The Sentinel's Reign

by Suzanne Rogerson

  She closed her eyes and focused her magic, using it to eavesdrop on the two guards’ conversation.

  ‘I’m glad to see the back of these stinking corpses,’ the podgy guard said to his companion.

  ‘Exile scum,’ the second guard said with a sneer.

  ‘Well, we have to make room for the new prisoner.’ The podgy guard laughed. ‘He was a fool coming back; you know I always thought him intelligent, for a farmer at least…’ He laughed at his own joke, but his companion blazed with self-righteous anger.

  ‘That bastard is getting what he deserves; killing his servants and their little girl before burning the evidence of his crime. Hanging’s too good for him…’

  Tei felt dizzy with realisation and shock. She peered around the building that helped conceal her and watched the two men moving on to the last corpse.

  ‘You never know what these exiles and their supporters are capable of,’ the same guard continued. It was clear he believed every word he said, so he couldn’t be one of the Masked Riders. ‘And look at this war we’re being forced to fight. If the exiles had the courage to surrender…’

  The podgy guard shook his head. ‘Consider it this way. This is the first war in Kalaya’s history; our deeds will be remembered in years to come.’

  The guards hoisted down the last body and tossed it from the platform onto the wagon below. Tei recognised Beneger; his dead body landed on top of the pile of corpses and balanced precariously, limbs sprawled at odd angles.

  Tei forced herself to look past her sadness and revulsion, to concentrate on the guards’ conversation.

  They were testing the strength of each rope on the gallows. ‘They’ve certainly seen some action this last year, but they’ll still hold up for the last of them.’

  The podgy guard smirked. ‘Nothing like a hanging to send us off to war.’

  The two men climbed down from the platform, still chatting about the coming war as they led the horse and wagon of death away.

  Tei struggled to find her composure as she sorted through the details of the overheard conversation. Beyond the fact that some of the town guards were Masked Riders, she now knew Brogan was alive and was Rathnor’s prisoner. He was due to face the hangman’s noose before Rathnor led the people to war. That meant she might have a few days to work out how to rescue him.

  She clung to Garrick’s words, ‘...there’s still hope.’

  With renewed purpose, Tei headed towards the guardhouse. After checking no one would spot her, she reached out with her magic.

  She felt Brogan’s presence inside the guardhouse and the relief of knowing where he was outweighed her fear of how to save him. She forced herself to keep calm and chose the tavern opposite the guardhouse to wait and make her plans. She ordered a meal and took a table at the front where she could look out and observe the square, but also check out the other patrons of the tavern. She eavesdropped on the various conversations of the guards and islanders enlisted to fight in the war, but found out nothing she didn’t already know.

  Tei’s food arrived and she smiled her thanks to the serving maid, just as a snippet of conversation caught her attention. As she took a mouthful of stew, she blocked out the other noises in the tavern and zoned into the discussion between two farmers.

  ‘…don’t think I’ll sleep tonight, not on the eve of war.’

  ‘Get drunk and forget about it. There will be plenty of time to worry about it as we march against the exiles.’

  ‘What about my farm? The crops will spoil; I won’t be able to feed my family.’

  ‘Shh,’ his companion whispered. ‘People hear you complaining, next thing you know you’re on the gallows, swinging with the other traitors.’

  Tei forced her dry throat to swallow the masticated food in her mouth even though it made her queasy.

  Taking a long swig of ale, she made herself finish the meal. While she ate, she planned the details of her rescue, now knowing it would have to be tonight.

  She pushed aside her empty plate and signalled for service. The tavern keeper came over as she was sorting through her coins.

  ‘I’d like a room with a view over the gallows,’ she told him.

  He sucked air through his teeth and held up his hands. ‘All the rooms are taken, I’m afraid, what with so many people flocking here to sign up for the war effort.’

  Tei pushed extra coins across the table, and watched him swoop down on the money.

