Jasmin ignored Rogue and walked to the town livery down the road. Sam, the owner, was standing outside. He’d seen the whole ordeal.
“Sam, would you prepare a wagon and help bring Alonso back to the house?”
Sam nodded. “Right away.”
Jasmin’s heart was still pounding, but she didn’t want anyone to see how scared she’d been. She pretended to be calm as she turned back to see Marcos standing a few feet away. “Would you help Sam load Alonso into a wagon?”
Marcos nodded.
Looking back up the street to where Alonso’s body was, Jasmin was surprised to see that Rogue was gone. Again, he’d been there to help her and then just left.
...
When they made it back to the estate, they unloaded the unconscious Alonso and put him in a bed. Jasmin, not wanting to talk to her mother about the incident, walked down to the creek to think.
She was sitting at the edge of the creek absentmindedly throwing pebbles into the water when Marcos came and sat down beside her. She glanced over at the man. She hadn’t really talked to him since he’d been hired to protect her. “Alonso didn’t do very well today, did he?”
Marcos shrugged. “He showed grit and determination. He didn’t go down without a fight.”
“He pushed that man into fighting. He could’ve talked his way out of that, and he didn’t listen to me.”
“He made a few mistakes. But mostly his mistake was thinking that he was the better fighter. Most times he would be, however, this was not one of them. The king’s man was an exceptional fighter. I wouldn’t want to tangle with him without weapons. In fact, I suspect he would be even more dangerous with weapons.”
“And yet he turned white at the sight of Rogue.”
Marcos chuckled. “Yes, that was quite enjoyable to watch. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.”
“I don’t understand. That man disposed of Alonso as if he were fighting a child. Yet he wanted nothing to do with Rogue. What is it about the man that he fears? He’s just a barroom brawler.”
Marcos looked into Jasmin’s eyes. He smiled. “You really don’t know much about him, do you?”
Jasmin opened her mouth, about to protest that she did. But then it hit her. What did she really know about the man, other than he liked to fight and always seemed to be there when she needed him? “What do you know of him?”
“Enough. Rogue is a well-known name in Golrog. He’s been robbing the king’s tax men for years. There is a substantial bounty on his head.”
Jasmin frowned. “But isn’t Golrog filled with mercenaries? Why hasn’t anyone tried to bring him in?”
“Many warriors have left Golrog in search of Rogue. None return.”
“You were never tempted?” Jasmin asked.
“Oh, I was. I found three of the best trackers I knew. Warriors who I’d fought with and knew to be among the best in all of Vaton. I went to Isaac and he asked me why I was in such a hurry to die. That gave me pause. Isaac is the wisest man I know and he thought I was a dead man walking. So, I convince my friends to take another job. Later that month my friends decided to try without me. They replaced me with two other mercenaries, tough, skilled men. The five of them went hunting for Rogue. Their bodies were delivered back to Golrog in a wagon. Rogue had paid for them to be buried in the Golrog cemetery, which has a special section for mercenaries. He paid for headstones for each of them. The headstones said “a good warrior lies here after making a bad decision.” Every year some hot-head mercenary thinks he’s the one to bring in Rogue. Every year another headstone gets made.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that he killed your friends?” Jasmin asked.
Marcos shook his head. “Rogue killed them because they hunted him. How can I be angry with him for that? He doesn’t kill ordinary folk, he only harasses the king’s men. It would be like walking into the den of a bear and being mad when the bear ate you. You shouldn’t blame the bear.”
Jasmin frowned. There was so much she didn’t know, and lately it seemed that her life was spiraling out of control and the only thing stopping it from doing so was this man Rogue. “Marcos, would you escort me back to town?”
Marcos raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget something?”
“No, but I think it is time I learned more about the bear.”
“I’ll gather the horses,” Marcos said.
The approving look he gave her told Jasmin it was the right thing to do. It was time to learn more about Rogue than just the barroom rumors. It was time to talk to people who actually knew the man.
