Part 46 (1/2)
Adele placed one finger over her lips. ”I won't let them take you. Whatever protection I can give you, is yours. But as for Jagu, if he's already in the clutches of Inquisitor Visant, that may prove rather more difficult.”
”There is one more mission that I have been charged to carry out.” Celestine slipped Enguerrand's letter out from her bodice and handed it to Adele. ”But please, dear Adele, steel yourself, for it is extraordinary and unexpected news.”
Adele looked quizzically at her and unrolled the letter, smoothing it out on her lap to read it. Celestine watched anxiously, fearing that, given the young queen's fragile condition, the news might prove too much of a shock. She saw Adele's eyes widen, then fill with tears. She gazed at Celestine. ”He's alive? You've seen him? Is he well?” She wiped away a tear, laughing. ”Look at us, crying like two silly schoolgirls!”
”He's recovering from a fever, but he is well, considering how close he came to drowning,” said Celestine, joining in the tearful laughter. ”But I wondered how this news might affect his majesty, King Ilsevir...”
Adele's expression became distant, almost wistful, and the laughter faded. ”Ilsevir...” she repeated. ”There cannot be two kings. What will happen now? This could lead to civil war.” She looked down at her brother's letter again. ”Enguerrand asks me to say nothing of this until he makes his return. Very well. His secret is safe with me.” She scrunched the paper up into a ball and tossed it onto the logs in the grate. As it flared up, the door suddenly burst open and a white-haired man in black robes came in, followed by four armed Guerriers.
”What is the meaning of this intrusion, Maistre Donatien?” Adele could sound just as intimidating as her mother when she chose to. ”How dare you disturb me without even having the courtesy to knock?”
Celestine instinctively moved closer to Adele.
”I'm sorry to disturb you, your majesty, but this young woman is very dangerous.” Donatien seemed not in the least deterred by Adele's reaction. ”I have no idea how she gained access to your private apartments, but as she is known to practice the Forbidden Arts, I can only a.s.sume that-”
”If you mean Demoiselle de Joyeuse, then I have granted her my protection.” Adele stared at Maistre Donatien, as if daring him to challenge her authority. ”My royal royal protection.” protection.”
”What's all the fuss about?” A door opened on the far side of the fireplace and Ilsevir appeared, in a robe de chambre of dove-grey brocade. Celestine instantly dropped into a deep curtsy and Donatien bowed. ”Grand Maistre, why have you brought armed men into our private salon?”
”Sire, I apologize for the disturbance-” began Donatien but he broke off as Adele suddenly sank back onto the sofa. Celestine, alarmed, rose to hurry to her side.
”Stay away from the queen!” shouted Donatien. Two of the Guerriers seized Celestine by the arms, restraining her.
”No,” said Adele faintly. ”She... is not to be... harmed...”
”Adele, what's wrong?” Ilsevir took her hand and started to pat it ineffectually. But Adele's eyes had closed and she did not answer his question.
Donatien turned on Celestine. ”You've laid some kind of sorcery on the queen, you witch!”
”I've done nothing of the kind!” Celestine cried.
”Adele?” Ilsevir was anxiously calling his wife's name. ”Get help, Donatien! Summon the royal physician.”
Faie, help me. Help me now. But Celestine's silent plea went unanswered and as servants came running in response to the king's cries, the Guerriers began to drag her out of the apartment. But Celestine's silent plea went unanswered and as servants came running in response to the king's cries, the Guerriers began to drag her out of the apartment.
”Demoiselle, you're under arrest,” said Donatien curtly. ”Take the witch away. Take her to the Forteresse.”
CHAPTER 8.
”Prince Nagazdiel is here?” Sardion's eyes glittered. Through Nagazdiel's vision Rieuk could see the dark desire burning in the Arkhan's heart. ”You've brought him to me at last?” He came closer to Rieuk, his hands reaching out as if to embrace the Drakhaoul within him. ”My dread lord,” he said, staring at Rieuk, through Rieuk. ”At last I can bid you welcome. My family has watched over Ondhessar for centuries, waiting for this day to come.” And then to Rieuk's amazement, he dropped to his knees and prostrated himself. ”I offer myself to you, my prince. Please use my body as your vessel in this mortal world.”
”Lord Arkhan, is that wise?” Rieuk began. ”Is your body strong enough? Can your blood sustain a Drakhaoul?”
Sardion glared at him with his wild, hungry eyes. ”You've fulfilled your purpose, Emissary Mordiern. I have no more need of you now.”
”Sardion of Enhirre, is this truly what you want?” Nagazdiel spoke through Rieuk, his voice adding a deep, dark richness to Rieuk's natural tone. Nagazdiel spoke through Rieuk, his voice adding a deep, dark richness to Rieuk's natural tone. ”And once we are bonded, you will do my bidding?” ”And once we are bonded, you will do my bidding?”
