chapter Twenty Three
Traitors and Tyrants
If the sky looked dark and haunted, it was nothing compared to Morzaun's expression as he watched Kieran and Arnan close the distance between them. Eramus's heart pounded so hard he thought it might break through his flesh. Having more people in Morzaun's path of destruction was the last thing he wanted. Why had Kieran and Arnan come to the meadow? Regardless, he needed an excuse to send them back to the village; their lives depended on it.
Eramus rose and brushed the grass from his trousers just as the two brothers came to a halt in front of them. Kieran's eyes darted between Zeeran and Morzaun before finally landing on Eramus. His gaze spoke without words, silently asking him if anything was amiss, but Eramus couldn't answer that question, at least not without risking the safety of the two men.
When Eramus offered no response, Kieran turned to Morzaun. "Forgive the intrusion. We've come to speak to Eramus, but I'm afraid we haven't made your acquaintance."
He spoke with all the courtesy of a gentleman, but suspicion lay hidden in his tone. Would Morzaun recognize it? How would he respond if he did? Kieran and Arnan were quick-tempered on the best of days, and Morzaun wouldn’t take kindly to threats. The entire situation could explode with a single word. That wouldn’t bode well for any of them, especially for those without magical abilities.
"Pleasantries are unnecessary," answered Morzaun, his expression stoic and his tone even. "We won't be here long enough for them to matter."
Kieran's eyes narrowed. "I'd prefer to know whom I'm speaking with regardless of how long you intend to stay. From what I gathered when we entered the meadow, the three of you seemed engaged in quite the tussle. Of course, Eramus knows if he is in need of assistance, there are plenty in the village more than willing to offer it."
A small nod and a wink were meant to ease Eramus's concerns, but they did the opposite. He didn't want Kieran or Arnan involved with Morzaun. The man was dangerous, and Zeeran's lack of obedience to his commands made him like a stick of dynamite, ready to explode with one wrong movement.
Morzaun scoffed. "Offer him assistance? I didn't see anyone offering him anything but banishment when he revealed his powers." He turned to face Arnan. "A banishment suggested by you, if I'm not mistaken."
"People often fear the unknown and that which they don't understand," said Kieran. "I know I speak for both of us when I say we regret the response to Eramus's abilities. He deserved better, and he's proven himself an honorable man time and again."
Morzaun smiled, but it wasn’t the cheerful kind. The people of Izarden had cast his father out when Sytal marked him as a traitor, despite having done nothing to deserve those claims. That one act had pushed his father down a dark path, and Eramus guessed Morzaun had lost trust in humanity. As genuine as Eramus knew Kieran’s words to be, his father would never accept them.
"How kind of you to admit your mistake." Morzaun folded his arms. "Please, don't let us keep you from speaking with my son. Your message must be important to bring you out here in this"—his eyes moved skyward—"impending inclement weather."
Kieran's eyes rounded,and Eramus winced. At one time, he'd longed to know his family and fill in the missing pages of his past, but nothing could have prepared him for the truth. Claiming Morzaun as his father meant accepting a murder's blood flowed through his veins. If it were up to Eramus, he would sever all ties with the man and never look back.
"We don't have time for this," said Arnan, his voice almost a growl.
Kieran shook his head, as if the maneuver would clear his mind. "Eramus, the army of Izarden was spotted just east of the village. Hundreds of soldiers march towards the meadow as we speak."
Eramus's heart jumped into his throat. "The army…King Delran is here?"
Arnan's brows pinched together, and he averted his gaze. "Yes."
"They've come for you," said Morzaun. "Delran seeks his revenge. He won't hesitate to put every man in that army in danger to get it. He won't care if the village and everyone in it suffers the consequences. Come with us, Eramus. It's the only way to keep them safe."
"Enough! I won't join you! I can stop his army and protect them. Delran stands no chance against magic. He's a fool to attempt such a thing."
Morzaun stepped towards him and pressed a finger into his chest. "You'rea fool if you think you can handle them by yourself."
"This coming from the man who faced them on his own before? Who murdered thousands?"
"My magic was far stronger than yours will ever be. Mine was not the result of inheritance but came directly from the Virgàm itself, a pure exchange of magical energy that you could never match. I faced the army of Izarden alone, but as someone far better equipped than you."
"What of the others?" asked Kieran. "Your aunt and uncle would surely help protect us. Delran's army could not stand against the three of you."
Morzaun smirked, and Eramus's stomach twisted. "So, theyarestill here? How amusing."
Zeeran's expression suggested he was anything but amused. "We should go. Let them deal with Delran. This isn't our fight."
Morzaun and Zeeran broke into an argument, but Eramus hardly heard a word of it. His thoughts muddled together, processing the fact that the army of Izarden had arrived at his doorstep. But how? He'd hid from Delran, albeit unknowingly, for over a decade. How had the man discovered his whereabouts now? When Morzaun confessed to hiring the mercenaries, the notion that the king had sent spies to watch him had faded. Now he reconsidered the idea.
"I just don't understand how he found me," he muttered.
His words silenced Morzaun and Zeeran. “I’d like to know that as well,” said his father. “I’ve gone to great measures to keep knowledge of your power contained to this village, and I don’t see how word could have reached him.”
Eramus decided he didn't want to know what his father meant by “great measures.”
