Oathbreaker: A Dark Fantasy Web Serial-Chapter 21Arc 6: : Battle of the Fulgurkeep (2)

As I stood and let Hendry tend to Emma, Vander saw me and marched closer. He was covered in blood, some of it his own from a shallow wound above his brow.

“Where have you been?” He demanded with barely controlled anger. “I expected you at court before…”

He bit off his words, glaring around at the scene. His gaze shifted to the figure at my side, still bagged and silent. His eyes narrowed. “Is that…”

“It’s a long story,” I interrupted him. “And there’s no time for it now. Who else is with you?”

Vander shook his head, his brow furrowing. “Ser Moonbrand from the Empress’s household, some members of Lord Oswald’s retinue, and about twenty palace guard. I’ve also got a handful of tourney knights and more than thirty non-combatants, including dignitaries and castle staff. Most of those we rescued on our way here. People are scattered around the whole fortress.”

“I saw auratic banners on the Empress’s Bastion,” I told him.

He nodded. “We came from there. The Emperor is alive. He sent me back into the main castle to gather as many survivors as I could and bring them to him. He’s directing a resistance, but we took losses when this all started.”

His voice darkened. “Heavy losses.”

“And the Empress? Her sons?”

“Unaccounted for. If she’s alive, I believe Her Grace is probably in the upper levels. They’re easier to defend, and this fog seems less thick up there for whatever damned reason. That’s where I ended up when we were all scattered.”

He fixed his attention on me. “Explain where you’ve been, Ser Alken.”

It took me a moment to grapple with everything that’d happened that night and muster the words to summarize. “I got the princess to surrender, but her pet demon interrupted us. It killed two of my men and turned on its mistress. She’s dead. I was badly injured and only woke up a short time ago. I believe Calerus must have known when his sister died, and that’s what triggered all of this.”

I waved at the scene.

Vander studied me. “You do not seem badly injured.”

I hesitated before settling for a half truth. “My clericon is a very talented healer.”

To my relief he decided to change the subject. “Calerus started acting manic while I was presenting witnesses to the court. Perhaps you’re right about what caused this.” He glanced at my prisoner. “Then who’s that?”

“Hyperia Vyke.”

He stared at me with a blank expression.

“She woke back up,” I said pointedly.

Vander’s face paled, telling me he understood my meaning. “Is she dangerous?”

“She probably will be before long. I need to get to Calerus. Do you have any idea where he is?”

Vander nodded and confirmed my suspicion. “Most of the enemy activity seems to concentrate around the throne room. The closer we get, the heavier resistance we meet. A thick fog blocks all the entrances, and no one I’ve sent in has come back out. We don’t have the numbers for a hard push, so I’m taking everyone I can and returning to the Emperor. If we retake this fortress, it will be with his leadership.”

Among the fighters who milled about the antechambers, I noted an aged man in ash-stained robes of state passing a water skin to a tired looking archer. I recognized Lord Desmond. “You found the Wake.”

Vander glanced at the fallen noble. “Yes. I’m keeping an eye on him, trust me.”

“You think he’s part of this coup?”

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Vander looked at me as though I’d grown a second head. “He’s a Wake. They’re traitors.”

I didn’t have the energy or interest in explaining to him that Alicia Wake had been the only real traitor in that family, or that Alder Knights distanced themselves from their Houses upon swearing their vows. Part of me wasn’t even sure Vander was wrong.

Besides, I suspected he knew our customs well enough and doubted he’d appreciate the reminder.

Vander noted my pensive expression. “What is it?”

I shook my head. “Calerus would have had all of you in his clutches. He could have sent every soldier away with his mist and kept the Emperor with him, to kill or use as a hostage. Why would he put him outside of the throne room and give him the chance to organize a resistance?”

Vander seemed troubled by the question. “It does seem ill considered, but I’ve reason to question the collective sanity of House Vyke.”

I wasn’t going to trust to madness to explain every action our enemy took, but I kept my silence.

He looked at the princess again. “What do you intend to do with that? It would be best to destroy it.”

Before I could answer, another commotion drew our attention. Through the settling dust, figures approached from further down the column-lined halls. I made out soldiers with well armored knights at the lead. As they drew closer and became more distinct in the poor light, I recognized a mixed retinue. Most wore white surcoats threaded with gold over pale armor, but some wore what looked like modified hunting coats of forester brown over their armor.

Hendry, as he drew up behind me, recognized those as well as I did. So did Emma, who was not quite leaning on him for support. Her lips pursed as the warriors of House Hunting made their appearance.

“Father,” Hendry said quietly. And sure enough, Brenner Hunting stepped through his men and regarded us from beneath furrowed brows.

