Tides of Fate

by Sean J Leith

  “Father, this is ridiculous. You can’t expect me to marry someone because you will it. I refuse!”

  The King turned a harsh eye toward his daughter. “You will do what you are told, girl. Marrying the Soldier of Storms should be an honor. Just think of what the people would see. That’s my ruling—marry, or nothing. No Spire, no aid.” Kovos’s tone was gruff and hoarse. “Girl, you have denied many suitors over the years, for nothing. Each sir was as good as the last.”

  “No. They were weak, demeaning, and overbearing. I won’t be treated like a child.”

  “You are a child. You killed Lord Shilen’s son when he tried to court you.” Kovos said, gripping the wood of his chair.

  That surprised Saul. Not only did she refuse suitors she was displeased with but killed one—Saul was not unsettled by it, but intrigued.

  “He tried to force himself on me. I had no choice. The wretch deserved the spike I shoved through his chest. I’m of nineteen years! How could you be so thick?” Thalia slammed the arm of her chair, leaning into him.

  “And I have tried to marry you since twelve. A woman of your age is undesirable.” A long, silent, and vicious glare was shared between them.

  Saul saw no other option. The King seemed to be a difficult and unrelenting individual, unreasonable and irrational. Saul could see that age brought a coarse resistance to all around him.

  But he did not think of it as an unfortunate option or choice. Thalia was oddly beautiful, but most importantly tough. She played a smart political game. While outwardly resistant, she followed his rule thus far, and stayed the only child in favor. However, her treatment of suitors was quite against the King’s ruling.

  A spike through the chest? Although, forcing one into such things deserved punishment. Only a disgrace of a Broken would force a woman into bed. A welcomed courting is an honor, and a forced one is pathetic and weak, Saul thought. He did like her boldness.

  She’d killed a man for a disgrace, as he would have. It made her more endearing, if anything. Saul listened quietly, watching her azure-slit eyes grow harsh. He could tell her tone was sincere, but her anger was toward the King, not him. Saul felt they were more similar than he originally thought.

  He acclimatized toward her since they met, and now he looked upon her with respect and interest.

  After a harsh silence, the King scoffed and spoke out. “Lords run from the idea of marrying you. They hiss rumors of you eating the Lordlings when they come near, and now they’re all afraid. I am the King, girl. I have to be unmoving, else I’m seen as weak. Do you want our family to be overthrown? Word is the fools in Renalia have that issue now. It has made them weak, and soon we may return in strength.”

  Thalia leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “We won’t be overthrown. Make me Queen and I’ll make sure our nation grows.”

  Kovos coughed loudly, letting out a weak but hearty laugh. “A sole Queen? Don’t make me laugh. No woman will sit on my throne as long as I live. Then we would be overthrown for certain. You’re a small, immature girl who knows nothing of power. You wreak havoc with your rocks, but true power lies in words. If I were to die, I would have Chorra hold the throne until you marry.”

  It’s a combination of both tools. A King with a sword in hand is better than either alone, Saul pondered. He finally clued in to what was being said. If you climb the Spire and claim the blade, you shall marry my daughter. That would make Saul the heir to the throne, but he didn’t care for a crown, or a prophetic title. He truly cared for his honor, his people, and the realm. Kovos didn’t like Saul, he felt. But it was politics that drove the old snake’s words. He saw the benefit of a unity of prophecy and royalty. While Kovos was an unlikable man, he wasn’t stupid. It was logical.

  “Lord Chorra is a stand-in puppet for you. Don’t you dare insult my power. You were worse than me at my age,” Thalia shot back.

  “Yet I married for politics after Ithaca was born. Fancy that.”

  Thalia exploded out of her chair. “You can’t force us into marriage!”

  “I’m not forcing, girl. I’m telling. If he seeks the blade, swear to marry if he can claim it. You’re aware that he may be cooked?”

  Thalia turned around, her hair and robe swishing in a circle. “I’m aware,” her voice grew brittle. Thalia pursed her full lips and clenched her fists.

