Avondale V (22 page)

Chapter 39

Rafe

His men hurried to find a way for Rafe to get down from the palace rooftop. He knew that Leonosis couldn’t be trusted, and there was no way he was going to remove the heavy beams locking the main entrance just to open the door to get out of the palace.

“We found a rope ladder,” said one of the officers. “Will that do?”

“It will have to,” Rafe said.

He wished more than ever that Tiberius was there with him. Rafe had faced dangerous men in combat, but his skill was such that he didn’t fear another man, one on one with a sword. But something powerful, beyond what Rafe could even fathom, had torn down the city wall. Perhaps it was Leonosis, perhaps his queen, or some other sinister being that had yet to be discovered, but there was one thing Rafe was certain of—he wouldn’t just be fighting a man with a sword.

“He is not here,” Earl Ageus shouted. He was leaning out over the edge of the wall, looking down on his son. Rafe thought he could hear a note of desperation in his voice.

“Then I shall darken the city with your blood, old man,” Leonosis snarled.

Rafe flung the end of the long rope ladder over the edge and swung himself out over the wall.

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” he shouted.

The men of Avondale were cheering in earnest now, shouting and whistling. Rafe stopped about halfway down the ladder and raised one hand.

“Men of Avondale,” he shouted. “Hear me now.”

He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but he knew he was going to his death, and this was his last chance to encourage the men who had fought so hard for him. He cleared his throat, hoping that his nerves didn’t get the best of his voice. He was just about to speak when he saw a little animal circling in the air, far behind Leonosis. It was watching them but staying out of sight of the troops on the ground who were staring up at the palace. It was a small animal, but it filled Rafe with hope. He could almost hear the chattering trill of Lexi’s little pet and he knew his friends were nearby.

“We have not just fought a rogue king this day,” Rafe shouted. “We have stood against evil itself. And years from now, when people tell the story of our lives, they will swell with pride at the courage, strength, and resolve of our city. Many of us may die today, but none of us will ever be forgotten. Follow your earl now, and be strong. Obey Earl Ageus and your officers as if you were obeying the sword master of Avondale himself.”

“Come down,” called Leonosis. “Are you a politician now, set to bore us to death with your words?”

He waved a hand, and the rope strands just above Rafe’s hands began to break. He hurried, trying to climb down, and was almost close enough to jump when the rope above him parted. He felt the rope ladder give way, and he spread his feet. The impact was sudden and harder than Rafe expected, but he let his knees buckle and threw himself forward, moving with the momentum rather than trying to resist it. He rolled over one shoulder and came up on his feet, drawing his sword in one smooth movement that brought a raucous cheer from the palace.

There were men between Leonosis and Rafe, all with weapons drawn. Rafe was not wearing armor or even a helmet, and the soldiers could have fallen on him en masse, but they held their ground. He almost thought he saw a grudging respect in their eyes.

“You fall well, whelp,” Leonosis said. “It seems I shall have the pleasure of banishing you not only from Avondale, but from this life, as well.”

“The only pleasure you’ll find is the sweet taste of steel, Leonosis.”

“My, my, my, your tongue is sharp, but your common sense is as dull as this conversation. Make way for the dead son of a legend.”

The soldiers parted, but Rafe stayed where he was. Leonosis stared at him; his eyes were dull and glassy, but they studied him so intently that the poor health of the king seemed almost like an act.

“This is your last chance, brave warriors from Sparlan Citadel,” Rafe shouted. “Flee the city, and you shall live.”

Some of the men laughed, but most didn’t. Rafe could see them gritting their teeth in indecision. He had seen enough death, and while the king’s soldiers were at that moment his enemies, they were also his countrymen. He didn’t want to see them die, but he couldn’t save them if they wouldn’t turn on their king.

“Run!” he screamed.

A few of the soldiers stumbled back, then the first bomb hit. Tiberius’ war ship was hovering several hundred feet away; only its bulbous balloon sail was visible, but the bomb that came hurtling toward the palace was all too easy to see as it left a trail of greasy black smoke in its wake. The bomb crashed into the back of the formation of soldiers. There was a wide plaza in front of the earl’s palace, and Rafe guessed that nearly three hundred soldiers were lined up in formation, waiting for orders to attack. Two dozen were hit by the thick oil and burned alive. Several others were wounded by the attack.

Chaos erupted. There were screams of pain, shouts of panic, cheering by the men in the palace, and then, as several of the king’s soldiers moved to attack Rafe, a volley of crossbow bolts fell into the men closest to him. Most of the soldiers were running, looking for cover from either the crossbow attack or the fire bombs. It reminded Rafe of an ant hill that had been kicked by a child. The surprised ants would scurry around in a manic fashion, and the king’s soldiers seemed to be doing the same thing.

There were shouts from officers, but the second bomb was already streaking toward the plaza. Rafe would have returned to the palace, but there was no way for him to get inside. He heard banging as the soldiers on the other three sides of the palace sought a way in. Crossbow strings thrummed, and the wounded screamed in pain, then the second fire bomb hit and exploded.

