Chapter 59
Using the vine, Ian climbed over the railing of the upper balcony.
Ulli stood by the door that led into the castle itself, his hand on the handle. “It is unlocked,” he whispered.
Ian stepped aside to make room on the balcony for Onric, who had followed him up the vine.
“Once inside,” Ian said, “I will seek out Gareth. Onric, you know the defenses of this castle better than anyone. Will you find a way to open one of the outer doors so we can let others through? Ulli, go with him. Gareth has not even shown his best soldiers yet. We can expect a brutal fight once we find him, and we will need every person we can get.”
Onric nodded.
“I should remain with you,” Ulli said.
Ian narrowed his eyes. Ulli had conveniently dropped Ian’s title now that he was choosing to disagree with him. Ian much preferred to be seen as an equal, though, especially by someone he had grown to respect. “Because Robin said to?” he asked.
“She did not have to,” Ulli replied.
Ian accepted this, though he still wanted to know if Robin had specifically asked Ulli to protect him or if Ulli was doing it of his own accord. Regardless, Ian appreciated the help, pleased to accept it from either of them.
Ulli reached back out to grasp the door handle, looking to Ian before he opened it.
Nodding, Ian looked from Ulli to Onric. His mouth curved into a dire smile despite the gravity of the situation. “Let us raid, then.”
Inside the large hall, a multi-tiered balcony ran around the four walls of the room.
It made for an excellent vantage point of the central dais below during large social or political functions.
Ian had often spent those functions jealous of his younger brothers, who escaped up to balconies while he often felt duty bound to remain below.
The balcony around them was empty, but Ian could see movement below. He stepped slowly forward, looking over the rail to see Gareth on the central dais. He hovered over the unmoving body of King Frederich.
Ian’s stomach dropped. Perhaps they were already too late. Was his father already dead? There was no sign of his mother.
Ian looked over to Onric. His brother’s face was white despite the constant exertion of the last hour.
“Backup plan,” Ian whispered. “Onric, go find Mother and Ashlin. Ulli, get that door open. Any door.”
Onric nodded.
Ulli did not. “I cannot leave you—”
“I am just going to stall him until you can get the others in here. He is less likely to engage if it is just one of us,” Ian said, cutting him off. “Opening a door is the best way to ensure my safety.”
“Tell that to Robin if you end up dead,” Ulli said.
“I will.” Ian moved forward, quickly and silently making his way toward the open staircase leading down to the main floor.
Below him, several soldiers in Chendas purple stood around the dais, guarding Gareth and watching every entrance to the room—every entrance on the main floor, that was.
Onric and Ulli remained on the balcony level, hugging the back wall to stay out of sight as they made their way to one of the many side doors on the upper level.
Ian counted ten men surrounding the dais. But, he noted that they were taller and larger than the average human. These were the stronger beast-men that Gareth had kept for his own personal guard.
Ian winced at the memory of the beast-man who had thrown him across the beach. They had no chance fighting against ten of them—no, twelve, as there were two more guarding the side doors of the room—without the help of the Majis. Onric would need to work fast to get a door open.
Ian needed to distract Gareth and his guards long enough for that to happen.
His chance of surviving this fight once again careened back to looking grim.
Ian stopped at the top of the stairs. Gareth was still leaning over his father’s body, but the body was not lifeless! Frederich twitched, his muscles moving as though in pain, but no sound left his father’s mouth.
“Gareth!” Ian shouted, drawing the man’s attention away from his father.
Gareth stood, turning frantically toward the sound of Ian’s shout.
Ian thought he detected a brief purple flash connecting his father’s chest with Gareth’s hand.
For a man who had just lost the battle in the courtyard, the face that Gareth turned up at Ian looked far too pleased, even from a distance.
“You have lost,” Ian said. His voice sounded oddly hushed in the heavy air of the mostly empty room.
Several of the large men guarding Gareth raised their hands. Ian could see shiny reflections sparkling off strings of glass beads in their hands. The beast-man on the shore had not fought with magic, but it was good to note that even they required a store of magic to draw from.
Gareth lifted his hand to stop them from attacking.
Ian walked slowly down the staircase, knowing that every eye was on him. He trailed his hand along the railing as he moved. He wanted to run to his father, relieve him from pain, and take him far away from Gareth. But he was too vastly outnumbered to make a sudden move.
“Your soldiers used chaos magic in front of everyone,” Ian said, gesturing in the direction of the courtyard. Gareth had left the balcony before that happened, and while Ian assumed he knew that information, he wanted to be sure that Gareth knew he had lost.
Gareth’s smile fell as his eyes narrowed.
“Your secret is no more,” Ian said. “You have nothing left to gain.” In order to bargain for his father’s life, he needed to assert the power that he had, even if he was outnumbered.
