He made it to the Queen’s rooms in record time. He’d been here in the past, simply scouting. Now, he’d need to get inside.
He settled against a wall to wait. Within the hour, the next shift of guards approached. After relieving the current guards on duty, the replacements moved inside to check on their charge.
Raimie deftly slipped in behind them before the door closed. He waited patiently for them to return to their post before beginning his search. He had about half an hour before his own guard change, and he wanted to be back in bed before then.
The foyer was completely empty of anything of value since it was the most likely place for thieves to gain easy access. Three doors led off of it.
Raimie opened the first and immediately closed it. The tiny room beyond had been stuffed with dresses, accessories, and underclothes. He firmly did not think about what Kaedesa would look like wearing some of the black, lacy things inside.
He moved on to the second door. This was obviously the main room considering the desk covered in ink and paper, the vanity with all of its jewels and makeup, and the giant four-poster bed in the center of it all. Kaedesa slept, almost buried in covers and pillows, with her chestnut hair splayed on the pillow above her head.
“You should go in there and show her you’re a man and not a child,” Dim suggested loudly.
Raimie rolled his eyes and quietly closed the door.
You’re disgusting, he pointedly thought.
Dim cackled.
He opened the last door and allowed some of the tension to bleed away. Dozens of long cases of weapons lined the floor with a multitude of like displays on the walls. He carefully inspected each, his admiration growing with every encased weapon. The last display in the room stood empty, and Raimie’s hands balled into fists. It seemed today’s excursion had been worthless. Shadowsteal was missing.
As he turned to leave, he noted that one of the curtains on the far wall didn’t hang quite right and the ground beneath it had been cleared of the dust coating the ground. Curious, he swept it to the side. As he’d suspected, a window didn’t lie on the other side. Instead, he found a tall bookcase packed with thin journals.
He cracked a slit in the midsection of his bubble and flipped through one of those lean diaries. Lines of text written in a feminine hand filled it. Hundreds of the journal’s twins rested on the shelves. Why would the Queen write so much, and why did she keep so many of the used up journals? Most importantly, why would she hide it?
Lost in his curiosity, Raimie almost missed the weapon hidden between the bookshelf and the wall. Replacing his current to a shelf, he snatched the blade up, relieved to recover the sword his friend had given him. A note fluttered to the ground from Silverblade’s hilt.
Raimie, it read, congratulations on sneaking into the most protected rooms in the kingdom undetected. I don’t know how you’ve done it, but I’ve thoroughly enjoyed hearing of your antics for the past few months. The sight of my outraged librarians gave me a particularly long laugh.
I write this note in the hopes that you find it soon. You see, I’ve grown quite fond of you in the time we’ve spent together. Your intelligence, ingenuity, and wit put my courtiers to shame. I would hate to deprive the world of such a talented young person, but I’m afraid it’s what I must soon do.
Outside forces are pressuring me to get rid of the ‘rebels’ in my house. I put it like that because I’m no longer certain that is what you are. You have thoroughly instilled doubt in me, but I’m having trouble doing the same to those baying for your blood.
Thus, this note. My hope is that soon you’ll come to collect that which is yours and upon finding it missing, you’ll discover this instead. I know it’s not the blade you’d wished for, but it’s what I can surrender given the circumstances.
Raimie, please heed my words. Flee now while you can. Leave the old man. He’s not who you think. I beg you. Preserve the safety of your own life first.
I thank you for the most diverting few months I’ve had in years.
-Kaedesa
Raimie dropped the note and ran. He burst through the guarded door, heedless of the consequences, and took off down the hallway. He had enough good sense to pull the concealing bubble closed, but he disregarded every other stealth precaution he’d previously taken. If sound did carry through the bubble, then his slapping feet could be heard by every guard in the vicinity.
He barreled across the palace, passing the occasional guard standing at attention. He was glad night had fallen else he’d be dodging lords and ladies as he ran. As it was, the corridors and cavernous halls were deserted, allowing him easy passage to the wing where his room was located.
Raimie pitied the lone guard watching the room. Security had grown lax since the first weeks he and Eledis had arrived at the palace, dropping from a full squad of five guards to the single man or woman who happened to pull the unlucky straw that day. He wasn’t sure if the loosening security was because the palace guard had accepted the impossibility that was keeping their young prisoner encaged or if the Queen had purposefully ordered it, but today’s sentry deserved his pity because he knew the guard would be found unconscious in the morning.
Raimie never relented in his sprint as he came closer. He dropped his hold on the bubble concealing him, and it fell away with a snap. The guard started at the appearance of the resolved young man charging him and attempted to draw his pistol, but it was too late. Raimie’s fist connected with his temple, and he followed the sentry’s uncontrolled crash to the floor.
Panting from the long run, Raimie pushed two fingers into the guard’s neck. Satisfied the man would live another day, he hurried into his room.
“Eledis, get up! I hope your plan’s come together because we need to leave right no-”
His voice choked off at the sight of the military man casually standing above Eledis as if waiting for something. The stranger shifted his eyes from him to Eledis and back again.
