The Halfblood King: Book 1 of the Chronicles of Aertu (30 page)

“That’s a nice trick,” Geldun commented.

“Yeah, that would have been handy in a few of the scrapes we’ve found ourselves in,” Barathol added.

“Whoa!” Geldun exclaimed.  “What happened to you?  You look old as dirt.”  Geldun eluded to the fact that Aleron aged from channeling so much of the green energy at once, though he shielded himself from most of the effects.  Green magic acts to facilitate growth, but for living things with a set lifespan, it eventually brings old age and death.

He glanced at the now rough skin of his exposed hands and replied, “Grandfather warned me about using that form, but I had little choice.”  Now that he had the time to think about it, his knees and back felt a bit more stiff than they used to.  He noticed his companions bleeding from several minor wounds, so he reached out to them and placed a hand on each one’s shoulder.  Healing energy passed through him, into his friends and their bruises and lacerations faded and knitted together.  All that remained of their wounds was a few smears of blood and faint pink lines.  “Now my knees feel better.”

“I feel great now, but you still look old,” Barathol informed him. 

Geldun nodded in agreement.  “Fifty, at least.”

Aleron looked to his weathered hands again and said, “Time to try something else.”  He concentrated once more and a faint yellow-green glow bathed his form.  His companions watched as his facial features reverted to those of a much younger man.  “How about now?” he asked the pair.

“Much better,” Geldun answered, “but you still seem older, just not old.” 

Aleron began to realize that the combination of green and yellow magic works to regenerate, but it would not reverse aging beyond healthy adulthood.  “Well, we don’t have time for anything else right now.  I know where they are holding Ellie and it looks like it will be a fight to get her out.  Let me cover up this mess; that will stall them for a little while.”  He returned to the doorway, kicked a stray arm to the inside and drew the door closed.  The once flowing symbols now stood as raised letters, unmoving.  With a slight gesture of his right hand, the bloodstains of the doorway dissolved in a spray of blue sparks.  With another gesture, he reactivated the wards and the script began morphing as it had when they arrived.  Turning back to them, he said, “The stairwell is just around the bend, to the right, but we’ll run a full circle first, to cover all these tracks.  I’ll take up the rear, this time, so let’s go.”  They formed up and began to jog down the corridor, Geldun on the right, with Barathol slightly behind and to the left, covering his shield side with the pike.  Aleron followed, with swords drawn and casting a curtain of blue energy behind them, incinerating everything they passed and leaving a smooth layer of fine, dusty ash behind.  He had many things to think about, as they ran; Mahuizohm’s mind held more than just Eilowyn’s whereabouts.

 

 

Chapter 32

 

Shilwezday, Day 26, Squash Moon. 8765 Sudean Calendar

 

Zormat started from his meditation, Mahuizohm’s anguish resounding in his mind like a clanging gong.  Someone killed the priest and was none too gentle about it, shredding the man’s mind in the process.  An enemy of such power did not bode well for the cause of the One True God.  They sailed the open sea again, having exited the Wabani Inlet, as the Adari referred to it, several days past.  He could sense the power of Zadehmal now, drawing him north with visions of fire and ice.  He was too close now to think of turning back.  The Kolixtlani would have to sort this out for themselves.  Once he had his father’s weapon, he would free him and return his father’s power to him.  Then, he thought, none on Aertu could stand against them. 
The time is close now Father, to bring the One True God back to his dominion.

***

The ancient tutor left her and Eilowyn waited for the mid-day meal that followed her lesson.   She felt refreshed by the cool breeze blowing through the open windows.  Kolixtla is a bit warmer than Arundell, but a good sight cooler than the sweltering Cop-Castia border she recently passed through.  Attendants soon returned with food.  She noted that there seemed to be more and larger trays than in the days prior.  The servants moved to the edge of the room just as two guards posted inside the doorway.  An official stepped inside, shouted something in Kolixtlani about a prince, the rest she didn’t catch and then stepped to the side and bowed deeply.  The female attendants bowed as well and Eilowyn took this as a cue, leaving her chair and genuflecting in the manner of Sudean ladies.  She noted trousers of purple silk, richly embroidered with silver thread, bloused over tall boots of soft red leather.