  The tavern owner winked. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  ***

  Tei sat at the window, peering out of the shutters onto the market square below. Her gaze never strayed far from the guardhouse, though there had been little activity to note. All attention seemed focused on the final preparations for war. There wasn’t even a guard presence in the town square. She guessed they’d been stationed around the wagon train she’d noticed gathering at the southern end of town. The square seemed strangely quiet, as though the whole of Newington was holding its breath for tomorrow’s pre-war ceremony; a ceremony Tei had every intention of spoiling.

  She sighed, tired of sitting idle and looking at the unchanging view. She stifled a yawn, her eyelids drooping, then her forehead banged against the splintered shutter, shocking her awake.

  Tei rose and paced the tiny room, before rooting through her pack for something to chew to keep her awake. There was nothing, so she lay on the bed and propped herself up against the headboard. The smell of the bed was enough to liven up her senses; the lumpy straw mattress was definitely not worthy of the extra coins she’d paid.

  Her thoughts turned to Brogan and the connection between them tugged at her. She allowed the magic to take her and found her spirit travelling across the deserted square, through the hard stone of wall and floor, down into the depths of the guardhouse. She hovered inside a tiny cell where light reached weakly through the barred door. It was barely enough to see by, but she could make out Brogan’s outline, laying face up on a strip of wood that acted as a bed. Sadness and resignation hung over him, as though he’d given up.

  Tei forced herself to pull away and survey the guardhouse - like the town square there were few guards on duty.

  She jumped off the uncomfortable bed and peered out of the shutters. Nothing had changed. The gallows drew her attention. She promised herself that Brogan would not be Rathnor’s next victim.

  It was finally beginning to get dark, and the cloudy sky helped keep the moonlight at bay.

  Be careful, Tei.

  The voice in her head made her jump. Go away.

  Please don’t push me away, Callisa said.

  We have nothing to say to each other. I would thank you not to pester me; I need to keep a clear head.

  The Sentinel remained silent, though Tei could still feel her lingering presence.

  I’m sorry things didn’t work out, Callisa said, her voice breaking.

  Tell that to the men you sent to their deaths.

  They knew it was worth the risk, but you can’t think beyond your love for Brogan to see the truth.

  Tei struggled to swallow her rage. Believe that if it will ease your conscience, but it won’t change the fact you killed those men as surely as Rathnor did.

  Callisa oozed hurt like a festering wound, and Tei smiled savagely at her pain. I won’t offer my forgiveness to ease your guilt. You don’t deserve redemption.

  Callisa’s spirit became distant. Maybe we can talk when you return. Then she was gone.

  Tei punched the bed, feeling the old straw give under her fists. She pounded out her frustration until her knuckles were scratched and sore on the soiled straw. Then she collapsed on the ruined bed and waited for darkness to claim the night.

  ***

  The tavern was silent as she wove through the obstacle course of stacked tables and chairs and out into the deserted market square. Tei kept to the edge of buildings, her eyes constantly scanning for movement, but it was so dark she could barely see where to plant her feet. Few of the buildings enclosing
the square offered any light, so the guardhouse acted as a beacon leading her in.

  When she was close enough, Tei took a deep breath and strolled up to the imposing building. She rapped at the door, flinching as her sore knuckles banged against the solid wood. A sleepy looking guard peered through the grill. He looked at her, then, deciding she was no threat, slowly unlocked the bolts and pulled open the heavy door.

  ‘What are you, the night-time entertainment?’ He leered at her.

  ‘Hardly.’ Tei took a step forward and wedged her foot in the door as she brandished a scroll under the guard’s nose. ‘New orders for the prisoner.’

  ‘What prisoner?’ He frowned at the paperwork.

  ‘There’s only one prisoner that counts, everyone knows that.’

  The guard made to snatch the scroll from her, but Tei pulled it out of reach. ‘These orders are to go directly to the senior guard. Where is he?’

  He stepped back to admit Tei into the guardhouse. She walked into the shady room, wrinkling her nose at the rank male odour, and surveyed the shadows as the guard locked the door behind her. The ominous sound of bolts sliding into place made her spine tingle.