12
Rogue
Rogue slammed the door as he entered the cabin. His mood was as dark as a Parthian politician’s heart. The day had been a disaster. Dropping his gear at the door, Rogue walked into the kitchen, took a brief look around, found an apple, and sat down at the table.
Zeke walked into the room and watched as Rogue stared at his apple. “You going to eat that thing or just admire it?”
Rogue eyed Zeke and gave a grunt in reply.
“What has you all worked up?” Zeke asked.
“I was in Riverside today,” said Rogue before taking a bite of the apple. It was sweet and crunchy but did little to improve his mood.
“And that is a bad thing? You should be spending more time there, not less. You can’t be spending all your time hunting revenge and then living like a hermit. It isn’t healthy.”
Rogue didn’t disagree with Zeke. His life in the mountains was coming to a crossroads. He no longer felt the burning desire to punish the kingdoms of Vaton for their betrayal. But in one instant, his life had changed today. “There was a king’s man in Riverside today. He saw me.”
“What? How in the seven hells did that happen? Let me guess, that Grant girl was there and you had to make sure she was safe? You don’t owe them anymore. Any debt you had to them you paid in full when you stopped that assassination.”
Rogue’s brow furrowed as he stared at Zeke over his apple.
“Aww, don’t be giving me the stink eye. Damn it, Mendris, it will only be a few days before the king knows you are here. What are you going to do then?”
Mendris, thought Rogue. It had been so long since he’d heard his own name spoken aloud that it sounded strange. “I don’t know. It seems that for the moment the king’s goals and mine are aligned. I’m going to make sure the girl gets to the capital safely. The attack wasn’t personal; it was because she might be next in line to the throne.”
Stunned, Zeke sat down next to Rogue. “Of course she is. It couldn’t be something simple like a vendetta. No, you have to get messed up in a plot that could destroy the kingdom and ruin the lives of everyone in Riverside. Now you can’t walk away.”
Mendris nodded. Zeke was right. Deytar was a strong kingdom, but it was surrounded by enemies. If the king’s family line died out there would be chaos, and the bordering kingdoms would move in like a pack of wild dogs smelling blood. Villages like Riverside would be attacked, homes destroyed. People would die, possibly everyone. Riverside was too far from the capital to warrant troops, as they would be too worried about Jorra in the north. The worst possible scenario for the people of Riverside was a power struggle in Evermeir. To protect all of Riverside, Jasmin needed to be delivered safely to the king. The problem was protecting someone against an unknown enemy was almost impossible. Even if he were at her side at this moment, he could do little.
“Well, I guess the fact that you’ve been exposed matters very little now,” said Zeke with a sigh. “If the girl dies, there would be nothing left here for you but another war to fight. What’s the next step?”
“I told the king’s man that they needed to come to Riverside. He’ll only return with men the king trusts. Once they are here, we can worry about traveling to Evermeir. In the meantime, I’m going to be making another trip into Vaton.”
Zeke frowned. “You sure this is a good time to be raiding?”
“Not raiding this time. I’m going to Golrog. It’s
time I paid Isaac a visit. But first I think it is time I visited your little garden.” In all the years they’d lived together at the cabin, Mendris had never visited the garden, not out of a dislike for work, or gardening, but for the simple fact that many of the plants Zeke grew were used in the magical potions and concoctions he needed as a shadow warrior. Mendris had thought that part of his life was over and that he’d spend his remaining days in here in the mountains, exacting revenge on the kings of Vaton until they finally got him. But Zeke had never believed that would happen. Zeke had kept up his work, cultivating and growing the rare herbs and plants that helped give a shadow warrior his powers. They didn’t have all the same plants as his homeland of Oshva, but Zeke had always done a good job of finding plants that would suffice.
“It’s about damn time. A warrior mage shouldn’t quit using his powers like you did. But why now?”
“I have a feeling I’m going to need all my powers for this. Someone is going up against the king, they’ve already sent a pair of assassins. If they send truly talented ones...”
