Barrenlands (The Changespell Saga) (40 page)

"No!" Varien's voice rang through the clearing. "You fool!"

The Guard took one look at Laine's renewed terror—
another spell
— and his horse's head flung up, eyes rolling and nostrils widened with fear.

And then it was too late.

The spell triggered, and the air around the Guard and horse turned smoky and dense. Laine, suspended only yards in front of them, fought to turn his head aside, his features twisted with horror.

"Stand down!" Ehren shouted, slipping through the hole opened by the Guards. "We're here to talk to Rodar— Guard's Right!" His sword had finally, somehow, found its way to his hand. But steel was impotent against magic, and the smoky cloud turned into a swarm of black specks that dove and whirled around the hapless Guard and his mount. Horse and human screamed; they seemed to blur, and the haze turned more pink than smoke, thick enough that the frantic figures within were obscured.

When it cleared, they were gone.

No one else moved. No one else, for the moment, dared to. The metal of the Guard's gear and horse's tack lay scattered in the grass, winking greasily in a moment of sunlight breaking through the clouds.

Laine fought and lost to the magic that pinned him in mid-air, his expression tight with fear. "Stop him, Ehren," he said, gasping out the words past the spell. "Just
stop him
, before it gets worse."

"I'll stop him, all right," Ehren growled. He cast Jada a look, ignoring her pale face.
Watch my back
. Then, sword in hand, he headed for Rodar with ground-eating strides. "We need to talk, Rodar."

No
Your Highness.
No groveling. Instead, reminding Rodar who he was— and who he had been. And seeing Rodar's uncertainty in reply.

It bit more deeply than he'd expected.

"Halt!" cried the Guard still behind him, her voice strained and reluctant. Then, in surprise, "Jada, no!" After a moment, her body hit the ground with a thud.
Jada at work.

Steel rang on steel, nearly obscuring Jada's voice. "Let him
go
, Benna— we don't want to fight!
Varien
is the enemy here!"

And given even a moment's chance, would create another spell to kill them all—

Ehren strode inexorably onward, heading for Rodar— watching Varien.

"Come no closer," Gerhard commanded, moving between the king and Ehren.

Rodar sat behind him on a horse that pawed the ground, snorting fractiously. Ehren was close enough to see the surprise in his eyes— surprise that the game of being king had suddenly turned into something much more dangerous, as his bodyguard tightened around him. "Ehren," he said, barely audible, his voice uncertain and a little betrayed.

"I need to talk to the king," Ehren told Gerhard, stopping. His sword hung loosely in his hand, the tip down. "
Guard's Right.
"

Gerhard dismounted and released his horse, a deliberate move designed to put him on equal terms with Ehren.
I am not afraid of you
. "You are outlaw. You have no Guard's Right here." He nodded at the sword. "Lay down your weapon."

Varien watched with piercing gaze, poised to act. Ehren shook his head, slowly. "I would have preferred to do this quietly—" in the background, Jada's sword rang an ironic counterpoint to his words—"but do it, I will. Rodar is safe from
me
, Gerhard. Varien is your outlaw."

Varien made a sharp gesture. "Get away from the king!"

Ehren stiffened, bracing against magical assault...

Nothing.

Varien dismounted his horse, a humorless smile on his face. "You're far too close to the king— I would never risk my sovereign's life. But your friend is another story." His expression held confident satisfaction, the face of a man who fully expected to win this fight— and to enjoy doing it. He nodded at Laine— still shackled by magic— and was rewarded with an instant cry of pain. And then another...

And another.

Ehren set his jaw. "Stop him," he told Gerhard, his voice grating in his throat.

Gerhard cast Laine an uneasy look, and stood fast. "Only you can do that. Surrender yourself, Ehren."

"Rodar!" Ehren called, meeting that uncertain gaze over the distance between them. "This is
your
choice!"

Gerhard tooka step forward. "
Lay down your weapon.
"

But Rodar sat straighter in the saddle, behind his phalanx of Guards— his pride pricked. "Leave that man alone, Varien. My Guards have this under control."

Varien cast him a contemptuous look. "Your Guards are
children.
" Behind them, Laine gargled a raw noise. "Do you want your friend dead, Ehren? Do as you're told. Drop your weapons."

