Forgotten Embers

82. Dead Where He Stands

The clacking of his boots echoed in the empty halls of Zephyr's fortress as he ran, sword in hand, back towards the battle.

'Why?'

The scene replayed in his mind, tormenting him. It was all so surreal.

'Why did he not pull his sword? He saw me come. He could have killed me, but instead he just looked at me with those wounded eyes.'

He closed his eyes in consternation, remembering the woman.

'And he pled for her life but not his own. I wonder... could there be something more to love than fleeting fancy and friendship than selfish interest... or have I killed the last of it?'

He paused in his stride, thinking to go back.

'He's dead now, isn't he?' he wondered, looking back. 'If he weren't, I'd like to ask him. I'd like to ask him why, but he's dead now, isn't he? I've killed him, haven't I?'

He felt a sudden shock of alarm as he realized the enormity of the consequences of his action.

"My God, I've killed the Ambassador," he muttered to himself as he stood alone in the dimly lit corridor of the palace. "What the Hölle was I thinking?"

He thought back to the scene again, the act seared in his memory.

'He never even reached for his sword. Was he even armed? Perhaps he wasn't. If his arrest is grounds for a war, what is his murder? And Garner... she was so hurt by it. I've never seen such pain on anyone's face as I did on hers. But, I suppose, I should have killed her, too... I just couldn't. Not with her looking at me like that. Not with Webber pleading.'

He felt the pressure building in his chest as the water fell from his eyes, and he touched it with his fingertips.

'What, am I... crying?'

He wiped the last of the tears from his eyes and shut them out, steeling himself for the battle.

'There are no tears in war. No regrets. Never mourn.'

And he turned and ran again, with the clack of his boots echoing in the barren halls of the fortress as he went. By this time, he knew that the Inquisitor would be on the observation deck assisting Zahaynei, Almauni, and Iphor in directing the battle. It was their hope that a well-coordinated attack between the magicians, the army, and the Intelligence Corps would be enough to break the rebel lines and overwhelm their forces, but Kelvin knew, also, that Lord Kallida had something special in mind for the treasonous Lord Blackridge.

***

The Inquisitor was with Zahaynei when he found him, and the young soldier fell on his knee in reverence as he approached.

"Is it done?" Kallida asked him, his eyes slipping back towards his apprentice.

"Yes, my lord," Kelvin replied humbly, raising his eyes to those of his master.

"And what else?" Kallida asked him. "Did anyone come?"

"Yes, my lord," Kelvin replied. "Just one... the Ambassador. He came alone," he falsely informed him, and his eyes dropped to the side as he lied to him.

"Pity," the Inquisitor stated. "I had hoped that the Seer would join him in his death, especially being as we had her brother. Though, to be honest, I wouldn't want him back if he were mine."

Kelvin shook his head, "The Ambassador doesn't strike me as the kind of person to put her through anything so dangerous."

"You've met him?" Kallida asked, raising an eyebrow as he passed a speculative glance.

"Only today," Kelvin muttered. "He leaves quite an impression."

"Or did," Kallida replied coldly. "Do you see there?" the sorcerer asked him, pointing down to the chaotic battlefield below.

Kelvin followed the direction of his finger to the sight of a familiar man dressed in a pyrite cloak who led the advance as he struck down the magician's monsters.

"Lord Blackridge," Kelvin observed, watching as he fought the men off valiantly, knocking them to the ground and disarming them.

"Notice that he isn't killing anyone," Kallida noted as they watched the Archmage from afar, "and that is how we'll beat him."

"Sir?" Kelvin answered, puzzled.

"Come, I'll show you," Kallida said, turning from his place and walking towards the door which led down into the palace.

Kelvin followed after the Inquisitor, leaving the Captain of the Army with his archers.

"Are you certain the Ambassador is dead?" Kallida asked him as the two walked quickly down the spiral stairs of the castle tower.

Kelvin swallowed nervously, almost regretting the answer. "Yes, my lord," he replied. "I thrust him with my saber like a skewer, and I saw the pain strike in his eyes as I twisted it about through his organs. I have his blood still on my blade. If you would like, you can inspect it."

"No, no," Kallida replied, waving his hand in dismissal, "that won't be necessary. I don't doubt that you killed him; I doubt that he's dead, and those are two very separate matters. He has always had this nasty tendency towards life, but it makes no difference now. If we find that he's not dead, we'll just kill him again until he is." He laughed, "It might even make Almast happy to do so multiple times."

'Life? Could he be... like Caliphus? No. No, not this time. Webber is... I know he's dead. I could see it... in the way he looked at me, in the way he pled for her... I could see it. Her welfare was his last request. He knew it. I knew it. She knew it. I killed him. So, he's dead.'

Kelvin felt a twisting in his stomach. He was becoming nauseous from the conversation, and sought out something else to discuss. "What about Blackridge?" he asked, moving back to the topic at hand.

'I suppose he expects me to kill him, also.'

"Ah, yes," Kallida sneered. "I have something very special in mind for Lord Blackridge, and you may be very instrumental in its working. You see, Mr. Dehnhardt, I've challenged Lord Blackridge to a duel, one that he thinks he can win, because he has always beaten me. He is a skilled swordsman, unmatched by anyone apart from our Lord King Zephyr himself, and he has never lost a match of swords to anyone but his master."

"How will you win, then," Kelvin asked, "if he always beats you?"

Kallida chuckled devilishly. "This match will different," he told him, "because this time I will be using magic to enhance my fighting ability, and you, Mr. Dehnhardt, are going to be my guardian angel."

Kelvin was hesitant. "Sir?" he replied, unsure of his meaning.

"I shouldn't lose, Mr. Dehnhardt, but if it seems I have, I want you to kill him."

"Kill him," Kelvin repeated, keeping his voice low. It was somewhere between a thought and a question.

"Yes," the Inquisitor nodded, his eyes alight with his murderous intent. "Kill him. I want you to shoot him. Shoot him straight through the heart, dead where he stands, just as you did Caliphus. You're an excellent shot. I know you won't miss, even with the dueling sabers. Besides, if he has me on the ground, it should make for an easy shot for you, should it not?"

Kelvin nodded slowly, considering the sight in his mind, "Extremely."

He pictured in his mind the scene, Blackridge having overcome Kallida's magic and knocking the sorcerer from his feet, disarming him. There would the Archmage stand with the point of his pyrite sword at the Inquisitor's throat, waiting for him to call on redemption, and... pull. His fingers felt the string's release as his eyes marked the arrow's path.

'It would be harder to miss...'