtesan trappings designed to emphasize her figure and draw the eyes to her cleavage, replaced by an ornamental armor that he supposed would appeal to the masses. She wore a golden vest of chain mail with a deep blue cape draped over her shoulders. The sigil of the House of Rangarak adorned it. Her long hair was swept back and caught in single braid. Her trousers were dyed to match the cape and she wore high, hard boots. The short sword scabbarded at her side wasn’t purely for show. Under the gold plating was cold steel. It was functional, as was the chainmail. Greeg had been in favor of her wearing a helmet, but she had rejected that, claiming she was more easily recognizable without it.

If she was nervous, she showed no signs of it. In fact, her face glowed with anticipation. Sorial contrasted her demeanor with the way he had felt facing the assembled crowd in Vantok when preparing for his demonstration of power. It was hard for him to guess at her thoughts. Although she claimed her primary purpose in this power play was the defeat of Justin and the eventual retaking of Vantok, he imagined it had to be meaningful for her to be presenting herself as the heir to the throne of the city where she had grown up. On the day of the coronation, she would be the most powerful woman in the world. Six seasons ago, she had departed Obis as a landless princess sent south to seduce the bachelor king of a distant city. Now, despite the destruction of that city, she had returned in triumph to claim the crown vacated by the systematic decimation of her family.

A hush fell over the assembled throng as Greeg moved into position to address the crowd. The criers dispersed; they would relay his words to those too far away to hear directly. From beneath his hood, Sorial scanned the crowd with his magical senses, seeking anything that might prove dangerous. If circumstances called for it, he could throw up an earth shield over Myselene in an instant, but the speed of his reflexes limited the effectiveness of that defense.

“Citizens of Obis, welcome,” said Greeg, his voice carrying in the cold morning air. His loud, strong timbre was perfect for public speaking. “Most of you are here because you’ve heard the rumors that a new candidate for the throne of Obis has emerged. I am here, as a former personal guard to King Rangarak and a current member of the military staff, to assure you that this is true. I have willingly put aside my own aspirations and pledged my support to this newcomer. You know her well. She grew up among us. You celebrated her birth and feted her Maturity Day. She is the sole surviving child of the union between King Rangarak and Queen Selene, the final trueborn blood heir to the Crown. I present the Princess Myselene.”

Rapturous applause exploded across the plaza when Myselene emerged from behind the column and bowed to the crowd, which was growing exponentially as word of her return spread like wildfire throughout the city. Sorial, like the common military men around him, was on full alert, but there were no signs of hostility or activity that might presage hostility. Myselene, like all would-be leaders who had not yet done anything to anger their people, enjoyed seeming universal popularity.

She basked in the glory of the cheers, hand-clapping, and foot-stomping. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, but only those closest to her noticed. Few assembled knew her by sight - like all members of the royal family, she had rarely emerged in public - but the name was recognized. Most importantly, she was a link to the past - something lacking in the current uncertain climate. Sorial no longer doubted that Myselene possessed the popularity and political acumen to seize the throne. All she had to do was stay alive. That might be the most difficult thing of all. Enemies crowded on all sides, and Sorial was certain some remained unknown, hidden in the shadows. It appeared that none would reveal themselves on this day, however.