The Fall of Kyrace Read Free Page B

mouth thinned. “If only the Archon had listened to you…”
    “Then none of this would have happened,” said Rykon. If Tyndaros had overruled Mathanius, and allowed Rykon to wed Agia, then Mathanius would have been humiliated. He would not have been bold enough to attempt to seize the Archon’s chair by force, and he would not have turned to the Empire of Nighmar for aid once treachery failed. 
    “None of it,” whispered Agia.
    “That is in the past, my love,” said Rykon. “We must go. There are ships waiting in the harbor. We must reach them before…”
    “Before justice is done?” said a deep voice.
    Rykon spun, pushing Agia behind him, his sword raised.
    A man in the gray-green robe of a stormdancer stood on the other side of the reflecting pool, sword in hand. A black cloak emblazoned with a golden Imperial eagle hung from his shoulders. Silver streaked his black hair, and his lips twitched with amusement.
    “Mathanius,” said Rykon. 
    “Traitor,” spat Agia. “What are you doing here?”
    “For your own good, little sister,” said Mathanius, striding around the edge of the pool. “Soon the Legions will break the inner gate, and the city shall be sacked. The men shall be slain, the women raped and sold into slavery. As you are my sister, I would spare you that.” His lip twisted with contempt. “Instead, you seem to prefer the company of this fool.”
    “He did not betray his people to destruction and slavery!” said Agia.
    Mathanius snorted. “Don’t be trite, girl. The Empire has eight times the population and territory of every Kyracian city, combined. Sooner or later we will be conquered. Better to join with the Empire on our own terms. Once Kyrace falls and the idiot Tyndaros is dead, I will be made Imperial governor over the Kyracian cities, and I will lead our people to new glory.” He smiled. “And the Emperor is old. Perhaps I will take his place upon the Imperial throne.” 
    “Or,” said Rykon, “the Emperor will have you killed, now that your usefulness has ended.” 
    Mathanius's smile faltered, just for a moment. "You speak of things above your understanding."
    "Treachery," said Rykon, "is not so difficult to understand. Nor is jealousy."
    "Jealousy?" said Mathanius. "It was my family that should have sat upon the Archon's throne." He shook his head, lifting his sword. A blade of storm-forged steel, similar to Rykon's. "And you had the temerity, the gall to ask for my sister's hand in marriage. Don't you understand? She belongs to me, and I shall decide her husband. Just as Kyrace belongs to me, and I shall decide..."
    He struck in midsentence, his blade blurring with lethal speed. Among all the stormdancers of Kyrace, Lord Mathanius had ever been the fastest and the strongest. But Rykon saw the attack coming, and drew upon his own air sorcery. Mathanius's blade rebounded from his parry, and Rykon struck back, sword stabbing for the older man's heart. Mathanius slapped the sword aside and danced back. 
    "Brother!" shouted Agia. "Stop this! You have already stained your hands with treachery and murder! Do not soil them further with the blood of my beloved!" 
    "Be silent, Agia," said Mathanius, the point of his sword tracing lazy circles in the air. "And you, Rykon. Do you really think to fight me? I took up the blade and cast my first spell long before you were born. I slew my first man in a duel at the age of eleven. You cannot possibly defeat me." 
    "Perhaps not," said Rykon, calling lightning into his sword. The blue light fell over the Tower's top, brighter than the stars, brighter than the fires devouring the city below. "But I may yet keep you from reigning as a puppet over our enslaved people, murderer and coward."
    A spasm of fury crossed Mathanius's face, and he sprang forward with a roar of fury, his sword spitting lightning.
    The blades met and met again, a score of times in half as many heartbeats. Rykon drove at Mathanius with every ounce of strength he