Son of Ereubus (29 page)

They were barely at the edges of the woods near Eidolon when he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. They’d lost her tracks somewhere around Fools Marsh but had picked them up shortly after. He slowed his horse and turned around. Trotting back to where he’d seen it, he then dismounted and began to scour the ground. As soon as he saw it, he fell to his knees. Several of the men around him stopped.

Roahn was the first to speak. “What?”

Michael reached for a pile of brown cloth on the ground, covered in a dark red stain. It was torn in several places. His hand shook as he brought it closer to him. He put the cloak close to his face and breathed in. It was hers. He held out the fabric, stretching it to the light to see where she’d been hit.

“It’s Ariana’s,” Jareth said, coming to a stop. He dismounted and stood next to Michael. “If she’s been injured, then we’re wasting time.” He leaned into Michael, whispering. “Michael, this isn’t proof of death. If she were killed, she would’ve been left here. Don’t let this cloud your reason.”

“Then let us be quick.” Michael burst into the air with a quick movement of his wings and was in the saddle of his horse, digging in his heels as they tore off back toward Eidolon.

They’d already discussed positions prior to leaving Adoria. Michael’s sole objective, aided immediately by Roahn and two other Braeden, was to find Ariana. Jareth, Caedmon and Kendall led two separate groups of Adorians who were to surround him, clearing the way. Duncan led yet another group of Braeden whose sole purpose was to check all the cells they knew of, entering the tunnels beneath Eidolon from a secret door that Duncan had used in the past. They were all counting on their enemy’s lack of preparation. By the time the other Ereubinians were alerted, they’d be well within the city walls.

Duncan and his thirty Braeden headed for the tunnels as Michael gave the order to attack. The Adorian knights took to the skies, leaving their horses in the shelter of the Netherwoods, and crossed the barren field on silent wings. They flew over the high walls of Eidolon with a select group of Adorians assigned to open the southern gate.

Passing through into the human portion of the city, they were met with no opposition as they took to the ground to begin the search for Ariana. They raced through thick crowds of aimless faces. It wasn’t until they were past the center wall that they had any use for their drawn swords.

Ereubinian soldiers flooded from the castle. Most were unarmed and scrambled to find weapons. The element of surprise was working well in their favor. Michael’s greatest fear though, was not the flesh and blood of Ereubinian lineage, but the Moriors. They would sense Adorian presence before long. The sting of an arrow grazing Michael’s forearm caught his attention. He whipped around to see an Ereubinian crossbow aimed at him. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and readied his bow. The reason Adorians had never even considered crossbows were because they were slow and clumsy. Michael had deftly fired two shots, mortally wounding the soldier, before he’d even loaded his second bolt.

Drake and Meridian, the other two Braeden who were with Michael, were pulled away separately by fending off groups of soldiers, leaving only Roahn and Michael together by the time they’d crossed the dividing wall.

Riding as close as they could to one another, Michael looked to Roahn for instruction. The Braeden obviously knew far more about the layout. Roahn pointed toward the castle and yelled something Michael couldn’t hear over the sounds of battle. He nodded and followed him.

As soon as they reached the castle steps, Michael pulled his sword from its sheath and dismounted. He spotted Garren.

Garren had blood on his pants and Michael knew whose blood it had to be. Having wounded his sister, Garren must have prepared for this. Rage overcame any rational thoughts and Michael flew at him, sword bared. Garren barely had time to react, raising his own sword in defense.

The loud roar of battle could be heard from all sides, but the fierceness and speed with which Michael wielded his sword was unmatched. Garren wasn’t putting up a fight, or so it seemed, but merely deflecting the blows. Michael caught him several times in the arms and torso.

Roahn had his hands full staving off those who tried to come to Garren’s aid at the base of the steps.

Garren shook his fist in the air. “Michael! Listen to me.”

Michael didn’t care to hear a word from his mouth. He swung harder, his blade glancing off of Garren’s, screaming metal against metal.

