Gregory Keyes - The Blood Knight

“Not very likely,” she assured him.

“Look there,” said lone, the ancient Sefry who had led them to this high aerie. He pointed, flinching as his hand came in contact with the light. Fend and his warriors wouldn’t have any such worry; the westering sun had already filled the valley below with shadow.

Stephen leaned a little farther and saw what the old man was pointing at: a pool of deep blue water. And as if on cue, the woorm—khriim?—suddenly erupted from it.

“Saints,” Stephen prayed, “let me have done the right thing.”

Aspar froze for an instant, then grabbed for the pack on his back, cursing his luck. Naturally he would have his best shot at the thing when his bow was unstrung.

He fumbled out the watertight bag and pried at its fastening, but the wax made it tough to get the knot open, especially when he found himself glancing up at the woorm every few heartbeats. It grasped at the trees with its short forelimbs, dragging its tail from the pool, rearing almost as high as Aspar sat. A perfect target…

He heard the whir of an arrow and knew suddenly that the woorm wasn’t the only easy target. He heard it skip off the stone behind him. That meant the only place it could have come from was…

There.

Fend and his companion were in the monsters saddle, and the companion was taking aim at Aspar again. Cursing, he levered himself up just as a red-fletched missile struck his boot. He didn’t feel any pain, but the impact and his reaction sent him tumbling toward the edge. He threw his arms out to catch himself…

… and watched his bow, the string, and the black arrow fall toward the forest floor.

“Ah, sceat,” he snarled.

He spent exactly one heartbeat deciding what to do next. Then he leapt for the nearest treetop, some five kingsyards below him.

The presence of the Kept seemed to uncoil all about her, stretching vaster with each instant, and her bones hummed as if a saw were cutting through them.

Free.

The word struck her as if the Kept had somehow cast it into a lead ingot and hurled it at her. Her breath voided her lungs in a single painful gasp, and her heart felt as if it were liquid with terror. Confidence, command, certainty—all were swept aside, and she was a mouse in an open field, watching the hawk descend.

Free.

There was no joy in the word. No elation, no relief. It was the most vicious sound Anne had ever heard. Tears exploded from her eyes, and she trembled uncontrollably. She had doomed them all, ruined everything . .

Freeeee.

Something cracked like thunder, so loud that her shriek was lost in it.

And then… nothing.

He was gone.

It took what seemed a very long time to regain control of herself and her emotions. She heard the others weeping and knew she wasn’t alone, but that did nothing to ease the humiliation.

Finally, after an age, Austra had the presence of mind to relight the lamp.

Their eyes confirmed that the chamber was empty. It was much larger than she had imagined.

“What have you done?” Alis asked weakly. “Dear saints, what have you done?”

“W-what I thought was best,” Anne managed. “I had to do something.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” Cazio said. •

Anne started to try to explain, but her breath caught, and she suddenly felt like crying again.

“Wait,” she said. “Wait a moment, and I’ll try—”

Something suddenly hammered on the other side of the secret door.

“We’re found!” Austra gasped.

Cazio came to his feet and drew his weapon. He looked shaky, but it gave Anne heart. Screwing up her resolve, she determined to be strong.

“The Kept promised to kill Robert’s men,” she said.

“I’m thinking he lied to you about that,” Alis replied.

“We’ll see,” Anne replied.

“Someone give me a weapon,” Prince Cheiso said weakly but with determination. “I need a weapon.”

Cazio caught Anne’s eye, and she nodded. He proffered the Safnian a dagger. He glanced at the other three men, remembering vaguely there once had been four of them. What had happened to the fourth?

But after the soul bending he’d just experienced, nothing would surprise him.

“What are your names?” he asked the warriors.

“Sir Ansgar,” one of them said. Cazio could just make out a small beard. “These are my bondsmen, Preston Viccars and Cuelm MeqVorst.”

“The passage is narrow,” Cazio said. “We’ll take turns. I’m first; work out the rest of the order among you.”

“I pledged an oath to Sir Leafton that I would face her foes first,” Ansgar replied. “I hope you will allow me to honor that oath.”

Cazio started to object, but Ansgar, after all, was wearing armor. He was probably more suited, so to speak, to the situation.

“I yield the priority,” he said. “But please do not kill them all. Leave some for me.”

The man nodded, and Cazio stepped back, hoping his head would clear a bit more. At least their foe hadn’t made it through a few moments earlier, when they were all still weak. Maybe Robert’s men had been affected, as well.

He’d have to ask Anne exactly what had happened once this was over.

“Maybe they won’t make it through—” Austra began, but suddenly a wand of flickering light appeared in the stone, carving through it. An instant later, not only was the hidden doorway gone, so was a large lump of the passage.

“Saints,” Anne breathed. “He’s got a feysword.”

And indeed, Robert Dare stepped through the gap. Sir Ansgar started forward but paused when the usurper held up his hand.

“Wait a moment,” he said.

“Majesty?” Ansgar asked, glancing at Anne.

“Do as he says,” Anne said. “What do you want, Robert?”

Robert was shaking his head.

“Amazing. He’s gone, isn’t he? You let him go.”

“I did.”

“Why? What could he possibly have promised you? Rut I can guess, can’t I? He told you he would help you defeat me. And yet here I stand, unvanquished.”

“We haven’t begun fighting yet,” Cazio said.

“Did someone ask you to speak?” Robert snapped. “I’ve no idea who you are, but I’m certain neither Her Majesty nor I gave you leave to speak. Stab me if you wish, but please don’t sully my language with that ridiculous accent.”

“Cazio has my leave to speak,” Anne snapped, “and you do not, unless it is to beg forgiveness for your treachery.”

“ My treachery? Dear Anne, you’ve just loosed the last Skasloi upon the world. Do you know how long he’s been planning this? He was the one who taught your mother to curse me, who made me what I have become and broke the law of death. You have fallen into his design and betrayed our entire race. Your treachery outshines mine as the sun does, ah, some small star.”

“You left me no choice,” Anne replied.

“Oh, well, if that’s the case—No, wait , you had at least two other choices. You might have told him no and surrendered to me. Or you might have fought me and died.”

“Or we could fight you and live,” Cazio said.

“ You are becoming annoying,” Robert said, poking the shining blade toward him. “Surrender, Anne, and all of you will live, I promise you.”

Cazio would never know what Anne might have said to that, because Cheiso suddenly rushed forward, howling in anguish, and launched himself at Robert.

The usurper raised his eldritch weapon, but not quickly enough. Cheiso plunged his borrowed dagger into the prince’s chest. Robert promptly thumped him on the head with the hilt of his weapon, but the momentary truce had ended, and the flood had come.

Roberts men surged into the chamber. Cazio leapt toward the prince, but Ansgar was already there, swinging a blow that might have decapitated Robert had he not ducked it, then thrust his feysword into Ansgar’s belly. The weapon went through him as if he were butter, and Robert carved up and out his shoulder, splitting the knight’s upper body into two pieces.