  People have married for politics for ages, and that’s only if I survive. My dreams have plagued me for months, and I have grown tired from restless sleep. No matter my fate, I will choose my destiny here, Saul determined to himself.

  He still struggled with the thought. He would potentially marry the race he was told was his mortal enemy. Yet every inclination showed the opposite from her. Choose your people for their ideals, Thalia had said to him. Her words were straight and honest, but everything seemed like a bit of game to her.

  She jested at many things, but Saul knew that’s all they were. Jests were not disrespectful mockery. She was as bold as he, and something about her pulled him to speak. He felt it necessary, and his choice was from more than just convenience.

  “Thalia.” Saul broke his silence.

  She turned her face toward him, narrowing her eyes. “You’ve been quiet for once. What do you want?”

  Saul stood up. I must do it not for destiny, but for myself. I see strength in her, a boldness I respect. He held out his hand to her. “Would you marry me, if I take the blade?” He barely believed the words would ever escape his lips. If it was purely for the blade, he wouldn’t dare think to ask such a thing. But it wasn’t just for the blade. Something else pressed him.

  Thalia’s mouth dropped open. She gasped and leaned back. She closed and opened her mouth time again, as if her words were lost. “You’re serious?” she stuttered. Her eyes shot left and right, raising a brow. “I thought you disliked our people, Lord ‘high and mighty, I am strong?’”

  “I dislike weak people.” Saul replied. Is that what I sound like?

  “She’s a weak girl. Don’t be a fool, boy. Don’t make me change my mind,” Kovos scoffed.

  Saul ignored the King’s comment. His eyes didn’t wander from Thalia’s. As he waited for her words, he gave a subtle smile. Hand still outstretched, he waited for an answer.

  Her lips trembled slightly, extending to a curious smile. There was a long pause as they stared into each other’s eyes. Saul could see her processing the situation. He returned the sly smirk.

  “Yes—I accept.” She chuckled and took his hand gently.

  “Good. That wasn’t hard. Damn it, girl, I haven’t the foggiest idea why you rejected so many before, and why you accept a Broken instead.”

  Both ignored the King, leaving their eyes on one another. “Do I have your permission to climb the Spire?” Saul asked.

  Kovos coughed up a laugh. “Heh. Yes, boy, that’s what we agreed. I will inform my riders to escort you to the Spire on the morrow. When you return—no, if you return, we will speak of unity. Now, leave me, both of you. I must mourn my son alone.”

  Saul and Thalia strolled out together, making no eye contact.

  “And girl,” Kovos hacked. They stopped, and Thalia’s eyes looked to Saul. “Don’t spike this one, even if he’s one of them.”

  Saul smirked at her, but she didn’t return it. After descending the stairs, Thalia whispered to him. “I can’t believe this. I shouldn’t have to marry you just so you can sit on the throne.”

  Saul shrugged. “I didn’t speak of sitting on the throne. I am a warrior, not a politician.”

  Chapter Forty-one

  The Calm

  Saul Bromaggus

  Thalia chuckled. “I can’t imagine you sitting on a council, but maybe one day I will.” She sighed, glancing back. “My father has always been that way. Always treating me like a child as if women are weak.” After a long, drawn-out sigh, she said, “I can’t believe you agreed to those terms. I thought Broken favored strong people.”

  “I cannot disagree with that,”
Saul said. As she turned with a glare, he continued. “I dislike weak individuals. Weak-willed. You have a strength of character I admire, and I do not find you repellant, if that is what you are inquiring about.” Saul challenged himself in this endeavor. He grew up learning that the Hydris were hateful and traitorous. He saw none of that in her.

  With a laugh, Thalia leaned in and grasped his arm. “Oh, Saul, you really know how to woo a woman.”

  “I did not mention that I would attempt to woo you. I said I would wed you,” Saul replied.

  She gave him a light shove. “Tsk, not even going to try? How depressing. Here I was, thinking I was a catch.” She sighed.

  Saul stopped abruptly and turned to her. She stopped after another step and turned to raise a brow. He said, “You are.”

  He turned back and continued walking toward the keep door.