“Michael, she is …”

Michael didn’t let him finish. He thrust his sword again at him, their blades crossing several times before Garren turned and pinned Michael against a large stone wall.

Using his hands and body weight, Michael knocked Garren to the ground, where he slid to a stop against the opposite wall.

Michael swung down on him hard, but Garren rolled from beneath its path, leaving the sword to clatter loudly against the ground.

Garren held his free hand up at Michael, the other still griping his sword. Both were out of breath. Michael paused for only a moment to see that he’d lost sight of Roahn, before coming at Garren again full force.

Suddenly, someone who’d come up unnoticed behind Michael caught Garren’s attention. Michael turned around just in time to see Garren duck from Michael’s sword and knock the Ereubinian unconscious with the handle of his blade.

“How kind of you, making sure that if I die on this day that it’s by your hands alone. Haven’t you taken enough from me?” Hot tears stung Michael’s eyes, and he angrily wiped them away. He was out of breath, more from his fury than anything else. He’d begun to fight poorly in his rage and he knew it. Garren was just toying with him.

“Michael, I know that you’re here for your sister.”

“And what is it about Ariana that so cools your blood? What has she done that warrants this? What triumph does her death bring Ciara?” Simply speaking of Ariana quickened Michael’s pulse and he lost it. Blind delirium flooded his senses and he could no longer hear Garren’s words. It was either Garren’s death or his own that would finish it. He raised his sword again.

“Taoth islo shule. Ou toole nertho!”

Michael froze. He’d lost his mind. He stared at Garren, whose lips he saw moving, but it was Adorian speech that he heard.

Garren turned his sword in his hands to point the tip at his own chest and went down on one knee, offering the handle of the blade to Michael. He lowered his head.

“What did you say?” Michael approached him, still keeping his own sword aimed at Garren. He couldn’t tell what Garren intended with this move.

“She is alive, please, we have no time for this.”

Michael, from a safe enough distance, took the tip of his sword and tipped Garren’s face up. “You apparently have no need for such weapons; I’ve seen your handiwork on the face of one of my bravest Adorians.”

Garren closed his eyes. Michael saw frustration and fear. He wasn’t sure which confused him more. The amount of blood on his clothes told him the likelihood of this being a lie was better than even, but there was no denying Garren’s words were Adorian.

“I didn’t ride out after you that night,” Garren continued. “I knew that Micah had not returned alone. I could’ve come after you with an entire army, but I chose not to. Have I ever shown mercy before now? Please, Michael, I know you have no reason to believe me. What I ask is that you have faith in my words for her sake. I’ll gladly give you my life after she is taken from here. But let me take you to her.”

“Get up,” Michael removed his blade from Garren’s neck. “Take your sword.” He watched Garren slide it back into its sheath.

“She’s fading quickly. One of my men reached her before I could and I fear her wounds may be mortal.” Garren reached into a side pouch and pulled out a set of keys, then motioned for Michael to follow him.

Garren fumbled with the keys as they came to the cell. Michael could barely make out her figure, curled up into a ball in a far corner. The slightest bit of light fell across her from the tiny window. He rushed in as Garren cracked open the door.

“I stayed with her through the night, she’s worsened since then. I was preparing to take her to your borders.”

Michael didn’t acknowledge Garren’s words. He leaned down over Ariana, and pressed his hand to her neck. Garren was right; she was alive. She moved at his touch, taking in small shallow breaths. Her skin was cold to the touch. She didn’t have much time left. He lifted the cloth tied around her shoulder, seeing that a sword had pierced through to the other side; it seemed to be the most serious injury. He paid little attention to the smaller cuts and tears to her middle and legs, but paused once he saw the deep gashes to her ankles. It took him a second to start breathing again.

He pulled her into his arms and turned to the cell door to see another soldier standing behind Garren.

Just as Michael had convinced himself that it had been a trap all along, Garren suddenly noticed the soldier as well and turned to face him.

“The eastern gate will be the easiest to get to. The Moriors ... will be diverted to the western side.”

