Shard Knight (Echoes Across Time Book 1)

by Ballard, Matthew

  With the vine’s removed, Danielle’s legs wobbled, and she fell under the strain of exhaustion.

  Ronan caught her before she landed and eased her onto the ground next to Rika.

  Danielle pulled in long strained gasps of breath as she sat and recovered on the carpet of ankle-deep grass.

  Ronan sat down next to Danielle and shut his eyes allowing his breathing and heart rate to slow. “Why did the vines stop Danielle?”

  Danielle shook her head. “I don’t know. He had no reason to free us.”

  “We need to go after him right now Danielle. We can’t let him get away with Lora’s Heart and my ring.”

  “Yes.” Danielle crawled through the thick grass, recovered her staff, and used it to push herself up. “Let’s go.”

  As Ronan went to scoop up Rika her eyes fluttered open.

  “What happened?” Rika’s brow furrowed with a look of confusion as she suppressed a yawn. “Why are you sitting there?” She rubbed her eyes and pushed herself to a sitting position.

  Ronan smiled. “We got tied up for a few minutes.”

  Danielle shot Ronan an incredulous look.

  “Rika, can you walk? Brendyn stole Lora’s Heart and my ring,” Ronan said. “He’s a few minutes ahead, and we need to catch up,”

  Rika pushed herself to her knees and stood. “Let’s go.”

  Ronan jogged across the grassy meadow leaving Lora’s Garden beneath the crystal archway.

  As the group splashed into the serpent pool’s icy water, the crystal door slammed shut, and a veil of darkness descended.

  “Rika, can you see serpents in the pool?” Ronan said.

  Rika gasped. “Yes, it looks like you weren’t the only one to get tied up. Can you give us some light?”

  Ronan forced a wave of power through his sheba blade illuminating the room with red light.

  Danielle channeled nature magic through her staff, and green incandescence added to the sheba blade’s red aura.

  Just below the waterline, a thick white serpent coiled around Brendyn’s corpse. Through lifeless eyes, he stared without focus, and his tongue rolled out the side of his gaping mouth. The serpent unhinged its jaw atop the crown of Brendyn’s head as it tried to swallow him whole.

  Danielle shuddered and diverted her gaze from the carnage.

  “Rika, will the serpents allow us to recover the ring and heart?” Ronan said.

  Rika stepped forward, unhooked Brendyn’s leather belt pouch, and handed it to Danielle.

  Danielle opened a few compartments until she found Lora’s Heart and transferred it to her own belt pouch. She found the gold ring and handed it to Ronan.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  Rika transformed into a white serpent with thin black stripes and disappeared beneath the waterline. She returned a moment later with a glowing shard trapped in her mouth.

  Danielle pulled the shard from her mouth and secured it within her belt pouch as Rika shifted into her human form.

  “How do we get out of here?” Rika said.

  “Back the way we came,” Ronan said. “Danielle if you can create a vine long enough to reach the shaft’s drop-off, Rika can fly up and secure it. I’ll climb the vine and pull you out.”

  Danielle nodded as she went to work.

  “After we escape, we’ll find Sir Alcott and the others at the Queen’s Heart,” Ronan said.

  The Last Plan

  Ronan sat astride Rika as she glided high over Freehold’s western gates under cover of the cloudy night sky. As Rika began her descent, thin cool air rushed over Ronan’s face, and Freehold’s twinkling lights grew larger beneath him.

  Rika soared over the citadel and glided past the dark empty arena before curving from the royal palace.

  Ronan shivered as he recalled details of his last trip inside Freehold’s walls. The night he’d nearly lost Rika seemed an eternity ago.

  The Queen’s Heart came into view with warm light streaming from its foggy windowpanes. Rika extended her talons and glided toward the awaiting rooftop. She flapped her wings slowing their descent, reached out with her sharp claws, and touched down.

  Ronan slipped from her back as Rika shifted into her human form. “Another perfect landing,” Ronan said. “You’re finally getting the hang of this.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, but the inn’s music masked any noise their conversation might produce.

