The Tenets in the Tattoos (The King's Swordsman Book 1)

by Becky James

  They led me below. Deep under the mountain was the Academy, but beneath the castle itself were hot springs that fed the baths and flowed into the King’s Lake. I had never been here before, and the cloying heat pressed down on me. Within heartbeats, my clothes were soaked through with a mixture of sweat and humidity. Gavain led and Barlay walked beside me, the contingent of soldiers not far behind. They must have been suffering in their clanking armour, but they stopped not far in and waited in a semi-circle. Blocking the exit.

  As we walked through the mists, four shapes resolved. First I saw Torgund. The king, I reminded myself as I saluted him. His cold eyes watched me approach with disinterest.

  The second was Evyn. She recognised me at the same time, and we shared a joyous smile. I quickly assessed her as afraid but whole. Next to her was Prince Rogan, deep blue eyes red-rimmed and lips tight. He had his hand on her shoulder, and I nodded to him in thanks.

  The last turned out to be Aubin, the King’s Apothecarist. I frowned at that. He folded his arms across his chest, looking extremely bored.

  “Thorrn, halt,” Barlay ordered. I did so, saluting again for good measure. “This is the site of your trial. Gods’ luck.”

  Torgund spoke then. His brow beaded with sweat from the hot air, and his chest sounded as tight as mine in the heat. “Usually, aspiring members of the elite corps are given a choice. They line up a member of the royal family, in this case Prince Rogan, and your soul companion. They are far enough apart that you cannot rescue both. Then they threaten to push them into the boiling water you see around you.” Torgund gestured.

  I swallowed at the roiling waters steaming angrily. My hands were stinging from the heat; whoever hit the water would be badly scalded.

  Torgund chuckled. “It is a trick, of course. The water appears to be boiling at this exact spot, but it is merely pleasantly warm. As well, the souls are usually put to sleep to spare them the distress of seeing their soul choose other than them. It also probably makes the choice easier for recruits. Hence the presence here of our apothecarist.

  “We will not do this charade today.” He jerked his head at Gavain. My friend had brought my chains from the dungeon, and he fitted them around Evyn’s wrists. Fear lapped the edges of my lungs, the way the water slapped the jagged edges of the pool. The long chain links were heavy, and when Gavain set them down, Evyn’s arms dropped sharply.

  “You will push her into the water,” Torgund ordered. I caught my breath. Rogan and Aubin went still, Rogan gaping at the manacles on Evyn’s wrists.

  Evyn gave me a shaky smile as I approached, putting my hands on her shoulders and guiding her backwards to the water’s edge. Now. If I shoved, she would tumble and fall and sink under the water. My arms trembled. I reached down and grabbed hold of her hand, hard.

  I couldn’t do it.

  “On three,” Evyn whispered. “One, two—” Taking a deep breath, she flung her shoulders back and let herself overbalance to plummet into the water. She sank instantly, her small form coming to rest at the bottom. It was not deep water, I estimated it would come up to my chest, but the manacles dragged her down. I could make out that she was putting her feet underneath herself and trying to stand, to jump up, but the loops of chain were too heavy for her.

  I turned and saluted Torgund. “As ordered, Your Majesty.”

  “Good,” he said. He stared at me with his flat, heartless gaze.

  My heart started to slow with dread. “Sir. If I may—”

  “Be silent.”

  Rogan said, “Uncle, what about getting Evyn back out? She cannot swim herself, the chains are too heavy.”

  “Who said anything about getting her out?” Torgund said.

  I nearly turned and plunged into the water after her except for what Evyn had said: stick it out. Whatever the test consisted of wouldn’t kill us.

  This was the real test. I had to obey my king and wait for his instruction.

  Even as my soul drowned at my feet.

  I set my stance, facing Torgund and wiping my face of all emotion. I tried to ignore Rogan’s slowly panicking face staring behind me. Even Aubin looked less bored, looking into the water and back at me, then back at Evyn.