Michael was stunned. Garren must have been as well, for still he remained speechless.

“My Lord, there’s no deception in my offer, but you’ll have to accept my loyalty alone as an explanation for now. I cannot speak for any other than myself, but my allegiance is to you.”

Garren took a visibly deep breath. “Malachai, I can’t thank you enough, but are you willing to sacrifice your life for this? I can’t ask you to do so, unless you assure me that you’re aware of the consequences of your actions.”

The soldier nodded. “Your friend is waning. Go.” Malachai turned from them and headed up the staircase at the far end of the hall near the guard’s chambers.

Nothing had played itself out like Michael had expected. He hadn’t believed the Ereubinians to have the capacity for loyalty, but he was steadily finding himself wrong about a lot of things. Garren led him through the castle again, out into the open, where he pulled his sword and held it readied in his hands.

Ariana looked much worse in the light. Michael didn’t want to admit his gratitude, but he couldn’t defend them with Ariana in his arms.

Several men rushed them and Garren didn’t hesitate. He fended their advances, using as few fatal blows as possible. Michael looked out across the open courtyard, to the battle at hand. He could see the bodies of several of his men and many still in the thick of it.

It wasn’t long before Roahn found them again and had clearly taken note of which side Garren was fighting on.

“You won’t be able to take her by horseback.” Garren yelled. “You’ll never make it in time. Take my Dragee, it’s the only way.”

Roahn gave Michael a questioning look, but both of them knew that what Garren said was true. Michael acknowledged Garren with a nod and they both followed him to the stables.

It started with one soldier. Then two. One by one those around them, upon seeing Garren defending Michael, began to lay down their swords. The sounds of clashing weapons dissipated as the men ceased blows and an awkward tension ensued as the Ereubinians looked toward Garren in shock. They’d obviously seen his power and were either unwilling to test it or were too shocked to challenge it. Either way, they seemed uncertain whose side to fight on. The sudden lack of opposition stunned the Adorians as well.

Garren led his Dragee from the stall. He’d already saddled the beast, which told Michael that Garren had told the truth about having prepared to take her to Adoria. He handed Michael the reins. After gesturing toward another Dragee for Roahn, Garren then reached out for Ariana. “I’ll return her to you once you are settled.” Garren pulled her from his arms and held her to his chest as Michael mounted the Dragee. Ariana coughed again, struggling to take in a breath.

Michael leaned down, taking her from Garren, shouldering her against his left arm and holding the reins in his right. Once he was upright in the saddle, he looked down at Garren. The Ereubinian’s eyes were red, his face distraught.

Roahn finally spoke. “And what of you?”

Garren glanced around them, a lost look falling across his features. “I’ll meet what end I have secured for myself. It’s not without cause. My only consolation is that I will follow in my father’s footsteps. His last breath was taken by Morior hands as well.”

Michael didn’t know what to think. He was still hesitant to trust him, but something else pulled at Michael’s conscience. Garren had spoken Adorian, pure and simple. A voice whispered in the back of his mind that he should do something, that he couldn’t just leave Garren behind. “Saddle one of the other beasts — you’ll ride back with me.”

Garren looked at them blankly.

“You have nothing to lose. The death that awaits you in my realm will be a much kinder end.”

Garren said nothing. He turned and quickly saddled another beast. Michael watched him, never so unsure of a single decision. He wondered what his father would have done and was in the process of answering his own musing when he realized that the voice he’d heard in his mind had been his father’s — something Gabriel had said to Michael about Garren on the battlefield many years before — something that hadn’t held an ounce of meaning or made a bit of sense until now.

“You want to know why I didn’t take his life. You’ll understand the truth of the matter someday. Perhaps when you’re all he has left in the world. Just remember this; our tongue is a living tongue, spoken only by those whose blood is pure. Never forget this and show mercy accordingly.”

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arren raced ahead of Michael and the wingless Adorian through the city but was still close enough to overhear a conversation between Michael and Jareth, who was questioning Garren’s ability to still draw breath.