"Varien!" Rodar snapped, but this time his voice held a faint, queasy desperation.

Varien's gaze never wavered from Ehren.
Do you want your friend dead?

Rodar couldn't stop him. The Guards wouldn't even try. Jada had her hands full...

We didn't come to fight.

But fight he would— for Laine. To reach Rodar. To stop Varien.

Ehren lunged for the wizard.

Gerhard was just as fast, darting between them. Ehren turned the lighter blade aside with a snarl of impatience but Gerhard came right back at him, lightning quick— landing a solid hit on Ehren's gauntlet and retreating while Laine's torment rang in Ehren's ears.

Ehren bore down on Gerhard in fury.

A Guard's worst mistake.

Gerhard skipped back out of his way, flinging his free hand up to keep the other Guards with Rodar. They gathered tightly around the young king, pushing him away. The point of Gerhard's narrow blade found Ehren's flesh in quick succession— arm, thigh, and a quick touch on his chest.

It was the sting of the last that broke through Ehren's anger. Panting, he struggled to adjust his style to the Lorakan moves— keeping his wrist light and loose, letting Gerhard's blade slide off his own. He allowed Gerhard the attack, countering with the swift parries his hand knew so well and blinking aside rage along with sweat.

Gerhard saw the difference. "Now," he said, wiping away the sweat on his own brow. "
Now
we find out."

"That's not what this is—" parry, quick riposte—"about," Ehren said.

Gerhard's answer was to press in close, forcing Ehren's sword aside with the forte of his blade and bringing his hilt up to smash against Ehren's head. Ehren jerked aside and took the glancing blow, shoving Gerhard back out of distance— bringing his sword up to guard while he tried to blink his vision back to normal. Blood trickled down the side of his face.

Dimly, he noted that Laine had stopped screaming.

In that moment, with his own harsh breath filling his ears, with Gerhard stalking him, wary and about to strike, it was Varien who caught Ehren's eye. It was Varien who stood— now close by and still unconcerned— Varien with his smile and his hands twisting in some new and complex spell that no one else seemed to notice.

Varien, about to attack.

Ehren closed the distance on Gerhard, gaining ground while they traded blows in the third and fourth lines. He'd seen Gerhard's students forget the importance of gauging distance, and he kept his gain subtle, hoping... hoping—

Gerhard broke the rhythm by lunging low— and only then realized how close they were. Ehren grabbed the outstretched arm, yanking Gerhard off balance as his foot swept behind Gerhard's leg and took him off his feet.

Gerhard landed hard on his back and Ehren jerked the sword out of his hand, flinging it toward the woods as his sword came to rest at Gerhard's throat.

The Guard master dropped his hands to the ground by his shoulders, fingers spread wide in capitulation. The other Guards spurred their horses into motion toward Ehren, leaving only one man with Rodar.

Varien... the Guards...

He couldn't handle them both.

Laine's newly raw voice cried a warning. "Ehren!
The spell—
!"

The wizard raised his hands in a theatrical flourish, his shoulders drawn back, his arms lifted... his victory on the edge of bursting through.

Can't handle them both.

He could stop Varien, and fall to the Guards.

Or he could face the Guards, and fall to Varien's magic...

While Varien lived on.

Ehren held Varien's coldly triumphant gaze and lifted his sword to first guard, hand at shoulder height, blade dropping diagonally across his body with the edge out.

It looked awkward, it looked useless— and in the frozen moment of time when Ehren stared into Varien's eyes, the expression he found there told him so. But Ehren met that gaze with a hard and merciless look of his own, his voice so low that only its intensity carried it to Varien. "This time, you lose."

There was no finesse in Ehren's movement, just fierce expertise. A step forward, a pivot, and all the energy in his body going to the motion of his rising blade. He held Varien's gaze for one last moment before the rotation of his own body pulled him away, and saw the astonished disbelief there. And then came the satisfying bite of blade into skin and through Varien's neck— sharp steel driven by the force of Ehren's movement, hesitating at but not stopped by bone... and suddenly whipping free again, all the way around to strike dirt by Ehren's right foot. Something round and heavy hit the ground in the corner of his vision.

