Broken World Book Two - StarSword (18 page)

"Why isn't he
coming?" he demanded. "The staff tells me that he is moving further
away, gathering his chosen. Why doesn't he care about you?"

"I don't know."
She kept her voice steady somehow.

"You do know,
I'm sure of that, and you'll tell me." The Prince gripped the front
of her jacket and hauled her to her feet, towering over her. With a
metallic snick, he drew a jewelled dagger from his belt and held it
before her flinching eyes. "What tricks do you have up your sleeve
now? Tell me why he isn't coming, or you die." He pressed the
dagger against her neck, nicked her skin and drew a drop of
blood.

Talsy read her
death in his eyes. "Why don't you ask the staff?"

Tyrander's
mouth twisted. "I have. It says that you're in no danger, but you
are. Must he wait until the Hashon Jahar are on the doorstep before
he comes? I want him here now!"

"I wouldn't be
in such a hurry if I was you. When he does come, it won't be to
save you."

"He'll have no
choice, stupid girl. If he wishes to save you, he'll have to
protect my castle."

"No he won't."
She tried to shake her head, but flinched when Tyrander jabbed the
point of the weapon deeper into her skin.

"Don't argue
with me!"

"Ask the
staff!"

"I don't have
to. It will work. I know Mujar. He cannot allow the First Chosen to
die!" The dagger cut deeper, and she smelt stale wine on his breath
as he leant closer to snarl, "He must save me, or Truemankind will
die with me."

"He's Mujar. Do
you think he cares about Truemen? Mujar call us Lowmen. They scorn
us as unworthy savages, doomed by our deeds!"

"He has saved
you before and he'll do it again; your lies don't fool me." He
pressed the dagger against her cheek. "Perhaps I should cut you up
into little pieces, starting with an ear, or nose?"

Talsy yelped as
the blade sliced into her cheek and punched the side of his head,
making him stagger and curse. She tried to wriggle free, but he
sent her sprawling with a back-handed blow. He came after her, a
mad glint in his eyes, the weapon poised to strike.

Chanter froze,
raising his head like a wild animal sensing danger, his attention
diverted from the melting ice wall. Within it, the chosen from the
ship awaited release, some climbing over the waist-high wall to
join the new chosen who made camp outside.

The Mujar
wandered away, frowning, and Shern watched him with growing
concern. As the melted ice wall drained into the ground, an old
woman marched through the mud towards Chanter, and Shern stepped
into her path.

"Leave him be.
Something's wrong."

The woman eyed
him. "I'm Sheera, seeress of these people, and I need to speak to
him."

"Why?"

"I don't see
the girl, Talsy, amongst you, or the warrior, Kieran."

Shern nodded.
"She was kidnapped, and the warrior went after her."

"When? By
whom?"

"Two days ago,
but by whom I don't know, nor does he, I suspect."

Sheera looked
at the pensive Mujar. "Nothing must happen to Talsy."

"I know." Shern
took her arm and led her towards the fire the chosen had built.
"I'm sure he won't let any harm come to her."

Chanter
listened to the pounding of Dolana's warning, gauging its urgency.
Talsy was in danger. Where was Kieran? Why had he not reached her
yet? Or was the danger she faced brought about by his attempted
rescue? There was no way of knowing, nor could he leave his charges
to find out. The danger did not appear to be dire, for Dolana's
drumming was not strong. With a flick of his mind, he sent a
command to the Starsword.

Deep in the
armoury of Tyrander's castle, the Starsword lighted, shining within
its scabbard. The huge man who sweated over the forge's glowing
coals did not notice the muted light, but continued to hammer at a
red-hot strip of metal. The Starsword, flung into a dusty corner,
burnt only briefly, then its fire died.

Kieran gasped
and sat bolt upright, his mind fuddled with sleep, as a lance of
pain stabbed through his head. His eyes swept the strange room and
came to rest on the armoured man who turned from the window to
stare at him. Kieran reached for his sword and found himself almost
naked, and unarmed. The man at the window headed towards him, and
Kieran experienced a rush of panic. Frantically he looked about for
a weapon, grasping at the hope that the Starsword could be summoned
to answer his need.

"Starsword!" he
yelled.