  I could feel it. The headache starting to build. Torgund stared at me impassively. I met his eyes, hoping he couldn’t read the panic in mine, the dread, the creeping certainty…

  I held myself still. Breathe. Breathe in and out. Except Evyn couldn’t breathe and her lungs were burning with need and soon she would not be able to help herself and she would—

  “That’s enough,” Rogan cried. “Uncle, that’s enough!”

  I fell to my knees. Fealty, Gavain had said. “My lord, please,” I choked, barely coherent.

  Torgund’s words were biting when he asked, “What is she to me? What possible use can the soul of a soldier be to me? What good is she?”

  I did not hear the ritual nature of his words. Instead my heart screamed, She’s Evyn! She’s clever and funny and smart and brave and strong and dying – she’s dying, and what would a king have a use for, what quality of hers would mean that Torgund kept her alive –

  “She’s an Earthian!” I shouted. “She has Earthian blood!”

  Rogan flinched, and Torgund saw the truth in what Rogan knew. “An Earthian?” The new king’s eyes brightened in his sallow skin.

  Aubin frowned. Barlay and Gavain turned confused looks to one another.

  “Please, I beg of you, she’s Earthian, let her live!” I shouted.

  “Get her up,” Torgund ordered.

  I leapt into the water, Barlay and Gavain jumping after me, all three of us heaving my soul up into the air. “Evyn!” I screamed. My head was in a vice. Evyn’s lips were blue, her eyes half-lidded.

  “Get her over here! I can attend her!” Aubin shouted. Wrenching Evyn out of the other men’s arms, I flung myself towards Aubin. The wall of water between us seemed impenetrable, but I managed to throw her onto the side. Aubin caught her, assessing her breathing, quick fingers feeling for a pulse.

  “An Earthian,” Torgund repeated, staring at my soul. “Is this true? Nephew?” Rogan coloured and shot me a deadly look. “So, it is true,” Torgund breathed. He licked his lips, his eyes never leaving my soul.

  I hauled myself out of the water as Aubin pumped his arms against her chest. “Put breaths in her mouth, Shardsson. She’s not breathing for herself.” Placing my lips against hers to seal them, I pushed breath after breath into her mouth until suddenly she heaved. She vomited up a stream of water, coughing, before falling back in my arms. I curved myself over my soul, water dripping onto her slack face.

  We had passed, but at what cost.

  “You idiot,” Aubin hissed. His lips barely moved. “He only wanted a declaration of your loyalty, that you would do anything if he let your soul live. Instead, you offered her up as a gift!”

  “What?” Pushing her hair back from her face I tried to look into her eyes. She blinked slowly, but her gaze could not seem to focus on me.

  “An Earthian, a soul worthy of the king. I can be immune to magic.” Torgund clapped his hands, making us all jump. “Take her. We will arrange for soul swappers, and we will be souls by nightfall.”

  Gavain approached me from behind, boots loud on the stone floor. “Thorrn. Give her to me.”

  Chapter 10

  My breath came fast, my ears ringing. My soul lay unconscious in my arms, and I pulled her close to my chest. The calm of battle surrounded me, ready to take me. Gavain would have to pry her away from me, and I would not make it an easy fight.

  “Release her at once. You will of course be matched with someone more suiting to your station,” Torgund said in the tones of one offering a supreme gift.

  This was my soul! She was mine! My breath quickened further. I balled my fists. Torgund could not have her, she was mine! “No—” I began.

  Aubin backhanded me across the face, the blow so hard my head snapped to one side.

  “Think about
who is there, Shardsson,” he said in a flat voice. “Think about the protection you are offering your king.”

  I blinked, looking down into Evyn’s slack face, cradling her against my tight chest and my rapidly beating heart. Our rapidly beating heart, for she was the other half of my spirit. Getting up slowly, my chest tight, I turned to Gavain and handed her to him. “Be careful. Watch her head.” My voice broke. I mastered it.

  Turning away from her, I saluted the king.

  “Good. Very good. Loyal indeed. Who knows, perhaps you will be made sergeant before too long, just like your friend here.” Torgund’s smirk twisted his face, and he nodded toward Gavain. Gavain did not meet my eyes, staring at the floor between us.

