Shard Knight (Echoes Across Time Book 1)

by Ballard, Matthew

  A sharp chill ran along Pride’s spine as he recalled the conversation with Finn. Had his enemies discovered the truth, the church and its parishioners would’ve shunned him. His life’s work ruined by an unwanted Ayralen visitor. How many Ayralens knew his secret? He’d long since dealt with the priest that spoke with his mother, and he thought he’d closed every loop.

  A loud banging on the iron door broke his trance.

  “Enter,” Pride said.

  Lord Randal peered through the door’s crack before pushing it wide. “Your Majesty, I’ve brought the prisoner.”

  “Very good Niles. Send him in.”

  A tall lanky Ayralen man entered wearing a fresh tunic, trousers, and shoes. The outfit stood in stark contrast to the filth covering his face and hands. His thin disheveled hair lay twisted in a tangled mass, and dark stubbles covered his face and neck. He kept his eyes lowered staring at his shackled wrists and ankles as he shuffled across the room not daring a peek at the king. He came on Lord Randal’s heels and those of a shield knight escorting him.

  The hum of a thin detention shield surrounded the greasy man. Its near invisibility marked the man’s threat level.

  “Prisoner, what’s your name?” Pride said.

  “My name is Brendyn Hartel of Lora’s Guard. Protector of the Heartwood and loyal ambassador of the prime guardian.”

  Pride snorted with contempt. “Ambassador is it? Is that what you call yourself?” He crossed the room and stood before the dirty Ayralen. “You’ll address me as Your Majesty while in my presence. Do you understand me?”

  Brendyn nodded. “I understand Your Majesty.”

  “That’s better. Have you forgotten how a visiting ambassador should address a king?” He shook his head. “You Ayralens have a great deal to learn about manners.”

  “I apologize Your Majesty.” Brendyn said speaking into the floor with his down turned face blank of expression.

  Pride extended his hand, and the shield surrounding Brendyn disappeared.

  The shield knight’s eyes widened with panic. He raised his hand, and blue light flickered in his fingertips.

  “Be at ease Derick. I intend to use my magic to interrogate this prisoner.” Pride flicked his wrist, and a shield thick enough to stop a stampeding bull flickered to life around Brendyn.

  “I apologize for the ineptitude of the shield Your Majesty. Collapsing it shouldn’t have been possible.”

  “Knight Derick, you’ll have to forgive an old man who’s still got a few tricks up his sleeve. You’ve committed no wrong,” Pride said.

  Tension drained from the knight’s shoulders. “Yes Your Majesty. If you wouldn’t mind my asking, how did you do it?”

  “I’ll leave you to figure that out Derick. Now, if you’ll excuse us, you may take your leave.”

  Derick bowed. “Thank you Your Majesty.” He spun on his heel and strode from the room.

  Brendyn’s gaze never left the floor throughout the exchange.

  “Mister Hartel, my patience today has been exhausted so I’m going to come straight to the point. I need information about your mission to my country.”

  “The avalanche on Salem’s Peak exposed an opening that raised the curiosity of an Ayralen guardian,” Brendyn said. “He sent word to the prime guardian, and he sent us to investigate.”

  Pride extended his hand and gave his wrist a slight twist.

  The shield surrounding Brendyn shrunk until spirit energy hovered above his skin like a second layer of skin.

  Pride flicked his index finger, and the shield descended by a hair’s width.

  A high-pitched scream resonated from Brendyn’s throat. “I’ve told you what I know.”

  Pride’s pulse pitched higher as the joy of the hunt poured through his body like warthogs running wild through a thicket. As he twisted his wrist, a tight smile tugged at the corners of his paper-thin lips.

  Brendyn’s body lurched as saliva ran unfettered from his slackened jaw. His eyes bulged, and his legs wobbled like a tub of raspberry jam as his self-control slipped away.

  Pride released the shield’s hold lifting it from the surface of Brendyn’s skin. “Please Mister Hartel, continue with the same tired story you told a month ago. I’m rather enjoying this process. When you’re ready to speak the truth, can you give some sort of signal to my minister of internal affairs?”

  Brendyn sagged, and his trembling legs bordered on collapse as sweat formed beneath the armpits of his tunic. He pulled in large rasping gasps struggling to speak the faintest whisper.

