Chapter 27 #3
“You want to keep your people in a previous time,” Hallie said, the words hard and sore in her throat.
“And you want to keep the whole world there with you.” The scope and scale of it had her breath catching in her throat.
“But you didn’t need to do any of this. You could have gone back to your lands, lived as you wished.
You didn’t need to involve anyone else, or try to destroy the whole Conclave.
” Even as she spoke, Hallie wondered if that was really true.
The technology existed and, however much Hoel oppressed his people, they would know that there were other places where things were different.
And like the humans who had moved to Paradise seeking a better life, she could imagine that at least some of Hoel’s people would leave, escape his control.
He would not like that at all. So he wanted the whole world to operate to his will instead.
She supposed it must seem logical in his twisted mind. She found it appalling and abhorrent.
“Do not question me, woman,” Hoel said, taking a half-step forward. “You speak of things you cannot possibly understand.”
“Well, you have failed,” Hallie said, holding her ground and meeting his furious gaze. “We’ve discovered your plot. The bombs that were set have gone off. Some people have died, which is awful. The Conclave, though, is still standing.”
A slight, cruel smile formed on Hoel’s mouth and Hallie’s mouth went dry, heart thumping. The twisting knot in her stomach tightened further. She’d been right. The explosion and the molten gold had not been everything. Not nearly. There was more to come.
“No. You’re not done yet, are you?” she asked, her voice a harsh whisper. “What else do you have planned?”
An intervention came from an unlikely source.
“Oh, yes, please, do tell us. What else do you have planned?” Tristram asked, apparently thoroughly enjoying himself.
“I always knew you were half-mad, Hoel, but this is quite extraordinarily insane. Bombs in the Conclave? Destroying the whole institution? Really, I think the ice has frosted your brain.”
The sword was in Hoel’s hand before Hallie saw him move to draw it.
With far quicker reflexes than the younger man, Girard grabbed hold of Tristram, dragging him out of the way.
Hallie shoulder-charged Hoel. It was like hitting a wall.
The furious man didn’t even twitch. He glanced down at her and brought his sword around.
Hallie let out an undignified squeal and dropped to the floor, under the sweep of the glinting edge of the blade, rolling away and drawing her gun as she scrambled back to her feet, seeing that Girard had done the same.
They were both aiming at Hoel who stood, suddenly isolated, sword raised.
Hoel didn’t look intimidated or defeated. He looked triumphant. A smile split his face, eyes bright. “And now you will learn who holds the power here.” He turned the wrist of his sword arm, using his other hand to press a particular point on his sleeve. There was a soft click.
Hallie took several scrambling steps backwards, but there was no explosion.
Not this time. Instead, the gleam in Hoel’s eyes deepened.
Her eyes paused on the length of the sword.
A primitive weapon which he used with consummate ease.
Ideal for personal combat. So, no bombs.
Not right then. Explosions were not his style.
“What have you done?” she asked.
“You will see soon enough,” Hoel said.
A ripple of unease ran around the room, echoed in Hallie’s chest.
He was entirely too confident for Hallie’s liking. Underestimated by the other members of the Conclave, and it seemed she’d underestimated him equally badly. He had other layers to his plan. More things in motion that she could not guess at.
“Everyone clear a space,” Peredur ordered. “Get back, away from him.”
Hoel smiled. It was not a pleasant smile, matching the cold hatred in his pale blue eyes.
As the Conclave members and aides began shuffling out of the way, clearing a wider space around Hoel, Hallie heard the faint sounds of running feet.
She kept her gun pointed at the floor, looking around.
She wasn’t the only one who’d heard the noise.
An uneasy ripple moved through the room.
The Conclave members and their aides were all terrified, even those who had been close to Hoel.
Hallie guessed that Hoel hadn’t filled them in on the extent of his plans for violence.
The emergency exit door, the one that Accalon had been unable to open, flew off its hinges with an impressive bang, provoking a few cries of alarm among the Conclave members and aides.
Rather than the further explosion that Hallie was braced for, the doorway filled with black-clad, armed figures that filed into the Conclave chamber.
They were dressed the same way as the attackers that Hallie and Girard had encountered twice now, all of them carrying automatic weapons and moving with enough coordination to demonstrate that they’d had some training at least.
Hallie’s mouth went dry again, her pulse picking up and her palms warming around the butt of her gun.
She and Girard had encountered two groups of five attackers before, and all but one of them were out of action, either dead or imprisoned.
But there were easily twenty masked and armed people in the Conclave chamber just now.
Which meant that Hoel had somehow managed to gather at least thirty people and provide them with training and weapons.
That wasn’t just personal security, in Hallie’s view, that was an army.
An army of trained humans, who would be expendable in Hoel’s eyes.
He would have no hesitation in using up humans in his quest for power.
Even as she tried to make an accurate count of the newcomers, and not to draw attention to herself by moving, another two people entered the room.
Although they were dressed in black as well, they were hochlen, their heads left bare.
They could have been Hoel’s brothers. They had the same tall, muscular build, pale blond hair and even across the room Hallie could see that they had pale eyes.
“Hoel, what is the meaning of this?” Nanters spluttered. “Armed thugs in the chamber? This is not what we discussed.”
“It is what I planned,” Hoel said, still with that sharp, dangerous smile.
“Now, see here,” Nanters began, taking a half-step forward.
“No,” Hoel said. The word was soft, but it stopped the other Conclave member in his tracks.
“I’ve listened to you quite enough. All of you,” he added, with a sweeping look around the room.
“All the talking, all the posturing, all the petty politics.” The words snapped in the air, hanging for a long moment, Hoel’s contempt now turned on his fellow Conclave members.
He cast another look around, blue eyes full of cold hatred.
“I have listened. For far too long. I’m done listening. And now I have made my decision.”
“And we are all supposed to just go along with what you want?” Hallie asked, her voice tight and hard. “This isn’t your land.”
“Not yet, no,” Hoel agreed and turned away from her.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hallie could see Nanters and the two Conclave members beside him - Cladas and another long-established member, Echoid Bondar - growing pale, exchanging frightened looks.
“Hoel, please, be reasonable,” Echoid said. Hallie had to give him credit for a steady voice. “We’ve all heard your views. We share many of them. We had agreed a way forward. I am sure we can work this out.”
“I’m done listening,” Hoel repeated. He still had his sword in his hand and with one fluid move he swung it, in an almost casual arc, slicing across Echoid Bondar’s throat.
Blood spurted out and Echoid’s body fell, twitching, to the ground as Cladas and Nanters backed away, crying out in alarm and horror.
Hallie wanted to be sick. Of all the deaths she’d seen today, the swift, brutal and callous way that Hoel had killed Echoid made her feel cold and hot and profoundly ill.
The cries were echoed around the chamber. At least two people screamed.
“Hoel Buchanan, you have committed murder in front of witnesses,” Peredur said, his voice firm and full of authority. “Drop your sword and surrender immediately.”
Hoel gave the director one brief look, then turned his eyes to the rows of armed men. They all straightened a little as his attention came to them.
“Your orders, sir?” one of the blond hochlen asked.
“Kill them all,” Hoel said, in a calm, almost casual tone, moving further along the great sweep of the table so he was closer to the windows. Getting out of the way of the bullets, Hallie realised.
The masked, armed men didn’t hesitate, just all raised their weapons to their shoulders and started firing.