But, as he got close enough to actually make out Gareth’s eyes, Ian worried that he had said too much.
The Gareth standing on the dais was not the confident, benevolent savior in resplendent armor who easily manipulated everyone around him.
Nor was he the cruel and calculating leader that he had been in their past interactions.
The man on the dais was a version of Gareth Ian had not seen before. His eyes were hungry, but also panicked. He reminded Ian of a frightened horse during battle when it could not decide whether to run away or charge headfirst into the fray.
As he stopped at the foot of the dais, Ian lifted his hands, both in a gesture of peace and as if to attempt to calm a wild animal.
“You speak the truth,” Gareth finally said, looking down the five steps of the dais at Ian. “I have lost. I have lost the loyalty and goodwill of some of your people. Perhaps their rumors will spread to the other kingdoms. Perhaps not.”
A movement from Frederich drew Ian’s attention for a moment. His father’s hand was trembling, but his eyes were still closed.
“But I have not lost everything,” Gareth said. He stepped forward, dropping one foot onto the top step of the short staircase in front of him. “I am glad you survived my first attack last silverreign, here in this very room.”
Ian tightened his shoulders, stiffening his neck as he maintained the awkward position of looking sharply up at Gareth.
“I am glad you resisted my assassins on the road, lucky as it was for you to escape.” Gareth’s eyes returned to the more familiar look of calculated cruelty.
“And I am glad that I let you live on the beach yesterday morning.” He shook his head.
“I lied. Your words were actually false. I have not lost everything. I have one more thing to gain.”
Gareth looked over his shoulder at Frederich lying behind him.
“I am glad because you are here to witness this moment.” He lifted his foot from the step, turning fully toward Frederich.
“Because if you were dead, I would not get to witness the moment in which you will lose everything.” He dropped to his knee beside the prone king, lifting a hand over Frederich.
Unable to contain himself, Ian leapt up the stairs. His movement was instantly stopped as several strong hands grabbed him from behind.
Gareth’s face held a horrifyingly content smile as he looked back at Ian. “I will offer you a choice,” Gareth said.
Gareth held open his hand, revealing a string of chaos magic beads.
The end of the string dangled past his palm.
“I recently lost a large store of the magic I had so carefully built up.” He clenched his fist around the beads.
A flash of anger momentarily disturbed the smile on his face.
Then it was gone. “I want you to know that what I am about to do is entirely your fault.” He moved his hand over Frederich, the beads swaying beneath it but not long enough to touch Frederich’s face.
Ian struggled against the two men that held him in place.
A flash of purple lightning zapped from Frederich up to the beads, and Ian’s father let out a small moan.
“Stop!” Ian yelled. He pulled and twisted his limbs against the two beast-men who restrained him, but their grip only tightened around him.
“You have lost!” Ian screamed, needing to do anything to draw Gareth’s attention away from his father.
“Do you not understand that? No one will believe you now. Everyone will know how you have gained your power, and no one will trust you again!”
“You have no idea what I have yet to gain!” Gareth raised his voice as though he could not help matching Ian’s frantic tone. “Here is your choice.” He turned back to Ian.
Ian stopped struggling. Gareth’s movement had broken the connection between his father and the chaos beads.
“Leave this place,” Gareth said. “Take the Majis with you and go back to the Isle of Exile. I will let you live out the rest of your miserable life in service to me there. In exchange, I will remove the chaos from your father’s body, the chaos that has kept him in this state between death and life, and I will let him live. ”
Ian looked up at Gareth. A part of him immediately wanted to accept this offer—anything to save the life of the father he loved.
Then, Ian slumped against the hands that held him upright, ashamed that he was even considering this request. He could not, would not, lead hundreds of innocent people back to captivity just to save one life, even if that life was his father’s.
“You do not appear pleased with this option,” Gareth said from above him.
“So I will offer you the other half of this choice. You may remain here and watch your father die. It will be a painful death, as I need to restore the magic which was stolen from me.” Gareth’s voice was devoid of any emotion.
“Choosing this option will, of course, result in your death.”
Ian waited for several heartbeats to ensure that Gareth had finished speaking.
This was no choice and they both knew it, but Gareth was going to make Ian say the words out loud. He wanted Ian to feel the pain of choosing death for someone he loved.
Then he lifted his head to look directly at the cruel king. “I love my father, but I cannot be an accomplice in your campaign of lies and cruelty. I will stand with the Majis until my dying breath to ensure that Iseldis—and the kingdoms beyond—are safe for every person.”
Once again, Ian knew that he was choosing to do the harder thing, even though this choice would produce no happiness for him.
And even though he knew it was the right choice, he felt no peace for having chosen it.
He had just chosen to watch his father die.
There would be no peace with either option.
Gareth smiled. “I had hoped you would say that.”