  Rika curtsied and bowed. “Why thank you Your Majesty.”

  Heat flashed through Ronan’s cheeks. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

  She crossed the few feet between them, stood on her toes, and planted a firm kiss on his lips. “Thank you.” She said the words in a breathy whisper and smiled. “Is that better?”

  His legs wobbled as he tasted faint cinnamon from her lips. “Much. I’d like to spend more time having you thank me like that.”

  Rika intertwined her fingers through Ronan’s and pulled him toward the rooftop door. “And I’d love nothing more, but we have people waiting on us. Come on.”

  Ronan followed her through the open door and down the narrow stairway leading to the inn’s top floor.

  Rika stopped in front of a worn door at the end of the hall and knocked twice, waited two beats, and knocked two more times. The door swung open, and Sir Alcott greeted them with a broad smile and open arms. He folded Rika into his arms. “Well done young lady. Well done indeed.”

  Sir Alcott stepped back giving Rika and Ronan room to enter.

  “Hey, what about me?” Ronan said.

  “Yes, you too my boy.” Sir Alcott patted Ronan on his shoulder.

  Ronan smiled, shook his head, and stepped into the room closing the door behind him.

  Devery, Keely, Danielle, and Kelwin sat at a long wooden table. Steam circled from bowls brimming with Mistress McClaren’s lamb stew, and a basket heaped with fresh rolls sat at the table’s center.

  Visible relief washed over Danielle’s face as Ronan and Rika came through the door. “I was beginning to worry.”

  “We waited until after the western gate’s shift change,” Ronan said.

  Cordial smiles and greetings passed among the group, but with the plan’s major section still remaining, nervous energy lingered.

  “Sit and eat. Mistress McClaren dropped off dinner only a moment ago,” Devery said.

  “Danielle just finished telling us what happened with Brendyn,” Keely said. “I should’ve pushed the worm from Salem’s Peak when I had the chance.”

  “At least he didn’t get away with it,” Kelwin said.

  Keely grumbled profanity under her breath and returned to her stew.

  “The important thing is that we’ve collected Lora’s Heart. That’s quite an amazing story Danielle shared with us,” Sir Alcott said.

  Ronan and Rika slid into the last two available seats at the table.

  “Well there’s no sense in letting this stew get cold,” Ronan said as he grabbed a hot roll from the basket. He scooped a heaping portion of lamb stew and vegetables onto his dinner roll and swallowed it in a single bite.

  “Yes, please eat.” Sir Alcott cleared his throat. “Devery and I will do our best to fill you in on the latest events here in Freehold.”

  “We’ve acquired a schedule listing shift changes for the shard knights guarding the heart room.” Devery slid the document to Ronan. “The knights change shifts every four hours as you can see here.” Devery pointed to the document.

  “When the knights change shifts, they travel from the citadel’s rear entrance to the palace.” Sir Alcott handed Ronan a map of the palace grounds. “They leave the citadel here.” He pointed to the door nearest the palace. “Next, they pass through the citadel’s guard posts, cross the king’s road, and walk around to the palace’s servant entrance located here in the back.” Sir Alcott pointed to the map’s location with the letters ‘SE’ scrawled beside it. “They travel through the royal guard post here before entering the door leading into the palace itself.”

  “I don’t
see any place to intercept them,” Ronan said. “There’s guards or citizens watching every inch of that route. Someone will see or hear something.”

  Devery eyed Sir Alcott. “Actually, we don’t plan on intercepting them at all.”

  Ronan raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. He’d never underestimate Sir Alcott. “What’ve you planned?”

  A devious smile lifted Sir Alcott’s long gray beard. “It was your idea that provided inspiration for our plan.”

  “My idea? What’re you getting at?” Ronan slid a heaping spoonful of stew in his mouth and waited for a response.

  “Poison,” Rika said. “You’re going to poison the knights.”

  Sir Alcott smiled. “Such a crafty young lady. I should’ve known you were the actual brains behind the operation.”

  Rika grinned with a satisfied expression.

  “But how are we going to make the knights eat the poison?” Danielle said.

  “I’m going to do it,” Keely said.