  This Ayralen scum would conform. Pride saw weakness in his eyes. He merely needed another tweak. “We’ve built a private cell for you at the colony Mister Hartel. I think you’ll enjoy your personal accommodations. No more troublesome visits from your friends. I wonder if you’ll have as much success staying alive? Or, perhaps you’d enjoy your own quarters here in the palace? All your meals prepared by my personal chef, and you’d enjoy the comfort of your own soft bed.”

  Brendyn struggled to preserve consciousness as his head lolled like a rag doll. He temporarily won the battle for self-control as his neck followed the sound of Pride’s voice. “What…is it…you want?” His words came broken and slurred.

  “Let’s start with the truth,” Pride said.

  “The truth?” A broken smile crossed his sunken face. “The truth is I never wanted to come on this Godforsaken mission.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “Danielle Deveaux lacks the experience and wisdom necessary to lead an expedition of this importance.”

  Pride resisted the urge to unleash another jolt of spirit energy. “Keep talking.”

  “If you’re serious about your offer, I’ll tell you…Your Majesty.”

  “Be careful Mister Hartel. You don’t control the flow of information in this conversation. I do. You’ll tell me because I want to know. If I’m feeling generous, I’ll reward you. Ask yourself if your life is worth it? I’ll not negotiate this point further. You can simply tell the truth or die.”

  Brendyn sagged and dropped his head nodding. “We never meant to enter the mountain cave. A snowstorm forced us to take cover.”

  “I see. Why did you leave the book?”

  “I’ll tell you the truth, but, honestly, I find this part unbelievably myself. The book had a magical trap embedded inside. When Danielle opened the book, piles of human bones littering the room came alive and unleashed strange black magic.” He shivered as he recounted the details. “We lost two team members. I wish we’d never seen that cave.”

  “And you left the book fearing further disaster?”

  “Yes. We planned on returning with a larger team once we contacted the prime guardian.”

  “Honestly Mister Hartel. I find the skeleton story a bit over the top, but I’m going to let it slide. Please continue.”

  “Our primary mission was to find Ronan Latimer and place him on the Meranthian throne.”

  Pride chuckled and shook his head. “What a foolish notion. Elan’s on my side Mister Hartel. Your prime guardian should know better. How did you know Ronan was alive?”

  “The prime guardian received a message. I wasn’t privy to the details. As far as I know, the only Meranthians Connal Deveaux knew came from Princess Arianne’s trip to Ayralen twenty years ago,” Brendyn said.

  Pride’s eyebrows raised as a realization struck him. “Ah, Patron Tyrell was no doubt involved. Elan saw to it that he met his final reward. He’s no longer among the living. It seems your mission has taken a decidedly bad turn.”

  “As I said earlier Your Majesty, Danielle’s decision to enter that cave proved disastrous. Patron Tyrell’s death makes little difference to me. I met the man once many years ago. I barely knew him.”

  “When did you meet Patron Tyrell?”

  “Princess Arianne came to Ayralen to establish a relationship with our country. Tyrell came as part of her team, and I served as ambassador during her time in the Heartwood.”

  �
�Tell me about Princess Arianne’s time in the Heartwood. I know she traveled to Ayralen against King Torr’s wishes.”

  Brendyn’s eyes shifted, and he licked his lips. “What do you want to know Your Majesty? That happened a long time ago.”

  This man tried to deceive him, and he wouldn’t tolerate insubordination. He shook his head and extended his palm. “Mister Hartel, you trifle with your life. So be it.” Energy gathered like a storm at the tips of his outstretched fingers.

  Desperation oozed from Brendyn’s face as he lifted his shackled hands as if to fend off the blow. “No wait! Please Your Majesty!”

  Pride contained the gathering ball of blue spirit energy and stared with contempt at the worm hunkered before him. “You’ll not lie to the king! Do you understand me Mister Hartel? Your life is forfeit. Tell me what you know without further prompting.”

  Brendyn’s head jerked “Yes! I’ll tell you everything. Just don’t kill me please.”

  Pride let the energy recede and lowered his hand. He wanted to decimate this pagan where he stood, but he needed the information first. “Talk, and talk willingly. That was your final warning.”