  My gaze fell to Evyn’s long straggles of hair, my heartbeat rocking my body. Gavain moved off with my soul; everything screamed within me to chase him down and take her back. Rogan and Torgund walked alongside him, Torgund peering into my soul’s face, murmuring, “She’s nothing to look at, but what does that matter? I’ll have to think of a suitable arrangement. Immunity to magic. Excellent.” Aubin followed, holding her wrist dangling lifelessly behind Gavain.

  “Thorrn.” Barlay touched my shoulder, and I jolted. “You are to be congratulated. Today you are worthy of the red. Now, let’s get you to a healer mancer. What hit you, lad, a horse?”

  I stayed silent, numb, watching my soul be taken away from me.

  Barlay cleared his throat. “For what it’s worth… your father would have been proud of the dedication to duty you have shown.”

  I could not catch my breath in the hot air. I had given my soul to my father’s murderer. It would make him invulnerable to magic and strengthen him.

  What would happen to Evyn? The men here would have to be sworn to secrecy. What would Torgund do to keep her safe from mages and mancers? At least she had the full resources of the castle at her disposal. She would have the library all to herself.

  And… could I hope to be her bodyguard? At once that was too painful and just what I wanted. To be near her. To not be able to hold her. To talk with her. To not be able to feel what she was feeling.

  Barlay led me out of the swirling mists and out into the open air. Shard’s body swayed from the gibbet, an eerie creak filling the empty courtyard. I stared at the hands that had held mine as a child. The knee that I had sat on. The legs that had run alongside mine until I was fast enough to surpass him to his resounding cheers…

  “Come away. Come and get your reds on,” Barlay said, his hand on my shoulder again. He squeezed. The touch left many words unsaid, words we could never say as Special Forces.

  The barracks was empty. I wouldn’t have made coherent conversation with anyone anyhow. Changing into my fresh, crisp red uniform, I sank onto the end of my bed. Not three days ago I had slept here, in the barracks, as I had nearly every night of my life that I could remember. How everything had changed. I had found my soul companion. Lost her by driving her away. Found her again and won her over. Bonded with her. Lost my father and her mother. Been incarcerated. And now this. Now finally I was fully Special Forces, but at the cost of my soul.

  My stomach twisted.

  “Captain, reporting for duty.”

  Barlay looked up from my father’s desk. It had already been cleared off. Shard kept paperwork at a minimal volume and meticulously filed away, but even his personal effects were gone. I didn’t know where. “You can have a day for healing. Take the rest of it off.”

  “With respect, sir, I want to be useful. Busy.”

  “Go for a walk, Thorrn.” Not Shardsson. Thorrn. He was careful not to use my fathername so as not to draw attention to my connection with a traitor.

  Aubin had used my fathername. He had wanted me to remember who I was and where I came from.

  “Very well, sir.” I saluted, and then I went out on the hunt.

  Aubin was an apothecarist. He had a shop in the Academy that I knew of, but he was often in and around the castle with clients. One of his main clients was clearly the king, and he was entrusted to contribute to the tests for Special Forces. He must have other clients who knew of his whereabouts. My interest could be explained simply enough: I sought healing for my bruises. My broken arm hid under the long sleeves of my uniform, but my cheek still smarted, no doubt a colourful specimen. No medimancer would heal that, so seeking out bruswurt was an acceptable thing for a swordsman to do.

  I was deciding who to target when I turned into the gallery and nearly ran into the man himself. “There you are!” he said, voice low. “We’re alone here, but walk with me toward the Academy. Pretend you’re asking for bruswurt, which, by the way, would help bring out that shiner threatening on your cheekbone.”

  Too stunned to speak, I made an about-turn and followed Aubin out.

  Aubin was a head shorter than me, with the striking amber eye colour of the Oberrotian merchant class but the darker skin tone of a southerner. His steps were light and he held himself alert, like a fighter. He was always acutely aware of his surroundings and the politics of any situation. Given that he ministered to the great and the good, that was to be expected. I always had the sense he was winning any interaction we had, which was odd, because I did not normally think of a conversation as a battle, but with Aubin it always seemed to be.

