The Shadow Throne (17 page)

W
ith Mendenwal’s armies in full retreat, I climbed to my feet again and loaded the chain mail into Mystic’s saddlebag. I refastened the brigandine around my chest and sheathed my sword in preparation to ride back down the ridge. But somewhere in the fields far behind me, I heard a familiar voice calling my name. Looking for me.

“Fink?”

I grabbed my sword and ran toward his voice. He wasn’t much taller than some of the grasses here, but he continued calling for me.

Finally I saw him, limping heavily and with his hands bound in front of him. He had a torn shirt and a dark bruise on one cheek, but otherwise, he seemed all right.

I started running toward him, but when he noticed me, he only started shaking his head and sobbing. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “Jaron, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He already had my forgiveness, and always would have, but I needed to know what had happened.

“I told them about Falstan. That’s why they weren’t here before. They let Mendenwal get swallowed up in the lake and waited until it was over.”

“Who did?”

“Vargan’s army. I’m so sorry.”

As he spoke those words, I heard a sound growing from the base of the hill upon which Fink and I stood. Horses snorted while their hoofbeats pounded against stone and earth. We were not alone, and I figured it was a safe guess that whoever was coming was no friend of mine.

In the distance, a mass of mounted soldiers was approaching. Even from here I could see their black livery coats crossed in red. Having been surrounded by them for so long, the uniform of Avenia was painfully familiar to me. Far ahead of them was an advance group on horseback, and I knew nearly all of them. At the lead, King Vargan was accompanied by Commander Kippenger and Avenia’s standard bearers. Another man rode with them, not in Avenia’s colors, but dressed instead in the fine robes of a nobleman. I squinted to see him better. It couldn’t be. . . .

But it was. Bevin Conner was riding directly beside the king of Avenia. Conner pointed me out first, and Vargan turned course straight for me. I told Fink to get behind me, and then withdrew my sword, eager to test its sharpness. For all of Conner’s arrogant claims that everything he had done was for the benefit of our country, this was a complete betrayal of Carthya. Whatever bargain he had made to ride beside Vargan now, he could never justify this treason, even to himself.

“Let’s just run,” Fink said.

“There’s nowhere to go,” I muttered back to him. For as far as I could see ahead, there was nothing but red and black uniforms growing on the horizon. And there was nothing behind us but a sheer cliff and a long fall.

My sword was ready when they stopped in front of us. I hadn’t yet decided which of them to attack, since I’d likely only get one target before the rest of them stopped me. It would’ve been satisfying to get Conner, but the sneer on Vargan’s face made me furious, and Kippenger had actively participated in the abuse I’d suffered in Vargan’s camp. I owed each of them a response.

Vargan greeted me first. “King Jaron, how nice it is to see you again. My apologies for being late to all your fun with Mendenwal.”

“I wish you’d have come. I would’ve loved for you to meet their fate. Preferred it, actually.”

Vargan arched an eyebrow. “Is there no one left?”

“Not unless they have some excellent swimmers. Either way, you won’t have their services any longer.”

“Other soldiers from Mendenwal are here in your country,” he said. “You haven’t defeated them all.”

“No,” I said. “Not yet. But my captain and I have a bet. Whoever wins the most battles gets to melt your crown for the gold. I’m planning to win, since we have business to settle — I made a promise to that effect.”

Vargan laughed, echoed by the men who flanked him. He said, “I am eager to see you try to destroy my great armies, boy king.”

If it were only me on this hill, my decision would’ve been made. I would’ve rushed at Vargan with my sword held high, letting the consequences fall where they would. But Fink was still behind me, and I couldn’t abandon him.

“You have a difficult decision now,” Kippenger said. “Do you attack us and lose that boy behind you? Or try to escape, in which case you will also lose that boy.”

“All we want is you,” Vargan told me. “Lower your sword and we’ll let the boy go.”

“Is nothing beneath you?” I asked. “He’s just a boy, not a pawn in our talks.”

“A boy who I’ve heard means a great deal to you.” Vargan glanced down at Fink, eager for any depth of cruelty if it could touch me. “What will you give me to save his life?”

“A deep cut with my sword,” I responded. “Carthya will never bow to you, Vargan.”

“Carthya already bows to me! Did you think my offer to let you keep your throne would last forever? No, Jaron, you had your opportunity. Things have changed. Now, Lord Conner will be the king of Carthya, subject to my Avenian empire. Our agreement is made.”

Conner arched his neck and stared down at me. So he would have his throne after all.

“He’s no king,” I said. “Rulers aren’t made just because they sit on the throne. A true king serves his people, protects them, and sees to their happiness if he can.”

Conner’s lip curled when he asked, “What about dying for his people?”

