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

by Becky James

  “I don’t think it was happiness exactly,” said Evyn gently. “It was that perfection. Having your dream come true then taken away must be really hard.”

  “Evyn, it’s just a dream,” I said.

  “Mm. Think about when you first met me. Your dream had been shattered and the perfect fantasy was no more, and instead you had to reconcile yourself to harsh reality.”

  Staring at the package I held, I said, “Back then I was stupid, enmeshed in an impossible fantasy world. Now I wouldn’t give this up for anything.”

  “What, being chased and hurt, hit by cars, dodging magic and stuff?” Evyn’s nose wrinkled, streaked with dirt.

  “That’s just part of it,” alt-Aubin remarked.

  “Indeed, that’s not all of it,” I assured her.

  “Life is exciting, I guess.” Evyn blew out her cheeks, tugging at her tangled locks. “Too exciting lately. Back to the library with me.”

  “Did someone say library?” alt-Evyn asked longingly from behind us.

  We made better time than we had on our mad dash down. With two Tuniels mapping the area and moving any stone that needed to be shifted, we reached the surface in two turns of the glass. Utter exhaustion reared its head. The adrenaline had faded, and it was all I could do to keep on my feet. Evyn pushed on, never asking for a halt. I did not like the drawn pallor to her cheeks; she had lost a great deal of blood and would be ill for a time. I refrained from offering to carry her while she clearly wanted to press on to protect her pride, but I made sure she drank water regularly.

  Gaining the upper levels, Tuniel had to find a keystone that would unlock into the Palais. “Ready?” she asked us.

  “Ready for bed, maybe,” I replied, but I straightened up and held the package containing Waker’s head in both hands. “MasterMage, I stand at your side.”

  She rolled her eyes, pressed the keystone, and we clattered into a corridor in the Palais. I looked up and down for some kind of guard presence, freezing at a shout. “Stop where you are!”

  To their credit, the Palais Guard merely surrounded us silently rather than attacking immediately. Tuniel stepped forward with her predecessor’s head held aloft. This was studied intently by the guards, who then dropped their stances and saluted. “MasterMage. Welcome.”

  Some functionaries came to assist Tuniel with the necessary administration for change of office. While she was doing that, we were politely but firmly escorted to a sunroom which captured much of the remaining daylight.

  I practically threw myself into the chair, putting my arms around Evyn when she collapsed next to me. “I am going to sleep for a sennight.”

  “Where’s Mum? Is she here?”

  My heart skipped a beat. “I’ve been remiss, Evyn, I’m sorry. You, guard, release Lady Rose at once. Get Tuniel MasterMage to approve the order if you need to.”

  He stayed impassive. I sighed. “I have no rank here.”

  “Or anywhere else.” I tensed as Gavain strode in through the doors. “Special Forces to me. Arrest them,” he ordered.

  I stood up, groaning as I drew my sword. “I only needed a moment of peace.”

  For a wonder, the Palais guards formed up between us. “Desist, soldier. These are guests of the MasterMage,” the highest ranking one told Gavain.

  Gavain snarled at being called a mere soldier, punching his arm toward me. “Those are traitors to the crown. Criminals! They are to be executed by order of the king.”

  I did not relax quite yet, holding my sword ready, but pleased the Palais guard stood between me and Gavain. I would probably have won a fight, but I had to admit it would be a near thing. “There’ll be a new king soon. Wait for the news to get around the lodestones,” I said.

  “He spoke treason! Put him in chains immediately!” Gavain roared.

  There was a thunderous detonation in the arena sands outside, tables and chairs trembling in the sunroom. Pacing over, I peered out of the windows.

  Gadamere dusted himself off in the sands. With him stood Ellesmere and… “There. See. He’s come for his soul.” I flopped back in my chair.

  “What?” Gavain stared at the black-haired figure striding with purpose toward the Palais. “Is that…?”

  “King Gough has returned, the true king of Oberrot. Stand down, Special Forces.” I put my arm over my eyes. Evyn yawned and sat close to me, threading her arm through mine. Smiling, I lay back, my hand on hers.

