The Lords of Valdeon (12 page)

"This man was taking a message to the playthings of the Jalora." Gorman pulled out a parchment from inside his cloak and handed it to Julian.

He smoothed his thumb upon the seal of Edmund D'Antoiné. Loyal to the last, Leo had tried to send his legion a warning. It would never arrive. He nodded a reluctant thanks. They were very impressive, these barbarians from the north. They dared show their hatred for the Jalora. In fact, they seemed to bask in their blasphemy.

"I want someone on the inside with you, Prince of Valdeon."

Gorman turned as a cloaked figure came to stand beside him. Skinny grey fingers with dangerously long black nails threw back the cloak, exposing an inhuman face, sharp in feature and strangely pale. Cold black eyes blinked back at Julian as it grinned. The odd face blurred as it changed. Dark eyes and hair began to form until Leo's dead compatriot stood before them.

"This changeling will be your new companion."

"The rangers will know he…it is not human."

How dare the brute! Did he imagine Julian would allow himself to be monitored like a common foot soldier? Gorman was supposed to be an ally, not his task master. The man was forgetting his place.

"The Sarcion protects me." The changeling's accent was a perfect impression of a Valdeonian landowner. Educated, but not too formal.

"See you don't make too much of yourself, Changeling. The Lords of Valdeon will not be easily fooled."

"It will be as you say, Prince of Valdeon." The changeling bowed, an insolent grin upon its borrowed face. "I will stay in this body until I have need of a new one."

A shimmer of malicious delight flashed in the creature's eyes. Julian turned away. His knowledge of changelings was limited, but one couldn't be too cautious with such creatures. He didn't want Lord Gorman having delusions he could replace Julian rather than uphold his emperor's contract. Perhaps it was time to remind these barbarians just how invaluable Julian was to their plans.

"We have much planning to do," Julian told him. "The Lords of Valdeon are the Sacred Guard. They are powerful rangers whose duty it is to protect the Altar of Providence. They won't be easily defeated."

"They are still human." Gorman shifted the steel mesh covering his eyes toward Julian. "I've faced many challenging foes in my conquests."

"Don't underestimate them. They are servants of the Jalora. The overconfident fall easily under the sword of a ranger."

"You fear them, Prince of Valdeon?" The changeling's black eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Let us say, I respect their power. We must separate the Sacred Guard somehow. They are stronger together, but if we can divide them it is possible they could be defeated individually." He waved a hand at his own ship anchored well away from their meeting place. "Come, I have food and wine onboard my ship. Such things are best discussed over a meal."

Lord Gorman turned bored eyes to Julian. "We must endure such trivialities for the sake of your ego, I suppose."

He walked away, leaving Julian seething in the sand. The deal with the Akutar was balancing on Gorman's blade. He'd have to watch this new threat carefully. One wrong move and Valdeon would be taken from him. Julian swallowed his pride and painted on a statesman's false smile. He fell in step beside Whisper as they moved in the wake of Akutar's most infamous warrior.

Chapter Eight

Dark silence filled the Grand Atrium of the Palace of Kings. Starlight glistened within the glass panels of the three-story structure. Xavier the Wolf led the Lords of Valdeon along the dark wall of windows. Soon the pink of sunrise would paint the glass. Servants would begin their bustling as the palace woke to start the new day. For now, the only ones stirring within the massive building were the rangers and the being whose power beckoned them forward.

Wolf paused before the golden doorway to calm his mind. They were about to set foot upon sacred ground. The throne room of the Palace of Kings was built upon the very spot the Jalora had created its Lion Ring. Standing in stark contrast to the ancient white stone in which it was based, the Altar of Providence stood in the glory of power and hope. The Jalora and its god-like servants, the Luminawni or Ancients as they were sometimes called, formed the Altar's cathedral with perfect white stone from their lands. Then they had forged the three parts making up the Altar of Providence — the throne, the crown, and the orb.

