Rise of Darkness (The Watchers Book 2) Page 6

  He began to write the letters with fervor. There were three men he needed these orders to be carried out to. He had assigned his own lieutenants without the consent of the High Protector. One in charge of cavalry, one in charge of infantry, and one in charge of archery. When Rhada was in command, she relied upon her two captains to carry out orders, but Theodoric was only one man. He could not give orders to an entire army all on his own.

  He finished the first letter and began with the second, copying the orders nearly word-for-word. By the time his maid came to light the candles, he had all three letters finished and he ordered her to deliver them to the names scribed on the outside. She left in haste, sensing his urgency.

  Theodoric pushed himself away from the desk and stood. He swayed for a moment on uneasy feet, already feeling the effects of the silver spirit. He shuffled over to the hearth and fell back into his chair as his thoughts now turned to the magical blade. He wondered how it would feel to have the sword bound to him. He could almost feel the hard leather of the hilt as he imagined it in his grasp. He could hear the song of its hum ringing in his ears. He closed his eyes and listened, imagining the blade’s power pulsing within his own veins.

  With the image of Bloodbinder strong in his mind, he slipped into unconsciousness and dreamt of swords and battles and bloodied men.

  Footsteps near him made him jump in his chair. Theodoric twisted and opened his eyes to find Bayard and Barrett standing before him. They looked to him with confusion until they saw the empty glass sitting next to his feet.

  “Scold us for havin’ a few ales! But look at you! Drinkin’ yerself into unconsciousness.” Bayard shook his head in disappointment, the same as Theodoric had done to them earlier.

  Theodoric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood slowly, knowing he would be dizzy if he stood too fast. Theodoric rarely imbibed, but when he did it always hit him hard. Barrett offered a hand in aid and helped pull him to his feet. When he looked to the window he saw the dense blackness of night and he knew he had slept far too long.

  “What is the hour?” He asked anxiously. He pushed himself through the two men and towards his front door. He opened it to let in some fresh air, hoping it would help wake him.

  “Nearly midnight.” Barrett answered. Theodoric spun around in shock and stared at Barrett in disbelief.

  “That cannot be!” He shouted, hoping Barrett was jesting.

  “Tis true.” Bayard confirmed. “And we came to tell you that we’ve slept off our afternoon ales and are ready for that special assignment you had for us.”

  “We were also asked to tell you that the army is ready to march.” Barrett added.

  Theodoric turned and stuck his head out the door to see his army already gathered in the streets, ready to begin their march on Bhrys. He sighed with relief and turned back to Bayard and Barrett.

  “I want the two of you to follow the main road towards South Fort. Along your way you are to look for any signs of the High Protector. If you find her, you are to inform her that it is the King’s orders she return at once.” Theodoric moved away from the door and began packing the few things he would need for his journey.

  “What if we do not find her?” Bayard asked.

  Theodoric did not stop packing as he answered; “then continue on to North Fort and Tyos if you must! She must be brought back.” Once he was finished, he grabbed his sword last and hoisted his pack over his shoulder. When he turned back to Bayard and Barrett, he could not help but notice the look of disappointment the brothers seemed to share upon their faces.

  “You do not wish for us to travel to Bhrys with you?” Barrett asked.

  “No. This is an order straight from the King. Now make haste! We haven’t much time.” With that, Theodoric walked past them and out into the cool night air. His horse had already been pulled from the stable and was waiting for him. Theodoric strapped his pack to the saddle, slid his sword inside its holster and mounted. Once he was atop, the page next to him blew the horn and the thundering sound of hundreds of horse hooves pounding into the soft ground followed. Theodoric turned his head and managed to get a glimpse of Bayard and Barrett standing in his doorway as he rushed past them and out of sight. They had better leave now! If they do not make it back in time with the High Protector, it shall not matter whether we win this war or not, the King will have my head on a spike nonetheless.

