King (35 page)

Bel-Tygeon turned from her in obvious disgust. Watching him, Ela also glimpsed doors closing all along the corridor. Every woman roomed along this corridor had been watching and listening to their dispute. The king yelled to the would-be onlookers, “Do not open your doors until you’re commanded to do so!”

He spun around to face Ela again, pointing at her. “Let your Creator do as He pleases—
you
will obey me!”

Lady Dasarai’s terrified gasp cut through the air. “Ty!” She snatched at his gold-embroidered sleeve, lifting it from his forearm. Ela knew what she would see on the king’s arm, but she looked again at what she’d been shown in her dream.

Huge dark blisters lifted over Bel-Tygeon’s arm. As they all stared, a blister broke, dripping blood at the king’s feet. Sickened, Ela tottered, then knelt. “Sir, these blisters will move inward—even to your heart. Please, please listen. You can halt this! The Infinite commands you to return me at once to Siphra, with the queen, for I am
not
your prophet, and she cannot be your wife! The instant we cross the border, you’ll recover. Obey Him. Send us away, or you’ll slowly bleed to death!”

“Go!” Dasarai ordered. To a eunuch, she cried, “Give the prophet and Siphra’s queen everything they need and be sure they’re safely returned to their husbands!”

“Majesty!” Another eunuch’s thin cry echoed down the corridor. Gasping, the man halted some distance from Bel-Tygeon. “Blessed One, a plague has struck two slaves. . . .” He stared at the king’s dripping arm, then knelt shakily, weeping. “Oh, save us! The plague’s found you.”

Remarkably composed, Bel-Tygeon adjusted his sleeve to cover the blood, and he spoke to Ela. “I will give the order now. You and the queen will leave at once, with full honors.” Quietly, he added, “Pray to your Infinite that I recover.”

Her Infinite. Not his. All right. At least Bel-Tygeon admitted the Infinite’s existence. Obedience and a partial admission were enough for now. “I will, Majesty. Thank you.”

Akabe helped Kien to his feet, glad to listen as his friend complained. “The muscles in my leg seem permanently tightened, and I’m so weak, I’m useless!”

“You’re walking,” Akabe argued. “And your fever is down. That’s what we’ve prayed for, isn’t it? Let’s move you into the sunlight and—”

Scythe’s threatening huffs and stomps from outside made them both turn. A long trumpet call resounded from the gatehouse where Flint kept watch. Akabe waited, fearing another warning blast. It rose high and piercing through the evening air, accompanied by distant battle cries.

Kien grasped Akabe’s arm. “More Ateans have found us. Help me to that wall, give me your old sword, then do whatever you must to survive, sir! Forget I exist—I’ll manage.”

“Not for long with your wounds!” Akabe half dragged Kien to the nearest wall. “Lean here—I’m running for more weapons!”

“Lady.” His armor clattering and glinting in the afternoon sunlight, Commander Rtial Vioc bowed his head as he drew his horse up beside Ela’s. “Are you well?”

She couldn’t help smiling at his earnest tone and the sincerity behind his question. He knew she was pregnant, and he’d been hovering near for the past two days as if fearing she’d be too fragile for such a rushed journey through these tortuous hills. “Yes, commander. The queen and I are both well—only tired and eager to reach our husbands.”

“We’re in Siphra,” Vioc told her. “My men and I will accompany you to the fortress.”

“Thank you, commander.”

“My duty and honor. Prophet.” He nodded, then rode ahead to speak to Caitria.

Contemplating his words, Ela’s heartbeat quickened. They’d crossed the border. She’d see Kien soon! Another thought halted her exultation. Infinite? Has Bel-Tygeon recovered?

Can I forget My word? Belaal’s king is spared the plague.

Within her thoughts, Ela saw Dasarai and Bel-Tygeon checking his arms, legs, and face for blisters that no longer existed. Ela sighed. Thank You! But what will happen to him now? What about those who have turned to You in Sulaanc? They’ve no prophets, no holy books, no—

Aren’t they My concern?