“Rise, please, my Princess!” the newcomer announced.  “Bowing is for those below my station, not my future wife!”  Bristling at the implication of his words, she looked up to see a tall and handsome man, with olive complexion.  The oddly slanted eyes and high cheekbones punctuated by a proud aquiline nose, which appeared to have been broken at least once.  He wore a short-sleeved gambeson of the same purple cloth and silver embroidery, belted at the waist and extending to mid-thigh.  One of the curious, cleaver-like, Kolixtlani swords hung from the belt and his thick muscled arms sported splinted vambraces of fine leather and gold inlaid steel.  The man was obviously a fighter and not some coddled prince.  He barked something else in his native tongue, causing the servants and the official to recover and then the official proceeded to direct the servants about their business.   “Allow me to introduce myself,” he said, reaching out to help her rise.  She took his hands graciously and he continued, “I am Prince
Ehacatl, heir to the throne of Kolixtlan.  Please, allow me to seat you.”  She let him lead her to her seat and push in her chair.  She picked up the scent of fresh sweat on a clean body and horses, as if he only just finished exercising.  He took the seat opposite her and the servants immediately sprang into action, placing lap cloths, pouring drinks and delivering the first course.  Noting the slight crinkle of her nose, he explained, “I must apologize, that I allowed my riding practice to extend too late to afford time to bathe.”

“That is not at all a concern, my Lord Prince.  I must say you have a strong command of my native tongue.  I apologize that I cannot say the same for my mastery of yours.”

“That is quite all right, my Princess.  I realize that others do not consider our language important enough to teach.  That is an unfortunate situation that I hope to see remedied in the near future.  Those raised in the royal house are taught the languages of our neighbors, as a matter of course,” he continued.  “I must say, you are much lovelier than I even hoped.”

“Thank you, Lord Prince,” she replied, blushing at the compliment.

“Please, call me Ehacatl.  May I have the privilege to address you by your given name?

“Yes, of course Eh…acatl,” she stumbled slightly at the unfamiliar pronunciation.  “I am called Eilowyn.” 

“Eilowyn…I like the sound of that.  It is fitting for one beautiful as you are, like a jewel.”  The prince continued to compliment her, as they enjoyed the mid-day meal together.  Despite her reservations at being captive and in love with another, she found it difficult to dislike this handsome, gracious warrior.  He answered her questions about Kolixtlan and she likewise, answered many of the questions he had about Sudea, carefully guarding anything that she thought useful against her people, but giving trivial information freely.  She learned that he served as commander to an elite cavalry company that often engaged Sudean forces in the northern reaches of the country.

“Perhaps you have met my betrothed?” she suggested.  “He is a marine and has spent much time on that front.  Tall, blonde hair and moustache, he wields two cutlasses, normally.”  She noted a glint of recognition in his expression and took some pleasure in that, but the prince said nothing to acknowledge her comment.

“I hope to convince you to accept a new life here in our fair kingdom, my Princess.  Neither the King nor I will force you into an unwanted marriage.  As a hostage, you are too valuable to ever trade away and your life here will be tedious, at best.  As my Princess and someday, my Queen, you will be responsible for ending the hostilities between our peoples.  For that you will be loved by all and Kolixtlan will be at your feet.”

***

“This is likely to get ugly,” Aleron said as they reentered the stairwell.  “They know we’re here now and it won’t be long until the whole palace is on alert.  As soon as those soldiers fail to return with us in tow, the alarm will go up.”

“Do you think they’ll find the bodies?” Geldun asked, as they sped up the gently curved staircase, toward the roof.

“Not for awhile,” he replied.  “They will have to find a priest that knows the wards or is stronger than the one who set them.  Either way, that will take some time.” 

