Remnant of Power

Chapter Fifty-two

Yavenna

Startled, she looked to see where the voice had come from. It was Gared; he grabbed her arm and pulled her after him towards the city walls.

"Follow me, quick, Yavenna, it doesn't look much like we're winning. We need to try to get Mal out. If we're defeated, at least we need to get him out of the castle. Come with me," he ordered, seeing the glazed look in her eyes.

Without replying, she fought her way after him through the cracked walls and along the almost deserted streets of the city. Most of the King's soldiers were outside on the plain. Yavenna followed Gared up the steps that led to the massive open doors of the castle until a familiar face made her stop in her tracks. Lady Rassten was standing on the threshold; her hands clutched to her ample chest, a panic-stricken expression on her face. As Yavenna and Gared approached her she started to shriek.

"No, no, I surrender. No, don't hurt me!" Yavenna lifted off her helm so the woman would recognise her.

"Oh my goodness gracious, what do you look like, Princess? You really must take more trouble with your appearance, I thought you were a man!"

"Lady Rassten." Yavenna half-nodded in acknowledgement. "It would probably be safer for you to go back into the castle."

"No, no, I don't think it would! I can't find anyone I know. I can't see my husband anywhere. I can't see His Majesty. Even Breanna has disappeared."

"Well, why don't you come with me and we'll see if we can find Sharva. I can't wait to see her. You could stay with her until the fighting's over. Quickly, come on."

A scornful expression flickered over the beautiful woman's face. "What do you mean? You won't find her anywhere, will you?"

"Why? Where is she?"

"Well, she isn't anywhere any more, is she? She's dead!" A brick plummeted to the bottom of Yavenna's stomach. Sharva couldn't be dead. She was safe here in the castle with Torrehon, Yavenna knew she was, that's why it had been alright to leave her. She hadn't left her anywhere dangerous, she'd only been about a mile from the city. The silly woman must be mistaken.

"She isn't dead! What do you mean?"

"She should've answered his questions, shouldn't she? She should've told him where you were."

"What do you mean? What questions? Told who?"

"The King of course! When you ran away, it was obvious that she knew where you'd gone, and she was simply protecting you! The King had Gildron ask her where you'd gone. When she didn't answer, he enchanted her. But I'm afraid she still didn't answer." The woman adjusted one of her large diamond earrings. "She should have told him; don't you think? Then she'd probably still be alive." Lady Rassten looked at Yavenna, as if surprised that the Princess wasn't replying. "You look shocked, Yavenna. But you know better than that. One person's life is nothing to a King, is it?

Yavenna's mouth dropped open. Sharva dead at the hands of the mage, on the King's orders? It was just too much. The steps started to sway beneath her feet and she closed her eyes. She saw her mother lying in bed, passing her the pendant. She saw Sharva lying on the ground, unconscious, because she, Yavenna, had left her. Yavenna started to tremble, uncontrollably. Blood rushed to her head, and a tide of nausea rolled up her throat. Coughing, she couldn't help but vomit her stomach contents all over the steps. Gared lifted her up, holding her under her arms.

"Look at me, Yavenna! Now! Stop! You must focus! We've got to get Mal. Quick; we might just find him in time to save his life." He carefully rotated her so she could see his face.

Yavenna gazed at him, her face white as snow; her eyes blank, showing no response. A spear sailed over her head and from the corner of his eyes Gared could see three soldiers running towards them.

"Yavenna, look at me." Her eyes were empty. He shook her shoulders. She didn't even blink. The soldiers were at the bottom at the steps.

He let go of one shoulder, gritted his teeth, and...slapped her cheek.

Yavenna blinked, then shook herself and gasped. She looked around, then looked at him as if it was the first time she'd seen him in a long while.

"You!" she yelled. "You've been waiting to do that to me, haven't you? You had to get your own back, didn't you, you pig?" Her gaze switched to the soldiers behind her. Gared thrust her a sword that he'd picked up from the floor, then drew his own. Powered by her fury, and his desperation, the two of them killed the soldiers.

"Yavenna," he put his hand up to her shoulder. "I slapped you to warn you. I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do." She glared at him, her eyes hard and cold as ice in a shadow.

"Look Yavenna, we've got to get Mal. It doesn't seem to be going very well for us. Ulric could win. We have to get Mal free. Quickly, come with me." He grabbed her hand and pulled her up the steps towards the open doors of the castle.

She followed without speaking, glancing back over her shoulder, and as she watched an Ithrim woman kill a soldier, her fury dissipated slightly. Gared was right. There were so many soldiers. It might only be a matter of time till the King's troops won. They had to get to Mal.

As Yavenna reached the entrance of the castle and remembered the last time she'd walked through it a cold tremor ran through her. The King. Where was he? Had he seen her? Was he watching out for her? Surely it was stupid to even risk going anywhere he might be. She pulled her hand free of Gared's and stood in the doorway. Unconsciously she put her hand to her neck, and touched the wound. It had almost healed. Already. She'd got it from fighting a man, a man who she'd killed. How many soldiers had she killed? She looked up at the second floor where her room had been. She wasn't who she thought she was when she was here. Perhaps she did have Ithrim blood, wouldn't that make sense? She was strong, very strong, perhaps even magically strong. If she saw the King she would fight him, not let him take her, or take control of her.

Gared grabbed her hand again, and pulled her into the castle. She held her sword out in front of her, but just before she stepped forward she had a sudden urge to turn back around to look at the dead soldier. And what she saw made her blood freeze in her veins.

The soldier lay still, not breathing - his chest flat. But as she watched him, Yavenna saw a breeze blow a swirl of bluish dust towards him. The swirl drifted over his body, from his feet, up over his legs and body, and then it seemed to almost stroke his head; soon he was covered in the fine blue powder, she could see it twinkling. As it slid over his face, the soldier's eyes opened, he yawned and pushed himself up into a sitting position. Then he stood up, looked around for a sword, and without hesitation, ran off into the city. Yavenna stared in appalled fascination.

Wondering why she wasn't following him, Gared tugged at her hand. But Yavenna couldn't stop staring. Soldiers who had been lying dead in the streets were getting up again. It was the blue dust! Her eyes tracked it, trying to trace its source, and as she looked at the roof of the castle, her heart almost exploded in her chest. Gildron the mage was standing on the roof of the castle, pale green hair gleaming in the sunlight. He held both arms up high, one clutching his staff. And clouds of twinkling blue dust were emanating from it.