Mirror Sight
Page 223
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Then she launched from the sofa and battered his breastplate. “You betrayed him!” she cried. “Zachary! All of us! Traitor!”
He simply shrugged her off him, his strength undiminished by time or injury.
“Shh,” he said quietly. “There are still guards posted outside, and I’ve much to tell you before the emperor misses me. Will you hear me out?”
She wanted to hurl more accusations at him, lay blame on him for all that had become of Sacoridia and all the losses—the professor, those left behind in Mill City, Luke, now Raven. She also wanted to throw her arms around him and weep. Here he was, someone from her own time, though so disfigured she hardly recognized him. She did neither.
“You had better talk fast,” she told him, not imparting what she might do to him if he didn’t. She wanted him to give her reason to trust him, she wanted to believe there were good reasons for his being the emperor’s Eternal Guardian.
Fastion, still on his knees, simply nodded and began. “During the final battle with the hosts of Blackveil and Second Empire upon us, it was my duty to help Queen Estora and the prince escape into the tombs. Lord Amberhill had already turned on us. When I put her into the care of the tomb Weapons, I returned above so I might aid in the defense of the castle. King Zachary had ridden out onto the field of battle and may have already been slain by then. I don’t know.”
She had already known this outcome for Zachary, but hearing it again on top of everything else caused an intake of breath that sounded like a soft cry.
“I fought at the castle gates,” Fastion continued, “but all I remember of it was fire, fire and burning.” He closed his eyes. “The burning. I should have been dead, but Lord Amberhill rescued me.”
“Why?” Karigan demanded. “If he had turned, you were his enemy.”
“It is something I often question myself, but I believe it was because I had saved him earlier. Something I have spent so many years regretting.” Fastion paused to take some rasping breaths. “He had returned from voyages in the east changed, but remained essentially himself and not threatening. He promised the king he’d help turn the tide of war in favor of the Sacoridians. It was sometime after I had rescued him that he changed yet again.” Fastion’s expression darkened.
“Mornhavon,” Karigan said.
“Yes. Somehow the dark one insinuated himself into Lord Amberhill’s being. The part that was still Lord Amberhill rescued me. The part of him that was Mornhavon healed me, gave me eternal life. I think it amuses Mornhavon to have one of Zachary’s Weapons now guarding him. I also believe that the part that is still Lord Amberhill wishes for me to ensure he does not fall.”
“He wants to be emperor forever.”
“No. I think he wishes he could end his life, but killing his body would only make things worse.”
Karigan nodded in understanding. “Mornhavon would find a new host before the body expired.”
“And that new host would probably be Webster Silk, who is a cruel man. It is his policies that have made this empire what it is. Imagine him and Mornhavon bound together, without the moderating influence of Lord Amberhill, or the third personality.”
So she’d been right. There was a third.
“A sea king of old,” Fastion continued, “with access to destructive forces Mornhavon covets. It is my thought that Mornhavon has never abandoned Lord Amberhill’s body for Silk’s of his own volition because of that power. It brought Sacoridia and the free lands to ruin. It—”
A knocking on the door interrupted him. “Guardian?” one of the soldiers posted outside called. “Is all well?”
“I must go,” Fastion said. “Know that I serve the emperor because I do not wish for worse upon these lands and its people.”
“I need to go home,” Karigan said, “to tell the king, to change things.”
“I know.”
The soldiers knocked again. “Guardian?”
“Silence!” Fastion barked. The knocking stopped. Fastion stood, twitched his head, and the visor and bevor closed off his face once again. The hiss-sigh resumed its regular rhythm. “If anyone can do it, you can. You and the Eletian. You are not here by accident, this I believe. I will help as I can, but we must speak no more at this time.”
When she began to protest, he waved her to silence and became the forbidding presence she had known before. He moved quickly through the rooms, undoing whatever he had done to block the watchers.
He paused a moment before leaving and said, “Very good bout today, but you lost focus in the end. A mistake. Drent would not have approved.”
She touched her tender cheek, and he was out the door. She was still stunned and bereft, but he had kindled a new flame that shone in the dark. She’d found an unexpected ally, and perhaps she would reach home after all.
BARGAINS
Overcome and exhausted, Karigan curled up on the sofa hugging a pillow to her, finally able to give in to her grief for Raven and for everything else that had gone wrong. Now she had an idea of how her fellow Rider, Ty Newland, had felt when his beloved Flicker perished a few years back during a groundmite attack on Lady Penburn’s delegation in the northern wilds.
Yes, she now knew how he felt, but he had carried on. He had turned around after Flicker’s death and mounted another horse, Crane, whose Rider had been slain in the same battle. Ty had turned around and taken another Rider’s horse and ridden to Sacor City to tell the king of the attack.
