The Halfblood King: Book 1 of the Chronicles of Aertu (32 page)

“No, if Ehacatl is well, I will go to the courtyard to see these foreigners for myself.  They should be cornered or captured by now and I wish to know where they came from and how they penetrated our defenses.”

“As you wish, Sire,”
Matlan replied and to the King’s escort he directed,
“To the southwest exit!  We will round the tower to the east courtyard.” 
He preceded the King, while the escort took the flanks and rear guard and they marched straightaway to the large double doorway.  Guards stationed at the exit opened the ironclad doors before them and they stepped out into the bright sunlight and made a left flank to take them around to the east courtyard.  They would march out in an orderly and stately fashion to confront these interlopers.  The last sight for Matlal and his King was the wall of purple energy that swept them up and crushed them against the wall of the tower like insects. 

Ehacatl felt the tower shake to its foundation as the last of the wounded left the upper chamber. 
“Hurry, get the men to safety!”
he shouted, as plaster rained from the ceiling.  The Prince had no idea what was happening, but he needed to get he and his men to safety before the tower came down around them.

***

Broken bodies littered the courtyard of the palace.  The tower stood still, though pieces of stonework and roof tiles rained from the upper levels.  Barathol was just trying to clear the spots from his vision when he turned to see Aleron lying on the ground, the great sword beside him now dark where it once shone with bright blue energy.  Eilowyn stooped to crouch beside him and shake him by the shoulders, but there was no reaction.  Barathol scanned the scene and saw a gap where the outer wall collapsed from the blast.  He grabbed Aleron under the armpits, drew him upright and then slung him over his shoulder.  With his left arm around Aleron’s leg and the same hand grabbing the man’s wrist, Barathol retrieved his glaive and said, “Eilowyn, grab that sword and stay on my left.  Gel, you take point.  We’re going for that gap in the wall.”  He straightened under his load and they sprinted to the wall.  Eilowyn had to hike up her skirts to keep up.  “Slow it down Gel; neither of us can move as fast as you right now.” 

Geldun slowed the pace slightly and they reached the wall together.  “It’s all clear, so far,” he stated, after poking his head past the gap.  “We need to find a way to go underground and fast.”  He led the way across the open ground surrounding the palace walls and into a side alley.  They saw a few individuals either unconscious or holding their heads.  Apparently, the shock wave extended past the outer walls and into the city.  Otherwise, they saw all the windows shuttered and the doors closed.  They ran down the alley until he noticed what looked to be an open cellar door.  “In here,” he said as he ducked inside.  The stairs led down to darkness and unknown, but it was their only option before the inevitable pursuit.  He felt his way carefully, with Eilowyn close behind and Barathol lumbering behind her, breathing heavily under his burden.  At the bottom of the stairwell, he found scant light from vent holes at the top of the wall.  They were in what looked to be a storeroom.  Whispering, “Set him down here and I’ll secure the door,” he sprinted back up the stairs and drew closed the door, locking the deadbolt before he went back down.  “Where’s Barry?” he whispered, upon his return.

“He went to look around,” Eilowyn replied, softly, “to see if there’s another way out of here.”

“I found another stairway up, but it’s bolted from the other side,” Barathol announced, in as close to a whisper as he could manage.  “I thought I could hear voices on the other side too.”

“We need to hole up here for the time being,” Eilowyn stated.  “Help me get him somewhere comfortable.”  The men went to work discretely moving crates and barrels around to open up a space in the back corner of the storeroom, while Eilowyn stood watch over Aleron.  They returned to carry their friend to the area they cleared and laid him down on a pad built from empty grain sacks, with a sack of rice to cushion his head.  Eilowyn followed behind with the sword, now dim in the presence of its owner, where it once shone with bright blue radiance.  She thought she could see a faint glow, deep in the sapphires studding the pommel, but that was most likely the light from the vents.

Later, they found some dried meat and fruit, as well as many jugs of wine and Eilowyn stated, “This will do for now, but we need to find some water soon.”

“Yeah, this stuff will dry us out like these figs, if we don’t watch it,” Barathol agreed.  “The meat’s salted too, so we should stick to the fruit and just enough wine to get it down.”

“Sounds like we’re under an inn or tavern,” Geldun observed.  The sounds of laughter and music filtered down through the floorboards.

“I can pick out a few phrases,” Eilowyn declared.  “It seems like they are all talking about the disaster at the palace, but they’re all laughing about it.  Must not be a soldier’s tavern.” 

“Could go either way,” Geldun declared.  “Kolixtlani soldiers are mostly all conscripts anyway.  Only the highborn officers have any authority.”

“Uh oh, I think I heard something about the King.  I think someone said he’s dead.”  The raucous noise from above died down to a murmur.  She noticed Aleron stirring and mumbling something in his sleep.  “I think he’s coming to.”  She knelt down beside him and brushed the hair from his face.  “Aleron, wake up.  It’s Ellie.  We’re all safe, for now.  Please wake up.”  Aleron mumbled something unintelligible and rolled to one side, settling himself more comfortably.

They waited several more hours.  The level of noise increased after the subdued level that followed the news of the Kings demise. Aleron bolted upright.  “Wha…,” escaped his lips before Eilowyn had the chance to silence him.

“Shhh…You need to be quiet, my love.  We are hiding.”

“Where…Oh my head!  What happened?”

“We’re holed up under a tavern of some sort,” Barathol replied, “in Kolixtla.”

“You did something that damn near knocked the palace down,” Geldun added, “and then you passed out and the sword went dim.” 

At that announcement, Aleron’s eyes went wide.  “The sword, where is it?”

“Right here, by your right hand.”

Aleron grabbed the hilt and said, “I don’t feel anything, anything at all.”  He felt out further, beyond Andhanimwhid and exclaimed, “Nothing!”

“Quiet, or you’ll get us all killed,” Geldun whispered emphatically.  “What are you babbling about?”

“I can’t feel any magic at all, none at all.”

“That’s not good,” Barathol commented, “not good at all.”  Geldun and Eilowyn looked at him and then turned their gaze to Aleron, as did Barathol.  Aleron looked at each in turn, his eyes finally settling on Eilowyn, put his head in his hands and began to weep.

So ends The Halfblood King, the first volume of

The Chronicles of Aertu.

Appendix A

Sudean Agricultural Calendar

Utilized for Daily Accounting in the Kingdom of Sudea