But I didn’t think Brenner led that group. He only had perhaps half a dozen of his cavaliers with him. The gear the rest wore seemed familiar to me. That familiarity evolved into recognition when I noted their sigil — a golden crescent, like an incomplete halo or gilded moon.

At their front stood the lady Evangeline Ark. She wore her fine armor, but didn’t look much like the proud noblewoman who’d dominated the Coloss for the past two days. Her face practically vanished beneath a swath of bandages, only a few strands of yellow hair escaping to fall about her steel-clad shoulders. The one eye peeking through looked wide and bloodshot. It did not blink as it regarded us.

“Lady Evangeline!” Vander sighed in relief. “It is good to see you alive.”

She didn’t reply. Brenner wasn’t speaking either. When he noticed Hendry his face became even more stern. When he saw Emma, it became as stone.

“Son,” he greeted the young man at my side. When he glanced at me, his frown deepened. I couldn’t tell if he recognized me or not.

Vander kept his attention on the Lady Ark. “Evangeline, we’ve managed to gather in the Empress’s Bastion. His Grace lives.”

She nodded slowly, still regarding our group with that unblinking gaze. Her searching eye stopped, then narrowed. Her bandages shifted as a smile began to creep along her ruined face.

I followed the direction of her gaze and saw several yellow-coated soldiers surrounding a teenager who carried a sword but wore no steel. It took me a moment, and I remembered him mostly by his soldiers.

Randal Brightling. He’d been at my trial. I remembered him arguing with the woman standing across the floor from us, the other contender for the Bannerlands throne.

I started to get a bad feeling.

“My lady?” Vander asked, confused.

Evangeline returned her attention to Vander and spoke in an almost sweet voice. “Ah, my brave Lord Braeve.” She giggled at her own phrasing, a distinctly arhythmic sound. “The Empress’s Bastion, you say? So is the silver bitch still alive?”

The soldiers behind me shuffled in reaction, the room filling with the sound of plate mail clinking. Ser Moonbrand’s expression hardened. A weighty silence fell.

“…The Empress is still unaccounted for,” Vander said cautiously, his previous relief now retreated. “We are gathering as many swords as we can to retake the castle.”

Evangeline made an O with her cracked lips. “I see. And who is leading this heroic effort? Our good emperor? That ogre advisor of his?” She tilted her head to one side and grinned. “Or you, Vander? Do you desire a throne?”

“Vander…” I started to say in almost a whisper.

“I see it,” he hissed back without taking his eyes off Evangeline.

The Lady Ark’s sclera was a sickly shade of yellow, and her canines were long and sharp.

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“It is good to see you are not in much pain, my lady.” Vander impressed me with how calm he kept his voice. “I’d heard your injuries were… severe.”

The noblewoman shrugged and inspected fingernails I noted were sharp and curled like claws. “I got better.”

Randal hesitated, visibly steeled himself, then stepped out of the line and addressed the Lady Ark in a voice that carried only a slight tremor. “We have no time for games. You must join your force with ours and—”

Evangeline moved faster than wind, than thought. One moment she stood perhaps fifteen paces from the boy, then she was inches from him. Her lips split into a grin that revealed crimson gums.

“Poor Randal. Always so serious.”

Her clawed fingers dug into his neck, drawing blood and choking him. I was already moving, but I stood too far. There were shouts which didn’t quite drown out Evangeline’s next words.

“You were never going to be king, little Brightling.”

The vampire punched her fist into Randal Brightling’s chest and tore out his heart. She lifted it over her open mouth and squeezed it like a fruit, letting the ensuing rain drench her white surcoat and bright armor a deep red.

Everyone started moving at once. Soldiers were shouting, some preparing to defend themselves and others recoiling in horror. I noted that even Evangeline’s own men looked shocked, frozen at the sight of their monstrous lady standing over the butchered leader of her rival House.

Brenner stared with a grave expression, then his eyes hardened. He barked an order, and his soldiers lowered their spears and started to advance.

On us.

Vander stood closest to Evangeline and the dead lord. He advanced, swinging at her bandaged head with his mace. Her eyes flicked and she moved with that same lightning speed, ducking his blow and catching his hand by the wrist. Steel crumpled under her superhuman grip and Vander cried out in pain.

I reached her and chopped. Evangeline saw the gold-inlayed axe and hissed, her remaining eye going wide with fury. She hurled Vander into me, fouling my cut and nearly sending us both to the ground. I caught the man, got him behind me, but by then the transformed noblewoman was moving again.

This time, she held her own sword.