Yes. I know You are always right—and that You love them. Forgive me, please.

She allowed herself to relax slightly, though Commander Vioc was increasing their pace once more. Why had she been fretting? Of course the Infinite would bring another prophet and His Sacred Books to the new faithful ones in Belaal.

And surely other souls in Belaal would be called by His Spirit. Perhaps even those who’d hated her. Please,
please
let it be so! She’d seen too much death as the Infinite’s prophet.

Too many souls endangered by their own rebellious natures.

Soon their procession turned onto a narrow winding road, and Ela nearly dropped with relief, recognizing its contours. This road led to Akabe’s fortress home. To Kien!

Ela leaned forward, urging the small horse ahead.

Caitria blinked back tears, seeing the fortress on the hillcrest above. Everything within her wanted to abandon all dignity and run through those woods and up the hill into that battered castle while screaming for Akabe. He’d think she was a wild woman. And if he was wise, he’d run. The thought almost made her smile.

Scanning the walls more closely now, Caitria bit her lip. Where were Akabe’s watchmen? Why couldn’t she see plumes of smoke from at least one or two cooking fires?

Ela drew her horse up beside Caitria’s and stared up at the fortress above. “No banners, no guards on the wall walk, no smoke . . . where are they?”

Distant horn blasts and battle cries cut toward them from the hillside above. Was the fortress under attack? Ela urged her mount forward and called to Caitria, “Majesty, stay here!”

“Not for my life!” Caitria goaded her horse after Ela’s.

They abandoned the procession and urged their horses ahead into the trees as Commander Vioc yelled, “Stop—Majesty, no!”

 35 

C
aitria heard Commander Vioc’s men chasing after her, their horses’ hooves thundering, armor and weapons clattering. Would they try to stop her? Panicked at the thought, Caitria leaned forward, urging her horse onward. “Go!”

She rode after Ela up through the trees, toward the bare hillcrest. As they rounded the final turn, Caitria glimpsed a body falling from the far side of the gatehouse wall to the ground, and her breath caught in horror. The fallen one wore Akabe’s colors. “Oh, Infinite, no!”

An arrow whisked past Caitria, provoking yells from Commander Vioc’s men. Vioc bellowed, “Majesty, lean down!”

Unnerved, Caitria bent, hugging her horse’s neck and scanning the area. Two leather-clad horsemen waited near the gatehouse, guarding a number of horses—none of them belonging to Akabe. One of the men wielded a bow, and he stared straight at her, as a hunter with the prey in sight. Just as he reached over his shoulder to lift an arrow from the quiver on his back, Caitria’s would-be killer was struck with two of Belaal’s arrows to his throat and chest. His companion turned his horse to flee, but was hit by an arrow to his side.

To Caitria’s right, Ela cried, “The gate is open!” She dismounted, branch in hand. “Others have entered the yard!”

Caitria slid off her horse and knelt, removing one of Akabe’s
daggers from her boot. Could she use it if she must? Infinite, grant me strength! She started toward the gate.

Vioc roared, “Wait until we’ve secured your path!”

She halted. “Hurry, please! My husband is in danger!” Accompanied by Vioc and his men, she stepped around the horrid skulls and sped after Ela through the gate. They slipped into the yard, briefly startled by a massive mound of soil, piled and piked—a bristling barricade inside the entrance.

Ela rounded the side of the mound, halted and gasped. “Pet—Scythe!”

Lathered and disheveled, the monster warhorse stood amid multiple trampled bodies before the tower’s entry, his powerful jaws clamped tight on the luckless remaining soldier’s arm. Scythe flung the screaming man away, then rushed him again, clearly too overcome by battle rage to pay the least attention to Ela or Caitria.

Recovering, Ela charged toward the tower, her bright robes and blue mantle fluttering as she ran. Behind Caitria, Vioc sucked in a breath. “Has the monster vanquished all your enemies?”

