Chapter 42

CHAPTER 42

ROLAND

What had happened to Yvain? He would never have surrendered the city, surely? Roland had trusted his old friend in that one thing above all else, his loyalty to the Aurum, to their duty, their people. But Pelias had been given over to Leander…

Roland couldn’t focus on the shock of the news which was only part of what was making his head swim. He still felt as if only part of him belonged in the world, as if he had been dragged back by the scruff of his neck. Olivier looked wrung out, and these newfound powers didn’t seem to have done him any favours. And yet, he was aglow from within, as if something which had been integral to him had not just been restored but amplified. The thought that for all these years knights had been forced to give up something so vital in service of the Aurum, despite the strategic advantage it might have given them, made no sense at all. Roland didn’t know why, that was the worst thing. He was supposed to be the Grandmaster of the Knights of the Aurum and even he didn’t know.

The change in Finn was no more comforting. The Aurum filled him like a Paladin under an Aurum-raised beacon all the time. It glowed beneath his skin, illuminating him like a lantern, bright and beautiful.

With nightfall, they armoured themselves – Finn wearing that black armour once more despite the light now coursing through him – and followed Anselm through the secret ways of House Tarryn into the city. Roland had always known that the Tarryn family had their own paths they could use, that they had ruled the lower city for generations and made it their own. Now, he realised it had gone much further than anyone had known. It was only a grace that until Anselm’s father they had been loyal to the crown and that Anselm had rejected such treachery.

Anger simmered beneath Anselm’s skin like the light beneath Olivier’s. Roland supposed that he was the Earl of Sassone now, but no one had said it out loud except for Alouette and that had been a taunt. Sassone had betrayed them all and no one would want to take on that title, especially not now. Roland would have to watch Anselm, he realised. The young knight still wanted to prove himself loyal and that could drive him to anything.

But as Earl of Sassone, he was bound to defend Pelias. And Pelias, his city, was devastated.

His concern for Olivier’s transformation was only part of it.

As they moved to part ways, Roland held his shoulders and fixed him with a stern look. ‘Nothing stupid, Anselm. Find the knights, and free them. We will need every man we can get.’

Anselm frowned but then nodded slowly. ‘Yes, Grandmaster.’

He really ought to correct him. That wasn’t his title, not anymore.

He wasn’t sure what he was now. But his people needed him. And so did Elodie and Wren.

‘Finn?’ he prompted as the other two left. ‘We’re heading for the palace. Are you going to be—’ He wasn’t sure what he was asking. All right? Himself? Able to control the Aurum inside him? Perhaps all of it. His brother was in Sacrum and surely the need to revenge himself on Leander was powerful. And the magic in his body would want to attack the Nox. When the Aurum descended on the knights in battle, Roland knew there was no control available, barely any conscious thought. It was the need for battle, the desire to destroy their enemies. The Aurum was all.

It had brought them all to their knees when Elodie last wielded it, and when she lost control of it he had thought they would burn.

And Finn had not been raised as its chosen. The Aurum had picked him because of Wren. And it might destroy him just to get to her, especially if Wren had lost her battle with the Nox.

‘We must find the queen and Wren,’ said Finn solemnly. ‘Get them to safety. Everything else is secondary. I know my duty, Roland. My brother can wait.’

Roland only hoped that the Aurum agreed.

The lower city was eerily quiet, far worse than when Sassone had kidnapped Elodie and the knights had ridden to her rescue. Now there was no sign of anyone, and nothing moved. If there was still anyone hiding here, they were hiding well and not planning on stirring abroad if they could help it. The city gates had been shattered. Houses along the main road were little more than blackened ruins now. But there was a sense of being watched as they passed, even while making their way to the palace along secret ways. While Olivier and Anselm headed for the prisons where Anselm had learned the knights were being kept, Roland and Finn found themselves alone in the square where the palace deliveries were normally inspected.

There were bodies scattered everywhere. Roland stopped, taking in the scene, assessing it with caution. Some were his knights, some city guards, but far more of them were civilians. Mostly men, but a number of women as well. Far too many. Makeshift weapons lay scattered about, alongside swords, axes and pikes. They had tried to defend their homes.

‘How long ago?’ Finn asked, his voice unexpectedly shaken.

‘Four or five days, perhaps. Not long after we left the College.’

‘And no one moved the bodies? No one came for their dead?’ He sounded startled, and it made Roland wonder again who he was talking to. Finn knew things like this happened in war. He knew the methods the Ilanthians used, but perhaps the Aurum did not. It was all about the glory of battle. The aftermath…it had nothing to do with that, did it? So how much of the man with him was still Finnian Ward?

Roland winced. ‘It’s a message to everyone else. And trying to take the bodies would just mean more death. Come, we can’t do anything else here.’

Elodie and Wren. They were all that mattered right now. Without the two of them, Leander had no leverage here. That was what the logical part of his brain was saying anyway.

They accessed the narrow passageway which led them through the cellars and up towards the kitchens, encountering no one on the way. The echoing silence continued, the people scarce. There were no servants and no guards and everything felt wrong.

So very wrong.

Pelias had never been this quiet. It grated on his every nerve.

It didn’t last and when they heard the approaching patrol it was almost a relief. Swords in hand, they waited.

The Ilanthians were laughing about something that had happened with a servant, their tone cruel and mocking. Roland steeled himself.

‘Should have just let us have their bitch queen,’ the first one scoffed. ‘But they had to be all noble. Not so noble now, are they?’

‘Maybe, but the king said no. Everyone else is fair game but not her. Said he owes her.’

That produced a filthy-sounding chuckle. ‘Oh really? Owes her what?’

Roland glanced at Finn, whose eyes were blazing again, his mouth the same hard line as Roland’s. He nodded.

Everything became a blur of movement as the Aurum roared through Roland’s veins. With Finn so close, opening himself to its power was effortless. Not that the Ilanthians would have stood a chance anyway. They were just grunts really, half drunk on the power of conquest and stupid with it. Roland grabbed the leader by the throat and slammed him back against the wall, while Finn took care of the rest. He moved like a dancer, his sword a line of light. Moments later, six bodies lay sprawled on the floor of the corridor.

And when they were all dead, Finn still moved, looking for someone else to fight, someone else to kill. He lunged towards the last Ilanthian who shrank back from him in horror, almost ready to hide behind Roland.

‘Your highness! Prince Finnian!’

Finn froze, staring at the man, his expression a hostile mask.

‘Stand down, Finn,’ Roland barked, and training won out, for which there were not enough prayers of thanks in the world.

‘What…what happened to him?’ the guard stammered.

Roland lifted his eyebrow. ‘You invaded his home.’

‘But he…he’s one of us.’

‘I’m really not. I never was,’ Finn snarled. ‘You all made sure of that.’

Roland turned on their prisoner. ‘Where are they keeping the queen?’