Evangeline Ark had not been a vampire when she’d fought in the Coloss, of that I felt certain. She’d been a master swordswoman, but didn’t move with the preternatural fury she displayed now. Her blade nearly took my eye. I got my axe up barely in time, forcing her weapon aside in a screeching cascade of sparks as metal ground together.

Fast and brutal as she was, I still had the advantage in size and weight. I forced her back, and before she could sally into another attack I wreathed Faen Orgis in aureflame. Evangeline’s eye widened.

I showed her the golden aura. “Whoever turned you must not have mentioned this, did they? Creatures like you don’t much like this fire.”

But the vampire didn’t react the way I expected. She didn’t balk or flinch, but instead shivered and breathed in as though catching an enticing scent. When she opened her eye again, it reflected the pale yellow glow of my magic.

“I can taste your pain,” she breathed. “Your hate. God, it’s like ambrosia.”

Around us, Evangeline’s knights had chosen to side with their lady despite her ghoulish transformation. They clashed with Vander’s men in an escalating melee. Shouts, clanging steel, and the unsettling music of Art echoed throughout the galleries.

Evangeline lowered herself into a half crouch, her white-and-gold cape falling around her arms like a saint’s burial shroud. Randal’s blood stained her face and darkened her garments around the shoulders. She lifted her slender sword and flashed pointed teeth.

When she moved, it was even faster than before. She showed no fear of the flame, throwing herself into my reach with a barrage of blows that toed the line between a duelist’s grace and animal ferocity. Twice her sword bypassed my guard and put shallow grooves into the hard steel protecting my shoulders and arms.

Too fast. Only a matter of time before she found a gap, or my unprotected head.

A shout broke through the din of battle and Vander, his weapon hand useless, tackled Evangeline. She didn’t go down, catching him and letting out a screech worthy of a banshee. But he forced her back and stopped her sword, trapping it under his arm.

“Take her!” He roared at me.

I didn’t hesitate, diving forward and swinging at her skull. Vander craned his neck to get his own head out of my way.

But Evangeline Ark didn’t fall under my axe. Instead, one of her knights got in the way and died instead as his helmet crumpled beneath Faen Orgis’s blade. His blood sprayed across my face, and his sacrifice gave the traitorous noble time to twist out of Vander’s grip and back into advancing ranks of her own warriors, glaring at us all the while.

Worse, mist was beginning to billow through the antechambers again. I had no doubt more Mistwalker ghouls would follow.

“We can’t let her get away!” Vander snarled.

The man couldn’t fight with the wrist of his sword hand broken, and the frustration clearly infuriated him. I searched the battlefield, more interested in getting us out alive than chasing the Ark. We outnumbered the enemy, but Evangeline’s knights were skilled.

Emma was helping Hendry with his lord father. The three were facing off a short distance away, my squire glaring through a mask of ash and dust. Hendry, on the other hand, wore a pained expression.

“What are you doing, father!?” He demanded.

Brenner held a war blade that was almost a twin to his son’s, and looked like a martial bear in full plate. “Choosing the winning side. We could be monarchs, son. This confederation of Markham’s was always doomed to fail.”

“Only because people like you keep trying to break it!” Hendry spat.

Brenner turned his attention away from his son, addressing Emma instead. “I don’t know how you got involved in all of this, girl, but it’s not too late. Come back with us. You and my son could inherit a kingdom.”

She didn’t even bother replying, instead just lifting her Carreon saber.

Brenner’s eyes hardened. “So be it.”

His left hand flashed with green light. Hendry’s eyes widened.

I lifted my glowing axe to hurl it and save the two from that attack, but movement in the corner of my eye distracted me. A Hunting knight thrust his spear at my eye, forcing me to backstep. Spinning, I took his leg out from under him, then swung down to finish him off.

It distracted me long enough for Brenner to finish his Art. He lifted his hand as the light formed into a luminescent spear. I remembered the weapon he’d carried in the battle against Jon Orley — it seemed he’d reawakened its image within himself since, reforging the broken weapon from his own aura.

He aimed at Emma. She tossed droplets of blood at him, but I knew in an instant she wasn’t close enough, wouldn’t be fast enough. Brenner threw the spear. It took on a bright emerald shine as it left his hand.

Hendry stepped between his father and Emma, and took the bolt directly in the center of his chest.

The black chainmail Irn Bale gave me at Caelfall shattered, iron rings flying in every direction as they broke around the point of impact. Hendry went flying back, my own red cloak rippling around his shoulders. Brenner’s eyes widened in horror.

Emma let out a scream that echoed throughout the chamber, ripped curled fingers up, and sent a cascade of crimson spears shooting up from the ground in a criss-crossing pattern. They took Brenner through his ribs, punching up into his armor and out his back. They lifted him nearly up to the ceiling, forcing his arms up in a crucified position and bending his neck.

