Akiri: The Scepter of Xarbaal Page 16

  Akiri refused to believe him, and there was nothing Tuvarius could say that would sway him.

  His uncle gave him a sad smile and poured the brandy. “To have the son of his chief adversary serve him was to be his final revenge.” He downed the drink in a single gulp and immediately poured another. “I once served King Zemel in the same way you do. In fact, I was one of the very last to see what he had become. Your father tried to tell me, but like you I refused to accept it. It wasn’t until the wars began that I finally came to realize the truth.”

  Akiri pushed the brandy aside. “And what truth is that?”

  “That he is possessed. You see, when Zemel returned from the east, bearing the Scepter of Xarbaal, he assured the Tul’Zahar that the legends they had heard were unfounded. He insisted it was nothing more than a trinket – a ceremonial object of no significant power. He even went so far as to suggest that it might not be the original Scepter. And at first, nothing appeared to be amiss.” His eyes darkened. “But then the rumors of war started. Zemel was convinced that the King of Merina to the south was plotting to attack us. He even had strong evidence to support this claim.”

  “Merina did attack us,” Akiri jumped in.

  Tuvarius sniffed. “Of course. What else could they do? Zemel had assassinated their king.”

  Akiri looked at him incredulously. “That is a lie.”

  “I thought so too when the King of Kalmar first made the accusation. Only your father was able to see the truth immediately.”

  “Is that why he betrayed his king?” Akiri asked.

  “First of all, it was Zemel who betrayed him,” Tuvarius retorted sharply, struggling with his anger. “But no. Serhan did nothing at first. He shared his concerns with me, but I dismissed them. I told him that even if it were true, I was sure Zemel had good reason. After all, before he was crowned king, he had been a Tul’Zahar himself. As was his father before him.”

  This revelation took Akiri slightly aback. “But the Tul’Zahar were riders of dragons. King Zemel has outlawed their existence.”

  Tuvarius’ fury was showing clearly on his face. “I know that all too well. He did so because even now he fears the return of our order. Dragons gave us a powerful connection to magic. A fully trained Tul’Zahar atop his dragon was capable of…”

  His voice became briefly distant, as if recalling a fading memory. “We were truly powerful. Feared and loved in equal measure.” He then stiffened and his eyes burned. “Only through betrayal was Zemel able to withstand us.”

  “You might believe that King Zemel betrayed the Tul’Zahar,” Akiri said. “But I know full well it was they who attacked their own nation. They allied themselves with the other five kingdoms in order to conquer Acharia.”

  “Yes, that is true,” Tuvarius agreed. “But they did it to save Acharia from a far worse fate. Zemel had become totally mad with power. He wanted to conquer the world and was prepared to kill anyone who questioned him. I witnessed the aftermath of his insanity. An entire village was burned to the ground and the dismembered bodies of its people left scattered about like fallen leaves.”

  “War is brutal,” Akiri pointed out. “Sometimes one must act without mercy to be victorious.”

  “I know that, but what I described was not a foreign village. These were our fellow Acharians he slaughtered. A village elder had requested that they be allowed to keep a larger portion of their harvest; it had been a brutal winter and the needs of the army had taxed them beyond their limits. They were close to starving. Zemel replied by sending a hundred men to wipe them from the face of existence.” He met Akiri’s gaze. “It was only then that your father decided to take action.”

  Akiri huffed. “I have never heard of such a massacre.”

  “Why would you have?” replied Tuvarius. “Zemel may be mad, but he is also very clever. The soldiers responsible for razing the village and murdering its people were themselves put to the sword soon afterwards. I only discovered this by chance.”

  “And how do you know it was the king who ordered all of this killing?”

  Tuvarius gave a mirthless chuckle. “Zemel himself told me. He had become so possessed by the power of the Scepter that he cared nothing for what the Tul’Zahar thought. He no longer saw himself as a man but as a god. It was your father’s hope that when he took the Scepter and hid it away, Zemel would be released from its hold and regain his sanity. Sadly, it did not work out that way. Instead he flew into a terrible rage and vowed our destruction.” Tuvarius folded his hands on the table and lowered his head. “In the end, he achieved his wish.”

