From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [195]
She took a deep breath and took in his appearance. Wild blond hair and a familiar chin. “My, he resembles a young Sir Caleb.”
“Cortland is Sir Caleb’s nephew,” Sir Rigil said.
She looked to the young man’s face again. “Oh dear. Jax, will you help me?”
“I’ll do all I can, Vrell.”
Shung slowed his steps on the tower stairs. Doorway is around bend.
Duchess Amal? Achan called. Can you tell us who is atop the watchtower and where?
Certainly. Lord Nathak and Esek are looking over the edge of the tower. Sir Kenton is in the center on the roof, pacing about. And two guards stand by the doorway.
“Five against three,” Achan whispered to Shung and Bran. “Not my favorite odds.”
Five against five, Duchess Amal said. For you have me and Arman to help you.
Thank you, my lady. “Duchess Amal says we are even when we count her and Arman.”
“She is a wise woman,” Bran said.
I sense a great and dark power in Lord Nathak, the duchess said. I confess, I do not know how to fight the keliy. I am at a loss, Your Highness.
Can you storm the guards?
I can do that easily.
Start there. Then go after Sir Kenton. I wager he is the best swordsman of the three. Let us know when you succeed.
Achan relayed the plan to Shung and Bran. He kept his gaze fixed on Shung’s face, which was focused up the stairwell. Arman, help me know what to do.
A hot flash gripped Achan’s body. Arman did not speak, but his warmth instilled a confidence Achan had been lacking. Thank You, Arman.
A sword clattered down the curved whitestone steps. I have stormed the guards, Your Highness, Duchess Amal said, but Sir Kenton is protected by Lord Nathak’s dark magic. I know not how to help there. Arman be with you.
Then we will have to defeat him with steel. Thank you for trying, my lady. Achan pushed against Shung’s shoulder. “Now.”
Shung ran up the final steps. Achan darted through the doorway behind Shung and out onto the circular whitestone roof. His legs quavered as the tower vibrated under his steps and he sensed how high up they were. A waist-high whitestone parapet circled the edge. Icy wind whirled around him and seemed to slow all movement. It chilled the surface of his skin but did not penetrate, for Arman’s heat inside him acted as a shield. A tangle of gowzals swarmed overhead, squawking and flapping in the wind.
Just as the duchess had said, Sir Kenton stood in the middle of the roof. Lord Nathak and Esek were at the battlement’s edge. Bran ran toward Sir Kenton, and they clashed swords. Achan and Shung circled the duel, headed toward Esek and Lord Nathak, who no longer wore a leather mask over half his face. Who no longer had half white hair and beard. Who now had two working eyes.
“I should have known.” Esek flashed a cocksure smile Achan’s way. “Your brother is looking well, don’t you think? Uncle? At least now I understand why he kept you alive.”
Achan held up Ôwr and looked from Esek to Lord Nathak. “The keliy healed you both. But why did it wait so long to heal you, Lord Nathak?”
“Jibhal and Macoun’s method of keeping me in my place all these years. They are dead now, and I am the Hadad.” Lord Nathak lifted his hands to the sides. “Machmâd pârar.”
Six green streams of light shot out from his palms, igniting bonfires evenly spaced around the roof’s perimeter. The fires died down, leaving a Lord Nathak in each place.
Six Lord Nathaks in addition to the real one still standing beside Esek.
Achan and Shung turned their backs to each other, swords outstretched to the multiple Lord Nathaks. In the roof’s center, Bran and Sir Kenton continued their duel, their blades clashing in an erratic rhythm.
My lady, can you help us? Achan asked.
They are but apparitions, Your Highness. I can only pray Arman’s protection on you.
Achan blew out a long breath. They were on their own. We eagerly request your prayers then, my lady.
You shall have them, Your Highness.
“My coming to your procession was a mistake,” the original Lord Nathak said. “If only I’d known that