“I hope so!” Praying in frantic silence, Caitria dashed after Ela. Infinite? Where was Akabe? Inside they hesitated.

Vioc hissed, “Majesty, allow us to help you! Identify your husband and his men, that we may strike only your enemies and fulfill our task!”

“My husband’s men wear crimson and gold—usually. . . .” Distant voices echoed from the stairwell, making Caitria turn. Akabe’s shout and a man’s cry. Dagger in hand, Caitria rushed past Ela and scurried into the stairwell. Clambering up the winding stone stairs, she followed the voices toward Kien and Ela’s chamber and froze in the open doorway.

Rough-bearded and wielding the blood-streaked blue Azurnite sword, Akabe stood at the far wall, guarding Lord Aeyrievale, who held a sword, but was obviously weakened and supporting himself against the wall’s stones. Another man’s body—a stranger to her—sprawled at their feet in a pool of spreading blood, evidently just cut down by Akabe. Caitria gasped.

Akabe saw her and his eyes widened, clearly horrified. She backed toward Commander Vioc in the stairwell, but a man reached from inside the chamber doorway and snatched Caitria’s hand. He crushed her fingers around the dagger’s hilt, then wrenched her against his chest. Stumbling, shocked by the pain in her hand, she looked up and recognized the man at once. Lord Siymont, father of Barth, her favorite little palace page. “My lord, what are you doing?”

His grip cruel, he twisted Caitria’s hand, pointing Akabe’s dagger upward beneath her chin, while blocking her further with his sword. In throaty, roughened tones, Siymont muttered, “I’m setting Siphra aright, lady, and you’re the very instrument I require for the task.” To Akabe he said, “I’ll skewer her like meat on a spit if you take a single step!”

Caitria grimaced. He would surely break her hand, then kill her. Infinite! Save the king!

Ela edged into the room now, her dark eyes wary and huge. “My lord, I beg you—it’s not too late! Release her or you will die instead.”

“Not before I rid Siphra of you, Prophet! You, your puppet-king, and his temple!”

“He’s the Infinite’s king, and you’ll fail,” Ela pleaded, her tone making Caitria shiver. “The Infinite offers you—”

Lord Siymont snarled, “Hang your Infinite and yourself!”

Caitria could smell Siymont now, reeking of horse and his own traitor’s sweat. Speaking carefully through her pain-clenched teeth, she added her plea to Ela’s. “My lord, think of your son!”

“I’m saving my son from a future of being controlled by your Infinite and those superstitious temple priests! How did you think I’d react, Majesty, upon hearing that you’d sent my son and heir to the Prophet for lessons? You
all
should have died then!”

Akabe’s voice cut through the chamber, low and furious. “Siymont, release my wife and—”

“And
what
?” Siymont wrenched Caitria hard, making her yelp.
“Shall we bargain, Akabe Garric, lord of nothing? I’ll spare her in exchange for your life. Turn your sword on yourself. Now.”

“No!” Caitria struggled. Feeling the blade’s edge stinging beneath her chin, she tilted her head just enough to speak. “Akabe, don’t! They’ll kill me anyway! Don’t—”

A jolt interrupted Caitria. Siymont grunted. “Ungh!” His grip went slack, and he released the dagger. As Caitria staggered, shocked, Siymont dropped his sword, then fell, taken down by Commander Vioc. Without looking up, Vioc asked, “Lady, are you well?”

Caitria wobbled. “Yes. Rather.”

Akabe lowered the Azurnite sword, stepped over the man he’d slain, then gathered Caitria in an embrace. “You’re alive! Cait . . .” He kissed her fiercely, his whiskers scraping her face. “Oh, Cait—my dear, brave wife—bless the Infinite! I feared I’d led you here to die!”

“Bless Him indeed! I’m well.” She hugged him with all her might. “And you’re safe!”