  Akiri regarded his uncle. There didn’t appear to be any attempt at deception. The sadness in his eyes and the barely perceptible tremor in his voice made his words highly convincing. But there had to be more than this to the tale. King Zemel would never slaughter his own people, and he was most definitely not insane.

  Tuvarius shook his head. “You still doubt the truth of what I am saying, but consider this – the only thing preventing Zemel from wreaking unspeakable havoc across the entire land is his loss of the Scepter. Without the power this gave him, he can be contained by a determined foe. Which is exactly what’s happening. Acharia has been locked in a state of war for decades, yet still he persists in his lust for more conquest and power. Should you succeed in your mission, Akiri, he will become unstoppable. You will then see for yourself the most loathsome horrors unleashed, and realize too late that I am speaking the truth.”

  “And do you intend to stop me, uncle?”

  “I haven’t yet decided. For now, I am content to have you here.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I must rest for a while. Return to your room. I will tell you more about your father later.”

  Akiri rose. He wanted to hear more. Not because he believed his uncle’s words, but so that he might find a hole in the story. Something to prove that the man was either lying or delusional. But it was clear Tuvarius would say no more until he was ready to do so.

  A guard standing at the entrance to the tower escorted him back to his chambers. He had heard the history of how the wars had started many times. The Tul’Zahar had betrayed the king and tried to steal his throne by joining forces with the five bordering nations. Treachery such as that had to be renounced. The seeds of betrayal couldn’t be allowed to flourish. Traitors had to be ground down into the dirt. Broken. King Zemel, through his great courage and strength, had eventually prevailed and cast them down. Since that time, the lands to the south had been under his control, their kings and queens mere vassals, but this had not brought about peace. Fresh armies and allegiances were constantly being formed elsewhere, and the rebellions had been never-ending.

  Until now, Akiri had never thought to question this account; but after seeing the conviction in Tuvarius’ eyes and hearing the pain in his voice, confusion was slowly creeping into his mind. He still wasn’t convinced, but for the first time in his life he couldn’t help but wonder if there might be more to the story than he had been permitted to know. Something was stirring inside him. Something that he didn’t like. He might not be the Commander of the Dul’Buhar any longer, but he was still Akiri.

  He was lost in his thoughts when the door cracked open a few inches. Almost immediately the sweet scent of honeysuckle drifted through, telling him that the eyes peering in at him were those of Queen Chelia. A moment later she entered, still wearing the elegant sapphire dress that hugged her curves so perfectly. Flashes of the night they had spent together caused his desires to stir. With an effort, he pushed them aside.

  She closed the door behind her and paused for a moment, her expression tight with barely contained anger. “I should have you whipped to death for what you did.”

  “And what did I do?”

  “You used me,” she snapped back. “You shared my bed so that you could gain entry to the palace. Do not bother denying it.”

  “I do not deny it, Your Highness.”

  She glared at Akiri, fists clenched for a menacing moment. With
a burst of energy, she then spanned the room with rapid strides until she stood directly in front of him. With surprising speed and force, she let her hand fly. He could have easily avoided it, but he allowed the blow to strike him across his cheek. He didn’t flinch. That earned him a second slap.

  “What kind of man are you?” she demanded, the hint of a tremor in her tone.

  “I am Akiri, Your Highness. Nothing more.”

  She met his eyes. For a moment, he thought that she would strike him again, but instead she reached up and pulled him to her, kissing him with crushing desire. The contact, though brief, was more than enough to fuel the fire of his passion. As she tried to back away, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her hard up against him. Her head jerked back with the force of the movement, and a tiny gasp slipped from her mouth. This time their kiss was even more urgent and fiery, her tongue searching desperately for his. Her fingers danced their way downwards, seeking out the growing bulge between his legs. Akiri held her back.