  Tuniel MasterMage went out to greet the king. King Gough immediately asked for and was granted the safe return of his soul companion Rose, and relations were restored to a healthy balance. I knew none of this at the time; I fell immediately asleep.

  I was woken when someone tried to move Evyn away from me. Snarling awake, I reached for my blade.

  “Peace, Shardsson,” King Gough said.

  Desisting immediately, I rasped, “Your Majesty.” I blinked through the exhaustion, feeling as if someone had thrown sand in my face.

  Rose hugged her daughter; it was she who had disturbed us, and Evyn woke up enough to be partly excited. The alts had also fallen asleep, but alt-Evyn and alt-Thorrn woke up, alt-Evyn with tears in her eyes. Rose motioned to her to come over, and all three embraced together.

  Saluting, I moved to stand, trying to hide a grimace of pain from my liege. Every muscle screamed with soreness.

  Gough looked hale and well, if a bit pale. The frown on his stern face eased slightly. “Sit, Shardsson, before you fall down. I’ll want a full report, but not now. Now you will get food, baths, rest, whatever you need in whatever order you need it.”

  “Thank you, sir.” My dry mouth crackled. “Sir, what about Special Forces here?”

  He drew himself up. “There is a contingent posted here by the usurper. My orders are for their detention for now. I will review their actions and determine each man’s merit on the core tenets of following orders.” He frowned. “Is there something I should know about them?”

  “Gavain. Was he apprehended?”

  Gough gestured. Across the border made by the Palais guards, the men beyond were being disarmed, Gavain among them. He saw we were both looking at him, his mouth dropping open. “I followed orders. I followed the orders given to me!” One of the Palais guards took his arm. “What are you going to do to me?” I was gratified to hear a note of panic.

  “Shardsson?” Gough asked me.

  Here was another crossroads. I stared down each of its paths, thinking I was far too tired to make any kind of judgement.

  But one path spoke to me clearly.

  Smiling at Gavain, I gave him a jaunty wave. “I can think of a few things. Hang around for now.”

  Gavain paled as he was led away.

  I cleared my throat. “Sorry, Your Majesty. Couldn’t resist. I support your review.”

  A half-smile crossed the king’s face before he became solemn again. “I am deeply saddened by the loss of Shard. Rest assured that his name will be restored and his remains returned to your family with the utmost respect.”

  There was only one response to that. Despite my body screaming its protest, I went down on one knee. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  He rested his hand lightly on my head. “No, Shardsson. I should be thanking you.”

  We were shown to rooms by Palais functionaries. “Where’s Luc?” Evyn yawned.

  “The mancer left. As an allied subject of the MasterMage rather than a guest, it is his right,” the servant explained.

  “And I didn’t even say goodbye,” I said, feigning hurt.

  “He would want to go back to his soul,” Evyn replied.

  We ate. We bathed. We collapsed onto our beds. And I have never had such a deep and dreamless sleep.

  It was not the morning or the afternoon but the evening when we awoke. I woke up to the sort of muscle stiffness I knew would take days to ease and make stairs my bitter enemy. Evyn was even slower to wake.

  We only ventured out in search of food. We were shown to a large dining room where we wer
e served good fare. I devoured as much of it as I could eat. The alts came in ones and twos, with alt-Aubin first, then alt-Evyn and Thorrn and finally alt-Tuniel.

  “The first few days of being MasterMage are intense,” alt-Tuniel commented when we noted whether Tuniel would join us.

  “Then it is well she had that nap when she did.” I glanced around at the obvious missing face at our table. “How fares Aubin? Anyone seen him around?”

  Evyn said, “Tuniel will know where he is. And whether or not he’s up for visitors.”

  “Mm. Part of me wants to keep a watch on him for his own safety.”

  “He’s not under any illusions anymore. He isn’t trying to get back to his family; he’s not desperate or acting out of a sense of trying to save somebody,” she pointed out.

  “That’s everyone else’s safety.”

  Evyn went a bit paler. With the blood loss, she was already far too pale as it was. “Let’s go find him.”