  Words flew from Brendyn’s mouth. “As I said, I was an emissary of sorts to the Queen during her visit to the Heartwood. I took care of her communications, set up her meetings, and attended her general needs. I came to know her rather well during that time.” Brendyn licked his lips and ran a trembling hand through the mess of hair atop his head. “She began a relationship with the prime guardian. An intimate relationship.”

  Pride raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t surprise me. The woman made many poor choices. Go on.”

  “She became pregnant during her long stay in the Heartwood, and I can’t imagine any other father but the prime guardian,” Brendyn said.

  Goose bumps raised on his flesh, and he shivered. How close they’d all come to an Ayralen king sitting atop the Meranthian throne. Disaster couldn’t begin to describe that scenario. “That confirms what I’ve long suspected. Her son is Ayralen, and her story a lie. If the country had known the truth, she would’ve hung and saved us many years of grief,” Pride said.

  “There’s more to the story,” Brendyn said. “The queen gave birth to twins Your Majesty. A boy and a girl.”

  “Miss Deveaux,” Pride said.

  “That’s correct Your Majesty.”

  “Miss Deveaux carried a ring with her. It’s an important Meranthian artifact. I need information about her ring,” Pride said.

  Brendyn scratched his head and stared toward the ceiling as if searching long forgotten memories. “I do recall overhearing a conversation between the queen and the prime guardian the day before she left. Connal Deveaux gave her a gift, but I didn’t see what. He asked Arianne to give it to Ronan on his eighth birthday. She was distraught, and I had a hard time understanding the entire conversation. He mentioned the phrase ‘each having one’. After that, she broke down, and I retreated.”

  He stood frozen in stunned disbelief as the news sent his pulse soaring. Had he understood the man correctly? Ronan held his ring. He’d had it his whole life.

  “The prince has the second ring Your Majesty,” Lord Randal said.

  “Yes Niles. I formed the same conclusion.”

  “Without the book Your Majesty we -“

  The whiny shrill of Lord Randal’s voice set his head throbbing. “Yes Niles. I know.”

  “That’s all I know Your Majesty,” Brendyn said. “I’ve kept my end of the bargain.”

  “Yes indeed you have, but I’m afraid I’m going to need another favor.”

  “But, Your Majesty I -“

  Pride gripped Brendyn’s manacled wrist. He reached inside his mind and gathered enough magic to kill a man several times over. He squeezed the spirit energy into a concentrated pinpoint no larger than a pebble. “No, Mister Hartel. I’m not quite finished with you.”

  Brendyn stared with wide-eyed fear at the compressed spirit energy drifting toward him. “I’ve fully cooperated. You promised.”

  Pride gathered the dark blue sphere above Brendyn’s wrist and willed it forward letting it sink into the Ayralen’s skin.

  Brendyn jerked away his hand as if he’d touched a hot stove. Panic locked his jaw shut, and his eyes widened with fear. “What did you do to me?”

  “Do you feel that Mister Hartel? Do you feel it working inside you?” Pride said.

  Brendyn shook his hand as if trying to shake loose a bug that had landed on his skin. “It’s moving. I can feel it moving inside my arm.”

  “It’s Elan’s spirit Mister Hartel. It travels through your veins and lodges deep inside your heart. It’ll remain small enough to cause you no harm for a week. After seven days, it expands at a rapid rate.”

  “But, but…I gave you what you wanted.”

  Pride put on his best smile. “There’s nothing to fear. I can remove Elan’s little gift when you deliver. But, if it takes longer than a week, give or take a day, well…just don’t take longer than a week. Okay?”

  The blood drained from Brendyn’s face. “Deliver what?”

  “The ring of course. Mister Latimer’s ring and the book. I need them both.”

  “But I don’t know where they are. I can’t begin to guess. I’ve never been to Meranthia.”

  “Then I suggest you find a way. If you deliver the book and the ring, I’ll remove the…gift, and give you everything else I promised earlier.” He held up a hand. “By Elan’s name, I do solemnly promise.”

  Brendyn shook his head. “You can’t do this to me.”

  “Niles, please return Mister Hartel’s staff and pouch before sending him on his way. I’ve a feeling he’ll be needing those.”

