Chapter 57 The Warlord
The Warlord
“I’d like to mark their graves,” Ellowyn intoned quietly as we stood on the small hill just outside Cellia.
The air was still, the lack of breeze only amplifying the growing humidity in the air. The cadets were silent, quickly tacking and mounting the horses we’d left outside. No one said a word, the distant cawing of crows the only noise.
It was eerie—almost as much as the look on my wife’s face.
There was an ethereal detachment present, like she was listening to something on a different plane. For all I knew, she was.
“My magic is calling me to, Alois,” she murmured, the fingers of her right hand gently trailing up the forearm of her left. “I don’t know why, but it feels right.”
She turned her steel-grey eyes to me, then, and fixed me with a look that bespoke of wisdom so far beyond her twenty-six years.
I nodded my head curtly. “Be quick.”
No sooner were the words out of my mouth than she was hurrying down the hill, her steps stirring dust as she crunched down the path to the entrance of Cellia.
We’d buried or burned all of the bodies in Cellia so there was nothing left for the crows to pick at, no physical reminder of the atrocities that were committed.
All that remained were the burnt husks of homes and stores of the once-thriving village.
I doubted anyone would ever inhabit this place again, the ghosts of the dead haunting their final resting place.
Ellowyn stopped just outside of the open gates and fiddled with her hands for a moment.
“What is she doing?” Sasori grumbled.
Gods, she’s annoying.
“We need to get moving,” she barked and stormed after my wife. I grabbed Sasori by the arm and pulled her back roughly.
“Stop. Just wait,” I commanded, and Sasori stilled.
Ellowyn raised her hands to chest height, and I saw her shoulders hitch as she drew a deep breath. Seconds later, diaphanous strains of ashes and embers unwound from her hands.
There were a few gasps and soft exclamations as the other cadets watched Ellowyn work. She directed the stream of her magic to the remaining buildings, and I was awestruck as it twined between the structures, quickly reducing them all to no more than ash.
In seconds, Ellowyn had leveled the entirety of Cellia; not one building or store remained.
Just as her Destruction Magic faded, tendrils of the brightest green flecked with pure gold exploded from her palms in a swirl. A magical wind blew with the ferocity of her magic, scattering Cellia’s ashes completely.
Seconds later, Ellowyn closed her palms and dropped her hands, her magic dissipating with the movement.
The cloud of Creation cleared, and in its place was a large stone monument, not unlike the obelisk that stood in the center of the square in Vespera.
It was pure white and shone in the sun; even from here, yards away, I could read the inscription:
“Here lie the brave men, women, and children of Cellia, who stood against a tyrant. May Fate watch over their souls and guide them home.”
I read aloud, the cadets shifting nervously at her awesome display.
Ellowyn trudged back up the small hill, the use of her magic clearly draining her energy. Her skin was pale and sweaty, dark circles under her eyes.
She didn’t look at anyone, didn’t answer any whispered questions, simply mounted her horse and pulled it back into line next to Leal.
The work of a queen.
“To Vespera,” I announced.
The ride back to Vespera was almost unnervingly quiet. The rowdy banter and idle chatter that characterized the cadets’ boisterous attitudes on our way to Cellia was notably absent; the sights and smells of the attack had muffled everything.
As is typical of the first battle—the first scent of death.
You never truly forget the smell of decaying human flesh, it’s always there in your nightmares. I’d encountered enough “Cellias” in my life that it all blurred together now.
The only reprieve from the oppressive silence was Ellowyn’s occasional question about her origins.
Each time, however, I ignored her. As I told her back in Cellia, the information was sensitive and not what I wished to discuss in front of others.
It was entertaining to watch, however, when she would motion for Sasori to ride in the column next to a Mage named Leal, simply so Ellowyn could speak to me.
Sasori’s gaze was nothing but sneering hostility, a disrespect I normally wouldn’t tolerate, but Ellowyn needed to grow a thick skin, quickly.
With each snub from Sasori, Ellowyn’s piercing aristocratic stare only grew colder, and I watched gleefully as Sasori finally caved under the pressure.
She will make a great queen.
But even with the entertainment Ellowyn provided, it was not enough to loosen my tongue.
Eventually she stopped trying to engage me in conversation, choosing to ride in stony silence, her eyes fixed studiously on the horse in front of her, though it was clear her mind was elsewhere.
Occasionally she would fiddle with the golden band on her finger—I was surprised she even still wore it—the soft sound of metal scraping skin flooding my ears.
Three silent days later, we arrived back in Vespera, cold, hungry, and dirty. Lex led the rest of the cadets to the city stables while I directed Ellowyn to the personal stables near the manor.
“Are you going to speak to me now?” Ellowyn clipped, ice coating her words.
The imperiousness shot a bolt of fire to my dick, but I tightened the reins on my lust. I would probably always desire Ellowyn—it was one of the reasons I’d made her my wife, after all—but it was clear she was no longer interested in that portion of our relationship.
