Broken World Book Three - A Land Without Law (29 page)

A winding
staircase led up, and he bounded up them two at a time, forcing his
legs to carry him in spite of their aching fatigue. At the top of
the spire, moonbeams shone through the arched windows to bathe the
piece of staff that lay on a velvet cushion atop an ornate marble
plinth. Sheathing the Starsword, he slid his hands under it and
lifted it, staggering. For its size, it was remarkably heavy, more
than a full grown man. Turning from the dented cushion, he
descended the stairs as fast as his buckling legs would allow,
fresh sweat popping out all over him. At the bottom, he stepped
through the door he had made, back into the dark courtyard.

As he turned
to run for the door, the gates flew open to admit a flood of armed,
torch-bearing men. The garish, leaping brightness illuminated the
broken black bodies that littered the ground and the weird twisted
masses of still glowing rock. A mutter of surprise arose from the
soldiers as they stared at the fallen Torrak Jahar, but Kieran
reeled onwards in his bid for freedom.

"Stop!"

The word rang
out like a whip crack, making Kieran stop despite himself and turn
to face the woman who had spoken. She stood tall and proud, clad in
a long, deep crimson robe trimmed with silver. Behind her, two men
wore similar robes of rich brown edged with gold. Wizards, Kieran
guessed. He turned away to continue his escape, ignoring the latent
threat.

"Stop, or you
die!" she cried.

Kieran plodded
closer to the portal, his arms aching from the weight of his
burden, his back bending under the strain. Deciding that he needed
a rest, and was not about to make a speedy exit with such a heavy
burden, he stopped and put down the stone with a sigh of relief,
turning to face the woman.

He gestured to
the defeated Riders. "If they couldn't stop me, what makes you
think you can?"

"They have no
magic, fool!" she said.

"Ah, and you
do." He met the glowing, hate-filled yellow eyes of one of the
Torrak Jahar.

The woman
strode forward, flanked by the two men, but the soldiers hung back
with the prudence of seasoned men who valued their lives. Kieran
held up his hand. "That's close enough."

The woman
stopped, her hands clenching. "How dare you tell me what to do?
Thief!"

Kieran rubbed
his back, grimacing. "I really don't want to kill you, lady, but if
you force me to I will. So just stay back, and I'll be on my
way."

"You're not
going anywhere! The rest of the black army are on their way back
even as we speak. Do you think you can defeat all of them?"

"Probably not,
which is why I must go." Kieran bent to pick up the stone again,
and the woman raised her arms as she prepared to invoke her power.
He straightened and drew the Starsword with a soft hiss, making her
step back, her gesture faltering.

"I would
advise you to leave me alone," he recommended, waving the blade at
her. "One word from me, and you'll end up like them." He nodded at
the glowing pools of lava.

One of the men
stepped forward. "We're not afraid of you!"

"Then that's
mighty stupid of you."

Kieran bent
and heaved the stone into his arms again with a grunt, holding the
Starsword with difficulty. Unsure that it would protect him in its
scabbard, he kept it in his hand, tucking the stone under his other
arm. He waved the sword at them and started towards the portal
again, wondering how far he would get before his arm grew too tired
to hold the stone. The brown-robed man raised his arms and muttered
a few words, making the same throwing gesture as the fire wizard of
the Arrad. The Starsword lighted with a shimmering flare of rainbow
colours, becoming, for an instant, a thing of incredible beauty.
Kieran continued towards the gate with heavy steps.

The earth
wizard stared at his hands in stunned amazement, and the soldiers
behind him muttered. Undaunted by the failure of her comrade's
magic, the woman stepped forward and raised her arms, murmuring a
string of harsh words. The Starsword flared with a sweet nimbus of
pure colour in a brilliant display of beauty. Like the earth
wizard, the woman was patently astonished, and looked
bewildered.

"Seize
him!"

Another
woman's voice cracked across the courtyard and galvanised the
troops who still hesitated by the gates. Kieran glanced up at a
resplendent female figure atop the wall, clad in a rich crimson
gown and a scarlet cape lined with rare fur, her hair and neck
afire with precious stones. Black-clad figures flanked her royal
person, no doubt advisors and courtiers dragged from their beds to
attend the Queen. Kieran stopped just inside the portal and put the
stone down as the soldiers charged him. He pointed the sword.