  Bayard fumbled with the buckle on his belt for a few moments before realizing that it was broken and tossing it aside carelessly. He dug through his trunk, pushing aside old shirts and pants that he never wore anymore until he found his brown leather belt. The fit was a bit tighter than the last time he had worn it but he sucked in his gut and buckled it quickly. He then strapped his sword to his belt and threw his traveling cloak on.

  “I don’t understand why it must be us who have to fetch the High Protector!” Barrett complained from across the room. He was strapping his quiver around his shoulders then carefully lifted his bow off the bed.

  Though the two men were twins, they did not resemble each other in the slightest. One could even argue that it was impossible they were related. Where Bayard was tall and muscular, Barrett was short and bone-thin. This was the reason Bayard preferred the sword and Barrett preferred the bow. Barrett’s scruffy, dark hair contrasted with Bayard’s nearly white mane. The only thing the two men had in common was their short, neatly trimmed beards and their love for women and ale.

  “Someone must go.” Bayard replied. He stood facing his brother. Barrett scoffed at his response.

  “Why doesn’t the King send some of his guards after her?” This he asked spitefully as he threw the last of his clothes into his pack, tied it up and slung it over his shoulder.

  The two men left their home side-by-side and made their way to the stables.

  “You know t’was Theodoric’s idea to send us, not the King’s. He knows we are the fastest riders in Axendra an’ if he is sending us, then finding her must be an urgent matter.”

  Bayard stepped inside the stables first and found them completely empty except for their two steeds. The stable boy had already saddled them for their journey. Bayard threw his pack over the saddle and Barrett did the same.

  “You are right, brother. It must be an urgent matter indeed. I am just disappointed.” Barrett and Bayard pulled their horses from the stables and mounted at the same time.

  “And why are you so disappointed?” Bayard asked.

  “Because I have a girlfriend in Bhrys that I was rather excited to see.”

  “You have a girlfriend everywhere you go!” Bayard said laughing.

  “Yes, but this one is special. She knows all the right places to touch a man.” Barrett said with a smile.

  Bayard could not help but laugh loudly. “Let’s find the High Protector, then we have a war to fight, and if you should live, I’ll accompany you to Bhrys and perhaps find a girlfriend for me self.”

  They stood patiently by the gate as the guards pulled it open then kicked their steeds into a trot and vanished into the dark of night.

  Chapter 7

  Queen Scarlet was awakened early that morning by a crow that had landed on the veranda and began crying out loudly in protest. She angrily threw the blankets away from her naked body and rushed to the balcony where she found the crow staring at her with curious eyes. It cocked its head slightly as she stood looking back at it, and when she took another step closer, it cawed angrily at her, spread its wings and flew away. She scowled at the fowl as it made its escape, wishing she could have had her small vengeance for the rude awakening. She would have given it to the cook and told him she was having crow for breakfast.

  She stood and watched as the bird disappeared from her view, vanishing into the rising sun as a ball of black feathers swallowed by flame. She turned her gaze to the orange glow of the morning light that danced on the horizon and found herself smiling at the sight of it. It had been many years since she had witnessed a sunrise and since she was already awake,
she was determined to enjoy it. She stepped back inside quietly, as to not wake her snoring husband, poured herself a glass of white wine, slipped her arms into her silk robe and walked back to the balcony where she leaned on her elbows and sipped her wine slowly.

  She watched as the light began to grow in intensity and spread itself throughout the valley below. The tops of the trees of The Forest of Shadows were illuminated, making it seem as though the dark ground beneath was covered in a blanket of green.

  She sighed and relaxed her shoulders as she took another sip. Her eyes darted past the forest and to the city below. Queen Scarlet knew the army had already begun its march north. And though the idea of Axendra being unguarded left an anxious beating in her breast, she sighed with complacency. Bhrys will succumb to their King’s commands. So long as Lord Ivran is kept at bay until they return, our victory will be absolute. She took another long drink of the wine, satisfied to know this was her doing. If Firion could see past his anger, he would have sent the army after Bhrys the moment he had Lady Ashryn killed. She looked back at her sleeping husband and smiled. That is why he needs me. I can see past the anger and hopelessness and always find a way to come out the victor.

