Shadowblade (25 page)

“Commander Coronus, help me retake my birthright. Help me expel these wretched Arnathians and punish General Craxis for all that he has made me suffer!” the prince was working himself into a rage. The more he spoke, the more tense and angry he became. His face turned red and veins began to bulge on his forehead. “When this is done, I wish to be crowned by the holy power and rule by the divine right of Ilian Nah!”

Amos felt as though his soul were being stolen from his very body and could do nothing about it.

“I see. This Craxis has indeed held the nation of Hybrand under his boot heel for many years, and the same can be said of his predecessors. Too long have you suffered under Arnathian oppression! Ilian Nah rewards those who struggle to overcome and destroy the unworthy! Ilian Nah gives you his blessing to exact vengeance upon them; you make take your bloody due, Thayne Cannath. And the Great One will help you do it!”

One of the Cklathmen hidden in the crowd finally voiced what Amos was unable to, although he desperately wanted to. “My Prince, would the Great Zuhr approve of this blasphemy?” came a voice from the crowd. Coronus looked ready to flay them all, but Cannath replied too quickly for any retaliatory action.

“Zuhr?” Cannath shouted back. “Zuhr? Where has Zuhr been these long years of occupation? Where has He been while our people were persecuted? Where was He when Hyrum was razed?” Cannath ignored some of the quiet booing he heard from the crowd. “Ilian Nah is here
now!
He sends his champions to aid us in our time of need!” the crowd began to cheer. “Let us take what was held from us! Let us take back our Royal Castle! Let us take back HYBRAND!” Cannath had effectively whipped the crowd into a frenzy.

“So be it!” with that Coronus pointed toward the drawbridge and a dart made of silver light flashed from his hand. The dart sailed across the chasm and exploded upon impact with the ancient drawbridge leaving a gaping hole, and some bewildered Arnathians peered through. What followed next amazed the gathered Cklathish mob who were ready to cross swords and test their might against the legendary prowess of the Arnathian Legionnaires. A dark bridge of black stone now spanned the chasm allowing the Cklathmen entry to what was long held from them.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Coronus strode confidently across the bridge. Black flames erupted from the blade of the sword in his right hand and the surface of the shield on his left.
A swarm of Arnathians ran to meet the elf lord, his
darkfire s
word blazing a path. With one slash of his sword he blazed a trail through the Arnathian line, their corpses aglow with black flames. Eagerly, Cannath followed the elf lord across the bridge and his horde of angry Cklathmen followed.

Prince Cannath and his Cklathish soldiers battled Arnathian enemies in every room, on every staircase, and on every floor of Castle Hybrand. The fierce Arnathians fought bitterly down to the last man. They were fighting for something larger than themselves. They fought for the honor of their Empire and the glory of their Holy Emperor, Arnath, even though the same emperor had abandoned them. But that did not matter to the Arnathian soldiers whose duty was to give their lives in whatever way the emperor saw fit. The Arnathians knew their fate was sealed the moment that Coronus blasted open the drawbridge and began slaying everything in sight. But they were disciplined, veteran warriors. To Arnathians, death meant going to the eternal battlefields of Gehenna where Qra’z reigned, where they would forever fight for glory in the eyes of their god and all the Holy Emperors of old. This was what the Arnathian Legionnaires lived for; the day they would die with honor and find eternal glory in the afterlife.

Craxis’ troops defended the castle well and scores of Cklathmen fell to Arnathian arrows and crossbows before the hand-to-hand combat was over. In the end the Arnathians did fall and Cannath found himself standing at the massive door to the Royal Court.

“Open it, Prince Cannath,” came the silky and powerful voice of Lord Coronus. “It is your right. You must take it!”

“Commander Coronus, it is barred from the inside. No doubt that scoundrel Craxis is destroying my birthright as we speak.”

Coronus studied the door a moment, then stepped to the side. He placed both hands on the stones of the wall to the side of the door and traced symbols on them with his fingers. A moment later the stones shifted into murky shadows and the mighty door fell to the floor, undamaged. Commander Coronus turned to him and said, “Your birthright awaits, Your Highness.”

With grim determination, Cannath held his sword, a Cklathish Militiaman, before him and strode through the shadowy doorway followed closely by Captain Amos and Commander Coronus. He was prepared to find General Craxis awaiting him, sword drawn, ready to fight. He would seal his glorious victory with the sweetness of spilling Craxis’ blood on the floor of the Royal Court. He would wound the man and watch him die while he looked down on the general from the throne that was his birthright.

But what the prince saw only angered him. He strode across the Royal Court and stood at his throne staring at Craxis. Captain Amos and Commander Corona fanned out, checking the rest of the chamber for hidden Arnathians; there were none.

Suicide.

He stood there seething for a long moment, Captain Amos and Commander Coronus watching him. Amos knew better than to disturb his lord when he was in this state, he had seen the aftermath of Prince Cannath’s tantrums before and he knew that one was likely to come at any moment. Coronus felt and saw the dark currents, the dark essences of the very fabric of reality, swirling about the room. Curiously, they were responding to Cannath’s shifting moods.

Interesting.
The elf saw that the shadowy essences were being absorbed by the prince; he couldn’t have been more pleased at this result.
Ilian Nah be praised!

Prince Cannath suddenly kicked the silent corpse, the symbol of the oppression of his people. This corpse that was the symbol of his family’s own treachery many years ago, revisited upon his people over and over and over. The symbol of all the anger and hatred he had been recipient of during his life. Then he kicked the dead general again, “Coward!” he shouted. “You quavered in here while your men fought to their own deaths to defend you!”

