Alaric folded his arms. "A technicality, Jacquelis. You know as well as I that Leilavin used the Shama as a foil to thwart me. I will not let some floundering novice deter my destiny for the sake of a mere bond. What is given can be taken away, something I know very well. And Nyori Sharlin will learn the same very soon."
"Then send the Blood Legion as Serona suggested. They are capable enough to overcome the pitiful Circle of Sha that protects the Shama. Allow Serona to go in your stead, or myself if you simply must overcompensate on supervision. But do not be foolish enough to walk into what could be a cunning trap."
Alaric narrowed his eyes. "What makes you believe a snare might await me?"
Jacquelis spoke with the tone of a born lecturer. "You are focused entirely on the wrong thing. You yearn so strongly for Eymunder, all the while ignoring the fact that the Blueshift Ring took the Shama to Everfell and Leilavin's aid at the most crucial moment."
"A mistake I plan to correct."
Jacquelis gazed imperiously at him. "Yet not for a moment do you wonder who it was that activated the Eye in the first place. Who it was that struck at you with perfect timing, ruining all you had fought and sacrificed for."
Despite his impatience, Alaric mulled over her words. "You're suggesting that an unknown enemy schemes against me. Someone would dare to pit their power against mine own."
"An unknown enemy with knowledge of the Eye, the Blueshift Rings, and Everfell. An enemy who manipulated events perfectly, for reasons we cannot fathom. Tread carefully, Alaric. You would have considered this yourself, had you not been so withdrawn and obsessed with finding this girl."
Alaric's face heated. "I have not been idle while an Age has passed, Jacquelis. You accuse me of obsession? I admit it freely. My every thought has been focused on our salvation, the deliverance of our people. I have studied every scrap of information on the fusorbs, particularly the Geods."
The fervor in his voice rose when he turned to her. "You know of them as well as I. Six alpha fusorbs far more powerful than any others. The orb atop Eymunder is one of them, a Geod of near inexhaustible Elemental and Aetheric energies. Powerful enough to augment one's abilities a thousandfold." He paused, voice dropping to a near whisper. "Powerful enough to cure our people of this curse."
"An unproven theory, at best an earnest hope," Jacquelis said. "And one fraught with danger. You know of what the Geods were used for and why they were hidden away." She gave him a meaningful stare. "And even should you be able to somehow strip the Shama of her bond, what then? Our condition is irreversible, Leilavin assured us of that. We have only your word that this fusorb can provide a cure."
Alaric met her gaze evenly. "And is my word not good enough, Jacquelis?"
Her lips thinned, but she grudgingly dipped her head in acquiescence. "Your word has always been good, milord. I pray it shall continue to be so." When she raised her eyes, her face hardened in resolve once more. "But I still insist you send the Legion. The risk is too great, the situation too perilous for you to expose yourself. The very appearance of a Geod will alter events, tempting even the most dedicated to consider its power, quickly turning allies to enemies. I ask only one thing of you: not to destroy us in your haste to usher in our deliverance."
Alaric felt Serona's eyes upon him, waiting for his decision. He heard her softly exhaled relief when the words reluctantly dragged out. "Your advice is sound as always, Jacquelis. I will heed it. Inform Captain Sithe that the Legion is to sack Halladen immediately. He will show no mercy until Eymunder is reclaimed. Spare Nyori Sharlin unless the situation necessitates otherwise. It will be better if she is delivered to me alive."
Jacquelis bowed. "It will be as you say, milord." She swept away, satisfaction radiating from her every stride.
He remained with Serona. "Since I am to be useless in this undertaking, I would prefer to be alone, Serona."
"Is my company so unbearable?" Her eyes were liquid pools of lavender, pulling at his soul.
"No." He caught her hand and raised it to his lips. "Never. I simply cannot bear to wait. After all this time, to have Eymunder so close to being in my grasp again…" His jaw clenched tightly. "It is almost excruciating to sit still and not act. Every fiber in my being tells me to be away, leading my men in this raid."
"That is exactly what our enemy would want for you to do. Leilavin has always been crafty. Don't underestimate what she would do to be rid of you, her ancient foe."
"Her adversary is Stygan." Alaric crouched into a sitting position once again. "We are but the pawns manipulated into their conflict."
"Leilavin has not been seen or heard of since you last saw her in Everfell. What if some other hand manipulates the Shama?"
"All will be revealed in time," Alaric said. "We must push our agents. Contact the Speakers of the Sects, find out all that they know."
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before slowly exhaling. His rapidly beating heart reduced its rate, his adrenaline slowly dissipated, allowing his mind to focus on nothing. He floated in the eye of the storm, not even noticing when Serona departed. Jacquelis, Leilavin, even Eymunder slowly faded from his thoughts. Yet a pair of hazel eyes refused to be banished; a beautiful young face gazed at him, fearful yet resolute.
Do you feel it, Nyori? My eye that blinks from the sky's expanse and my fingers drifting on the wind that touches your skin? Does your feeble sense of clairvoyance tell you how little time you have left?
Unable to focus, he at last stood and walked to the rounded window, gazing beyond the gardened grounds, beyond the blanket of clouds that smothered the sky. She was out there, with Eymunder in her possession. He supposed the Shama was confused, afraid perhaps. Would she try to fight? Run and hide? It did not matter. There was no refuge to harbor her, no champion to protect her. Alaric would not allow it. It had been too long, the cost too high. All that mattered was capturing Nyori Sharlin.
And very soon, he would have her.
Chapter 6: Marcellus
Death and glory.
The words whispered across Marcellus' mind, unspoken prophecy born the moment he wielded a sword. Death was inevitable for the warrior, but glory was a desire, a fervent longing to continue beyond one's lifetime. A chance at immortality, to join the small company of men and women in the halls of heroes, hallowed in the minds and hearts of those left behind.
As he beheld the scene of madness below, he knew with sudden clarity that he gazed at the time of his glory. An odd sense of calm accompanied the thought. How many warriors have had the same thought before they went to their doom? He had seen it in the eyes of many — the distant, slightly unsettling gaze he knew his eyes displayed.
Shadowdancer stamped impatiently, but Marcellus steadied him with his knees and stroked his muscular neck with a leather-gloved hand. "Easy. You'll soon get your chance." The stallion snorted but ceased his antics. Marcellus wished he shared Shadowdancer's eagerness. The truth is I would rather be anywhere else than here.
His viewpoint was atop a tall hill, sparsely decorated with a few lonely trees stripped naked by autumn's passing. He surveyed the chaos through a leather-wrapped spyglass. Far enough to look like toy figures, the valley below was packed with thousands of men in the heat of a brutal battle. Thick smoke roiled upwards from burning pitch, wagons, and chariots. Screams of men dying and the clash of weapons drifted upward as he took in what had become all too familiar a sight.