  The room appeared empty of other guards, and a game of cards laid out on a table with only one chair was another promising sign.

  ‘Down the corridor, last room on the left,’ the guard said as he retook his seat. ‘Want me to draw you a map?’

  ‘No thanks, you’ve already been most helpful.’ Then she spoke the words of the sleeping spell and watched the guard slump face first on the table, scattering the cards on the floor.

  Tei snagged the keys from his belt and hid them under her cloak. Then adjusting her hood to keep her face concealed, she hurried down the corridor and reached the closed door of the senior guard’s office, hesitating outside as she felt the strong auras of the two men within.

  The stairs to the lower cells where Brogan was prisoner seemed tantalising close. She weighed up her options, doubting she could take on both men at the same time. Decision made, she ducked down the steps to the cells. A flaming torch at the bottom of the stairs gave off enough light to guide her to the only occupied cell at the end of the row.

  ‘Brogan, it’s me.’

  She saw movement in the shadows as she searched through the keys, looking for the master key to unlock the door.

  ‘Tei?’

  Brogan came into focus behind the barred door and she froze. The keys jingled in her trembling hand as she took a breath and struggled to fit the first key into the lock.

  ‘Tei, what are you doing?’

  ‘Shh,’ she warned as the second key she tried jammed in the lock. ‘Damn.’ She wrestled it free and cursed again when the third key she tried didn’t fit either. Then she heard movement from upstairs.

  ‘Brin, what are you doing down there?’ There was a note of suspicion in the guard’s voice.

  Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Tei shoved the fourth key in the lock and almost cried aloud when the lock clicked open.

  ‘Brin?’

  She struggled to pull open the door, scraping it ajar enough for Brogan to squeeze out the gap. He ran past her, heading for the stairs. Tei pocketed the keys and grabbed the torch as she rushed after Brogan.

  By the time she reached the top step, Brogan had already tackled the first guard from his feet. Tei charged the second guard, using the flaming wood as a weapon. He batted it aside with his cudgel and knocked it from her grasp.

  He swung again, aiming for her head. Tei ducked the blow and danced out of range and away from the yawning drop of the stairs.

  Catching his balance, the guard turned to face her, smiling savagely as he brought up his cudgel for another strike. The smile disappeared from his face as Tei’s foot slammed into his gut. Wind whipped past her as his cudgel caught her a glancing blow on the arm. Then she watched the guard flail uselessly in the air before tumbling down the stairs into darkness. She heard a dull thud and then nothing.

  Without pausing for breath, Tei rushed to Brogan’s aid. The guard had drawn his sword and Brogan was trying to defend himself with the smoking torch she’d lost moments before.

  The two men faced each other, while Brogan barred her behind him in the narrow corridor.

  ‘Rathnor wanted you to hang,’ the guard said, swinging his sword in a lazy arc in front of them. The wicked edge of the blade glinted as he stepped in suddenly and thrust towards Brogan’s stomach.

  Brogan batted the blade away, but there was hardly any contact, the guard had already stepped back, toying with him. ‘Still, Rathnor can’t always get what he wants now, can he?’ The blade danced in again, swiping for Brogan’s throat, though again the manoeuvre was purposely short of the mark.

  ‘How long have you been serving him, Jarance?’ Brogan asked, brandishing the wooden torch.

  ‘A long time, long before you came on the scene, farmer boy.’

  Tei struggled to free her sword, but Brogan still barred the corridor, keeping her behind him.

  ‘You had a nice farm, it was such a shame to see it burn.’

  ‘You bastard!’ Brogan lashed out, but his makeshift weapon didn’t have the reach and Jarance’s sword slipped inside Brogan’s guard and nicked his leg before Jarance stepped back.

  Tei gripped her sword hilt tight, but Brogan still barred her path.

  ‘I’m going to kill you myself,’ Jarance said conversationally, ‘and Rathnor can have his fun with the girl instead. He’s been after her for a while now; I’m sure she’ll help him forget all about you.’