My eyes darted sideways a moment. “Yes, he would die, if necessary. Though I hope we’re speaking about your death, and not mine.”

“King Vargan and I have made some agreements,” Conner said in his mocking tone. “They will ensure one of us a long and prosperous life. Can you guess which of us that is?”

I turned to Vargan. “You might be a horrible king and, for that matter, a horrible person. But Conner is worse. He’s a traitor and a murderer. Be careful in your bargains.”

“If I’m accused of being a traitor, I may as well act that way,” Conner replied. “And as to your other accusation, I intend to be the cause of only one more death, one I’ve been anticipating for months.”

Mine.

Vargan’s smile revealed his hunger for just that. “You’re trapped here, Jaron, with a cliff at your back and thousands of my men in every other direction. There’s no escape this time.”

A quick scan of the hills revealed the full size of his massive army, beyond anything I could hope to defeat. Most of them were still moving toward the valley, to where my army was stationed with no idea of what was coming their way. Just as we had blocked Mendenwal’s escape, they would soon block ours.

“You will come with Lord Conner and myself to Farthenwood,” Vargan said.

“Absolutely not.” I shook my head to emphasize my refusal. “Conner’s already taken me to Farthenwood once. Trust me, he isn’t nearly as good a host as he pretends to be.”

Conner laughed darkly. “I’d have thought you’d be happy at the news. To see your reign end where it began.”

“Farthenwood is where you met your downfall, Conner. It is not where I will meet mine.” My eyes settled on Vargan’s puckered face. “If we must talk, then let’s do it at Drylliad. There’s no reason for us to go to Farthenwood.”

“Of course there is.” Vargan chuckled now, as if he and Conner knew a joke they had yet to share with me. “You chose Farthenwood yourself. Do you remember when?”

The message I had sent with the Avenian thief. He took it to Vargan instead of keeping his promise to me. That was their joke.

Conner seemed almost disappointed. “I expected more from you, Jaron.”

“And I expected less from you.” I grinned. “Though I suppose if you and Vargan combined your brainpower, you might have enough wits for me. Almost.”

Vargan stiffened at the insult. “I will see you hanged this very week, and kill everyone who stands with you, just as I did to Imogen.”

My heart pounded at the mention of her name, but I finally saw a purpose in her death. No matter what else happened in this war, I could not allow anyone else I loved to die. I had to find a way to see this through.

With that thought, my eyes shifted from Conner to Vargan. “I understand your interest in hanging me,” I said. “But first I must carry out my promise to destroy you. And I might need a little more time for that, now that I have to add Conner to my list.” I gestured to Commander Kippenger. “Probably you too, by the way.”

“Take him,” Vargan ordered.

Kippenger rode for me, but I grabbed a knife from my belt and hurled it at Conner. The flat edge struck his horse, who bucked hard and startled Kippenger’s horse. Both Kippenger and Conner fell to the ground, which created even greater confusion amongst the animals. I turned and pushed Fink forward with me. Somewhere behind us, Vargan screamed orders to chase us as we raced toward the cliff.

“They’re coming!” Fink cried.

I couldn’t go down the steep trail I had come up before. The risk of someone catching up to us there was too great. But as we got to the ledge, I knew only one option remained, and it wasn’t good.

“How tight are your hands tied?” I asked him.

He pulled at them, but there was no give. “Very.”

“Put them over my shoulders.” I ducked low enough for him to comply while I grabbed the rope that I’d partially burned for Mendenwal’s army. I knotted it, then wrapped it two or three times around my waist. There was no time to do this properly.

Fink tried to wiggle off me. “No, Jaron. Please don’t.”

“Yes, Fink. Close your eyes if you must.”

Kippenger entered the ridge first and swiped at me with his sword. It stung my arm but I was already running. With Fink on my back and screaming in my ear, I ran off the side of the ledge and into thin air.

O
ver the history of my life, the stupidest thing I had ever attempted was at age seven, when I tested the power of an old trebuchet against a standing target on castle grounds. Darius and I had just had a lesson on how catapults work, and I was curious. However, my aim was off and instead of hitting the target, the boulder put a hole through the roof of my father’s private apartments. Fortunately, the rooms were empty at the time apart from one unlucky servant who saved his life by diving through a latrine into the fetid waters below.

It
had
been the stupidest thing I’d ever done, that is, until I ran off a cliff with Fink’s arms around my neck and a rope knotted around my waist. In the last second before I jumped, it occurred to me that I hadn’t verified if the knot binding the rope to the tree was tied tightly enough, or how long the rope even was. Would Fink and I crash into the floor of the valley before the rope pulled tight?

However, I had Vargan’s men chasing me, so my fate was certain if we didn’t jump. I only hoped if this failed that my death would be quick. I hated pain.