  “Come to me tonight, Your Highness,” he said, his tone set firm.

  After taking a step back, she smoothed her dress and glowered at him. “You dare to command me?”

  “It is an invitation, Your Highness. Not a command.”

  He wanted her every bit as much as she seemed to want him, but he was also well aware of how dangerous it was to risk this in the middle of the day, when prying eyes might easily discover them.

  The queen straightened her back and lifted her chin. “I will consider it,” she told him, and then spun on her heels and walked with graceful strides to the door.

  Akiri watched her every move with appreciation. She was a worthy queen, but he knew he had to proceed with great care. He did not want to think for even a moment of the complications that would arise should the king come to hear of their meetings. In truth, he could not recall any other woman who would have caused him to risk so much. He hoped he would not live to regret his rashness.

  Chapter Eleven

  That night the queen came to his bed.

  Her lust for him was unrelenting, and their lovemaking lasted until the first light of dawn crept over the horizon. By the time she left, he was completely spent and soon fell into an uncharacteristically deep sleep.

  When he woke it was well into morning, and he gave himself a silent reprimand for his slothfulness. Normally, this would be followed by a self-imposed punishment involving extra training and overnight guard duty. No Dul’Buhar was above discipline, the commander more so than anyone.

  “But you are no longer commander of the Dul’Buhar,” called a child’s voice from across the room.

  Akiri sprang up from the bed, wondering how anyone could have entered the room without him noticing. Whatever the answer, it had clearly happened. Sitting on a chair near the unlit fireplace, dressed in a simple cotton shirt and trousers, was a small boy no more than eight years old. Red hair fell to his shoulders in tiny curls, framing a chubby face that was covered in freckles. His bright blue eyes sparkled as he smiled innocently.

  “How did you get in here, boy?” Akiri demanded. “Who are you?”

  The youngster laughed. “Such pride to think that no one can sneak past the mighty Akiri.” He clicked his tongue. “It will be your undoing if you are not careful.”

  There was something odd about this child. Both his manner of speech and his posture were not at all like one expected of a small boy. Sitting with back straight and hands resting easily in his lap, he bore a confident demeanor normally reserved for those with experience of power.

  “Who are you?” Akiri repeated.

  “You are everything I dared hope you would be,” the child said, still ignoring the question. “You will do very nicely.”

  Akiri took an imposing step forward. “Tell me who you are, boy.”

  “Boy? Is that the form I have taken?” He sighed. “It’s been a long time, and I fear I am out of practice.” He slid from the chair and looked down at himself. “Yes. I suppose this isn’t exactly the best way I could have presented myself. Small and weak.” He looked up and regarded Akiri. “Nothing like you. Nothing at all.”

  “Enough of this nonsense,” Akiri growled. He took another, more rapid step forward, intent on forcing some answers out of the youngster, but that was as far as he got. Before he could take another stride, in a blinding flash of movement, the boy was suddenly standing behind him, next to the bed.

  “Do you intend to hurt me?” he asked. “If so, you’ll need to do much better than that.”

  “I am in no mood for your childish games,” Akiri told him, trying hard to conceal his surprise at this amazing display of speed.

  “Quite right. I will now introduce myself.” The boy bowed low, extending both arms. “I am Vazhta, messenger and servant of Mishna, Mistress of the Light and Goddess of Wisdom. And it is my sincere honor to meet you.”

  “So, a spirit demon,” Akiri muttered. He didn’t believe for a moment that this abomination had been sent by Mishna. The gods cared nothing for mortals or their prayers. He despised the way the temples continued to make regular sacrifices to beings who did nothing to aid those who worshipped them. If they were ignored, perhaps they would just fade away into oblivion.

  “I can see that you find my claim preposterous,” Vazhta continued. “But there is no reason for you to trust me, I suppose.”

  “I have no desire to banter with spirits.”

