29. Benjin #2
“So did I. But that was just the lingering effects of the curse. He betrayed me back then when he tried to abandon me along with the rest of his life here. And when I confronted him about it, he had the audacity to blame me. As though it’s not his family that brought Ilthabard to the brink of ruin! ”
“Indeed.” The cautious optimism in the Grand Magus’ voice tore at Benjin. It was almost enough to make him feel guilty for his deception. One glance at Haldric detained on the stone floor, however, was enough to firm his resolve. “So, you finally begin to recognize the truth.”
Benjin nodded, the movement rattling his chains. “You were right all along, master. I didn’t want to believe it, but even the best nobles will never understand what it’s like for the rest of us. It’s far past time for a change.”
Benjin held his breath, certain the Grand Magus would see right through his obvious ruse. Benjin’s abrupt turnabout was far too swift to be believable. Yet, Dexil seemed to eat the lie up, his face breaking into a broad grin.
“Precisely! I knew that, in time, you’d understand. You and I are much alike, Benjin. And once we have dealt with this unpleasantness and secured a foothold in the palace, word of our victory will spread. Emboldened, people all across Ilthabard will rise up and take back what is rightfully theirs!”
His gut squirming, Benjin gave the Grand Magus exactly what he craved. Validation. “Of course they will! And when the smoke clears and the dust settles, you’ll be there to help pick up the pieces…and I’ll be right here by your side.”
Dexil beamed. “I knew I made the right decision when I chose you as my apprentice. Together, we shall usher in a brighter future for our people.” He glanced at Haldric, his expression wavering a moment before firming. “There’s only one thing left to do to seal our victory.”
Haldric remained silent, pretending to be subdued.
Now’s the moment.
Taking a deep breath, Benjin glared at Haldric. “Let me be the one to do it, master. Let me end Ilthabard’s last king. Please.”
The Grand Magus hesitated, his face torn. He glanced again between Benjin and Haldric before seeming to reach a decision, a flicker of relief crossing his expression. “Very well. I…I have already ushered one dear friend from Allaria tonight. I don’t wish to be responsible for another.”
Haldric went rigid, and Benjin’s jaw tightened at Dexil’s near confession to murdering King Roland. He shoved his outrage down, burying it beneath the veneer of an obedient apprentice.
The Grand Magus gestured one of the rebels over, handing him a glowing green vial and a set of keys. “Unshackle the prisoner and give him this.” He gestured to the other two rebels. “You two, hold the king still.”
The rebels hastened to obey. Benjin groaned with relief as the shackles left his wrists and ankles. He massaged his arms and legs, the chaffed skin red and cracked despite the Grand Magus’ earlier ministrations.
Accepting the vial from the rebel soldier, Benjin held it up. Its green glow had dimmed now that it had passed within the antimagic wards. “What is this?”
“Poison.” Dexil’s voice was heavy as he regarded Haldric with a sad smile. “It’s the final mercy I have to offer. I brewed it myself. Haldric’s death will be swift and painless, even with the toxin’s magic dampened.”
Swallowing, Benjin nodded and approached Haldric, pausing right in front of him. Haldric looked up, briefly regarding Benjin before turning to glare at the Grand Magus silhouetted in the doorway.
“I trusted you, Dexil. So did my father. And in exchange, you betrayed us. Betrayed Ilthabard. I can’t believe I ever considered you my friend.”
Dexil bowed his head. “I am truly sorry it had to end this way, my boy. I’d hoped to spare you this fate, but the Goddess had other plans. At least, you can take comfort in knowing you will see your father again soon.”
Haldric’s visage twisted with rage. There was no need for acting now as he roared, fighting against the rebels holding him down. They barely managed to restrain him long enough for the third to step in and slam a fist against the side of his head. Haldric slumped, dazed.
Praying that Haldric remained clear-headed enough to remember the plan, Benjin bent over and cupped him under the chin, forcing his head back. Their gazes locked, Haldric’s green eyes intent.
Staring into the king’s face, Benjin said softly, “This is for Ilthabard.”
He unstopped the vial, raised it up…and hurled it into the nearest rebel’s face. The vial shattered in a spray of glass and liquid. The rebel cried out, clawing at his eyes and mouth as he collapsed in a writhing heap.
Before the man even hit the ground, Haldric struck at the other two rebels.
Quick as a viper, he wrenched an arm free from one of their grips and used it to knock aside the swords at his throat with far more strength and precision than he’d shown before.
His previous ineffectual attempts to escape had served their purpose, lulling his captors into a false sense of security.