“I am sorry, Your Highness,” said Gavinos as he suddenly appeared near the prince’s shoulder. “If only we could have reached him sooner!”

“Your Highness,” said Commander Coronus. “The coward could not bear to face you, a superior foe, and so he killed himself. He has lost his honor in the eyes of his god, Qra’z, and he can never fight on the eternal battlefields of Gehenna!” Then Coronus grabbed the general’s corpse with one hand and held its limp form upright. “Even in death you cannot escape Ilian Nah!” the silky voice turned to steel and ice. With his free hand, the elf traced a Sigil on the chest of the dead man and hurled the corpse across the room.

“What can I do, Commander? I want that stinking corpse to serve me. I want Craxis’ soul to serve me! You say he cannot escape Ilian Nah even in death? Then bring this bastard back so that I can make his corpse dance and kill him again!”

Captain Amos was fearful of the darkness in his prince’s eyes. He had known Cannath a very long time and he was aware of what the man was capable of when he was angry. But he had never seen such darkness in the man’s eyes before. He was now completely consumed by rage and desire for revenge.

Captain Amos watched as Coronus and Cannath stood over the corpse of General Craxis. Coronus was giving Cannath instructions, showing him how to trace Sigils in the air. Amos was a spiritual man and he was raised to have Zuhr’s respect for the dead, even an enemy’s dead. Even though in life someone may be your sworn enemy, and you may have to kill them, things were different in the afterlife. Amos had been taught that those who didn’t know Zuhr in life would be given the chance to accept Him at the Judgment Gate or be sent to rot in the Seven Hells. When he saw Craxis’ corpse being kicked and thrown, it galled him but he knew better than to object. He was truly repulsed when he saw Coronus slice open the general’s jugular vein and told Cannath to trace the Sigils in the general’s blood.

“My Prince! I must object! Zuhr would not-” he was cut off in mid-sentence by an invisible wave as Coronus cast him a baleful glare. He found that he was now paralyzed and he could not speak. Terror filled him and he wanted to retch but he could do nothing. He fervently wished that he had done something earlier to sway his lord away from Commander Coronus’ evil. Cannath had simply traded one evil puppet-master for another. He knew that Coronus had no intention of letting his new puppet go, and Coronus knew too that Amos certainly understood that now.

When Cannath looked at Amos, the old captain was horrified. Bile rose in his throat and he felt like he would choke on it if he wasn’t released from the paralysis soon. He grunted in disgust at the crazed look in his prince’s eye; this was not the Prince Cannath he knew.

Coronus continued teaching the prince as Amos stood immobile, giving him a brief lesson in the power of the Sigil of Shadows. All Amos’ suspicions were confirmed; Coronus was an agent of the Seven Hells and Cannath was fully under the elf’s control.

“You have seen my power, Your Highness. It can be yours too. Swear yourself to Ilian Nah, and his favor will find you as it did me. As you continue to find power and glory for him, your own power and glory will grow too. Ilian Nah rewards his faithful,” said that silky hypnotic voice. Part of Cannath was screaming inside. Part of the man knew this was all wrong, knew this was evil. But that part was too small. The part of him that was his family’s legacy, that enjoyed power, that wanted control, overpowered the part of him that was good and honest. Cannath locked away that screaming voice in his soul and studiously ignored it. As he gave his soul to Ilian Nah he felt the cold fire of his newfound power coursing through him. Indeed, nothing would stand in his way now.

“I thank you Commander Coronus, and praise to Ilian Nah. I have found my way! Craxis may have escaped death at my hands, but his soul will not escape the justice of Ilian Nah!”

Just when Amos had resigned himself to working quietly and secretly to throw off the dark elf’s control over the man whose family his own family had been serving for generations, something even more dreadful happened. Shadows swirled around the two living men and the corpse. Moments later, the corpse stood and Amos began to choke on his own bile. He was making horrible gurgling sounds and felt death coming to take him when Cannath looked over at him.

“Mention that foul god once more, Captain Amos, and you will serve me quiet in death like General Craxis now does!”

Coronus waved a finger at Amos who abruptly fell on his face and began retching.

When he found that he could again speak, Amos said, “As you command, Thayne! All glory to Ilian Nah!”

“Now, Coronus. When do we have the coronation?”

C H A P T E R

10

Liberation.

Word spread throughout Hybrand City that the Prince of Hybrand had raised an army and defeated the mighty Arnathian war machine. Arnathian settlers were at first harassed and ambushed, then some were burned out of their fancy palatial homes and even the Temple of Qra’z had been vandalized before Gavinos urged Cannath to put a stop to it. Seeing the wisdom in Gavinos’ advice, and fearing a larger reprisal from the empire which he would not be prepared to face as yet, Cannath allowed the Arnathian settlers freedom of movement.

The Arnathians were not pleased at this turn of events. While many of the Arnathian settlers were snobbish nobles, a good many of the working class that emigrated here to start a new life were good folk. As it turned out, most of the working class Arnathians accepted the choice given them by Prince Cannath to remain in Hybrand as subjects of the Thayne. But most of the upper class and the nobility feared the savage Cklathmen and chose to leave the new kingdom without argument; most had vast estates elsewhere in the empire. Cklathish men and women lined the streets of the Royal Mile, the road which led to the Royal Castle in one direction and out of Hybrand City in the other.