Far below, the
Starsword slid from its scabbard with a soft hiss, floated free and
swung point up. Like an arrow, it flew upwards, passing through the
stone roof and the room above. Here it changed course slightly,
angling towards the room where Kieran was, and passed through
another floor.

Kieran jumped
as the Starsword burst through the centre of the bed in a cloud of
feathers and stopped before him. He plucked it from the air, swung
his legs off the bed, and rose to face stranger, who, after a
moment of stunned immobility, fell to one knee.

"My Prince.
Don't be alarmed, we mean you no harm."

Kieran clutched
his throbbing head. "Who the hell are you? Where's Ardel? Where am
I, and why do I have such a bloody headache?"

Roth bowed his
head. "Highness, you are in Ardel's quarters. He has gone to speak
to Tyrander, and I am Captain Roth, at your service." He hesitated.
"As to your head, I don't know, perhaps it was the sleeping
draught."

Kieran glared
around at several soldiers, who bowed their heads as his eyes
passed over them. "Okay, so what's going on? Why were my clothes
and sword taken?"

"Your clothes
have been washed, your armour polished. Your sword... I thought it
useless, for it could not be drawn from its scabbard."

Kieran lowered
the Starsword, finding no threat in the men around him. "Get up.
Why was I drugged?"

Roth stood,
eyeing the strange blade. "Ardel needed time to gather men to help
you, and he saw that you needed rest."

"Ah, yes, the
plot to overthrow Tyrander." Kieran's eyes narrowed in annoyance at
the trickery around him and practised on him. "How long have I been
asleep?"

"Several hours,
Highness."

"Where's
Talsy?" Kieran demanded.

"With Prince
Tyrander, but she is safe," he hastened to add. "Ardel is with
them."

Kieran spotted
his clothes on a table and strode over to them, putting down the
Starsword to pull on his trousers. A manservant tried to help, but
retreated from Kieran's glare after a short tussle.

"I can dress
myself," he snapped. "Enough time has been wasted. I must find the
girl."

"I'll take you
to her." Roth approached, his eyes on the sword. "May I ask what
manner of blade this is?"

"Don't stare at
it," Kieran warned, "it's magical."

Roth averted
his eyes. "I'm glad you have such a sword, Highness. It will assure
you victory."

Kieran buckled
on his breast plate, not objecting when a manservant ventured to
help him with the fastenings. His scabbard was missing, and Roth
dispatched a man to fetch it while Kieran finished donning his
armour and boots. By the time he was dressed, the man had returned
with his scabbard. He pushed away the servant who straightened and
tidied his clothes and turned to Roth.

"Take me to
her."

Chapter Eight

Ardel burst
into Talsy's room and stumbled to a halt in horror. Tyrander
struggled with her on the floor, giggling as he feinted and stabbed
at her with a dagger. She strived to hold the Prince off, but he
had her pinned. Many nicks and cuts bled on her neck and arms where
the blade had wounded her, and Tyrander appeared to be enjoying
himself immensely. He glanced around, grinning, when Ardel
entered.

"Ah, Ardel,
come to watch? At last I have found a use for the stupid slut. This
will bring the Mujar running."

Ardel paused to
compose himself. "Highness, if you wish to have her tortured, we
have the man for the job in the dungeons."

"Why?" Tyrander
laughed. "I'm enjoying this."

Talsy took
advantage of his distraction to punch him in the face, and he
recoiled with a curse. He slapped her, jerking her head to the
side, and ruefully rubbed his cheek.

"Sire," Ardel
ventured. "You don't know your own strength. You could kill her
inadvertently."

Tyrander
glanced around again, this time in annoyance. "Ardel, go and plague
someone else with your useless advice."

Talsy blinked
away tears of pain and punched the Prince in the solar plexus,
expelling the air from his lungs in a coughing grunt. He turned
back to her with a growl of rage and lifted the dagger high. Ardel
sprang forward and grasped the Prince's arm, stemming his down
stroke with a white-knuckled grip. They grunted and struggled, the
bony advisor proving to be remarkably strong. Tyrander roared with
fury and jumped up, releasing Talsy. Ardel fell to his knees.

"Forgive me,
Highness, but if you kill her, we are all doomed!"