Rafe watched it all, taking in the shock and horror of the situation and knowing that it was far from over. Leonosis had disappeared from the plaza, and Rafe was forced to use his sword as one of the king’s soldiers attacked him. The soldier had a saber and a shield, but his training was elementary, and Rafe anticipated his attacks, swaying out of the blade’s path. Then a crossbow bolt smashed into the soldier’s helmet, penetrating through steel, skull, and brain. The soldier dropped, dead before he hit the ground, and Rafe felt only sadness.

There was no battle lust, no ringing in his ears as his blood pulsed through his veins in time to a song of war. There was only death and madness all around him. A crash from the servants’ side of the palace told Rafe that the soldiers had smashed through the palace’s defenses. His own men would be dying soon, their screams of agony, along with their blood, mixing with that of the king’s soldiers, who fought for a mad man.

A rending sound filled the air, like the sound of fabric being torn. Rafe looked up and saw the balloon sail on Tiberius’ war ship collapsing. His heart almost stopped beating, and without a thought for his own safety, Rafe sprinted across the plaza. There was smoke and blood everywhere, but no one tried to stop the commander of Avondale. He ran past several soldiers from Sparlan Citadel, fully expecting to be challenged, but they merely looked away.

When he reached the far side of the plaza, Leonosis was nowhere in sight. He raced into the street beyond, then saw an ivy-covered lattice on the side of one of the tall homes. He sheathed his sword and scrambled up the shaky lattice. The roof of the home was tiled with hardened clay shingles, and he pulled himself up onto the sloping roof. It took Rafe a moment to find a place on the building where he felt steady enough to stand, then he looked across the rooftops and breathed a sigh of relief. The war ship had fallen onto a home; the rough bottom of the vessel had broken through the roof and stuck fast, but there was movement on the ship.

Rafe looked back down at the lattice, trying to find a way down from the rooftop, when he noticed someone standing in a narrow niche between two shops across the avenue. He recognized the long hair and willowy figure instantly. He scrambled down the building, throwing caution to the wind. There were king’s soldiers in the street, but they were fleeing, not fighting. Rafe ignored them and ran to Olyva’s side.

“What are you doing here?” he asked breathlessly.

“I’m here to lead you out of the city,” she explained. “The volcano is going to erupt at any moment.”

As if to emphasize what she was saying, the ground shook, and smoke began to billow from the center of the volcano’s cone. Rafe looked out over the city. He didn’t have a good vantage point, but he thought he should be able to see traces of blue water at the center of the city—there was nothing but billowing smoke.

“We can’t leave the earl,” Rafe said.

“Or his troops. Help me get them out of the palace.”

“Our best bet is the main entrance. Stay close to me.”

They ran back into the plaza, avoiding the fires and the swarms of soldiers who were looking for someone to lead them. On the roof of the palace, fighting had broken out as a group of soldiers rushed across the causeway that led to the wall. Rafe waved his arms and shouted for his men to open the doors. He could hear chaos inside the palace. Then another tremor shook the entire city hard, and a crevasse opened across the plaza. For a moment the fighting stopped, the shouts died, and everyone was silent.

“If you want to live,” Olyva shouted. “Come with me!”

“Lead the way,” Rafe said as the door of the palace burst open and the earl’s war band came streaming out.

Olyva turned and hurried back across the plaza. Rafe pointed to her and shouted at his men.

“Follow her—she’ll lead you to safety.”

The men did as they were told, and many of the king’s soldiers fell in with the throng of the earl’s war band, courtiers, and palace servants. Rafe looked anxiously for Earl Ageus, finally seeing him coming through the massive doors surrounded by his guardsmen.

“This way!” shouted Rafe.

“What is happening?” the earl screamed back.

“It’s Tiberius,” Rafe shouted with a grin. “He’s back!”

Chapter 40

Leonosis

The world was erupting in chaos all around him, but Draggah didn’t care. In fact, the foul creature seemed to thrive as things went wrong. The fire bombs from the war ship were completely unexpected and killed dozens of his own troops, yet the demon relished death and torment in any form.

Leonosis felt a tiny spark of hope. When the first bomb dropped, he thought it was Queen Ariel, finally turning on the insane demon, but that hope vanished just as quickly as a snowflake over a bonfire. Draggah, invigorated by being drawn into the battle, rushed quickly down the curving street until he came to a gap between the buildings where he could see the war ship. He raised both hands, and Leonosis felt the pulse of magical power. The huge balloon sail tore, sending the war ship crashing into a rooftop that was only a few feet below the bottom of the vessel. The captain of the ship had been smart; keeping his ship as low as possible limited the range of the catapult, but it also made him a more difficult target. And because the ship was so close to the building below, Leonosis was sure that the crash did little more than shake the crew up.

Draggah obviously thought the same thing, and he stalked toward the downed ship. He could have ignored the crew of the vessel, who were no longer a threat to him, but instead he wanted revenge. His glorious moment had been interrupted, and although he could still hear the chaos behind him, his fury was growing out of control.

He had just come around a building when a girl with short hair almost crashed into him. Draggah raised a hand, planning to beat the young woman, but instead she fell to her knees, bowing before him.

“My lord,” she said breathlessly. “I’ve been searching for you. I know where the wizard is hiding.”