"Fire!"

A man at the
forefront burst into flames with a brief, agonised scream and
crumpled in a burning heap. Most of those behind him stopped and
recoiled, scattering from the blazing body. Some ignored their
comrade's fate and came on, forcing Kieran to use the sword again,
immolating two more soldiers before the rest retreated. He spun at
a sound behind him, just in time to roast a man who attacked
through the doorway he had cut in the wall. The rest of the
warriors outside the doorway stopped, muttered and fingered their
weapons.

"Wait!" the
Queen cried belatedly, much to the soldiers' obvious relief. "I
must have that sword! You! Wait there, I will speak to you!"

Kieran
hesitated, glancing at the soldiers who crowded outside the door.
His escape had now become impossible without slaughtering most of
them. Perhaps there was a better way to leave the Queen's palace,
one that involved less killing, or none at all. When the Torrak
Jahar arrived, his flight would be truly impossible, whereas the
Queen's interest in the Starsword could prove to be his ticket
out.

The soldiers
in the courtyard bowed and shuffled aside, clearing a path down
which Queen Larina strode, her vestments sweeping the floor. A
tall, bony woman with a hard angular face, thick brows and sallow
skin, she possessed a queen's regal bearing, which commanded
submission and adulation. She stopped a few paces away and eyed
Kieran, her gaze lingering on the blade that dangled from his
hand.

"Who sent
you?"

He smiled, a
story forming in his mind. "Those who would see your rule ended,
Majesty."

"Why take the
stone?"

"They feel
that without its good fortune your people will turn against
you."

Her lip curled
in contempt. "Are they that stupid? No one would dare to turn
against me, I would have them sacrificed! Where did you get that
sword?"

"It was given
to me by those who hired me. Two great wizards made it, they told
me."

"I have seen
it burn, what else can it do?"

Kieran hefted
the blade, considering it. "Cut rock, ward off magic, and heal
wounds."

"That is...
remarkable." Larina gazed at the sword with avaricious eyes.
"Perhaps we can reach a bargain, you and I?"

"Perhaps we
could."

"Come to my
chambers, we shall have a drink and discuss it." She turned away.
"You two, bring the stone."

Two soldiers
picked up the stone as Kieran followed the Queen, sheathing the
sword. The warriors muttered as he passed through their ranks,
their cold eyes hostile. Larina left the courtyard and started down
a narrow street, Kieran a step behind her, flanked by her advisors.
They had not gone far when the rumble of approaching hooves
heralded the Torrak Jahar's return.

The Riders
appeared from the darkness like shadows, moving into the light that
revealed their ebon forms in a hard glitter. A long column cantered
beside the palace's torch lighted wall to halt before the Queen.
Their armour glinted and their yellow eyes glowed in ugly, twisted
faces. One Rider urged his horse a step closer.

"He is ours,"
it grated with chilling venom.

"No." Larina
raised her chin. "He is mine. He has something I want, and you
shall not harm him."

"You would
bargain with a thief?" The Rider's eyes flared.

"I'll do as I
please," she said. "You've feasted tonight on the dregs of my
people and you'll do as I say, that's our bargain. You have more
souls to gather in your courtyard from your comrades, whom he
defeated. It seems you're not as invincible as you claim to
be."

The Rider's
horse snorted and pawed the ground. "I shall drink his blood
myself!" Its face twisted further, becoming gruesome in its
ugliness.

Kieran kept
his hand on the sword's hilt, unsure that the Queen could control
these monstrosities. Beside him, the advisors had turned grey,
rooted to the spot with terror.

Larina's voice
cracked with command. "You will return to your courtyard and await
my orders!" she shouted. "Now!"