  Thalia bumped him with her hip. “You’re funnier than I thought. Careful now, your romantic side is showing.”

  Saul frowned, not looking toward her. “I never said I would be romantic. Do not assume that.”

  “I think I’m going to like this marriage, if you make it.” Her giggling continued. They arrived at the keep door. She opened it, and natural light finally filled Saul’s vision. “Next I’ll find out you have a soft side.”

  “I said stop,” Saul growled.

  Guards stood at attention outside and put hands-on-hilt at his outburst. They relaxed once Thalia’s laughter grew.

  She was lucky Saul’s mind was in another place, wondering what the Spire was, and how he would climb it. He hoped it would have steps, fearing he would have to climb with one hand, if it was even possible.

  With a relaxed tone, she said, “I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad. As long as you treat me with some respect, I won’t have to stab you like the last one.” She spoke lightly, as if it was nothing. “I have a feeling you will. You wouldn’t make the decision to marry unless you’re committed to it, and you respect the other fully. It’s endearing.”

  “That is concerning—but forcing one into things is a disgrace. I am no monster, nor a fool,” Saul reassured her. She snorted a laugh, but Saul paid it no mind. “Why did you think it was me?”

  “A hunch, silly. I told you. Dreams of storms and lightning, it was in the tome I had. Do you read much?”

  “No. I have not learned to read well, nor has it been important. Broken commonly learn through word of mouth.”

  “Mmm. We’ll work on that. At least you aren’t terrible with your mouth.” She snickered.

  Saul didn’t respond. If it was a joke, he didn’t understand it. He felt that question was coming considering how many books lined the wall at her home in Shi’doba. The prophecy implicated him; it was no wonder she sent him to Serpentarius. Although, I did wish to go. She simply gave me a nudge. His whole journey led him to this place—and she aided him without question. But one thing remained. “What do you know about the Spire?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a large structure, a wide bottom slowly thinning as it reaches the sky. The waves around it crash and roar to sink boats that approach. A storm of black clouds stands over it constantly but has grown more vigorous in recent years. Many have tried to climb it seeking the blade, but have been burned by the strikes of lightning, as my father mentioned. He wasn’t lying, or exaggerating. None have survived.”

  Saul shifted in his boots. Burned alive by lightning, like my dreams. My goddess said a storm was coming. “I suppose we’ll see. I won’t fail.” Saul said strongly, pounding his fist to his chest.

  “Such confidence. The mighty Saul—oh, I am the strongest, most glorious fighter of all!” She pretended to unsheathe a blade and hold it above her head. Saul grumbled in response, and she shoved him playfully, making no ground. “As for failing, I should hope not. Lest I meet more suitors dirtier and older than I would care to.” She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Some of the damn families in the Plateau are horrid. The Krellars are demeaning, the Grolanis are forceful and dominating, and the Fireks are downright insane. Some families aren’t so bad, but they all married off early, and no one wants to marry the man-stabbing prude of the King who eats Lordlings. Gods forbid a suitor can’t take a joke or back-talk in general. Many came before, but they were all awful. I stabbed one just to make a point.” She gnashed her teeth and laughed at her own play on words. “Needless to say that family supports my brothers—well, brother, now.”

  They stopped at the large gate to the main city. “I wouldn’t call myself a high-born. I was, in truth, but an exile is seen as disgraceful. I have no title.”

  “Not like I care. One can learn proper manners and somewhat leadership, but you can’t teach someone to garner respect. Stuff like that sticks to a person, like a disease. Parenting, am I right?” Saul took that as a compliment to his mother and father.

  They opened the large gate, meeting a sizeable crowd. “It’s him, with the princess! The Soldier of Storms!” one yelled.

  The crowd was filled with Hydris, save for seven Broken at the front—his comrades, whom he traveled with. They seemed relieved to see him, eyes wide and mouths open. Korren’s face was sullen; Saul placed his hand on his shoulder and nodded. They saluted each other in respect for his sister who died.

  Mumbles and murmurs went over the crowd. “He saved the King. Do you seek the blade, my lord?” the man asked.