  “Through the top of the arena,” Ronan said. “The one entrance the citadel’s guardsmen don’t watch.”

  Keely grinned. “You’re smarter than you look.”

  “How will you know which knights to poison?” Rika said.

  “We won’t know until an hour before the shift change. That’s when the commanding officer assigns the knights for watch,” Sir Alcott said.

  “I’ll find out that information,” Keely said. “If you’ve ever wished you could listen to a conversation like a fly on the wall…well I can.”

  “The guards eat before changing into their dress uniforms, and that’s when we’ll poison their food. It won’t kill them of course,” Devery said. “Just put them to sleep. The tricky part will be the timing.”

  “And we’ll slip into their quarters after the poison does its job,” Ronan said.

  “Yes. Of course none of this can happen without both of our guardian friends.” Sir Alcott tipped his head toward Rika and Keely.

  “Which shift?” Ronan said.

  “Thanks to the information provided by young Master Fitz, we believe the most suitable time occurs with the shift beginning at nine o’clock,” Sir Alcott said.

  “How long will we wait?” Rika said. “The longer we stay at the Queen’s Heart, the longer we place the McClaren’s at risk.”

  “The sooner the better Miss Finn,” Devery said.

  “Danielle, how long will it take to create the poison?” Ronan said.

  “Kelwin and I can have it ready in half a day, but you’ll only have a three or four hour window to use it. The alchemical properties begin to break down after that,” Danielle said.

  “Can we be ready by tomorrow night?” Ronan said.

  “Yes, we can be ready,” Danielle said.

  Fear lined Rika’s expression. “Ronan, what if you’re caught?”

  The room fell silent as the obvious answer remained unspoken.

  Ronan reached across the table and held Rika’s hand. He couldn’t love her more if he wanted to. “I’ll just have to make sure I don’t get caught.” Rika squeezed his hand.

  “What about the rest of you? Is there any reason to hold off?” Ronan said.

  No one at the table spoke providing silent confirmation.

  Ronan nodded. “Tomorrow night it is.”

  “Let’s go over the plans once we get inside the palace,” Sir Alcott said.

  The group spent the next several hours ironing out details. Kelwin, Devery, and Sir Alcott said their good nights leaving Ronan, Rika, and Danielle alone in the meeting room.

  “I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted,” Ronan said and stood from the table.

  Rika slid out from her seat and took his hand. “I’m going with you.”

  Ronan slipped his hand around her waist and smiled. “Alright then. Good night Danielle.”

  “Ronan. Rika. Can you wait a second?” Danielle stood and faced her brother.

  Tears rimmed her eyes as her bright blue eyes held his gaze. “I need you to know…,” her words came out hoarse and rough as she fought through tears. “I need you to know that even though we’ve spent a short time together, you’ve made it the most fulfilling time of my life. No matter what happens, I need to tell you that I love you. Papa would be proud of the man you’ve become.” She reached up and kissed Ronan’s cheek before wiping away her tears.

  Ronan’s chest tightened, and a lump formed in his throat. He opened his arms to Danielle.

  She sank into his embrace and buried her head in his chest. Danielle’s body wracked with sobs as she no longer held back her worry.

  Ronan stroked her wavy golden hair and kissed the top of her head. “I love you back sister. We’ll make it Danielle. You’ll see.”

  She nodded, and Ronan held her for what felt mere moments before he turned down the oil lamp and went to bed.

  ***

  Ronan pushed the unconscious knight under his bunk. So far, their plan had flowed as designed, but he couldn’t shake an odd feeling that he’d overlooked something.

  He tightened the strap on the heavy gold plated breastplate worn by the battle knight on duty. A wave of nausea curdled his guts as he glanced at Pride’s symbol, the eye inside the circle, emblazoned on his cuirass.

  Outside the room, ringing armor and heavy footfalls grew louder and stopped outside the door. Three heavy thuds boomed on the wooden door.

  Ronan slipped the armet over his head and raised his visor providing a clear field of vision. Sweat rolled off his body beneath the heavy armor, and he dreaded wearing it for the next few hours. He opened the door and stood face-to-face with his escort, one of the citadel’s top students.