“Hello there,” he growled with a deep voice. “You must be Raimie.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I cannot live under the control of a god whose sole aim is to destroy all of creation.
Kheled tiredly entered the safe house, pulling off the hood and straightening fully. He stretched out the kinks in his spine acquired from hunching all day. His height gave him some small advantages in life, but it was definitely not an asset when one was attempting to blend.
“Ash, have you heard from Gistrick?” he called up the stairs. “How’d it go today?”
When no one answered, he grinned. If everyone was out, maybe he could practice his sword forms without worrying about revealing how good he was. His skills had gotten rusty over the years serving as Allanovian’s Zrelnach healer, but the weeks spent training Raimie had helped to brush them back off. He’d yet to find a time to really go all out, however, and he itched to stretch to the limits of his capabilities.
He took the stairs to his room two at a time in order to retrieve his weapons. Whistling softly, he idly wondered how the others were doing.
He’d lost track of exactly how much time had passed since Raimie’s capture, a fact that had not been lost on Aramar. The man’s anxiety over his son had spiraled out of control. He constantly reminded the others of exactly how many months, weeks, days, and hours had passed since the Queen took Raimie into her clutches and accused them of refusing to do everything in their power to get him back. The accusation was, frankly, complete bull.
Gistrick had poured his efforts into recruiting Zrelnach uneasy with Ferin’s leadership to Raimie’s cause. At the same time, he’d weaseled into the good graces of the commander herself. Every day he plunged into camp, he risked discovery of his ‘treason’, but thanks to the one-armed man, a significant number of Zrelnach troops were sworn back to Raimie, ready to serve once their oath to their commander was released.
Aramar had grudgingly contributed in his own way. Because of his disability, he could pass as a beggar of the city. It k
illed him to beg for the leavings of others, but he’d admitted that it was easy to overhear the city’s darkest secrets when everyone ignored you because you were insignificant enough to stay below people’s notice.
The secrets and rumors helped Kheled with his own self-assigned tasks. He worked to destabilize Queen Kaedesa’s designs on Sev and also to build up the over taxed, worn down, average citizens of Sev.
The first goal was a desperate attempt to distract the Queen from his friend. If she was forced to work harder to acquire the port city, Kheled hoped she’d ignore Raimie and Eledis for a time.
The second goal was purely selfish. He’d long anguished over what Sev’s citizens dealt with on a daily basis while he’d gone on to live in comfort within the sanctuary of Allanovian. Now that he actually had the resources to do something about it, he was determined to relieve their suffering even if only temporarily.
The two tasks, coincidentally, went hand in hand. The happier the average citizens were with their current system of government, the less likely they were to accept a change. The fact that the sitting governor was so unpopular lent heavily to the Queen’s favor in acquiring the city.
The concept that Sev’s governor didn’t seem to comprehend was that if you taxed your population base so heavily that they had no money to spend on excess luxuries, the economy withered. Businesses that previously catered to unnecessary extravagances such as master tailors and goldsmiths died a slow death while people clung to every chit in order to survive. Employees of these failed businesses joined the beggars on the street who couldn’t contribute to society in any significant way, further distressing the system and dragging the economy into shambles. And so the cycle went until either the city failed or the populace revolted.
With the governor’s focus on the problem of keeping his citizens safe from the dangers of pirates, he’d forgotten those of poverty.
Despite his misgivings about the governor’s policies, Kheled didn’t want to destabilize Sev’s government. In fact, he needed it in a strong bargaining position with the Queen. Instead, he focused his efforts on the opulent merchant houses that preyed on the port city’s vulnerability. Sev couldn’t levy or tax the merchants’ imports without risking the revenue the vultures brought in, so Kheled would do it for the city.
To affect improvements for all of Sev’s populace, he resorted to less than legal means. He’d found it hilarious that his return to the city had immediately thrown him back into the profession he’d taken in order to survive as a child. Sneaking into homes was much more difficult now that his body had fully matured, but even with that obstacle, he had no trouble robbing from the ridiculously wealthy merchant houses who’d headquartered in Sev.
Most of the time, he only took information relevant to shipments to and from Kaedesa’s seat of power, but occasionally, he’d lift particularly valuable items to be sold on the black market. The proceeds were infused into the economy via investments in small businesses and gradual distribution among the city’s destitute.
He’d even made a few raids on the houses with members of Ashella’s gang. They relieved the merchants of grain to feed the starving masses and weapons for use in other aspects of the plan.
Creation had been appalled at Kheled’s chosen behavior in the last few months, and he’d dragged his feet when assisting with his Eselan’s endeavors. Kheled didn’t mind. He was used to disappointing and disgusting his splinter. He’d been doing it since they’d first met.
He didn’t, however, solely resort to illegal means to assist the citizenry, although his other methods might be considered quasi-legal at best. Using weapons and armor taken from the merchants, he’d armed those of the populace who’d resorted to thieving and whoring in order to survive. He’d spent most of his days in intense training sessions with these men and women, making sure they had at least a basic understanding of combat before declaring them fit for duty.