Leonosis felt his own ire rising, but he was jolted by the sense of joy that Draggah suddenly felt.

“Tiberius?” the demon said, skeptically.

“Yes, my lord. The earl’s third son. He’s a wizard. They’re hiding him down by the fields. I can take you to him.”

She never looked up, just stayed on her knees, but she seemed completely sincere. Leonosis was suddenly afraid. He didn’t think anything could stop Draggah, but he didn’t want the demon to get what he wanted, either.

“Rise,” Draggah said. “Tell me how you know this.”

“My brother, he’s a stablehand. The earl was planning to move his son down to the palace by the lake before you arrived.”

“Why would you do this?” Draggah asked.

“I want to live, lord. I hate magic. I just want to survive the fighting,” the girl said, then her face hardened. “And perhaps have a little gold for my trouble.”

Draggah suddenly laughed. The mountain shook around them, dust rose up into the air, and a loud rumble almost seemed to come from the demon himself.

“Show me,” he said.

Leonosis could feel the desire in Draggah. The demon wanted Tiberius and the Balestone, which Leonosis could only guess was some evil object that Draggah would use to further his power. Leonosis felt sick, and what he wanted more than anything else was to be rid of the demon. He would have gladly died rather than see Draggah get what he wanted, but Leonosis was powerless to stop the demon. And now, the very citizens of Avondale were turning against their own to help the evil being.

If only they could see Draggah for what he truly was, Leonosis thought. If even just for a minute the king’s soldiers knew what Leonosis knew about Draggah, they would have turned against him. Even Ariel, the demon’s only confidant, didn’t know just how black the creature’s soul truly was. All Draggah wanted was to turn Valana into a nightmare of death and suffering. The demon was not from the world of men, and even though Leonosis couldn’t understand that, he knew it was true.

They went down, winding through the streets, passing by piles of corpses, many of which had obviously been pilfered through for any valuables. Leonosis had heard many stories of the carrion birds that flock to the killing fields during war, but he’d not realized that humans were just as heinous. They may not be eating the bodies, but they were there, stealing from the dead before the soldiers were even cold.

“Where is the wizard?” Draggah asked, when they were near the lowest level.

“Not far, my lord,” the girl said.

Draggah was following her, but she sped through the city, turning and twisting, leading him down alleys and across makeshift ladders. It was obvious the girl was familiar with the city; she knew routes down Avondale’s concentric streets that even Leonosis didn’t know. Smoke was billowing from the center of the volcano’s cone, but Draggah didn’t seem to notice or care. The smoke was thick and black, casting a dark shadow across the city.

“Slow down,” Draggah said, but the girl ignored him.

The demon lurched ahead, just as the lithe woman with short hair turned a corner ahead of him. He was going to teach her a lesson, and Leonosis felt his own terror at the thought of seeing Draggah beating the girl, but when they turned the corner they found themselves alone in a dark, narrow alley. The girl was nowhere in sight. On both sides of them, there was nothing but stone walls, and a flimsy, tattered awning covered the alley, blocking the light that would normally shine in from above. Draggah looked up, but the girl was nowhere in sight. He stepped back, looking up and down the street.

Leonosis felt a sense of joy—the demon had been tricked, but then pain destroyed all conscious thought. Time lost all meaning. There was no sight, no sound, even though Leonosis was screaming in his mind, just pain. It was as if every fiber of his being was suddenly being torn apart.

Then the pain vanished, and Leonosis cowered down into the darkest recesses of his own mind. He knew he was close to madness, but he wanted an escape, anything to get away from Draggah. The magic touched him as the demon concentrated his power. Leonosis heard a strange chanting as Draggah cast a spell. The two buildings on either side of the alley suddenly blew apart. Then there was pain again, this time in Leonosis’ side. It was a different kind of pain, more substantial and concentrated.

Leonosis moaned in agony, but Draggah didn’t make a sound. The demon merely looked down, where a shard of wood from one of the buildings had stabbed deeply into the flesh he possessed. He reached down, yanked out the long splinter, then stuck his finger into the wound to stanch the bleeding.

Leonosis felt so weak and dizzy, yet Draggah controlled his body. As the demon walked steadfastly back toward the upper levels of the city, climbing his way back toward the palace, Leonosis faded in and out of consciousness. He saw fuzzy images of the structures they passed, and at one point Draggah had to stop and empty the contents of his stomach. Leonosis felt his muscles cramping; his legs were so heavy they felt as if huge anvils had been tied to each one. His arms ached, and his side was a throbbing mass of fiery agony. His head hurt, too, and his eyes burned from fatigue and smoke. His tongue felt thick in his mouth, which was so dry that his throat felt like he had tried to swallow shards of glass.

The demon didn’t seem to notice. Even though Leonosis was swooning, the demon kept walking, kept moving toward his goal. Nothing would keep him from finding the wizard and taking the Balestone. It was all that mattered to Draggah.

Leonosis realized at some point that he might die, and if he did, the demon would simply use his body like a suit of clothes. It was horrifying to think that, even after he died, people would attribute the demon’s atrocities to him, but there was nothing he could do. Then the world went black, and there was nothing but pain.