Had to be done.
I fastidiously ignored her; it was like a game to me now, and I wanted to see how far I could push her before she cracked completely.
“Or am I simply not worth your time?” Ellowyn huffed, handing the reins to a stable boy with a quick nod of thanks.
She peeled off her gloves next, exposing thin, pale fingers.
My eyes were drawn to the movement even as I felt them shake in their sockets.
Kaos’ magic was draining me faster than usual lately.
Time is running out.
“It’s interesting because you seemed to have plenty to say to Sasori. Or did you talk with your cock rather than your mouth? I’m sure she’d love to sit on it for you, if she hasn’t already,” she spat, red coloring her cheeks and the tips of her ears.
A slow grin spread across my face.
“Jealous, wife?”
She shook her head and scoffed as she crossed her arms, which only served to push her breasts up against her tunic. “Of course that’s what you would reply to.”
I grinned with a shrug before handing my own warhorse off to the stable boy.
“If you were going to offer, I’d dutifully accept.”
Ellowyn simply rolled her eyes before striding from the stable. “You’re impossible.”
I quickly caught up to her, our strides nearly equal in length.
“Follow me and we can have that conversation you’ve been dying to start,” I intoned lowly as we walked down the sidewalk toward the manor.
“This better not be some sort of trick, Alois,” Ellowyn grumbled as we made our way inside the manor.
Instead of heading up the staircase to our respective rooms, I gestured for her to turn down the hallway that led to the basement.
We descended the stone stairs, the air growing colder the further underground we traveled, before the floor leveled out into a long hallway, the monotony only broken by the occasional lit sconce.
“Creepy,” she muttered, but there was no heat behind her words.
“This is our personal passage into the Academy,” I explained as our steps echoed in the tight space. “You are free to use it as you wish. I only ask that you do not speak of its existence to anyone else.”
She nodded her head once and we fell into silence once more.
I led Ellowyn through the singular door at the end of the hall before leading her down another few flights of stairs.
There was a Mage Orb locked door at the very bottom that only responded to Rohak’s and my signatures.
I swept my hand across it before undoing the heavy metal latch and pushing the oak door open.
It was dark beyond, and I felt Ellowyn tense slightly, her face an unreadable mask as we entered the blackened space.
A quick touch of a button on the wall had the space flooding with magical light.
“An empty room?” she asked dryly, and I shook my head, turning to face her.
“This is a failsafe room,” I explained, and she cocked her head at me quizzically, her blood-and dirt-matted braid falling to one shoulder. “It’s an in-between of sorts for what lies beyond. If someone happens to get through the outer door then they’d be trapped here. It’s a security measure.”
Ellowyn simply raised her eyebrows at me, waiting for me to continue.
“How do you feel after Cellia?”
Ellowyn reared her head back and blinked rapidly at me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what do you feel? What is running through that beautiful mind of yours?”
“You know I’m worried. Concerned. Frustrated. Disgusted,” she explained, fastidiously avoiding my compliment.
“Yes, but you have a personal attachment to this, yes?”
Ellowyn crossed her arms in defense, her chest rising and falling with the deepness of her breath. “I’m . . .”—she shook her head—“I don’t know what I am. What’s all of this about, Alois?”
I smiled thinly at her.
“I’m simply trying to gauge your headspace right now.
Because, once I take you through those doors, you cannot unsee what is there.
There are certain . . . things you inherit whenever you take a throne.
” I gestured behind me. “What is behind those doors is one of the things I inherited. Every kingdom has their secrets, their threats to security. Behind there is how General d’Alvey and I deal with ours. ”
Recognition and understanding flashed in her cool grey eyes before she gave me a jerky nod.
“I understand, Alois. I think after Cellia, not much will surprise me.”
I laughed ruefully. “You would think that, Ellowyn. But it’s never the case. There’s always something worse, something more heinous than the last.”
“Boiling babies is probably the worst thing I’ll ever encounter,” she almost whispered, and I hesitantly reached out to touch her. Surprisingly, she let me and even leaned into my palm where I’d placed it against her shoulder.
“Admittedly, that was one of the worst things I’ve seen as well,” I said, though I didn’t mention what my own Mages had done in my name in the Valley.
A necessary evil she wouldn’t understand.
“What’s behind that door will give me the answers I need?” she asked, pulling away from my hand. My palm was still warm where it had touched her, and I flexed it unconsciously.
I sighed. “I’ll be there with you to help wade through any lies or half-truths.”
But only if they come from those locked inside. I can’t read you, wife.
The thought was still unnerving, though I was growing to understand what it meant.
“Then I’m ready,” she said, her icy mask back in place, her voice cool and unaffected.
I gestured for her to follow me and unlocked the door that led into the prison beneath the Academy.