Across the room, Ela—in tears—hurried to kneel beside Kien, who’d eased himself to the floor, his face waxen and drawn in pain. Unnerved, Caitria looked up at her husband. “Was Lord Aeyrievale wounded?”

“And stitched, yes. I’ll tell you everything later.” He kissed Caitria’s lips so gently that she melted. But then he shook her, becoming stern. “Never charge into a clash! I was about to attack Siymont when you appeared.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know.” She hugged him, fighting fresh tears. “I
had
to find you! But you’re safe and nothing else matters. Except . . . he was Barth’s father! How will we tell him?”

Akabe didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at Commander Vioc. “Thank you, sir. Should I ask who you are?”

“I am a servant of my king, who decreed I must be sure your wife reaches you safely.” Vioc slid his dagger into its scabbard and bowed his head. “To be certain of that—with your forgiveness, Majesty—I ordered my men to search this place and subdue your
foes, if any have survived. When we are certain Siphra’s queen is protected, we will depart in peace.”

Akabe sighed. Caitria felt the tension fade from his body as he spoke. “Thank you, sir. I’ll ask no other questions. However, you and your men may shelter here for the night.”

“Our thanks, with gladness, Majesty.” Commander Vioc bowed again and retreated.

Now Akabe answered Caitria’s question about Siymont. “How can I possibly tell that little boy his father is a traitor?” He shook his head. “I’ll pray over that as I take care of these men—after I find Riddig and Flint. Infinite—have they survived the attack?”

Dismayed, Caitria remembered the first death she’d seen as she and Ela approached the fortress—one of Akabe’s men falling from the gatehouse. Had her husband lost all his men? Bracing herself, she tucked her unbruised hand in his. “I’ll go with you to find them.”

Followed by the battered and miserable Riddig Tyne, Akabe knelt with Caitria beside Flint’s body and stared, heartsick. “A good man. Dead, because of me.”

Her touch featherlight, Caitria smoothed his beard. “My lord, you cannot blame yourself for Siymont’s rebellion. Flint died serving Siphra.”

“Even so, I’m responsible.” Akabe embraced his wife and kissed her soft cheek, marveling again at her presence and praising the Infinite for the transformation he saw in her. Later, he would ask Cait for details and rejoice in their newfound intimacy. But not now. Not while gazing upon the stilled faces of dead Siphrans. Caressing the graceful line of her throat—and checking the small bloodied nick left by Siymont’s attack—he murmured, “Beloved, go inside. Riddig and I must bury our dead.”

She kissed him, smoothing his beard again. “I’ll have bathing water warmed for you.”

Akabe watched her reenter the fortress, then sighed and nodded
at Riddig. “We bury Flint first. Then Siymont.” He prayed aloud, sickened. “Infinite! How will I tell young Barth?”

They’d just finished wrapping and tying Flint’s body when the sounds of horses alerted them to visitors. No . . . Akabe listened hard, hearing orders and responses given by the unseen men’s respectful, well-trained voices. Accompanied by the customary trump-call of his personal guards, alerting all to their approach.

“Majesty!” Riddig breathed, some of his misery vanishing, “Your men are here!”

Akabe stood and lifted his dirtied hands in praise. “Bless You, Infinite!”

As he watched, five of his personal guards emerged from the woods, emaciated and obviously worried. When they knelt before him, Akabe recognized the five as the guards he’d left with Caitria the morning she was stolen. One of the five moistened his cracked lips and said, “Majesty. Forgive us, but we were ordered to flee. But . . . we became lost in the hills. Until our reinforcements appeared . . .”

“Stand,” Akabe commanded. “There’s nothing to forgive. Bless the Infinite that we’ve survived!”

Kien opened his eyes, blinked hard, and saw Ela enter the now-clean chamber, carrying a tray set with a bowl, a towel, and a spoon. Definitely not a dream, though she was more than beautiful enough to be a dream. Infinite, thank You!