  Brogan growled and lunged forward, but at the same time, Tei pushed him off balance and squeezed through the gap. She blasted out all her anger and pain at Jarance, the bolt of fire hot and feral as it left her palm.

  Jarance flew backward through the corridor and cracked his head against the wall. Tei cringed, not liking the way he’d slumped into a heap.

  Brogan picked himself up and then grabbed her in a tight embrace. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘No, I’m fine.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Saving you, clearly.’

  Brogan gestured to Jarance, barely able to contain the anger inside him as he looked down at the man who had helped murder his friends. She understood that rage; she felt it whenever she thought about Nadan.

  ‘Should we lock him up?’

  ‘I think he’s dead already. And there’s no time, Rathnor might have sensed my spells.’

  Her words spurred them into action. They left the guardhouse through the back door, pausing in the shadows long enough for Tei to pull up her hood and pass Brogan the necklace.

  ‘You left this behind,’ she said as she pressed it into his palm. ‘Put it on, it has a protection ward on it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ll explain later.’

  The market square was as silent and still as Tei had left it with no calls of alarm disturbing the quiet. Taking Brogan’s hand, she led them at a run towards the edge of town. They kept to the shadows, slipping past the few guard patrols they saw, not stopping until they’d cleared the town boundaries and reached the forest where the horses were waiting.

  They took a moment to catch their breath and then checked over each horse and adjusted the saddles and harnesses.

  A few minutes later they were mounted and each held the reins of a spare horse.

  ‘Calan and Sethall were good men,’ Brogan said into the darkness.

  Tei reached out and squeezed his hand. ‘I’m sorry they didn’t make it.’

  He was silent for a time. ‘It’s not too late… we could go back, take Rathnor while he assumes I’m still locked up in the guardhouse.’

  Tei shuddered at the idea and her voice refused to obey her.

  ‘Come on, Tei, let’s get the bastard.’ Brogan’s words came out in a rush, mistaking her silence for contemplation.

  She gripped his hand harder. ‘Haven’t enough people died trying?’

  ‘Then wh
at? Stand by and let this ridiculous war go ahead?’

  ‘What else can we do?’

  Before he could answer, they heard the call of the alarm raised in town.

  ‘It’s too late.’ Tei swung her horses to face the direction of Turrak.

  She heard Brogan turn the horses behind her. ‘The army will march in a few hours,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I know; I’ll get word to Hafender as soon as we’re safe.’ Tei kicked her heels into Starflower’s flanks and they galloped into the night, towards the mountains.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Farrell studied the line of cliffs, looking for the break in the rock that would grant his fleet access to the paradise within. Kalaya still appeared to be an impenetrable mass of mountains, and jagged rocks littered the sea, preventing any ship from sailing too close to investigate further. He could feel the pulsing magic of the barrier and doubted his contact’s promise that it would fall.

  He paced the quarterdeck, waiting for Buck to make his appearance. He hadn’t seen the old hermit venture from below deck for days and his erratic behaviour worried Farrell as much as the island fortress.

  Eventually Buck arrived, looking old and haggard. He nodded a greeting, but said nothing as he stared at the island. Farrell thought he saw something akin to fear in the old man’s eyes.

  He leant in close to the hermit, keeping his voice low. ‘Speak plainly, man. We’re on the brink of war. This is no time to hold back your thoughts.’

  Buck sighed, looking miserable. ‘There’s a change on the island, not for the better. It’s as though the threads of magic I felt before are falling away.’

  ‘I feel nothing beyond the barrier,’ Farrell said. ‘I only see what my eyes show me; another dead island like our own. Another Stone Haven.’

  ‘Maybe that’s Kalaya’s future.’

  Farrell baulked, and then forced himself to stay calm. ‘I don’t appreciate that kind of talk, Buck. I’ve risked everything bringing us here. We, or what’s left of the Aconian race, risk everything…’ He paced the deck and then stopped in front of Buck, looking into the old man’s eyes. ‘Tell me what you see,’ he whispered through gritted teeth.