“Stop them!” the Grand Magus screamed from the hall.
Leaving Haldric to deal with the remaining guards, Benjin bolted for the door.
Dexil’s eyes widened. He scrambled for the handle, attempting to slam the door shut. Benjin hurled himself through before he could, tumbling roughly over the stone floor. He came to rest near Janelle’s unconscious body and stumbled to his feet, raising one of her axes in a shaky grip.
The Grand Magus’ eyes flashed with hurt as he regarded Benjin. “I take it your change of heart was nothing but a ruse. Clever…if misguided. Don’t you see how the nobility has brought this country to the brink of ruin?”
“The only one leading Ilthabard to ruin is you.” Benjin hurled Janelle’s ax at Dexil. It tumbled through the air, a mere hand’s width from the Grand Magus’ chest before it ricocheted off a protective barrier of force.
The Grand Magus lowered a hand crackling with runeflame from his pendant and sighed. “Come now, my boy. I may prefer the subtleties of potions and wards, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own in a fight. Did you honestly think that would work?”
“No. But this might!”
Benjin brought his other hand up and released the spell he’d been preparing while the Grand Magus was distracted. The wave of force slammed into Dexil’s Protection spell. Dexil let out a surprised shout as he slid a step backward.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Benjin,” he growled. “But I will if you leave me no other choice. Stop this foolishness at once!”
Setting his shoulders, Benjin raised hands crackling with runeflame and shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t take orders from a traitor.”
Dexil clenched his jaw and raised his hand to ready a spell. Nothing happened. Blinking in confusion, he glanced down. His eyes widened when he realized his back foot had crossed over the threshold into Benjin’s cell…and its antimagic wards.
Before the Grand Magus could move, Haldric was there, yanking him off balance. “This is for my father!” he shouted, slamming a fist into Dexil’s face.
Dexil staggered, crying out, and Haldric shoved him back to collide with a pair of bloodied rebels in hot pursuit. Then, he dove for the door, tumbling past the threshold. With another weave of runeflame, Benjin yanked the door shut behind Haldric right as the rebels slammed into the other side.
Stepping back, Haldric raised his hand and channeled runeflame to fuse the lock mechanism together. Muffled thumps and shouts resounded from the other side.
“That should hold them well enough for now,” Haldric said.
He hurried to his aunt’s side and knelt beside her, puffing out a relieved breath.
“Looks like Dexil used some sort of sleeping Compulsion on her. We’re lucky he didn’t kill her outright.
Perhaps he intended to once he’d dealt with me.
As it is, she’ll be out like a light for another couple hours without magic to wake her. ”
Benjin stared at the sealed cell door, unable to parse his flurry of emotions. “For all his faults, Dexil really didn’t want to harm anyone if he could avoid it. He hesitated to hurt you right up until the last.”
Haldric grimaced. “Perhaps not. But that doesn’t excuse his actions. What he did to my father…and what he tried to do to me.”
“No. I suppose it doesn’t.” Benjin glanced down the empty corridor. “We’re alone here for now, but what about the rest of the palace? Do you think there’s a chance the guards will win?”
Haldric frowned, appearing thoughtful. “When my aunt and I came here, the palace was mostly deserted. We saw no sign of Marshal Fendrel nor the royal guards.” His gaze lingered on his aunt, his eyes widening in sudden understanding.
“As you said, Dexil sought to minimize casualties. Perhaps he used similar sorcery on them—something to preemptively remove them from the fight.”
Benjin bit his lip and nodded. That made sense. “In that case, we should grab your aunt and flee. Perhaps there are other supporters you can raise in Revesole—men loyal to the Crown you can use to retake the palace.”
Haldric hesitated before setting his jaw. Rising from beside his aunt, he squared his shoulders, every bit of him the visage of a defiant ruler.
“My father is dead. That means I’m the king, and as king, I refuse to abandon my people.
Whether I wanted it or not, this is my castle now, and I intend to defend it.
” Doubt crept over his expression as he glanced at Benjin.
“But that doesn’t mean you have any obligation to follow me. You’re free to—”
Benjin stepped forward, shutting him up with a firm kiss. “Don’t be an idiot,” he said, pulling back and clasping Haldric’s shoulder. “Of course I’ll stay and help. With two mages working in tandem and their leader imprisoned, those rebels won’t know what hit them.”
Haldric fixed him with a grateful smile, then moved to grab his sword where it lay in the hall. “Right, then. Let’s go reclaim my palace.”