”I was born to serve you, my lord.”
Rieuk looked down with contempt at the man who had held him so long in thrall, groveling at his feet.
”Then come closer.” Rieuk felt the Drakhaoul concentrating all his energy to transfer himself from his body to the Arkhan's. The Arkhan began to move toward him, as if in a trance, until they stood close together, forehead pressed to forehead.
The Drakhaoul's dark energy came flooding up through Rieuk, pouring out through his mouth and into Sardion's, in a hot, s.h.i.+mmering flood.
The instant the Drakhaoul had left his body, Rieuk slumped to the floor, drained. For a moment everything faded to a blur. Then he heard laughter; low at first, then rising to a manic pitch. Sardion had thrown back his head and was standing gazing down at his outstretched hands as if he had never seen them before, his whole body shaking with triumphant laughter. Little flickers of fiery energy crackled from his fingertips.
”This is-astounding! I feel so strong. So powerful!”
Rieuk caught a telltale flash of dark crimson in Sardion's eyes as the Arkhan flexed his shoulders, evidently relis.h.i.+ng his newfound strength. Sardion extended one hand, pointing his index finger at a tall vase of beaten bronze, loosing a bolt of daemonic energy. The vase glowed white-hot, and suddenly collapsed in on itself, reduced to a pool of molten metal.
”This is the power I was born to wield!” cried Sardion ecstatically. ”We will go to Ondhessar. We will show the Rosecoeurs who is the true master of Enhirre.” And without a backward glance at Rieuk, he threw open the doors and strode away, calling for his guards.
”My lord, be careful, I beg of-” Rieuk checked himself. Why should he care what became of Sardion? Headstrong, cruel, impulsive, the Arkhan only cared about fulfilling his own ambitions. He had sent Oranir into the Rift as a living sacrifice to Nagazdiel, not caring what became of him, as long as he achieved his heart's desire.
”Ran,” Rieuk whispered, focusing on his true purpose. He went straight to Sardion's desk, tugging open drawers, frantically searching for the ebony casket in which the Arkhan had placed the new Lodestar. He could barely detect the crystal's presence; within the gold-veined marble walls of Sardion's apartments, its clear vibrations were muted. With his good eye closed, he searched blind, relying on his senses to lead him to it, just as, long ago in Karantec, he had been drawn to Azilis's Lodestar. His heart was thudding hard against his breastbone; he could be discovered at any moment.
His fingers closed on a wooden box hidden in the depths of a drawer. He could feel the faint pulse within, s.h.i.+vering through the carved ebony. He drew out the box and opened it. Nestling within lay the crystal purity of the Lodestar-his Lodestar, that he had fas.h.i.+oned with such care deep in the Rift. Lodestar, that he had fas.h.i.+oned with such care deep in the Rift.
A burst of aethyric fire, red as blood, lit the darkening sky above Ondhessar. Rieuk looked back over his shoulder as he made his way back to the Hidden Valley, feeling the ground trembling ominously beneath his feet.
”How long can Sardion's body sustain such an outpouring of power?” he muttered. ”He hasn't a drop of mage blood in his veins.” He had to get to Ondhessar as soon as he could.
”Rieuk?” Lord Estael hurried out to greet him. Aqil and Tilath hovered in the doorway of the Tower, watching. ”What's happening at Ondhessar?”
”Sardion,” Rieuk said, trying to regain his breath. ”He's taking his vengeance on the Enhirrans.” He thrust the ebony casket into Estael's hands. ”Please-whatever happens-guard this with your life until I return. It's the Lodestar.”
”You stole it from the Arkhan?” Estael said, frowning.
”It was never Sardion's in the first place.” Why was Estael still so obdurate in his support of the Arkhan? ”Sardion has treated us all like dirt. It's time to make a stand against him. It's time to break free.”
”Are you mad?”
”And it's my only chance to save Oranir.” Rieuk pushed past the elder magi, making for the subterranean way that led back into Azilis's shrine.
”Rieuk, come back. Come back!”
He heard their voices calling after him down into the deep shaft but ignored them, pressing on into the darkness.
He had failed to save Imri. He had been too young, too inexperienced, to defend him against Linnaius. But he was older and maybe a little wiser, and he was d.a.m.ned if he was going to lose Oranir too.
Rieuk came out by the magi's concealed door into the empty shrine. Candles of creamy wax were burning in the little alcoves, and a bunch of fragrant white lilies lay where Azilis's statue had stood. Strange that the Rosecoeurs should still keep her memory alive here even though they had stripped the shrine of her precious relics.