The Bane of the Empire

Chapter 29

"Now, tell me," The woman began as she continued to swirl the red liquid in her glass, "Dawn Rentradie, why are you here?"

Dawn clenched her teeth, preventing the gasp from leaving her lips and betraying her shock at hearing her full name. The woman brought the glass to her lips and took a small sip. She regarded her with indifference. Her depthless eyes returning to Dawn as a slow smirk transformed her face. She was a predator and Dawn had just become her prey.

"Answer the question, child."

"I am searching for the truth."

"Ha!" The woman exclaimed. "The truth is arbitrary. The truth, my dear girl, is what ever you want it to be."

She took a gulp of her wine, liberally drinking the contents of the glass before setting it on the table between the two chairs. "Tell me Dawn, what will you do once you know the truth?"

The woman leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she listened intently for her answer. Go up the stairs, down the hall, find the tome, get your sword, go down the river. She ran through the words in her mind, drilling them into her being. But no amount of chanting and repeating brought her strength. Go up the stairs, down the hall, find the tome, get your sword, go down the river...and then what?

"I-I don't know."

A knowing smile broke across her face. "You don't know."

The woman extended her delicate hand and Dawn flinched as her fingertips ran from her temple to her jaw and remaining under her chin. Her breath hitched as the woman pushed her chin upward, assessing her features. She remained, inbreathing, held in the woman's cold clutches. She barely held her but Dawn was motionless, rooted into the chair and unable to move. The woman abruptly stood up and walked to the large desk on the opposite side of the room.

"Come and look at this." Dawn obediently stood up and came to stand beside the woman.

"Pick one."

Looking down she saw two books positioned side by side. One was a thin leather bound volume, the last log to the Archmage's puzzle. The second was the tome.

The woman was watching her, assessing her. A lithe predator prowling around its unsuspecting prey. But Dawn knew she was being hunted. A suspecting prey, knowing its impending doom was much worse than an oblivious one.

"Pick one."

She reached a hand out, laying it over the book she chose. The engraved concentric rings under her fingers.

"Wrong choice." The woman whispered into her ear. And within a heartbeat, Dawn felt fire burst from her hand as her fingers contorted—peeling back from where they rested on the tome. An earsplitting scream escaped her lips as her hand was held in place by an invisible force. Her bones popped and broke under her skin. Tears ran down her face, both from fear and pain as Dawn watched her hand take on an ungodly shape. The hold on her lifted and Dawn cradled her hang to her chest, falling to the ground at the woman's feet. Whimpering as the torment ceased.

The woman bared her teeth, a deranged smile on her face. "Tsk, tsk, I was beginning to like you Rentradie." Shouts sounded from the halls. Soon running footsteps and the cries of men and women rose from the courtyard.

What had Luke done!

"If only you had chosen the dead mage's log." The woman said and Dawn felt the bones in her hand snap. She howled in pain as white bone pierced through her skin.

"No! Please! Stop!" Dawn sobbed as the blinding pain began again. Footsteps from the hall grew closer and large doors opened behind her.

"What is happening in here!"

She spun around to see Arnoldus standing in the middle of his chambers, sword drawn and pointed at her.

"We are just having a little fun. Dawn here came into your chambers and wanted to know the truth." The woman explained, stepping around her to stand between her and the King. "But, unfortunately, she made the wrong choice."

"I was hoping you would learn your lesson and leave this castle." He walked closer. The woman hung back, watching as the King advanced on Dawn. "But you know what they say, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Especially, getting rid of pests like you."

He brought his sword down like an executioner. He still wore his heavy fur-lined cloak, the brocade vest peaking through as he raised his arms. But as the gleam of the King's ceremonial sword neared, she gripped the thin blade on her thigh. Turning the dagger in her hand, she plunged the blade into his foot. The sword landed a hairbreadth away from her neck as she crawled away, her mangled hand cradled to her chest.

She halted her struggle when she saw the grin on Arnoldus' face. He leaned down and withdrew the blade, the end was covered with blackened blood. He tossed the blade to the side, the metal sliding until it hit the wall.

"You didn't think I would fall victim to your tiny blades, did you?"

"My tiny blades should be enough for the likes of you, Arnoldus." She refused to address him as 'King'.

He threw his head back with full bodied laughter. "Even in death Remy seems to be the King the people fight for. But not for long, I erased him from The Lands before—I can do it again."

"How?"

That seemed to stop him. He rested his hand on the sword anchored into the wooden floor, where her head was meant to be. A manic grin appeared on his face. "'How?' Such a question was never asked. And I find myself inclined to answer."

"As your King," his grin grew, "I will grant you your dying wish and tell you how."

Arnoldus withdrew his sword and swung it in a lazy arch, rotating the hilt in his hand. "When Remy sat on the Golden Throne, people like me—humans—were nothing. It was all about the Fae and the mages. Those fucking mages." He growled, baring his teeth as he told his story. "Then I found out there was a way to get rid of them. Lock away their magic for good and wipe them from existence. And I did just that. I forged the lock and purged Ilaburn of the Fae. Once Remy and his Queen were dead I sat on the Golden Throne, saviour to the people. My only regret was I didn't kill his heir."

"His heir?"

Arnoldus smirked, "The Prince of The Lands." He raised his sword to her chin, the cool metal nudging her head upward the same way the woman had done.

"His name was Hunter. One of the last Fae wolves."

She felt her stomach drop and cold wash over her.

"Now that you know the truth,"Arnoldus stepped forward and grabbed her by her hair. He pulled her face toward his and said in a deathly whisper, "you will die a sad and pathetic death. Just like your King did."

Dawn struggled against his grip as he brought the edge of his sword to her neck. She struggled against his hold, the blade slicing her skin as she snarled, "You are a fraud! The Golden Throne does not belong to you!"

"But it is mine. And you cannot do a single thing to change that." He paused, savouring the moment. "Goodbye, Dawn Rentradie."

A/N Arnoldus is a sneaky little guy.