By Blood Betrayed (The Kingsblood Chronicles) (7 page)

“Perfectly understandable, Highness,” she replied, placing her hands flat on the table. “But you are tired and hurt, and I pose no threat to you.”

“You will have to forgive me if I cannot accept your word for that. Who are you, where am I, and how did I come to be here?” he asked, his tone remaining even and level. His father had taught him that
demanding
answers rarely met with success unless one was in an uncontested position of strength. Lian surmised that such a situation did not apply here. The woman obviously recognized him, though he was positive he didn’t know her. He felt somehow that he
should
recognize her, however.

She smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. She was beautiful, and something about her stirred half-forgotten memories, but he couldn’t quite pin them down. “In the south, I am called Dalgarin,” she replied, answering each question in turn. “You are in the lands of Fulnor. And it was I who brought you here, at least in spirit.”

He blinked hard, but quickly. She hadn’t moved. “Dalgarin? You are named for the goddess?”

She shook her head, smiling. “While many daughters are named for Asha or Vedelta, how common do you suppose my name would be?” She gestured calmly toward his seat, which lay overturned on the floor as a result of his rapid ascent.

“Sit down, Lian Evanson. Sit down, before you fall down,” she said calmly.

He carefully sheathed his blade one-handed, then stooped to right his chair, willing himself not to black out. “Am I dead?” he asked as he warily sat down.

She shook her head. “No, not yet. But you are very
close
to death, which is why I can appear to you in this manner. I don’t do this very often, as you might imagine.”

He had been considering that very thought, for direct manifestation was rare, even to loyal disciples of a specific deity. He’d never really given much thought to Dalgarin, the Southron goddess of vengeance, nor her more commonly worshipped aspects of Nashir and K’vas.

“I intend no offense, Lady, but I’m not even a follower,” he said, turning the statement into a question.

“No, you’re not,” she replied, her hands still on the table top. “But you have been wronged, you and your family, and when you gain a moment’s respite from pursuers, your thoughts will turn to me. You are embroiled in a struggle which has maintained my attention for many years. Your present circumstances have granted us an opportunity to talk, and I would like to offer you a choice.”

Lian swallowed hard. Gods rarely personally involved themselves in the affairs of mortalkind, for they followed rules that prevented casual interaction. Lian hadn’t paid much attention to priestly matters, but even so, he had heard of the Great Compact between the gods.

“A choice, Lady?” he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know. In those infrequent occasions when the gods did become personally involved, it typically resulted in a great deal of suffering for the chosen mortals.

She nodded again. “Yes. You have discovered who betrayed your family, have you not?”

He wasn’t certain why she was asking
him
this question, since
she
was the goddess, but he nodded.

“If you manage to escape him and his supporters, you will no doubt wish to avenge the murders of your family. Vengeance is my area of influence, and the reason I have chosen to appear to you. Your weapon is currently guarding your physical body from the wraith and its minions, but she cannot maintain her protection for long. You are fated to regain consciousness before the wraith consumes you, so my bringing you here doesn’t change anything, so long as I return you before Gem’s defenses fall.

“I offer you a choice, Lian: vengeance or justice,” she said, grabbing a pitcher of ale and a glass off the passing maid’s tray. The barmaid stopped abruptly, studied her tray in amazement, then cursed and returned to the kitchens muttering.

The goddess poured ale for herself and refilled Lian’s glass, then sat back in her chair, propping her booted feet on the table.

“I don’t understand,” said Lian, leaving his glass untouched for the moment. “Why must I choose one over the other?”

As he studied the deity appearing in woman’s form before him, he found the depth of her eyes disconcerting. Dalgarin was said to have been a mortal woman not long ago, and had risen by unknown means to the status of goddess. The religion of her devotees was certainly recent, having emerged as a sect only forty or fifty years ago.

She sighed. “Let me be more explicit. In time, you will grow to despise your uncle and his people, Lian. You will want them dead. You will want vengeance for what they have done.