They burst out through the bulkhead and onto the roof.  Barathol uttered an oath, as he turned left in time to duck a sword strike.  Geldun peeled right to engage a second guard.  Aleron had opportunity to survey the situation as he exited the bulkhead and scanned the entire rooftop.  A pair of guards placed themselves to either side of the opening but the speed of the marine’s exit provided enough surprise to delay their attacks on the trio.  Barathol beat back his opponent, pushing until he rounded the bulkhead, forcing his adversary back to back with the other guard.  Both guards carried short double-edged swords, widest at the chisel-pointed tip and tall skinny shields.  The weapons, sandals, segmented cuirasses and ptureged skirts, leaving the legs bare, except for greaves, marked these men as foot soldiers.  Kolixtlani cavalry wore boots, trousers and lamellar armor and wielded longer swords of the same cleaver-like style.  Geldun held his opponent at bay, neither gaining nor losing quarter.  Mere moments sufficed for Aleron to take in the scene and deliver twin bolts of blue lightning from the tips of his cutlasses.  The smell of charred flesh filled the air as the soldiers fell, the gaping wounds in their chests smoking at the edges.   Barathol and Geldun stopped to catch their breaths and watched, as Aleron’s eyes seemed to glaze over.  The bulkhead faded into a cloud of white mist, too bright to look at directly.  They shielded their eyes until the glare died down and when they were able to look again, they saw the stairwell plugged with a solid slab of shiny black stone.

“How did…Never mind,” Geldun said, as Barathol stood goggle-eyed.

“Same thing as when I turn us to ravens,” Aleron replied to Geldun’s unfinished question.  “Air is substance too, so I changed stone, wood and some air into a slab of black glass a yard thick.  It will be a while before they have easy access to this rooftop again.  I got a good idea of where they have Ellie.  See the tower to the center?”  The others turned to where he pointed and voiced affirmation.  Several hundred yards distant, a tall spire rose over one hundred feet above the red-tiled rooftops of the sprawling palace complex.  “Let’s go then,” he stated, as they veered back into their raven disguises.

Flapping into the sky, they saw soldiers, priests, priestesses and acolytes scurrying about in the courtyard below.  Obviously, word of their arrival was out.  Several runners moved out in different directions, including the tower that was the object of their attention. 
“We need to move fast, before they bundle her up and hide her somewhere else.”

***


Your Highness
,” a messenger shouted through the doorway, as he plowing into the suddenly lowered pikes of the guards.  Eilowyn could not understand much else of what the young soldier managed to get out between gasping to catch his breath.  Something about an attack and she thought she caught the High Priest’s name in there as well.  Ehacatl leapt to his feet and shouted orders to the servants.  She recognized her own name and something about safety or security among the shouts. 

The official who had accompanied the Prince sprang into action at Ehacatl’s command and came to her, saying, “You must come with me, My Lady.  The palace is under some sort of attack and I must ensure your safety.”  He shouted orders in Kolixtlani and her attendants joined him in escorting her off to a back room, centrally located, with no windows.  It had the look of a well appointed prison cell and Eilowyn guessed it to be just that, for important prisoners, like uncooperative hostages.  A single small bed, one chair, a reading desk and a foot locker made up the furnishings of the room.  The two women guided her through the door by her elbows, while the official said, “You will be safe in here, My Lady, until we take care of this situation.  He closed the door behind them and Eilowyn heard the muffled clank of the lock setting.  She heard much shouting, accompanied by the stamp of numerous feet and the clank of weapons and armor, only somewhat muffled by the thick iron banded wooden door.  The attendants continued to pull her toward the back of the room, away from the door.  As they sat her in the lone chair, she sensed the noise subside, replaced by cold silence.  The soldiers on the other side were waiting, patiently and quietly, for whatever might come.

***

Well, we can’t change back here, now can we? 
Geldun observed, as the ravens scrabbled for a hold on the steeply pitched tile roof.

And if we fly through a window, they’ll likely kill us as we change,
Barathol added.

We’ll go in through the roof,
Aleron replied. 
Now look away this time, so I don’t blind you again.  We’ll change back when we get somewhere with better footing.  Ellie is somewhere in this upper level, so we need to go through the ceiling. 
A portion of the terracotta roof tiles glowed bight white and then dissipated into mist.  Aleron hopped into the dark attic space, followed by his companions.  Something made him glance up to see several small sets of eyes glinting in the faint light afforded by the opening Aleron made.  He croaked at the bats, but they only kept staring at the three birds that had no business disturbing their rest. 
She’s over here, I think,
he said, hopping across the open ceiling joists,
right
under here I’m pretty sure.

Other books

Masks by Laurie Halse Anderson
Final Encore by Scotty Cade
Memory Hunted by Christopher Kincaid
The Age of Chivalry by Hywel Williams
Tamed by Rebecca Zanetti