  Suddenly, the Queen remembered her secret guest. She set her now empty wine glass down and made her way to the door. She opened it carefully, preventing the old hinges from screeching, and stepped into the still darkened hallway of the castle.

  She kept her pet six floors below her chamber and practically ran down those steps. She had not been to see him since Firion had returned and she found her heart pounding with excitement. She knew she was close to breaking his spirit. She wanted him to bend the knee to her more than anything- to do her will and succumb to her every beck and call. She wanted to make him love her. She could create an entire army of slaves- all men who loved her- who would do anything for her, and Emeric would be her Captain. The time was approaching when she would need an army of her own- a gift for an old friend who would be returning to her.

  Once outside his door, she stood quietly for a moment and listened. The sound of his pained moans could be heard from the other side and she smiled to herself triumphantly. She pictured him lying in there on the bed, stretched out for her own enjoyment-his soft, pale face and quivering green eyes staring at her with that intense, livid gaze that set her skin on fire- his long, scraggly beard tickling her chin as she forced her lips upon his. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen and the mere thought of him sent her into convulsions of pleasure. Sometimes when he was sleeping, unaware of her presence near him, she would stand leaned against the opposite wall, staring at his naked body. She could not get enough of the sight of him.

  She pulled a candle from its sconce off the wall before pushing the door open and stepping inside. She realized he had been locked in this dark chamber without company for days. The only company allowed to him was the maid she had employed to take care of the prisoner- change his bedpan, wash him down with wet cloths and change the sheets from underneath him. The old woman she had entrusted the tasks to was a mute. There was no chance of her squealing to the other maids about him.

  He squinted against the tiny bit of light the flame from her candle threw at him. She walked to his bedside and lit the candle next to him with the one she held. She set it gently on the table and turned her attention to the man who lay helplessly in the bed.

  “Please!” He whispered. His throat was dry and just hearing the sound of his raspy voice made Scarlet thirsty.

  She placed a finger to his lips. “Shhh.” She told him and she sat on the bed next to him and began stroking his bare chest.

  “Please just kill me.” He whispered again but Scarlet ignored his plea and pulled her robe down off her shoulders. She watched as a single tear puddled in the corner of his eye and trickled down his cheek. This made her throw her head back and laugh. The tear was a sign that she had won. His cry for death assured her that he no longer found any joy in life and soon, she knew, he would be ready to join her. If he did not, she would turn him over to her husband and let Firion finish him. This she knew was a fate no one in the realm would wish to have bestowed upon them.

  Scarlet leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. She could taste the salt of the tear and it tasted like victory. She pulled away and smiled down at him. He looked back to her but his eyes had glazed over and she knew he could not see. He had pulled himself away from her, into a secret world of his mind where no one could touch him. Scarlet did not let this bother her. She felt her body grow warm at his touch and stood, letting the rest of her robe fall to the floor.

  As she climbed back onto the bed, her attention was never drawn to the rat that scurried around the edges of the room towards the door and disappeared underneath the gap. The rat ran as quickly as its little legs could carry it, down the corridor and to another room where it pushed itself underneath the gap and stopped. Suddenly it began to grow and take shape until it stood as a woman.

  Myranda grabbed her own robe and wrapped it around her naked body. She tried her best to rub the goose bumps that had formed on her arms away but she could not get rid of them.

  She had woken late that night from a vision. Lately her visions brought her nothing but grief, but this vision filled her heart with joy. It was Mayvard, traveling on horseback towards her. She knew he was close, she could feel him and now she knew, without a doubt, that he was alive. Though she could sense the distress he felt, her heart beat with joy at the thought of his return.

  It was her first instinct to rush and tell the King that Mayvard and Rhada were returning to them, but when she jumped out of bed to get dressed, she heard something strange from the grounds below. She walked to her balcony and peered over the edge to see the army gathering on the main road. Far off in the distance, the city gates were pulled open and the army began to flood the outside world.