He hung there, impaled, blood emerging from his lips and ears. He tried to say something, but nothing came out of his flooded lungs.

Brenner twitched a moment, then went still.

The Lord of House Hunting was no more.

Evangeline, safe in the midst of her own knights, saw her ally die and spat out a curse. “Fall back!” She shrieked at her men. “Retreat!”

There’d been more than a score of Ark knights when the battle started. Little more than half that formed ranks around their lady, shields raised as they retreated in tight formation. Evangeline’s sword lashed out like a serpent, slicing the neck of a Bairn dragoon who’d gotten too brave. She glared at us as the mist engulfed her men. Most of our own were unwilling to step into that thickening cloud, backing away as it obscured the traitors from view.

“Don’t chase them!” Vander barked at some who did try to take the offensive. “Unless you want to get dragged wherever they’re going.”

The Ark knights vanished into the darkness like wraiths, leaving plenty of their own dead and more of our own. Vander grimaced and leaned against a column, clutching the crumpled vambrace over his right wrist.

The clericons would have to tend to him. I joined Emma where she knelt by Hendry, a reverse of the earlier scene between the two. She hadn’t broken her concentration on her Art, leaving Brenner’s corpse suspended nearby.

Emma said nothing, and I couldn’t quite read her expression as she stared at Hendry. The boy was alive, but his chest was a mess. The iron rings of the elven armor I’d leant him were broken in a gap larger than my fist, and the flesh beneath looked blistered and raw. He was struggling to breathe.

“I didn’t know he could do that,” Hendry wheezed. “Is he…”

“Dead,” Emma said quietly.

Hendry closed his eyes. “Damn it. Why did he…”

“You know why,” Emma said. She might have sounded heartless to anyone else, but I saw the hard set to her jaw. Hendry didn’t respond. He didn’t seem mortally injured, likely thanks to the elven armor. And perhaps the other armor beneath his flesh. Whatever change was happening to the young man, it made him tough.

It didn’t soften my feelings towards the man who’d forced that change on him. I would say no prayers for Brenner Hunting.

I left them for the moment and walked to Vander. He scowled at the carnage.

“I gave away our plan to the enemy,” he said.

“You didn’t know they were traitors.”

"I don't understand what happened," Vander admitted. "Evangeline was a ghoul?"

"Vampire," I corrected. "Ghouls can't be made that fast, and I'm certain she was human earlier today. It must have happened after the clericons took her."

The implications of that visibly disturbed him. “I need to warn the Emperor,” he decided.

"I have another task," I said.

To my relief, he didn't interrogate further. “I’ll let any volunteers join you, but I’m going back. These bastards could launch an attack on the bastion any time.”

He turned and started giving orders to the survivors. Emma glanced at me as she started helping Hendry to his feet. “We’re going on?”

I nodded. “This has to end.” Remembering something else, I searched for Hyperia. She stood with the aged figure of Desmond Wake.

Muscles taut with tension, I approached them. “My lord,” I greeted the man. Perhaps it was my paranoia, but he’d seemed to be whispering to the princess. “You should stay away from that.”

Desmond met my eyes without apology. I noted he’d unsheathed a slim blade from his cane, and it had blood on it.

I nodded to it. “Is that the enemy’s?”

Desmond blinked, then glanced at the blood on his sword. With a small laugh he nodded. “I am not a traitor, Ser Headsman. Markham gave me a position on his council, and I take that post quite seriously.”

He cleaned the sword on his own robes, then sheathed it back into the cane. “I was keeping an eye on your… prisoner.” He glanced at Hyperia. “You were distracted by the melee, so it seemed prudent.”

Despite my instinctive distrust, I decided to be grateful. “Thank you.” I tilted my head towards the departing soldiers. “You should head back with these. They’re taking all of you to a safe place.”

“No place in this fortress will be safe until the coup is beaten,” Desmond Wake told me seriously. “But if my sword can be of some use despite the rust on it, then I shall go with the wounded.”

He moved to join the group gathering around Vander. I turned to the men who’d been ordered to stay with me, and found Ser Lochwine and Ser Ariel among them. Iren was going with the injured, so they were the only ones from the group who’d been with the Royal Steward left.

“Going after that bastard prince’s head?” Ariel asked me eagerly. She’d bloodied her sword during the fight, and her left arm practically crackled with electricity from all the fulgurscales she’d broken.

“It will be dangerous,” I warned the small group. There were less than a dozen of them. “Even suicide. You’ll probably make more of a difference joining Lord Vander.”

None of them budged. So be it.

“To the throne room, then.”