  We asked a servant to bring us into Tuniel’s presence. He offered to send her a note and she would return a suitable time and place to meet. I offered to break his arm. Evyn told me off for abusing the staff and I apologised to the servant, but he got the thrust of our urgency and took us to Tuniel’s new offices.

  “Aubin. Aubin is… Aubin.” Tuniel folded her arms, looking out the wide windows. “He’s left already.”

  “Left? Left to go where? In the desert?” Evyn gaped.

  “He can take care of himself. He needs open spaces to think in, to let his thoughts unspool from deep within him and flow out so he can see them and express them safely without others nearby. I need solitude and the containment of the earth; he needs the solitude and the openness of the sky.” She flushed.

  “You’re sure he’s not a danger to himself?” I asked her bluntly.

  She scowled. “I’m sure. He’ll return. I know he will.” She nodded to Evyn.

  Evyn’s lips trembled. “Alright. I can give him time.”

  I hugged her. It was fresh now, but I also knew she would do well, whatever happened. She had me, after all.

  “How goes the installation as MasterMage?” I asked Tuniel.

  She chuckled. “Fast in some ways, slow in others. My affinity to stone is an advantage. Patience is rewarded, and a long-term view is favoured in the materials I work.”

  “I can think of no one better to reforge the Accords. Pun intended.” I grinned at her. I was gratified to see a fresh shade of pink grace her cheeks. “After all, you’ve come to learn not all mundanes are brutish oafs, but dashing… what was it again?”

  “I’ve decided you are exasperating.” Tuniel’s smile was warm, especially against the flush in her face.

  “I’ll settle for that.”

  I was rewarded with a laugh.

  That night, the alts made their farewells. “Come back for more training,” I told alt-Thorrn. “We haven’t even really begun.” He nodded. “I mean it. If your Special Forces won’t train you, I will. It will be hard, though, so if I don’t see you again, I know that means you don’t feel you’re up to it.”

  He scowled at me, making a face at his Evyn.

  “Yes. We’ll be back,” alt-Evyn said with a smile.

  I folded her in my arms. “Lady alt-Evyn. Farewell and go well. Until we meet again.” She kissed me on the cheek.

  Alt-Thorrn approached my Evyn hesitantly. She was equally shy, twisting her fingers. “Thanks for saving me from Rhona. I really appreciate it,” she whispered.

  “Of course. You’re my soul… across all the worlds.” He opened his arms.

  She smiled as she hugged him. “Wow, your shoulders are huge.”

  “Gah, get out of here! You’re making me feel inadequate!” I roared.

  I saluted alt-Tuniel and alt-Aubin, and then their Evyn opened a door and they were away.

  “Well. That was crazy,” Evyn said.

  “Indeed.” I looked at the spot where they had vanished, feeling they must have been a dream; still, their presence lingered, as real as the air I breathed. “I’m certain we’ll see them again, though.”

  Epilogue

  I waited.

  The suitably secluded corridor had slightly more passers-by today as the preparations for the Midsummer festival were underway. I kept up a steady guard, certain anyone who saw me might wonder why I’d been posted to a corner, but also that they were too busy to question me.

  The ping-through spot opened and alt-Evyn and alt-Thorrn came through hand in hand. “Hi, Thorrn,” alt-Evyn greeted me. “Evyn in the usual spot?”

  Smiling, I said, “I think she’s helping to hang decorations, actually. She and Lady Rose are in the main hall.”

  Squeezing my hand, she left to join them, with a wink to her Thorrn.

  “How’s that going?” I asked my alt.

  “She’s… forming a new relationship with your Evyn’s mother. The Rose in our history didn’t raise her and she’s… well.” He looked downcast. “It’s hard on my Evyn, really hard. But rewarding.”

  “I can’t see any harm really. Evyn’s mother is her mother, across all the worlds.” I slapped his shoulder. “Ready for today?”

  “Always. What are we covering?”

  I smiled. The trainees had got used to seeing an older man among them – and one that looked like me at that. Alt-Thorrn gave his all in the lessons that he should have had by rights from his youth. He was a quick study under my excellent tutelage, of course.