“I suppose you are right. This is a lot different from attacking tax men and hired soldiers in Vaton. I’ll gather the ingredients, you start making your potions.”
As Zeke left him, Rogue thought back to the last time he’d used his powers. The Shadow Brigade had been deep in Deytar territory about to destroy a bridge when they were ambushed by a battalion of soldiers. They hadn’t known it at the time, but King Leach of Vaton had signed a peace deal with Deytar, and part of the agreement was betraying the Shadow Brigade.
Seven shadow warriors, veterans of battles all over the world, had been under the command of Hubard Fox, Rogue’s older brother. Hubard had been one of the greatest shadow warriors ever, his fighting skills and magic elite, but what separated him from others were his tactical and leadership skills. The Shadow Brigade, one of many units of shadow warriors formed over the centuries, was the most cohesive group of fighters ever assembled in Oshva. Hubard was a born leader and when he gave a command everyone followed it without doubt or reservations. Even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, he always seemed to have a plan to thwart the enemy.
Little Mendris, that was what Hubard had called him. Not because of physical size, but as a reminder that Hubard was the older brother and would always look out for him. Rogue smiled as he remembered the nickname. Little Mendris and his lover, that was what he’d called him and Lensa Beal.
Lensa was Mendris’ soul mate. She’d been the most beautiful girl in the village and they’d grown up together, learned to become shadow warriors together and fought together side by side.
That day Mendris had lost both of them, Hubard and Lensa, during the attack. Mendris and two other shadow warriors, Peadar Catach and Gavin Hosmer, were captured while a third, Solomon Wood, escaped.
In the days following the attack, Mendris had no time to mourn the loss of his lover or his brother. He was too busy being tortured. King Drake was paranoid, and rightfully so, about the Shadow Brigade. He feared that there were more shadow warriors in Deytar and he tried to break Mendris and the others to get them to talk.
However, while Mendris was being attacked, Solomon Wood delivered a message to the king, a hand-written note left in the bed of his young son, that said if the captured Shadow Brigade members weren’t sent home to Oshva, a hundred more would arrive in Deytar and they would target royal families and not just military structures. The threat of escalating attacks on the heels of signing a peace treaty was enough for King Drake to agree to send the remaining Shadow Brigade members home, as long as they gave their word never to fight against Deytar again. Peadar, Gavin, and Solomon agreed to the terms, but Mendris couldn’t go home. His brother and lover were dead because of the betrayal from Vaton, and without Lensa he had nothing to return to. He couldn’t bear the thought of facing his family with the news of Hubard’s death, nor the thought of seeing Lensa’s family. Instead, Mendris escaped his captors and headed west.
Rogue sighed. The old memories of Lensa were finally fading into a dull pain. For years he’d woken up in the middle of the night seeing her face looking to him as dozens of Deytar archers’ arrows struck her. He should’ve saved her, shielded her from the archers, done something. But he failed her, and the memory of that made going home impossible. Now, enough time had passed that he considered the possibility of returning home.
In all the years of his self-induced exile, Rogue had never spoken to anyone from Oshva. He wondered if his father, Ansgar, was still alive. Was his little sister, Evlyn, a shadow warrior? Or had she gone a different path, perhaps married a farmer and gotten busy making babies? The idea amused him, a Fox being a farmer. The family had been warriors for generations, passing down their unique magical skills from one generation to the next. But perhaps it was time for change. The idea of Evlyn marrying a farmer was heartwarming. Perhaps she had a good life now and would never suffer the heartbreak of losing a lover to war.
“Are you going to stand around musing about this and that, or are you going to make some damn magic?” Zeke said as he returned with a large handful of herbs and plants from the garden.
Rogue chuckled at his old friend. Zeke’s enthusiasm for magic had long been tempered by the fact that he’d refused to use his shadow warrior magic for so long. “Relax, you old goat, I’m just warming myself up to the task.”