  He kept his voice pitched low as we walked out of the castle gates and over the gravel path. “He’s had me drug her with somnus root, but Earthians are utterly unaffected by that. I know because I looked it up quickly, along with other things to keep in mind. However, he’s put a quiescent collar on her, and he’s having the Last Tower unsealed. He’s going to lock her up in there with a heavy guard.”

  “How long for?” I asked in a whisper.

  Aubin shook his head. “Forever.”

  I halted in my tracks. “He’s going to imprison her for the rest of her life?” But of course he would, I realised bitterly. If he locked her out of the way, he would never have to worry about her safety. Or rather, how her safety impacted him. My heart cried out in pain.

  “Indeed,” Aubin said. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

  I looked him in the eye. “You called me Shardsson, and you stopped me from denying Torgund. You wanted me to realise something in there. What was it you wanted to tell me?”

  “That it wasn’t the time to oppose him, not with multitudes of guards littering the place. Maybe your plan was to frustrate his ambitions as a lackey working on the inside. I helped you see your goals clearly and adhere to that.” Aubin leant forward. “And then there’s the fact that your soul companion is an Earthian.”

  “Shh!” I hissed, looking around. Fortunately, the training ground was deserted.

  “Oh, now we’re keeping it secret?” Aubin snorted. “Idiot. It was bound to come out of you, Thorrn. He only had to threaten her once, and you blabbed it. Although perhaps it wouldn’t matter. The heartbeat you became immune to magic, Torgund would have your head and take Evyn for his own anyway.”

  “I thought he was going to let her die,” I said, screwing my fists closed.

  “For all I know, maybe he would. He’s just bad enough.” Aubin stalked away toward the gates to the city.

  I followed him, certainty rising with every step away from the looming walls of the castle behind us. “What I am going to do … is get her out of there, before the soul swappers come and the guard is fully set up.”

  “What an inspired idea,” he said drily. “Break into a tower designed to keep the royal family safe in the event of a last stand in a siege, drag a half-conscious girl out and escape with her into the city.”

  “I just need to get her to ground level.” I waved at the stones on the path we crunched over. “Evyn will do the rest.”

  Aubin’s lips twitched. “Ah. I see. Slightly more doable.” His fingers flexed as if they itched to hold something. “You’re going to need support. Someone who has just seen the layout of the Last Tower. Someone who can help her recover faster so she can function.”
/>
  “Are you volunteering?”

  “Selling my services.” Aubin halted, pretending to study my cheek by turning my jaw this way and that. “The price is blood.”

  I drew up my fists into a guard, pushing his hands off. “What? Evyn’s blood? No!”

  “Not a lot, certainly not enough to even slow her down. Just enough to help my soul companion in her ambition.”

  “Wait, who is your soul?”

  “Tuniel, the Journey Mage of Stone. You would only know of her if you had lands with underground workings or quarries. She is a powerful mage. I wonder what she could do with Earthian blood.”

  “Never!” I took a step back, balling my fists.

  Aubin shrugged. “Gods’ luck getting her out of the tower without me then. Perhaps your friends Gavain and Aleric would help.”

  I seethed. I couldn’t ask them to betray the king. It was against the core tenets of Special Forces. “You are willing to commit treason for this?” I asked him.

  “Many times over. Especially against Torgund.” He walked faster. “First we need to get you healed. I can tell you’re injured. Did they beat you in the cell?”

  “Actually, I fought seven men and survived impact with a terrible Earthian beast called a car.”

  “What a hero. You’re half-dead and in no shape to fight. Luckily, I know a medimancer who is more than decent and knows how to keep his mouth shut.”

  I followed Aubin toward the stairs to the Academy, leaving the castle grounds via the main gate. I was so focused that I had forgotten to prepare for it, so I startled when I came face to face with my father’s head.

  I baulked. It faced away from me, but his wiry white hair waved in the breeze.

  “Come on,” Aubin said brusquely. “You can’t help him. You can help Evyn, but we are running out of opportunity. The king has ordered soul swappers to come with all haste.”

  The soul swappers would cut our bond and reforge a new one between Evyn and Torgund. Our bond pulsed with a dim fire; Evyn was very weak. “She’s awake, I think.”