  “I am not a spirit,” he retorted, frowning. “They are foul creatures who serve no one. Formless and without clear intent. I am definitely not a spirit.” He lowered his eyes, as if in deep contemplation. “But now that I think about it, I am not entirely certain what you would call me. A demon, perhaps? That might be more fitting. Although the word implies that I am evil. But I can assure you that I am not.”

  “I care nothing for your character, and if you are a messenger of Mishna, then you have wasted your time revealing yourself to me. I have no use for the gods or their minions.”

  Vazhta giggled with delight. “I can see why she has taken notice of you. Most people are terrified when they meet me. But not you. There is no fear at all.” He waved his hand. “Forgive me. I digress. My mistress knows of your plan to seek the Scepter of Xarbaal. When Tuvarius had it in his possession, he should never have allowed it to remain intact; but at the time he would not listen to reason. Now, after many years, an opportunity has come again to make things right.”

  Akiri’s interest was suddenly captured. “Are you saying you know where the Scepter is hidden?” he asked, a little too quickly.

  “Alas, no. Tuvarius is still the only one who knows of its location. And he has not been forthcoming.”

  Disappointment surged in Akiri, raising a sneer. “So you would have me learn of its whereabouts from him and then acquire it for you. Why doesn’t Mishna do this herself? She is a goddess, isn’t she? Or are you lying about being her messenger?”

  “Mishna cannot be directly involved. Which is why she has enlisted your help.”

  “Then you can tell her that my help is not hers to enlist,” Akiri stated. “I do not serve the gods. Nor will I be tricked by some demon spirit into betraying my king.”

  Vazhta waved it away dismissively. “I’m afraid you have no choice in the matter. You will serve Mishna. The King of Acharia must not be permitted to use the Scepter ever again.” His blue eyes abruptly darkened, as if a deep shadow had fallen upon them. “Should you test my mistress’ resolve in this matter, the consequences will be most severe.”

  “You do not frighten me, demon. Leave before my patience is exhausted.”

  “You have been warned, Akiri.”

  In the blink of an eye, the boy vanished.

  Akiri stood absolutely still for the best part of a minute, glaring at the spot where the spirit had been. Every instinct he possessed told him not to trust anything it had said. Even if this Vazhta did in fact serve Mishna, it made little difference. The motives of the gods were seldom in keeping with th
e best interests of those in the mortal world.

  A moment later there was a soft rap on the door, and a servant entered carrying a tray of porridge, fruits, and a portion of ham. After placing it on the table, she curtsied politely.

  “King Lanmar has commanded that you join him in his personal study within the hour,” she said, and left without waiting for a reply.

  Akiri wondered what the king might want with him. It was unlikely to be anything to do with the queen’s infidelity, as the message would have undoubtedly come from a group of heavily armed soldiers, not a servant girl.

  After finishing his meal, he washed himself in a small basin and dressed in a pair of plain brown trousers and a white shirt he found inside the wardrobe, along with a pair of leather boots.

  Outside the door, two guards were waiting to escort him to the king. The palace was truly immense. Even though Akiri had seen quite a bit of it by now, he soon realized that it was far more expansive than he had imagined. At almost every corner they turned, he saw people hard at work decorating and cleaning, presumably for the upcoming birthday celebration. It took them nearly fifteen minutes to thread their way through the multitude of corridors and halls before eventually arriving at the king’s study.

  The room was neither as lavish nor as large as Akiri had expected. Though far from shabby, the furnishings appeared a touch worn, and the tall bookshelves that lined every wall ensured that there was very little scope for stylish décor. A fire smoldered in a small hearth on the left, while on the opposite side of the room stood a modest desk. King Lanmar was seated behind this, poring over a tall stack of papers. He glanced up briefly and pointed to the chair just in front of him. Akiri took a seat and waited in silence while the monarch continued with his work.

  Eventually Lanmar pushed the papers aside and leaned back in his chair. “I know who you are, Akiri. And I must say your presence here troubles me a great deal.”