They would join the poorly staffed city guard to rebuff pirate attacks before fading into the background once the attack was defeated. In showing them that they could defend themselves when needed, Kheled hoped to lay the groundwork for a volunteer citizen’s army. If the average citizen aided in the defense of the city-state, maybe the cost of defense would lessen which would allow taxes to be lowered.
Ashella was the last member of their tiny alliance. She helped solely from a sense of loyalty to Kheled, only performing a task for the group if the Eselan asked for her help. He’d assigned her and her spy network to gather any and all information regarding Raimie and the Queen. Her purpose was to determine when and how a rescue would be possible and to inform him as soon as she had even the weakest of plans so that he could gather whatever resources would be necessary to undertake it. So far, she hadn’t uncovered much of use. She constantly assured Kheled that his friend was safe, embarrassed to admit that she had no plan.
Kheled didn’t blame her. He knew how difficult it would be to retrieve a prisoner of such value from Daira itself, and he didn’t expect her to make much progress. He had some semblance of an idea in any case, but it would be a suicide mission. He wanted to ensure Raimie had a power base to return to before he left Sev to rescue his friend.
Still whistling, he reached the top of the stairs, turned into his room, and pulled to a halt. Gistrick, Aramar, and Ashella all waited within. Gistrick and Aramar rested comfortably on his thin mattress while Ash shifted uncomfortably in the corner.
“There you are!” Kheled exclaimed cheerily to hide his apprehension. “How did everything go today?”
“We can give you our reports later. First, we need to talk,” Gistrick said sternly, gesturing to a chair the healer had somehow missed.
“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” Kheled asked without budging.
“Sit down!” Aramar barked before softening his tone. “Please.”
Kheled dropped his smile and all pretense of civility.
“Fine,” he murmured, drifting to the chair and gracefully folding into it.
The other occupants of the room were left speechless by the change in demeanor, and he tapped his foot exasperatedly.
“You were going to tell me what this is about,” he prompted.
Gistrick shook himself and sat up straighter.
“We’ve all discussed it and come to the conclusion that something needs to change, Khel,” he began.
The healer cocked his head at the familiarity with his name. When had the older Zrelnach moved past the disdain and disgust that typically exemplified his comrades’ attitudes toward him?
“Your initial plan has done wonders, exceeding every expectation, but it’s time to move on to the next phase,” Gistrick finished.
Kheled wordlessly stared at each of them in turn.
“You all agree with him?” he asked coldly.
Ashella hesitantly cleared her throat.
“You’ve done what you can for Sev, Khel. They have enough of an advantage to take care of themselves, and if you keep going as you are, taking on the most powerful businesses and families in the city, you’re going to get caught,” she explained pleadingly. “You wouldn’t believe some of the reports my spies bring me about what they want to do to yo-”
“I won’t get caught,” Kheled calmly interrupted.
Ashella chuckled indulgently.
“I remember your skills, and you aren’t that good. Besides, everyone gets caught eventually….”
She faltered at the healer’s self-assured expression.
“Even if you’re never caught,” she continued resolutely, “the people helping you with your extra-legal affairs are sure to eventually attract the long arm of the law.”
Kheled inclined his head in assent.
“I was prepared for that eventuality.”
“Meaning what exactly?” Ashella asked heatedly. “Are you prepared to sacrifice those who would lend you aid?”
“No,” Kheled responded patiently, “I simply expected to free any who happened to catch t
he authorities’ eye.”
Ashella’s mouth clamped closed. She indicated that Gistrick should take his turn.
“I’ve recruited everyone who’s willing to align with Raimie, and I’ve gotten closer to Ferin than Issim was back home. I think she underestimates me because of this,” he gestured to his missing limb.
“Are those you’ve recruited aware that they’ll need to swear fealty to Raimie to absolve them of their betrayal?” Kheled asked curiously.
Gistrick paused uncertainly.
“Yes, they all know,” he answered, “but they’re also afraid that Eledis will take advantage of that oath to punish them when all they did was follow a trusted leader’s orders.”
“Don’t worry about Eledis,” Kheled responded tightly. “Raimie shall be made aware of his grandfather’s machinations if he isn’t already.”
“Either way, there’s nothing left for me to do,” Gistrick said.
“You know who murdered Zetaneb?” the healer asked venomously.
Gistrick hesitated.
“I’ve compiled a list,” he said uncertainly.
“Good,” Kheled turned his attention to Aramar. “And you? What are your arguments?”
Raimie’s father shrugged.
“I’m only worried for my son. We’re lucky the Queen hasn’t executed him yet. It’s been months, Khel. We should’ve put a rescue operation together by now.”
“I have a plan to get Raimie out,” Kheled told the other man.
Aramar bolted upright.
“What?! Why haven’t you implemented it yet?”
“I wanted to ensure that when Raimie’s returned to you, he’ll never have to deal with betrayal again,” Kheled answered with a shrug. “It’s something he shouldn’t need to worry about when he faces Doldimar.”
“Still, you’ve had this plan for what? Weeks? Months?” Aramar asked as his face reddened. “What if something had happened to him?”
Kheled shot to his feet and advanced on the older human until he loomed over him.
The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1) Page 45