Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

ROLAND

Roland roared as he attacked but Anselm seemed to dance out of the way, defending himself with an agility which did him credit. Not attacking, Roland realised. He retreated to the door, performed some kind of artful pivot and suddenly he was on the other side of Roland, with the chancellor behind him.

She sank back into her seat by the window, watching the two of them as if their battle was some kind of spectacle put on for her amusement.

‘Grandmaster,’ Anselm pleaded. And well he should plead. He’d plead until Nightbreaker was buried in his heart. ‘Roland, please, listen to me. This is a trick, an enchantment. She isn’t whatever you think she is…she isn’t Elodie!’

The name was like a slap to the face with a wet cloth.

Her name.

Roland shied back, pulling a blow that should have taken Anselm’s head off if it had fallen true.

Elodie . He was here for Elodie . And this woman…this enchantress …

That same fuzzy-edged reality pressed in on him again. But at least Alouette wasn’t touching him this time. He struggled to find balance again, to bring himself back to truth.

‘Kill him, Roland. Kill him and then kneel at my feet and give me that sword,’ Alouette snarled, all the music in her voice twisted now into rage and command.

Roland locked his gaze on Anselm, begging him to understand. He had to understand.

Three steps. That was all it took. He lunged at Anselm and with one arm lashed the knight’s weapon from his hands. Anselm wouldn’t attack him, that was his problem. Not even when Roland was trying to kill him and that was the weakness the Grandmaster needed. Always exploit a weakness. Who had told him that? Old Pykeman, or Lavendyss maybe? Years ago. When your enemy shows you their weakness, you use it.

He grabbed Anselm by the throat and drove him back to the foot of Alouette’s chair, flinging him down onto his knees.

‘Beg her forgiveness,’ he told Anselm.

But Anselm, never one to beg for anything, didn’t say a word. He bowed his head only because he didn’t have any choice. Roland raised Nightbreaker on high, ready to bring its edge down on his neck and end him.

Behind them the door flew open so hard it almost twisted off the hinges. No doubt that magic was behind it but Olivier rushed in first. He faltered when he saw the scene before him. A host of witches and guards followed but Roland was still armed and dangerous. No one wanted to make a move or disturb the tableau before them.

‘Time’s up,’ said Alouette in a sing-song voice. ‘This entertainment is over and that sword is mine. The rest of you,’ she raised her voice to the people crowding in the doorway behind Olivier, ‘be about your business.’

No one moved.

‘Why?’ Anselm asked, his voice broken. ‘What good will Nightbreaker do you?’

She laughed, a merry, ringing sound. ‘You knights and your arrogance. You don’t even know your own history. There is a fragment of the Aurum locked in that sword. And now, as it all falls apart, as your queen slowly dies and the Aurum with her, it will be all that remains. It might even have been enough to draw her back if you hadn’t been rash enough to bring it here. You are so easily led, do you know that? The right words, from the right lips, at just the crucial moment.’

‘This is all part of a plot?’ Olivier gasped.

‘Well done, little witchkind knight. Oh, don’t think I can’t see it in you. You deny it and offer it up to your great light but the traces still show. Marked forever as witchkind. You can feel it, can’t you, coming back to you. As the Aurum fails the old magic stirs. You may have woken some of my devotees from their slumber, you and Vivienne, but it won’t last. I made this College mine, and we almost took Pelias. We would have if that stupid man had just done what he was told, and burned the queen.’

‘You were working with my father?’ Anselm murmured, still trying to tamp down helpless rage.

‘Your father?’ She laughed and Roland realised that she hadn’t even known who Anselm was before. She simply didn’t care. ‘Oh that is too amusing. Yes, the Earl of Sassone. He promised so much and delivered nothing. Only to be expected of a man, I suppose. Not that the girl was much better.’

‘Carlotta,’ Anselm growled. ‘Her name was Carlotta. And she was a friend.’

Alouette laughed at him, a vindictive, cruel laugh. ‘Well, you do have the strangest connections, Lord Tarryn. Or are you the Earl of Sassone now? Can Roland here strip you of your title as easily as he stripped you of knighthood?’ She sneered at him, and though Anselm gave no response, his shoulders were taut as a bow string. ‘The girl was a mistake, but she was no more than a tool. My sister should have been more direct from the start and she will pay for her shoddy craft. She was far too desperate to bring the Nox and the Aurum into conflict and thought killing one of the Ilanthian princelings would do that. Perhaps it should have, but oh, she does complicate matters.’

‘Were you behind all of it?’ Anselm asked.

‘Not just me.’

‘So you’re a traitor.’

‘A traitor? I swore no vows to your Aurum or your queen. No, nor to the Nox either. I never will. I live free. I will make the powers of the world my own, just as I have made the College mine.’

Anselm moved as if to rise, as if to attack, and Roland forced himself to press the blade against his neck until a line of blood appeared and Anselm froze.

‘You tried to kill Roland,’ Anselm said. ‘You sent the shadow kin after him. On the way here, and in Pelias too.’

‘I thought I needed him out of the way. Oh, but I am so pleased that they didn’t succeed now. Look at him. What a servant he will make for me. Together, we will deal with Pelias and Sidonia. We will release the ancient powers and make them ours, with that sword and the Sidonian crown. And when your bitch queen dies, you’ll all fall into line.’

Anselm sucked in a breath but didn’t seem to have a response. Roland held himself still as stone.

‘You have no place here,’ shouted one of the other witchkind.

Another voice joined them, and more. ‘Tobias showed us the truth.’

‘You tricked us all, seduced and bewitched?—’

‘Do you hear yourselves? Bewitched? Of course I did. It is our power. We should use it. That was the way of old magic and the right of the witchkind kings and queens of old. Of all of us. Grind these mundane fools into the dirt and rule, not hide and run or submit and be chained up in miserable holes like this.’

‘You are not going to entrap us again,’ Vivienne yelled. ‘We can see through you now. Enough of us?—’

Alouette snarled a few words of othertongue and Vivienne gave a cry, desperate and afraid. Roland heard her crumple to the ground but didn’t dare turn to see what had happened to her. ‘You need to learn your place too, it seems. Sneaking around behind my back, you and your co-conspirators. Little hedge witch charms and sly words…oh, I’ll be happy to teach you, Vivienne, and tear their names from your mind, but first…’ Suddenly all her attention was back on Roland like a crushing weight. ‘Roland de Silvius,’ her voice rippled with power and though he knew she was speaking othertongue to control him, he understood every word, ‘kill that worthless knight and give me Nightbreaker.’

‘I hope you’ve heard enough now,’ Anselm muttered darkly.

‘More than enough,’ Roland agreed.

Anselm rolled to one side and Roland swung the great sword of the Knights of the Aurum in a wide arc, a blur of light and death itself, burying it in Alouette’s body.

She slid to the ground, dead before she hit it.

Something shook the air, like a thread stretched too far until it snapped, and the whole College trembled, just for a moment. Then came gasps of alarm, dismay and bewilderment as Alouette’s remaining spells shattered.

Roland wiped the blade clean on one of the sumptuous throws and flung the fabric over her body. Then he reached out a hand to help a somewhat shaken Anselm to his feet. The knight held his hand for a moment too long, studying his face as if to ask a question Roland didn’t want to answer. Would he have killed him?

Light, he hoped not. Anselm clearly wasn’t sure, but granted Roland the benefit of the doubt. Anselm was as much like a son to him as Finn was. So he had to hope the boy was right.

‘You realise we could have asked her some questions?’ Olivier said as he reached them.

Roland shrugged. ‘But could we have trusted any of the answers?’