  “I have something a little different today. Come with me,” I told him.

  We moved toward the Remembrance Hall, against the flow of the crowd. It had taken me a while to clear this with the Lorekeeper. In the end, Ellesmere had had to explain who alt-Thorrn was and to certify he was an alternative version of me. Given that, I could then convince him that what I wanted to do was not out of the ordinary.

  Sylvia passed us on the way in a carefully contrived accidental visit. “Hello little brother,” she greeted me, putting her arms around my neck. The hug was not something I did every day with my sister, but today was important. “How are you faring?”

  “Very well.” I nodded to alt-Thorrn. “You’ve seen him around, I’d wager.”

  “Yes, enough that I want to introduce myself. Sylvia Shardsdotter. It is a delight to meet you, Thorrn Shardsson.” She inclined her head, holding her hand out for him to take and bow over.

  Alt-Thorrn was locked in place. I knew that on his world, Sylvia had been killed as a child. Underneath the thick mop of hair, his eyes stared, jaw clenched.

  “That’s probably enough for right now,” I said when he made no further move. “We can get to know each other over time.”

  “Of course. But as it is Midsummer, I would like to give my baby brother a hug. If you would receive one, that is.”

  That hadn’t been planned and I drew air between my teeth. Alt-Thorrn might not be ready for such a step. But he took a pace forward and held out his trembling hands.

  “Thank you.” She squeezed his forearms. “I look forward to seeing you another time.”

  Alt-Thorrn had to take a few breaths, and I waited at the side of the corridor to let him do so. “They’re all here, you know,” I told him quietly. “Mother. Istadella. Roasche. Bran. They have watched you from afar a few times. They would like to meet you when you’re ready.” I brushed off my shoulders, over the new sergeant epaulettes. “It depends on you. I know you’re not an exhibit at a museum or a float to parade. You’re here to train with me. If you’d like to meet them, even do what alt-Evyn is doing with Lady Rose here, you’d be welcome to.”

  His wide eyes met mine, then cut away. “They’re your family,” he said roughly.

  “They’re our family,” I corrected. “You’re their son, nephew, and brother across all worlds.” Slinging my arm around his wide shoulders I grinned at him. He startled, but let me remain. “I’m sorry if that was a shock. The next one is bigger, I promise you.” He gave me a wide-eyed look.

  I led him tow
ard the Remembrance Hall, where bodies of the men and women in service were laid out. It was filled with those in Special Forces who had stood up against injustice despite the tenets they swore. I saluted toward them, but pulled alt-Thorrn into the Lorekeeper’s domain, a small dark room off the side of the corridor lit with only a fitful glowstone and the Lorekeeper’s cigar.

  The Lorekeeper looked from one to the other of us. A gruff man written over with inks he had trialled on himself; it took a great deal to shock him. “Bloody hell. Hm. Very well,” he grunted, stubbing out his smoke.

  “We just want the one set of identification tattoos,” I reminded him. “Our histories are a little different. They don’t have your station on theirs.”

  “No? What do they do in the event of a hideous rout? Send the boys back in a job lot of boxes?” the Lorekeeper accused alt-Thorrn.

  “I-I-I don’t know.”

  “They don’t ever suffer grievous losses.” I smiled to cover it. The Lorekeeper snorted.

  Facing alt-Thorrn, I said, “So this is what can happen, if you want it. Queen Ellesmere has certified to the Lorekeeper that you’re another version of me. He will reapply my entry to the regiment and my promotion to Special Forces, as well as the distinction badge created for the campaign you played a key part in. That was designed by yours truly.”

  “And it’s a mess,” the Lorekeeper grunted.

  “It’s really symbolic.”

  “It’s really shambolic. Far too obvious. And what are these two things on fire here?”

  “If you can’t tell what they are, then it’s clearly symbolic and not obvious at all.” I turned back to Thorrn. “If your Special Forces won’t initiate you, then I will. It will mean something to the people who see it here. And to your Forces back home, well, it won’t mean anything to them, but who cares what they think?”