  All the joy in her heart fled and she watched in disbelief as the army left the city. When the last of the soldiers disappeared, Myranda crawled back into her bed and pulled the blankets to her chin. She spent the rest of the night staring at her dark room and thinking about how they were all doomed. With no army to guard them, the rebels could storm into the city easily and burn the castle down. Even though Mayvard was returning to her, she felt as though all hope was lost.

  Determined to have another vision of the future, Myranda closed her eyes and forced herself to sleep. When she woke again, the darkness of her room was brightening into a faint, morning glow, and she had not had so much as a dream. She angrily threw the blankets aside and decided the King had to be awakened, but the memory of the last time she woke him came rushing back to her mind and she decided to wake him without his knowing it was her. She walked to her balcony and stood at the very edge. She felt her body shake and shift, taking on the form of a bird. She stretched her wings out to feel their power and soon she was sailing through the chilly morning air. She landed on the King’s balcony and could see he and his Queen still slept peacefully in their bed, oblivious to the fact that the army had just abandoned them.

  As loudly as her little voice box could manage, Myranda let out a ‘caw’ to awaken the King. It was Queen Scarlet, however, who rolled over angrily in her bed and made her way to the balcony. Myranda was startled by the look in the Queen’s eyes. It was a murderous glare, one that suggested Myranda should not let the Queen get her hands on her. Scarlet stretched her hands out before her as though she meant to grab Myranda, and Myranda knew the time to flee had come. She flew away towards the forest until she knew the Queen could no longer see her.

  Myranda circled back towards the castle but did not return to her room. Instead, she found an open window of the corridor and flew inside, instantly shifting to a rat and making her way back to the King and Queen’s chamber.

  She found the Queen sipping on a glass of wine and staring down to the city below. She stood quietly for a few moments, watching the sunrise over the horizon. When the Queen finished her wine, she carefully
left the room, making certain not to wake the King.

  Curiosity got the better of Myranda and she followed the Queen down six flights of stairs and to a room she had never been to before. She was utterly shocked when she found Emeric inside, begging for death. By the look and smell of the room, he had been there for quite some time. When she realized what the Queen was about to do to him, she could not bring herself to stay and watch.

  Now that she stood on her balcony once more, Myranda felt she could not breathe. She tried closing her eyes and taking in long, deep breaths but nothing worked. Her heart pounded harshly in her chest and her hands began to shake uncontrollably.

  I should help that poor man. She told herself. She opened her eyes once more and let the morning light fill her vision. How can I help him escape? She wondered. She wished that she had some skill with the sword or bow, but she was not a fighter and she knew the moment she freed poor Emeric from his prison they would be surrounded by castle guards. Her shifting abilities were strong enough for her to turn others into animals as well but this was more dangerous than facing the castle guards. Without proper training, the animal mind would take over and the shifter would completely forget who they were and become the animal. She would not be able to control him and if he ran off, chances of ever finding him and changing him back were very slim.

  Never before had Myranda felt so helpless and alone. She leaned forward on the balcony and could not stop tears of frustration from falling down her cheeks. She knew the King had an evil heart but the Queen had always been kind to Myranda. The knowledge of what the Queen had kept hidden so well, her ability to destroy a man slowly and painfully, crept up Myranda’s spine and made her very soul shudder. She knew now why the army had fled- they knew they were fighting for the wrong side. No one with a decent heart would stand by the King and Queen’s side and watch as they tear the realm apart. No one could willingly help them desecrate a man such as Emeric or poor Terryn the way the King and Queen had done and feel as though they had done their country a great service. No soldier, whose pride for his country and love for his people was strong, could fight under the banner of lies and betrayal and violence that the King carried with him to battle. This was a war of good and evil and Myranda knew she had stayed on the wrong side for far too long. She had been an accomplice and she knew that someday very soon she would be held accountable for what she had helped the King and Queen accomplish.