“I’m only bending the rules a little by telling you this, for you would have learned it soon enough. Your entire family is dead, Your Highness; you are the last survivor,” she said matter-of-factly. Lian was amazed at his own impassiveness as she confirmed his suspicions about his family’s fate.

“I am here to offer you the opportunity to become an agent of mine if you so choose. My order will educate you, lend assistance to you, and conceal you from your uncle until you are prepared to return and unleash your retribution against him. With devotion and effort, you could become quite powerful in my service, I believe powerful enough to succeed.

“But I advise you that although you may well achieve vengeance as my agent, you will not attain
justice
,” she said, observing him closely, sipping slowly from her glass.

Lian’s heartbeat was suddenly deafening. As an Agent of Vengeance, a direct servitor of Dalgarin, or as his people knew her, Nashir, he would be provided with the opportunity to make his uncle pay for his betrayal.

“How would killing him fail to serve justice?” Lian asked, thinking quickly. He added, “Also, why don’t I hate him right now?” He was sure that he
should
be consumed with rage, and in such a state, he would never refuse such an offer from Vengeance Herself.

“Allow me to answer your second question first, Highness,” she replied. “The reason for your lack of emotion is that you are separated from your material body, and most of your feelings are products of the physical self. In this ethereal state, your bile cannot rise in anger, nor can your bowels loosen in fear. It’s why you aren’t drunk even though you’ve had a full pitcher of Fulnor’s rather strong ale.”

He had suspected that his near-emotionless condition had something to do with the unearthly state into which he had been drawn. “And justice, Lady?” he asked, attempting to be polite yet refusing to be diverted from his question. It was another lesson that his Machiavellian tutor had taught him, not to allow a skilled conversationalist to distract him from his subject.

She smiled. “Well, should you become my agent, or even my priest if that honor attracts you, I can help you a great deal. My priestly orders are small, and my followers are few in number, which grants me some latitude to intervene on their behalf.

“But if you choose to be my agent, Lian Evanson, you cannot be a king,” she explained. “
I
must always be of primary importance, not Dunshor.” He found her gaze unnerving, for her eyes were not those of a human being, although they had appeared so at first glance. They were infinitely deeper.

“So my people suffer the annihilation of the entire family line, and there will be no king?” he asked.

“No.
Someone
will be king, Highness. You may be allowed to contribute to his selection. Furthermore, you may even gain the support of the majority of the nobles for your choice,” she broke off, not finishing the thought.

Lian picked up where she left off, falling naturally into the statement-and-reply teaching mode that Elowyn had used. “But there will be those who are unhappy with the choice, and will always maintain that their candidate had the better claim. They’ll eventually revolt, maybe with the support of a bordering nation, and the result will be civil war.”

She nodded approvingly. “You impress me, Highness. Yes. The most probable outcome will be that your people will in the end be conquered by one of your neighbors, and eventually all that was Dunshor will fade from memory.

“So you will have vengeance, but your people will not have justice. You are now the ruler, and as such you have to ask yourself what comes first: your desire, or their needs.”

“I can see only one alternative, Lady,” he said after a short consideration. “I’d be betraying my family’s memory and honor if I choose you. Um, no offense, goddess.” For a moment, he looked like the scared child that he was.

She sighed and smiled. “I am not offended, young prince. In fact, though I would have welcomed you into my priesthood, I am glad you have declined. Remember always that I never said that you cannot still have your revenge, Highness. You’ve simply chosen to make it secondary to restoring your throne,” she said.

He nodded, finally drinking some of the second round of ale. It
was
very good. “A question, Lady?”

She raised an eyebrow and nodded.

“Why did you bring me here to this land?” he asked. It still made no sense to him.

“Ah,” she said, her intense eyes glinting slightly with amusement. “I knew you’d be cold, so I picked somewhere warm.” Her eyes seemed to expand, as his surroundings darkened. “Fare thee well, Prince Lian. I wish you good fortune on your journey.”

He tried to respond, but his voice made no sound. The darkness of her eyes surrounded him, and then all was black.