As it turned out, the saints may have listened when I begged for their help before. Or at least, we didn’t crash to the valley floor. But the devils certainly had their fun with me when we met the length of the rope.

The first thing I felt was the rope pulling tight against my waist and then cinching like a noose against my rib cage. The next sensation was Fink’s arms locked against my throat. It was the only way he could hold on when I jumped, but he was choking me nonetheless. From there, we collided into the side of the cliff wall. I took the brunt of it with my shoulder, which was hardly helpful in keeping hold of the rope — the one thing still keeping us from falling any farther. The rope had been wrapped two or three times around my waist, but no longer. Once we hit the cliff wall, only then did I realize my palms were stinging with rope burn.

We were alive, but our troubles were far from over. We were about halfway down the cliff wall — too high to jump down and too dangerous to climb up. Several of my men had seen what we did and were shouting cries of alarm from below. Overhead, Vargan realized he had been spotted. But I felt vibrations on the rope from above and knew they wouldn’t leave until they had done their best to ruin my escape, such as it was.

“Grab on to the wall!” I yelled to Fink. “They’re cutting the rope!”

I rotated his body in front of mine, then braced against the wall while he transferred his weight from me to the rock. Once he did, I got myself in a better position, but as I moved, the rope from above us fell. I would’ve gone with it if Fink didn’t have his foot tucked around my weaker right leg.

Vargan peered over the edge. “I’m told you haven’t climbed since returning from the pirates. You’ll fall from there.”

I didn’t answer. It took enough of my concentration not to make any move that proved him right.

Vargan growled at me, but by then my archers were taking aim at him and he had no choice but to run. I yelled down that Carthya needed to gather for a quick retreat. I had seen Vargan’s army. We were no match for their numbers.

Orders were shouted in all directions below me, but one voice rose higher than the others. Mott.

“We’ll get you both down from there. Hold on!” he yelled.

“Their army is coming,” I cried. “Go!”

But Mott ignored me and instead called out for help from climbers who could get up to me. It was humiliating. Before Roden had broken my leg, I could’ve scaled this wall in minutes. Now, I was frozen upon it.

I twisted enough to reach a second, smaller knife attached to my boot, and then used it on the rope tying Fink’s hands. Once they were free, he was able to get a stronger grip on the wall, though his knuckles were white and his face was showing the strain on his muscles.

“Listen to me,” I said to Fink. “Climbing up is one thing, but most falling happens on the way down. Every move you make is important. You don’t get to be stupid when stepping down, not even once.”

“Stupid?” Fink cried. “Like jumping off a cliff? Because that’s a really, really big step down, Jaron!”

He was still too panicked to make safe choices. The wall directly below us was too smooth for us to scale down, and the climbers could never get up to rescue us. Far to our right was a tree rooted into the cliff. It wasn’t thick, but it would handle our weight. I still had my end of the rope that I’d used to jump. If I tied it to the tree trunk, it’d get us pretty close to the floor.

I cocked my head at the tree. “That’s where we’re going.” Then I called down to Mott. “I am ordering your retreat! Vargan is bringing his army right into this valley. We’ll be trapped if you don’t get out!”

“Nobody is leaving you!” Mott yelled back.

It put a terrible strain on my shoulders, but I swung around as far as I dared. Although we were at some distance from each other, I tried to make Mott see the earnestness in my face. “Leave,” I told him. “Mott, these are my orders. Make everyone go or they will die. I’ll find a way down.”

This time, Mott nodded. He joined the others who were issuing orders and directed the commanders to move our men out of the valley and away from the lake. Once he had them in motion, he returned to the base of the cliff and called back, “Now you have your way. But I will not leave until you’re with me.”

It was my turn to nod back to him. I handed the rope to Fink and told him what to do if I fell. I hoped my arms and my left leg could keep me on the cliff to move horizontally, but that wasn’t certain. My muscles were significantly weakened from the old injury to my leg and my imprisonment in Vargan’s camp. My hands stung from the jump just now and my shoulder throbbed worse than it should have. I truly didn’t know if I could keep myself up here.

So we took each move slowly. I avoided putting any weight on my right leg, and chose my holds carefully. Then I gave Fink specific instructions for each hold he must make. That was the harder part since he was smaller and didn’t have my reach. We were unimpressive in our speed, but at least we were moving. With a little patience and a great deal of endurance, we would reach the tree. And once there, it would be a simple matter to tie off the rope and slide down to the floor.

But nothing in my life was ever simple. And this time, it wasn’t only me who would suffer. Beyond the well of this valley, exactly where my retreating army would be, the sounds of a great battle had begun. Vargan’s army had met them. We had failed to retreat in time.