  “Yes Your Majesty. I’ll make sure he has them.”

  Brendyn trembled as he shuffled across the room led by Lord Randal.

  “Remember Mister Hartel, you’ve one week to return with the book and ring. I’ll be watching. You can bet your life on it.”

  Brendyn glanced over his shoulder. “Yes…Your Majesty. I’ll do it.” Brendyn’s words came out in a hoarse whisper.

  Pride’s headache had disappeared. He whistled the seventh hymn of Meranthia as he watched the beautiful lights swirl in Elan’s Heart.

  The Golden Tap

  At the road’s end, the legendary Golden Tap glistened like an emerald on the edge of Lake Latimer. Freehold’s upper crust visited the inn during summer retreat season. Its breathtaking views offered time and space for quiet reflection, but the music, dancing, and atmosphere kept people coming back season after season. Any socialite seeking attention vacationed at the Tap.

  Danielle pushed her palm against her bouncing golden curls. “How do I look?”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was talking to the queen herself,” Ronan said. “Don’t forget your accent. You have to sound Meranthian or they’ll toss us out.”

  “How do I sound now? Do I sound like you?” Danielle’s accent transformed from the flowing rhythmic tone common in Ayralen to the halted choppy Meranthian style.

  “You don’t sound like me, but you sound exactly like mother. It’s frightening,” Ronan said.

  Danielle blushed. “I just wish we didn’t have to steal gold from that caravan,” she said.

  “They were slavers Danielle.”

  Her expression soured. “You’re sure?”

  Ronan rolled his eyes and pulled his hat low on his head. “Remember, I’m your servant. Treat me like one. Come on let’s go inside.”

  Danielle waved overhead signaling to Keely the all-clear. “I’ll remember.” She tucked a small black poodle into her over-sized handbag and pushed open the shimmering door to the Golden Tap.

  Black and white marble tiles covered the spacious entryway floor. Gold paint covered the walls accented by polished oak molding. A large floor-to-ceiling mirror ran along the wall separating the entryway from the main dining room. Gold light fixtures mounted every few feet emitted a soft glow giving the ro
om an air of magic.

  From within the Golden Tap’s main dining room, opera music tripped like wind drifting on a summer breeze. Looking up from a reservation book, a middle-aged man dressed in a formal suit and thin black bow tie smiled at Danielle and Ronan as they entered.

  He wore an expression of genuine warmth as he prepared to greet Danielle. “Welcome to the -” He froze mid-sentence, and his face turned as white as a bag of bleached flour. His eyes widened as he gawked unable to speak.

  Ronan cleared his throat. “Good evening, might you have a dinner table open for the lady?”

  The man shook his head emerging from the daze. “I’m sorry. I apologize for my rude behavior. It’s your appearance. You resemble…”

  “The queen? I hear that constantly.” Danielle waved him off with her white gloved hand. “It’s okay. With the looks I get, you’d think I was her long lost daughter or something.” Danielle scratched behind the poodle’s ear nestled in her bag. “Isn’t that right puppet.”

  He bowed. “Yes. Well then, let me be the first to welcome you to the Golden Tap. My name is Rory.”

  “I’ve heard so much about this wonderful inn, but I haven’t had the chance to visit. It’s a remarkable place.”

  “Thank you Miss…”

  “Miss Willow. Anna Willow,” Danielle said.

  “Rory,” Ronan said. “Miss Willow will require a table for two this evening.”

  “Yes. I’m afraid that won’t be possible. We sold out Marisa Madsen’s performance weeks ago. But, you’re welcome to visit the bar. I’ll add you’re name to the waiting list, and, should a table open, I’ll make sure you receive the first available.”

  Ronan produced a gold coin from his suit pocket and slid it onto Rory’s desk. “Thank you Rory, but could you double check your reservation log? Maybe there was a last minute cancellation.” He pointed toward the reservation book leaving the coin unattended.

  Rory’s hand flashed, and the coin disappeared as Rory feigned interest in the reservation log. His eyes gleamed as he nodded. “My eyesight grows worse every year. I do see a cancellation right here.” He pointed to some scribbles in his reservation book. “I’ve a table open near the veranda. Please follow me.”