The beauty and grandeur of the Palace of Kings paled in comparison to the throne room. White stone stretched beneath them circling toward a gigantic gold medallion. A crown sat upon the likeness of the orb which in turn rested upon a throne. Engraved deep within the medallion, the symbol of the Altar of Providence marked the absolute center of the room. Spiraling into a great sphere, the throne room had been lined with beautiful white marble pillars. Each had the symbol of the Altar of Providence chiseled within it. Chairs with rich, blood-red fabric resting upon a tiered platform lined the main aisle on either side, drawing every eye to the most magnificent treasure in the world.

Housing the earthly energy of the land, Valdeon’s throne, known as the "Lion’s Seat," had been crafted from solid gold. Great paws made up the legs and arm rests. Its golden mane flowed to the diamond encrusted spiral ceiling. Massive lion jaws bared their teeth above the head of the king. Clasped tightly in the eternal jaw was the Crown of Sorrows. Worn upon the bearer of the Lion Ring's head, it was a brilliant band of magical energy. Now, as it rested within the gold, it looked like an unimpressive piece of lead. Many a lustful conqueror would attempt to take the crown from its resting place, but only the bearer of the Lion Ring could touch the Altar's surface. Any blasphemer foolish enough to try would meet with a painful end.

Wolf had seen the Altar's punishment firsthand. As a boy eager to see the famed Altar, he'd attended the king's court at his father's side. A clumsy servant had accidently fallen against the throne as he tried to hand Leo a scroll. Even the Lion could not stop the Altar's punishment. Sometimes in his nightmares, Wolf still heard the man's screams of agony.

His attention was drawn to the Orb of Valdeon next to the throne. The Altar's last piece tied the land and the ranger to the spiritual body of heaven. Its midnight color floated listlessly within the sphere. Once a bright purple pulsing in unison with Leo's energy, the Orb’s power had faded when the Lion Ring was separated from its human host. As they approached, the black within the orb exploded with a surge of angry red.

Wolf kept his rangers at a steady, respectful pace. They were the Sacred Guard, defenders of the throne and keepers of the Altar of Providence. Despite best efforts and intentions, the Lords of Valdeon had failed in their duties. The Lion was dead, and his ring had been lost. Wolf's grief and guilt surged through him once more. They’d searched every location Leo had been rumored to hide and hadn’t found the ranger or his ring. His heart wanted to keep searching, but by Valdeonian law they must acknowledge the king to be dead. A Regent must be selected to rule until the rightful heir could be found. If one could be found.

They kneeled at the back of the hall, waiting for the Altar to grant them permission to enter. The Altar's touch surrounded Wolf, probing his thoughts and heart. He remained motionless, letting the power course through him. Wolf was its servant, bound to follow its command or accept its punishment. The Jalora had remained silent about Wolf's encounter with Leo, but he suspected its wrath would come today considering what had happened as a result of their argument. He waited in complete submission for its judgment. The young rangers waiting behind him suddenly stood. They turned as one and marched out of the throne room, leaving Wolf alone with the Altar.

Destiny
.

The word filled his mind. It was the Altar who spoke to him now. Not in words or images, but by infusing his mind directly with its will. He lifted his head. A young man with curly chestnut hair and amber-flecked eyes stood before him. The Lion Ring pulsed with brilliant light upon his finger. In an instant the image was gone, and he was alone in the throne room. The Altar's power left him. Their brief meeting was over, and the punishment he had expected hadn’t come.

Wolf rose slowly to his feet. A thousand questions ached to be asked, but no answer would be given this day. Keeping his eyes upon the Altar, he backed away slowly until his boot struck one of the golden throne-room doors. Wolf hurried into the Atrium. A mighty groan behind him shook the windows. The massive golden doors began to move. Hinges — unused for decades — forced the door closed by their own power. The chill of fate ran along his spine as the handles of the door dissolved into empty air. No one could reach the Altar of Providence now. The Jalora had sealed it away from all conquerors, but it had also closed itself to its guard. This boded ill for Valdeon and Andara.

"What does it mean, Wolf?"

Otter's young, impish face was a checkerboard of shadow and early morning sunbeams. He moved closer to his older cousin, Berto the Jaguar. Other young faces cast troubled gazes at the golden doors. He had no comfort to give them.

"It means we must prepare ourselves for war." Wolf turned from the golden doors. Perhaps they would open again for the young man in his vision? Or had he been a mere memory from the Altar's past?