He simply shrugged her off him, his strength undiminished by time or injury.
“Shh,” he said quietly. “There are still guards posted outside, and I’ve much to tell you before the emperor misses me. Will you hear me out?”
She wanted to hurl more accusations at him, lay blame on him for all that had become of Sacoridia and all the losses—the professor, those left behind in Mill City, Luke, now Raven. She also wanted to throw her arms around him and weep. Here he was, someone from her own time, though so disfigured she hardly recognized him. She did neither.
“You had better talk fast,” she told him, not imparting what she might do to him if he didn’t. She wanted him to give her reason to trust him, she wanted to believe there were good reasons for his being the emperor’s Eternal Guardian.
Fastion, still on his knees, simply nodded and began. “During the final battle with the hosts of Blackveil and Second Empire upon us, it was my duty to help Queen Estora and the prince escape into the tombs. Lord Amberhill had already turned on us. When I put her into the care of the tomb Weapons, I returned above so I might aid in the defense of the castle. King Zachary had ridden out onto the field of battle and may have already been slain by then. I don’t know.”
She had already known this outcome for Zachary, but hearing it again on top of everything else caused an intake of breath that sounded like a soft cry.
“I fought at the castle gates,” Fastion continued, “but all I remember of it was fire, fire and burning.” He closed his eyes. “The burning. I should have been dead, but Lord Amberhill rescued me.”
“Why?” Karigan demanded. “If he had turned, you were his enemy.”
“It is something I often question myself, but I believe it was because I had saved him earlier. Something I have spent so many years regretting.” Fastion paused to take some rasping breaths. “He had returned from voyages in the east changed, but remained essentially himself and not threatening. He promised the king he’d help turn the tide of war in favor of the Sacoridians. It was sometime after I had rescued him that he changed yet again.” Fastion’s expression darkened.
“Mornhavon,” Karigan said.
“Yes. Somehow the dark one insinuated himself into Lord Amberhill’s being. The part that was still Lord Amberhill rescued me. The part of him that was Mornhavon healed me, gave me eternal life. I think it amuses Mornhavon to have one of Zachary’s Weapons now guarding him. I also believe that the part that is still Lord Amberhill wishes for me to ensure he does not fall.”
“He wants to be emperor forever.”
“No. I think he wishes he could end his life, but killing his body would only make things worse.”
Karigan nodded in understanding. “Mornhavon would find a new host before the body expired.”
“And that new host would probably be Webster Silk, who is a cruel man. It is his policies that have made this empire what it is. Imagine him and Mornhavon bound together, without the moderating influence of Lord Amberhill, or the third personality.”
So she’d been right. There was a third.
“A sea king of old,” Fastion continued, “with access to destructive forces Mornhavon covets. It is my thought that Mornhavon has never abandoned Lord Amberhill’s body for Silk’s of his own volition because of that power. It brought Sacoridia and the free lands to ruin. It—”
A knocking on the door interrupted him. “Guardian?” one of the soldiers posted outside called. “Is all well?”
“I must go,” Fastion said. “Know that I serve the emperor because I do not wish for worse upon these lands and its people.”
“I need to go home,” Karigan said, “to tell the king, to change things.”
“I know.”
The soldiers knocked again. “Guardian?”
“Silence!” Fastion barked. The knocking stopped. Fastion stood, twitched his head, and the visor and bevor closed off his face once again. The hiss-sigh resumed its regular rhythm. “If anyone can do it, you can. You and the Eletian. You are not here by accident, this I believe. I will help as I can, but we must speak no more at this time.”
When she began to protest, he waved her to silence and became the forbidding presence she had known before. He moved quickly through the rooms, undoing whatever he had done to block the watchers.
He paused a moment before leaving and said, “Very good bout today, but you lost focus in the end. A mistake. Drent would not have approved.”
She touched her tender cheek, and he was out the door. She was still stunned and bereft, but he had kindled a new flame that shone in the dark. She’d found an unexpected ally, and perhaps she would reach home after all.
BARGAINS
Overcome and exhausted, Karigan curled up on the sofa hugging a pillow to her, finally able to give in to her grief for Raven and for everything else that had gone wrong. Now she had an idea of how her fellow Rider, Ty Newland, had felt when his beloved Flicker perished a few years back during a groundmite attack on Lady Penburn’s delegation in the northern wilds.
Yes, she now knew how he felt, but he had carried on. He had turned around after Flicker’s death and mounted another horse, Crane, whose Rider had been slain in the same battle. Ty had turned around and taken another Rider’s horse and ridden to Sacor City to tell the king of the attack.