“You’ve had years to warm to the task. I’m just glad it is only a conspiracy against the throne and the attempted murder of an innocent young woman that got you to take your head out of your arse. I was starting to think it would take something truly dangerous before you admitted you need magic.”
Raising an eyebrow, Rogue studied Zeke’s face. The man was being blunt, but his message was honest and probably true. For far too long, Mendris had allowed himself to wallow in his own pain and suffering, to become the aloof and vindictive hermit called Rogue. It was time to move forward. He owed it to the Grant family to be at his very best as he tried to help them against their enemies. His best meant embracing magic, and using the skills his people had developed for hundreds of years instead of using physical prowess and ruthless tactics alone to hurt his enemies. In truth, everything he’d done since he stopped using magic made him a better warrior, but it was like fighting with one hand tied behind his back. Sure, he could get better at it and become dangerous with only one hand, but until he untied that hand and used both he would never be his most dangerous. It was time to untie that hand. It was time to re-embrace his magic. “Alright, you old goat, you start making smoke bombs. I’ll start with the potions.”
Zeke rubbed his hands gleefully. “Time to make some magic.”
13
Raiya
“Twenty gold coins, as promised,” said the young woman as she slipped the captain the sack of coins.
The captain frowned as if the coins weren’t worth the risk. “About that...”
She pulled her hood back so the captain could look into her eyes. “Was the price not twenty gold coins?” she asked coolly.
Nervously, the captain shook his head. “No, it’s just if we get caught with you aboard.”
“Then don’t get caught. Who knows of our deal?”
“No one. I haven’t even told my first mate. I trust my crew, but not so much that I’d risk my neck with one of them mentioning a strange woman being awarded passage to Mara.”
“Good. Tell them I’m promised to one of the greatest warriors to ever set foot in Droll and that I’m meeting him in Mara.”
“A likely story,” said the captain. “And with all the talk of dragons and Droll these days, I suspect they will want nothing to do with you. They’ll think you’re marrying a dragonblood.”
Raiya smiled. “The man I seek is powerful, but he’s no dragonblood. However, if thinking that keeps your men’s tongues in their mouths and their hands to themselves, then it is a sufficient story.”
“The ship leaves as soon as I return. Are you ready?” the captai
n asked.
Raiya nodded. “I’ve everything I need, and the sooner we leave the better.” The king had ears everywhere. The port city of Westshore was in the Paulan Province and had only been occupied by the king’s men for a few years, but even before the invasion he’d had plenty of spies in the city. As one of the few trading ports in Oshva, it was a hub for news and rumors, and the king was obsessed with controlling the news coming out of Oshva. Few outsiders were welcome in Oshva, and the only traders who were allowed to travel to the kingdom had to report back to the king’s men on their travels. The king had spies in Mara and the southern ports of Droll, and as far west as Mandilla. She suspected he had even more, but it mattered not. The ships which traded with Oshva knew not to talk about the place. It was safer that way. Captain Burton was a good captain and an honest man, but even he had to report to the king’s men. However, he had a long history of helping the Shadow Brigade and wouldn’t turn her away.
The captain rose from his seat in the pub. “Shall we leave, then?”
“Make your way to the ship. I’ll take another route,” said Raiya. “The less time we spend together, the better.”
The captain nodded before turning and walking away.
Raiya waited a few minutes, pulled her hood back down so her face was completely hidden, and rose from her seat in the corner. Even when she’d pulled her hood back, she’d known that with where she was sitting, the only one who could see her face had been the captain.
Leaving the pub, Raiya walked a block north from the path the Captain had taken to his ship. Her path was longer, winding through back alleys and narrow streets where following her would be near impossible—or so she thought before entering an alley only to find it blocked off by a pair of men. They had been waiting for her.
Behind her came a voice. “I told the lads I recognized you. They didn’t believe me, but when the captain of that ship went into the pub after you, I knew I was right. A former Shadow Brigade bitch fleeing the country like the rat she is. I’m going to love spending the reward we get for bringing you in, but first we’re going to have a little fun.”
Rogue Page 8