  I am no Lord, Saul thought. “We move south on the morrow,”

  “We will follow you!” many said, as others whispered and gasped. Some cursed and rolled their eyes.

  Ignoring them all, Thalia leaned up toward his ear. “Come, let’s go to my second home here. Helps me get away from the condescension of the keep. Your friends can stay in the inn nearby.” She grabbed his arm, leading him through the crowd. Many touched his arms and back reverently.

  “He’s missing a hand,” one said.

  “How did he kill Ithaca?” another questioned.

  Saul ignored them all as Thalia led him and the other Broken out of the crowd.

  The city was vast. It reminded him of Chromata, the central city of the Vale. Most houses here were made of light-colored wood, pale grey stones carved into sharp ends, and gently curved roofs. The city was rather absent of people, and Saul assumed that many were either in the crowd or hiding in their homes. The walls of the city were high above them, each with massive carvings larger than the ones on the outside. He could barely make them out, but assumed they took centuries to craft. He wished to see the architecture, and wanted to investigate the city he would stay in. “Could we view the city first?” Saul asked.

  Thalia scratched the nape of her neck. “That’s a surprise. I think we’ve both had an exhausting day, but—sure, I’d love a stroll through town.” She smiled. She motioned to the guards, who began to escort Saul’s allies to their home, and to leave the two in private.

  They strolled through long streets that seemed to go through circles, as if they were built to mimic the outer wall. Thalia told him stories of when she was young: where she learned to use her magic, where she went to learn as a child, and what she was forbidden from doing—of which there were many. There were many things to learn about her as a whole.

  She took him to the outer walls, and they walked along them casually. Saul was fascinated by the engravings of various battles; Thalia spoke of the victory of Chaira Frauntis, who slayed three Dragons herself three thousand years prior in the wars between Feyamin and Kathynta, long before the Broken settled in the Vale. The wars crept back many times in history, though the last was fifty years gone. The Blazik Lords were as hotheaded as their people and not ones to budge. She told many stories of heroes of the past, and Thalia seemed enamored by them—reminiscent of him in that way.

  They walked up a large set of stone steps on the city wall for almost an eternity, it seemed, to the top. Thalia sat on the edge of the wall, legs dangling over the side. “Say, we haven’t actually talked about your history. It seems you know mine, now. Except about my Mot
her. She’s been off in Feyamin on a diplomatic mission. She was supposed to come home some time ago, but it’s been extended by the request of the Lords there. They prefer having a representative to deal with in person.” After a pause, she said, “She was nearly killed by Ithaca after she rejected him. He was a bastard from before their marriage, and she denied his existence.”

  It was true—he hadn’t talked about his past much. “I was raised knowing that the military was my life. I was strong, I was great, and I would bring my people to glory.” The sun began to set near the horizon; the sky filled with slashes of oranges and reds, dancing across the blue.

  Talia’s eyes lingered on him. “Do your people have actual hobbies up there? Or do you train all day?”

  “Each of us has one non-combat profession, at least.”

  “This is like pulling teeth,” she said, sighing. “And yours would be—let me guess, knitting?” she snickered.

  “Cooking.”

  “Oh my, I’ve bagged myself a winner. He fights and he cooks!”

  Turning with a narrowed eye, Saul asked, “You have your own cooks, do you not?”

  “Just because I have my own cooks doesn’t mean I don’t want my future husband to cook for me. I’m sure you’re a lovely meal crafter. But you’ve run all day, and almost—well, fallen. You need a rest.” She slapped his left hand loudly. “You can make me a meal when you bring that blade back.” Holding her hand on his, she gave it a light rub. “Do you have any family?”

  Saul winced, and Thalia leaned back. He simply shrugged and told her the truth. “Uncles, Aunts, Cousins. My mother died in the war ten years ago. She was a Warmaster, and a brave woman. She pushed forward in the battle to distract the armies, allowing the others to retreat. My father was a member of the Council of Fangs, but was burned for rejecting the Dragon’s new laws. It was the reason I was exiled.”