  The brawny pimple-faced youth stood at attention saluting Ronan.

  Ronan returned the boy’s salute as custom dictated. In his former life he’d performed citadel escort duties. It meant this young man had earned the privilege of competing in Meranthia’s next shard tournament.

  Without conversation, the stone-faced escort spun with military precision and strode from the open doorway marching around the curved passage leading from the battle knight’s wing.

  Ronan left the room, closed the door, and followed the teenager in formal lockstep a few paces behind.

  The escort disappeared around a corner where the hallway broadened as the citadel’s western entrance came into clear view ahead. Devery and Sir Alcott stood near the exit watching Ronan’s approach.

  Devery wore golden chain mail indicative of the Order’s shield knights, and a freshly shaven Sir Alcott wore the formal white robes and cowl common to healers during peacetime. Sir Alcott had pulled his cowl far forward leaving his face hidden by shadows.

  Ronan marched toward heavy double doors and paused near Devery and Sir Alcott. He reached up and lowered his visor as he prepared to leave the citadel.

  The young escort snapped his boots and gave the triumvirate a final salute.

  As the trio’s ranking member, Ronan returned the escort’s salute marking their readiness to leave the citadel.

  The escort removed a polished brass horn from his belt strap and blew a long high-pitched tone.

  The heavy door leading from the citadel’s western entrance emitted a low deep rumble before opening onto a spacious courtyard.

  Devery, Sir Alcott, and Ronan marched in lockstep through the citadel’s double doors and strode into the cool summertime air. The evening’s first stars twinkled overhead as the sun’s orange glow disappeared behind the horizon. A long blue carpet outlined by golden pinstripes stretched outward toward the guardhouse.

  The citadel guard on duty inside the guardhouse saluted as the triumvirate marched past.

  Ronan returned the salute as the outer gates swung open.

  Citadel guards formed a barrier through the crowd of onlookers beyond the courtyard gate who gawked at the high-powered shard knights wearing their formal military armor. The triumvirate remained in tight military lockstep as they passed beyond the citadel’s western gate
onto the king’s road separating the royal palace and citadel. Carriages halted, and foot traffic stopped as the changing of the guard began. Mumbles of excitement passed through the gathered crowd, and a father hoisted his young son on his shoulders to witness three shard knights in full splendor marching through the palace district.

  Ronan rounded the corner and followed the high palace wall to his left. His stomach fluttered as the royal guard post loomed ahead. He prayed the palace guard would wave them through as they did at the citadel.

  Through the guardhouse’s glass window, a uniformed soldier stood from his post and watched the triumvirate approach the palace’s rear entrance. Beside the open gate, two more guards stood at attention.

  Ronan held his breath as they approached the gate. Stiff-necked, he stared straight ahead but kept a wary eye on the guard through the window.

  The guard stood frozen tracking the trio as they marched through the royal gate and approached the guardhouse.

  The royal guardsman raised his hand and waved them past and relief flooded through Ronan. He wanted to scream with joy and run skipping into the palace but remained calm and steady never wavering from his pace or position ahead of Sir Alcott and Devery.

  Two royal guardsmen stood by the door’s leading into the servant’s wing as the Ronan, Devery, and Sir Alcott passed beyond the closing palace gates.

  “Halt!” A firm voice said behind Ronan.

  Ronan froze as the guard’s words hit him like an executioner’s ax. He cursed under his breath and spun.

  The slight armored sergeant hustled from the guardhouse, crossed the courtyard, and stopped before Ronan. The elder guardsman stood all of five feet tall with gray hair and a receding hairline. He placed his gloved fists on his hips and glared at Ronan. “You aren’t Knight Osrid. You’re at least half a foot taller than him. Who are you, and what’re you doing here?”

  Ronan’s pulse raced and sweat ran like water beneath his armor. His soaked tunic stuck to his skin as he flipped up his visor and returned the sergeant’s glare. “Who do you think you are keeping the king’s triumvirate from performing our civic duty?”