Mott was aware of it too, and urged us to get off the cliff as quickly as possible. I pushed Fink to move a little faster, but his muscles were already shaking against the strain. I tried to distract him, asking how he had come to be captured by Vargan.

“After I left Bymar, I thought it’d be no trouble to come through Avenia again,” Fink said. “Nobody bothered me before. But Vargan recruited nearly all of Erick’s thieves into his army, and when I tried to pass through the border into Carthya, one of them recognized me. They knew I was with you now, so they sent me directly to Vargan for questioning.”

I showed Fink his next hold on the wall, then asked, “Other than my plans for Falstan Lake, did you tell Vargan anything else?”

“Yes.” Fink smiled. “I told him he didn’t have a chance of winning this war against you. That’s when he got angry.”

We continued making our way toward the tree. I found it impossible to ignore the sounds of the battle and feared what must be happening. It was torture to hear the cries of injured men, listen to orders being called, and cringe at the clang of sword against sword, all while I remained trapped on this wall. At best, I was useless, and at worst, a deadly distraction.

Below us, Mott called that Mystic had come down from the ledge on his own. I squinted down long enough to see my horse below, and then scowled at him. Maybe it would’ve been better to take Fink down the trail. Probably not — Vargan undoubtedly would’ve followed. But Mystic didn’t seem any worse for his journey, while Fink and I were bruised, exhausted, and still inching sideways for our lives.

“I can’t go any farther,” Fink finally said.

I looked back at him. We were getting close to the tree now, just four or five careful holds away.

“You can do this,” I told him.

“I can’t! I’m telling you, Jaron, if you make me keep going, I’ll fall!”

“Listen to me,” I said firmly. “If you fall from here, it’ll hurt a lot more than you’re hurting now, and you will die. Once you’re dead, I’ll tell the saints to refuse you entrance into the afterlife. You’ll wander forever as a spirit, never getting a moment’s rest.”

My threat worked. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said.

“You know I’ll do it. So you’ll hold on, or else.” Then I gritted my teeth and moved faster. With a good leg, I could’ve been there in less than a minute, and Fink’s muscles were shaking uncontrollably now. As a test, I put enough weight on my right leg to help me skirt a little higher toward the tree, but it collapsed beneath me. I lost all my footing and the grip of my right hand. All that kept me on the cliff was the knuckle of my left forefinger, which I had wormed through the curve of a small root that arched away from the earth.

Fink cried out when I slipped, and somewhere far below, Mott ran to stand beneath me. But I only cursed and pulled myself back into place.

“Don’t do that again!” Fink yelled.

“Hush!”

Angry with myself now for a weakness I still couldn’t conquer, I climbed more deliberately, and made it to the tree. I tossed the rope around the trunk, knotted it tightly, and then wound it beneath my arms. I swung over to Fink and grabbed on to him, then literally peeled him off the cliff and back to the tree.

Once there, I detached myself from the rope, then wound it around him and carefully lowered him down the side of the cliff. When he reached the bottom, Mott pressed him against the side of the cliff where he was safest. The battle continued to rage outside the valley well, and if it moved toward us, it would quickly absorb us into the fighting. I needed to join them — but I felt my strength lagging. It really had been too long since I’d climbed, and I hadn’t appreciated the demands it placed on muscles I rarely used otherwise.

“Get on the rope, Jaron!” Mott ordered.

This time, I felt no resentment for his attempt to order me and took hold of the rope again. But I was dropping faster than I wanted, mostly because with my tired arms it was hard to keep control of the fall. And when I was farther up than I ought to have been, my hold failed completely and I simply fell. I half landed on Mott, who had been anticipating my crash. It saved me from a major injury, though I still collapsed on my weaker leg. It sent a wave of pain up my spine and I grabbed on to the leg to quiet the tremors. But I said nothing.

“Can you walk?” Mott asked, coming to his feet.

I wasn’t entirely sure if I could. Fink ran over to me and put his shoulders under my arm. With his help and Mott’s, I stood and found my balance. Mott helped me into Mystic’s saddle, then I rode far enough into the valley to see the outer edges of the brawl. The bulk of the fighting had already moved away from us, but too many of my men had already fallen here. We weren’t fighting a battle; we were targets for slaughter.

When Mott and Fink rode up beside me, I asked, “Where is the fighting moving?”

Mott scanned the horizon. “Back to higher ground. Away from the lake.”

“Toward our camp?” My eyes widened in horror. “Tobias and Amarinda are still up there!”

“We can’t make it past the battle to warn them,” Mott said.

I steered Mystic around. “We’ll climb up where the dam used to be.”

“You exploded most of that hillside,” Mott said. “Are you sure anything is there to be climbed?”

“If it isn’t, we’ll build a way to the top,” I said. “We’ve got to warn them before Vargan arrives.”