Tyrander
paused, breathing heavily. He glanced at Talsy, who retreated and
curled up, then kicked the cringing advisor, sending him sprawling
with a grunt. "I tire of this amusement. Send her to the torturer.
And if you ever touch me again, Ardel, I'll have your head on a
plate."

Ardel nodded,
clutching his gut. "Yes, Highness."

The advisor
rose to his feet and hurried to the door, where he bellowed into
the corridor for guards to take Talsy to the dungeons. Tyrander
scowled at her as the men marched her out, then turned to stare out
of the window. Sheathing the dagger, he spoke over his shoulder to
Ardel.

"She must be in
danger, or the Mujar won't come. Instruct the torturer to use
methods that threaten her life, but naturally refrain from killing
her. The water tub would be a good one, or strangling. I tire of
waiting for this damned Mujar. I don't want the Hashon Jahar on my
doorstep before he comes for her."

"Yes, Sire."
Ardel turned away, eager to quit the mad Prince's presence, but
Tyrander raised a hand.

"You were right
to stop me. She made me so angry I might indeed have killed her.
But I'm surprised at your temerity, to dare to touch me in such a
manner."

Ardel bowed. "I
apologise, My Prince, I acted in haste."

"Indeed."
Tyrander picked up the cup of wine on the table. "Send the guard
with the instructions, I wish to speak to you."

When Ardel had
dispatched the second guard with Tyrander's orders, he returned to
sit at the table, his gut aching. Tyrander stared out of the
window, sipping his wine, and Ardel waited for several minutes
while the Prince contemplated the view. Draining his cup, Tyrander
approached the table.

The door burst
open, and the Prince swung around in surprise as Kieran strode in.
Tyrander's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Kieran stopped dead,
his reaction almost identical. Roth stepped around him, followed by
several soldiers. Ardel rose and sidled away from Tyrander while
the princes stood frozen.

Kieran
recovered first. "Where's the girl?"

Tyrander
scowled. "Kieran!"

Ardel stared at
the twin brothers who looked so alike, but were so different. The
same height exactly, with the same features, dark eyes and hair,
two halves of the same person. Yet the differences were marked, for
Kieran had a healthy tan while Tyrander's pale hide's sallow tinge
told of excessive drinking and lack of exercise. Years of toil and
combat training had honed Kieran's physique to hard muscle, while
Tyrander's flabby midsection was the result of easy living and too
much good food. Ardel had often wondered why Shantar had kept the
fretful, crying child and given away the calm, sleepy boy. Their
characters were quite obviously different, for all their physical
similarities. Tyrander met Kieran's direct gaze with narrowed eyes,
and a sneering smile tugged at his lips.

"Welcome home,
Brother," he jeered. "Mother will be pleased to see you. A pity
Father didn't last long enough."

"I'm not
interested in them. I want the girl."

"Only the girl?
What of the throne?"

Kieran shook
his head. "Keep it, until the Black Riders get here, at least."

"Ah, yes, and
you think I will let you take the girl?"

Kieran's hand
dropped to the hilt of the Starsword. "You have no choice. I'll
kill you if I must."

"And I see
you've gathered a bevy of traitors to aid you." Tyrander's eyes
swept the men around Kieran, coming to rest on Ardel. "Even you,
Ardel. Still, I have more men than you, Brother."

Kieran drew the
Starsword with a slither of steel and held the blade before him.
Tyrander's eyes narrowed again as he studied the sword, noting the
Mujar mark above the hilt.

"So, the Mujar
sent you, didn't he? Made you a fine sword to aid you, too. But
will you strike an unarmed man?"

Kieran
hesitated, and Ardel stepped closer.

"There's no
need to ask him where she is, Highness. The girl has been sent to
the dungeons."

Tyrander's face
twisted as he reached for the jewelled dagger in his belt. "Damned
traitor!"

Kieran stepped
in front of Ardel and raised the sword. Tyrander halted his lunge
for the luckless advisor and met his twin's hard eyes.

"Step aside,
Brother," Tyrander snarled. "Traitors must die."

"Only you will
die if you strike."

Tyrander
stepped back, sneering, "Father should have drowned you at birth,
instead of giving you away like an unwanted puppy. I'm the chosen
heir."

"Keep your
stupid castle and its pathetic people. I'll take the girl and go."
Kieran glanced around. "With however wants to come with me."