***

Gem’s powers were strained to their limit. The wraith had begun driving the spectral rats into the barrier she was maintaining, and she could sense other entities approaching, attracted to the conflict. When her energy was depleted and her charge was killed, it wouldn’t finish her, for she was protected from the Undead within her body of alloyed
lashthirin
and steel.

But Lian would be dead, and she would be stranded in the Tower until a brave explorer found and appropriated her. She had no doubt that one of Rishak’s men would be the person to do so, and her fate would be sealed.

Her relief nearly provoked a fatal hesitation when she sensed Lian’s returning consciousness.
Lian
! she shouted mentally.
Lian, wake up now! We’re almost out of time! I can’t protect you much longer.

He replied, mental tone clear and unwavering despite his recent ordeal,
I’m awake, Gem, but blind and deaf. Can you sustain the wards for a little longer?

Possibly, or maybe I can enable you to see through my senses. It won’t be sight like you’re used to, but . . .

No, I can’t stand yet; everything is still numb. It’ll fade in a bit, don’t worry
, he replied, confident that he was right.

She mentally shook her head, hoping that he was correct in his assumption. The wraith hadn’t yet sensed Lian’s return to consciousness, and was occupied with coercing a pair of the rats into the blue flames. These two had witnessed their predecessors’ demise, and were therefore striving to evade the specter.

Lian forced himself to lie motionless despite the agony of reawakening limbs, to wait for the temporary loss of sight and hearing to recede. He had faith in what the goddess had told him, that he was not fated to die at the hands of the wraith.

Too soon, the wraith seized the squealing and shrieking rats, and hurled their ghostly forms one after the other into the flames. They vanished in a blue-white flare, and for an instant the protective circle actually flickered. The wraith advanced hungrily, then halted as the fire was quickly restored by the sword’s song. The effort required to do this was too great, however, and Gem sank to the floor, where she came to rest beside Lian’s hand. The radiance emanating from the heart of the emerald grew dim.

I knew that you would fail, sword spirit
, the wraith gloated into Gem’s mind. Lian also heard the remark, but made no response. Sensation had returned to his right arm and both legs, though he couldn’t feel his left shoulder and arm at all. His hearing had also been restored, for the low, steady thrums of power that Gem was sustaining had become discernible to his ears.

Gem, show me the situation
, he asked.

She did so, her mental touch saturated with exhaustion.

Do you have enough power left to enchant your blade’s edge
? he asked, gathering the energy to force himself to his feet. The spell she’d used at the beginning of the fight with the wraiths had been quite effective. He felt a little better than he had in the vision, and wondered if the meal had strengthened him somehow.

I’m sorry, lad, but my magic’s almost completely depleted. It’ll be days before I can sing another spell
, she said.
When the circle collapses, which it certainly will with the next poor shade he throws into it, that’ll be it. You couldn’t have cut it closer, I can tell you
.

He didn’t seem overly concerned at her admonishment.
Sorry to have kept you, Gem. It’ll be all right, I promise.
His words carried such conviction that she wondered briefly if the wraith’s touch had driven him mad. That happened sometimes, according to legend.

The wraith, meanwhile, had captured another ghostly rat, and returned to fling it into the circle of flames. It understood that the weapon’s arcane capacity was depleted, and it was impatient to finish its meal. Gem imagined that it was grinning gleefully, though she couldn’t actually see its features. It threw the rat into the flames, poised to follow and consume the remainder of the boy’s soul.

The resultant blue-white flash was slightly brighter than before, as Gem projected the remainder of her mana into it.
Now, Lian
! she exclaimed as she saw the wraith pursue the rat’s trajectory through the flames in anticipation of the final attack. Her senses weren’t blinded by the flares and flashes, as Lian’s and the wraith’s would be.

Lian seized the sword hilt and struggled to his knees, slashing at the wraith with every vestige of will he could muster. “Die, you shit!” he howled as the phantasmal robes were sliced by the Truesilver weapon’s enchanted blade. The wraith hurriedly reversed its course, darting back out of striking distance, clutching its arm against the wound. Pain was something to which it had become unaccustomed.