Ehren didn't turn to see what he'd done; he knew. The cries of dismay told him. So did the Guards' expressions as they thundered up to him, not bothering with swords as they rode him down.

~~~~~

Rough hands hauled Ehren to his feet. When his chin sagged on his chest, someone yanked on his hair, raising his head. Harsh words in his ear meant nothing; his thoughts staggered with recent memory— the huge bulk of horses riding overhead, one of them rearing and the hooves coming down again and again, of trying to roll out of the way—

There was enough wrongness, enough broken inside him that he knew he hadn't been fast enough. Ribs grated; there was the taste of blood in his mouth, and plenty soaking his clothes. When the Guards on either side of him gave him the chance to stand on his own, he came nowhere near close to managing it.

Jada
, he wondered, trying to focus with the one eye that seemed willing to open.
Laine
. He saw them across the field— Jada, bleeding, relinquishing her sword to the Guard who had bested her; Laine, freed from the spell, a heap on the ground but even now pulling himself upright.

Gerhard filled his vision; he had an honor feather in his hand and looked from it to Ehren, a tight frown wrinkling the space between his brows. "Rodar wants you executed immediately for the treasonous act of killing the wizard," he said grimly, and waited, as though hoping for reply or objection. Ehren couldn't seem to muster anything but a groan, and when the grip on the back of his head disappeared, his chin hit his chest again.

In a fuzzy wander of thought, he recalled that Benlan had been avenged. It seemed enough. Something gurgled in his throat, and he watched blood drip from his mouth to the ground.

"If the king wants him executed, he'd better do it quick," someone said.

There was a scuffle of feet, of someone joining them. "Ehren!" Jada cried, fear in her voice.

"Hold her!"

The order sparked the sounds of a brief struggle; in the silence that followed, Jada gave one strangled sob. "Don't you realize what he's
done
? Do you think he's really stupid enough to charge into a guarded hunting party and kill Varien
for no reason?
"

In the background, Rodar's voice was quiet, considering. "It's true he was my father's favorite Guard." And then less so. "But he's slain
my wizard.
"

"And what of me?" Jada asked. "Do you mistrust your own judgment so, that you can disregard all the trust you've given
me?
"

Rodar had moved in on them; his instantaneous response came from nearby. "What of the trust I gave Varien?"

"Did you, my liege?" Gerhard asked, and the honest searching in that voice surprised Ehren, who had counted Gerhard with Varien no matter what Jada had said. "Did you truly trust the wizard?"

"He was my father's man," Rodar protested. "He was my man now. All those years of service..."

"Your father," Ehren said, focusing all his energy to lift his head, just enough to look at Rodar, that's all he wanted... There. The young king stared at him, scowling. Ehren rattled through the blood in his chest, fighting for air. "Your father is dead. And Varien killed him."

Jada rapidly filled the silence of Rodar's astonishment. "We tried to come with weapons sheathed...
Varien
started the violence. Look what happened to Laine! Look what happened to Seth and his horse! One Guard dead today is enough. Please," she said, and now she was pleading. "Please, put him down. Quit hurting him. We can explain, we can prove ourselves, I swear it!
Please..."
and her voice broke.

Rodar hesitated. "I..." he said, his voice growing uncertain, "I withdraw the sentence of immediate execution." But he added, more practically, "Not that I think it'll make any difference to
him
."

In a disjoined, floating sort of way, Ehren thought he was right. And there was Laine, trying to get closer, a grip on his arm holding him back. He looked haggard, his blue and black eyes stark against his pale face— but he looked whole, at least.

"Set him down," Laine said, an odd note of command in his voice. And after a hesitation, they did. Carefully, Ehren's Guards lowered him to the ground, onto which he folded like an obedient rag doll, the air leaving his lungs in a groan.

"Let me
go
," Jada demanded— and after another hesitation, she knelt by his side, unencumbered. She looked down at him a moment, then up again, long enough to say, "Give me that."

It was his feather. Carefully, Jada wove its narrow leather ties through Ehren's hair, close enough to the proper place. "There," she whispered, putting her hand on his shoulder. Then she scowled upward. "No matter what you say, he's a King's Guard. He's the only one among
all
of you— Guards, ministers... even Benlan's
son
— who wouldn't give up looking for the man who killed his king. He damn well deserves all the honor you can give him. And it shouldn't have—" her voice started to break again— "shouldn't have included being killed by his own!"