The Riders
hissed, but the one who had come forward nodded, and its steed
stepped back. The Torrak Jahar moved forward again, the column
detouring around the Queen and her party. Larina marched on,
forcing the Riders to sidestep her. The hissing titter of their
weird laughter sliced through Kieran's nerves. Some jabbed at him
with their lances as they passed, making the advisors jump and
squeak with fright. Fortunately, the Trueman group soon reached a
door, for the column of Riders stretched far down the road, and
Kieran did not relish passing so many of them. Their presence made
his hair stand on end and their laughter froze the pit of his
stomach.

A grey and
red-liveried guard bowed and opened the door, admitting the Queen
and her party into a brightly-lighted, silk-hung corridor. They
walked along several of these, then up a flight of broad steps into
a sumptuous room dominated by a cushioned throne. Gauzy silk
festooned marble pillars whose sole purpose was ornamentation, and
a fountain tinkled in the centre of the marble floor. Evidently the
tar that had covered the floors during the war with the land had
since been scraped off, revealing the pale grey marble's beauty
once more.

Certainly the
Queen would not wish to live with the stink of tar once it was no
longer necessary. Heavy, crimson velvet curtains draped massive
windows on one side of the room, and rare animal skins were
scattered on the floor. Stuffed heads snarled on the walls amid
paintings and tapestries, and scantily clad youths in silken
loincloths stood like statues between real stone images of nubile
girls and muscular men. One statue looked a lot like a Mujar, and
Kieran made a point of not staring at it.

Larina settled
on her throne, arranged her rich clothes around her and clapped her
hands. A youth came to life and hurried over to kneel before
her.

"Bring a
table, a stool and some wine," she ordered.

The boy
hastened away as her advisors arranged themselves around her and
the soldiers placed the stone on the floor at her feet, then backed
out, bowing. The table and stool arrived swiftly, carried by more
youths. They poured two cups of wine and handed them to the Queen
and her guest. Kieran sat on the stool and sniffed the wine before
he tasted it. The Queen took a sip from her goblet and leant
forward.

"I'm sure you
can guess the bargain I have in mind," she said.

Kieran nodded.
"The sword for the stone."

"Exactly. That
weapon will bring me more good fortune than the stone, I think.
Whoever sent you to steal it was a fool. I would have struck the
bargain with them, had they offered it. I don't care who they are,
I must have that sword."

Kieran knew
that she was lying, but it did not matter. He was not about to
mention the Starsword's other properties. His eyes narrowed as he
contemplated the ruby wine in his silver goblet. "How do I know you
won't kill me the moment I hand over the sword?"

Larina smiled,
a rictus almost as chilling at the Torrak Jahar's sinister
laughter. "I give you my word, you will not be harmed. Leave the
sword, and you're free to go, with the stone, of course."

Kieran swirled
his wine to distract himself, longing to laugh at her insincere
words. Only a fool would accept her bargain, but for now, he must
be one. "That's it? You don't want to know who sent me?"

"If you have
the urge to tell me, then do so. But I can see that a strong
warrior like you would be immune to torture, so why should I try?
So long as you have that sword you're invincible, it seems, if you
can defeat eight of my black army. Therefore, if I want it, the
only way for me to get it is to be honest with you and offer you a
fair deal."

Kieran hid a
smile. He was by no means invincible, as Tyrander had proven.
Archers could kill him easily enough, for the sword offered no
protection against bolts and arrows, or even spears, for that
matter. The Queen's black army could have overwhelmed him through
sheer numbers, and even she must know that. The Queen pandered to
his ego, flattering him to further her plans. She did want to know
who had sent him, and she also had no intention of losing her
precious Stone of Good Fortune. She had judged him a common
fighting man, with more brawn than brains with an ego to match.
This worked to Kieran's advantage, however, for he could outwit the
Queen easily on these terms. She interrupted his musing.

"You're
unhappy with what I offer? I suppose the stone is no use to you,
but surely your employers will pay you handsomely when you deliver
it to them?"

"They'll be
angry that I lost the sword," he replied, not wishing to appear a
complete moron.

"Yes of
course." She considered this, her eyes narrowed. "It must be very
valuable, priceless. Would you take a bag of silver, more than they
would have paid you? Then if they're so angry that they refuse to
pay you for the stone, you won't have lost."