"See to your duties. I go to speak with Chancellor Benito."

Crushing silence ripped the warmth from Chancellor Benito’s eyes. His wrinkled face grew taut, washing away any complexion against the purple robes of state. The fabric rustled in hurried movements as he sought warmth from the cold fireplace standing empty in his chambers. Benito, stricken, clutched at the cold marble mantle with trembling fingers.

Wolf had brought ill news with him, news capable of ultimately throwing Valdeon into civil war. If the Lion Ring fell into the hands of evil, the Jalora's power would fade from the land. The legion's extraordinary power and their ability to keep the peace would diminish. They would be regular men, greatly outnumbered by those who wished to aid evil. Indeed, there were several such men with their covetous eyes fixed upon the throne of Valdeon. Backroom deals and alliances were being made as many listened to talk of treason.

He stood quietly, waiting as the old man stared into the empty fireplace. Summoning power to his eyes, he probed Benito’s mind gently. Wolf trusted the chancellor, but he had to make sure. No one was above suspicion. Swirling hues of crimson, yellow, and black clung to the chancellor’s body. Terror, feelings of betrayal, grief. The emotions were all there in his energy, but no sign of treachery.

"Are you certain it’s missing?"

"The location of the Lion’s Ring has been blocked from us," Wolf told him. "Cardinal Dragon can’t explain why the Jalora remains silent."

Dragon was the highest-ranking ranger in the legion. It was rumored the Jalora sent him direction for its legion in visions. Wolf smoothed at the worn silver adorning his belt. The Jalora had hidden much from its faithful servants. It had kept Leo’s location from them, hiding him in mists of darkness. Wolf 's frustration came to him again. He quickly let it go. It was not for him to question the Jalora’s perfect wisdom. He had faith it knew best for the legion and Andara. Wolf rested his life and the lives of his family in such faith.

Benito leaned his forehead against the cold stone. He, with the help of the Lords of Valdeon, had held a feuding country from the brink of civil war for two years. The bright light of hope they had shared was the promise of Leo’s return. Now the king was dead, his ring and the orb lifeless. Hope had deserted them. Wolf took the old man by the arm and helped him into a chair. He poured a glass of spice wine and put it to Benito’s lips. He stood away, allowing the chancellor to gain composure. They had much to discuss. It was best to give Benito a chance to muster his nerve.

He took a strong military stance before the chancellor, projecting confidence and strength. As a ranger, Wolf could not lie. The Jalora would not allow it. He could, however, omit his own worry and confusion from their conversation. In the coming days, it would be crucial for all to see the Lords of Valdeon as their pillars of strength. The Lion Ring was the key to the safety of Andara. When news of its disappearance reached others, their world would be thrown into chaos. It was critical the legion and Valdeon be of one mind upon their course of action.

"What is to be done?" Chancellor Benito's voice was little more than a whisper.

"We must wait for the Jalora to reveal the ring’s location. I would sleep better if I could be certain Julian does not have it."

Benito turned to regard him. Cheeks sunken with age and worry drooped in disapproval. His shriveled lips struggled to remain expressionless. "Can’t you put aside your family pride at such a time?"

"Why can’t you see the black heart behind Julian’s sincere face? He is not the grief-stricken son you believe him to be. Where is our wayward prince? I don’t see him here paying respect to his father’s memory."

Anger brought the blood back to Benito’s face. He pushed out of the chair with an irritated howl and stalked to the window of his office. It was an old argument between them, one neither would let go. Benito, in his love for Edmund, forgave the many indiscretions of his son. He refused to hear the truth, even from someone who was compelled to tell only truth.

"I have summoned our western prefects. They must know. Perhaps some of Edmund’s old allies will help us look for the ring?"

Wolf said nothing. He had no great faith in the chancellor’s plan. The prefects of the East and West had been in bitter feud while the king still sat upon the throne. Their hatred and rivalry would only grow worse now that the Lion Ring was lost.

"The Lords of Valdeon will help you all we can to maintain control, as will the Legionaries here in San Leonora. Dragon also sends his offer of aid if you need it."

The chancellor wagged his finger. "I don’t require the intervention of the Jalora Legion quite yet, My Lord De Vincente. No matter how much they pressure."