Andalon Arises

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Andalon Arises Page 29

by T B Phillips


  “He’s a high-profile prisoner, Captain. We take every necessary precaution.” The soldier paused to open the door with a large brass key.

  Adamas gasped when he saw the sight behind the door. The page boy sent to deliver the message lay bound on the ground, gagged and unable to move. Nevra knelt over him, a short metal shiv placed over the boy’s heart. A red-eyed rat sat calmly perched on Stefan’s shoulder, staring down at the messenger.

  “It’s not long, but it will serve the purpose on one so small.” The prisoner shook his head mournfully. “It seems somehow wrong to kill the messenger.” With a single motion the sharp metal spike drove deep into the child’s heart.

  Creech leaped forward but the guards abruptly grabbed him from both sides, pressing him down on the ground. One of them stepped forward and produced a long dagger. “Use his own, My Lord.”

  The lunatic standing over the boy giggled with glee as he carefully accepted the blade. He eyed the captain with strange lust as he undid the buttons on his jacket, placing the tip of the point just below his breastbone. “I should have killed you before instead of entrusting that task to Pogue. At least now you will have no choice but to finally serve me.”

  Adamas felt the cold steel enter his chest and the room fell dark.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Hester fought back her frustration. She had hoped that Braen would be excited to see her, but he was too melancholy over his leather-clad nymph, Eusari. Worse, he refused to speak with her alone and had pointedly been avoiding her. She felt her belly, thank god it won’t show for another month. She was running out of time and would have to try a different approach.

  Her first stop was to find Delilah. The older woman was in the kitchens, mixing a tea for Samani Kernigan who sat back in a chair with feet on the table. They abruptly stopped talking when she entered. So, they share secrets as well? “What are you two planning?”

  “Nothing, dearie. Samani and I go way back.” Delilah looked down at her concoction, making a quick end to that line of questions.

  “I was looking for that drink you had prepared for me.”

  “You’ll have to see Gretchen for that.”

  Hester let out an impatient sigh and then stormed from the room. Halfway down the hall she stopped, then crept back to listen at the door. She was quickly rewarded with more than she had hoped when she heard Kernigan ask, “So, everything is going as planned back home?”

  “Yes. The Dragon has stepped up bombings against the Astian Council, and those blowhards are afraid to leave their compounds. His agents are in every factory and commune, stirring dissent and promising redistribution of wealth.”

  “Then, it’s almost time for him to return so that we can begin the second phase.”

  Delilah agreed, “Yes. It won’t be long before we can get the destroyer in place.” Hester watched as the woman drifted toward the man, wrapping her arms around his shoulders with an embrace.

  “Soon, we’ll be able to launch the revolution and return home to a victory.” Kernigan placed his hand atop hers in a surprisingly intimate display of familiarity.

  The northern witch responded with a soft kiss on his ear. “Do you truly believe that he’s the prophesied one? You’re confident in this?”

  “I do. He matches the description perfectly from the few Ka’ash’mael visions that have seen him.”

  Delilah stood and began reciting a strange sort of poetry. “Come, witness their salvation! Rise the Kraken from the depths, dealing destruction and slaughter. Watch him destroy our legacy.”

  “On land the monster roars and walks, death surrounds in light and shadow. Destroy the seed before it roots. Emotions of water but born of land, lord of beast and friend of man. All forces of nature have awakened, chaos sown without distinction. No longer controlled by boundaries, siblings consume each other.”

  Hester watched as Delilah returned to a pot of boiling water, ladling tea into a cup before saying, “Don’t forget the rest.” She handed her lover a cup.

  “How could I?” He blew on the hot liquid then sipped before continuing, “Pain and suffering early known, raised a king without a crown. Life of misery, death not binding.”

  “And you’re positive it’s him?” Hester heard the old woman scoot a chair to sit with Samani.

  He replied, “We’ve spent our life’s work seeking him out. I’m certain it’s him.”

  There was more, but Hester moved away down the hall. She quickly found Gretchen in her room writing in a journal. The girl raised her head when the queen approached. “It’s on the nightstand. Give it to him in strong wine for maximum effect.”

  “It had better work.”

  “He’ll be asleep, but aware enough for you to convince him.” The girl finished talking and looked back down at her writing. Hester took that as a dismissal and departed.

  She tried once more to find Braen. After several minutes of searching, she finally cornered him in a hallway. She forced him to make eye contact. “Why are you avoiding me?”

  He peeled his eyes from hers and glanced impatiently down the hallway. “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.” She placed her hand on his arm and stretched her neck to get in front of his gaze “You’re acted like you’ve never loved me.”

  “I did, for a time.”

  “What’s different, Braen?”

  “Well, for one you’re married to my brother.”

  “No longer. I’ve left him.” She smiled in a disarming way, hoping to put him at ease. “At least admit that the feelings are there.”

  “Of course they’re there, Hester! Not a day went by for two years that I didn’t think about the life we should have had! Not a night passed that I didn’t mourn your memory or dream of your perfume!”

  “Then love me now, Braen.”

  “I can’t. My heart belongs to Eusari and I won’t be unfaithful. She deserves loyalty for the first time in her life, and I aim to keep my promises.”

  She was irritated by his chivalry, but feigned understanding. “Then I won’t pursue you any longer, Braen.” She dropped her eyes to the ground and walked away with her most convincing crestfallen air. Although she didn’t turn around to check, she was certain that he watched her leave before entering his war room.

  While he made plans with the boy king and the other pirates, she slipped out of the palace and made her way to the docks. Men scurried, setting about preparations to get underway. They were so busy loading crates and tying lines that no one noticed her slip aboard Malfeasance. From there it was easy to find his stateroom. She tried the door and it opened without complaint. Once inside, she set up the room and found a wardrobe in which to hide. Then Hester waited.

  “So, it’s decided then?” Braen asked the question while looking directly at Robert.

  “Yes. Captain Creech and I will take thirty ships and a contingent of Dreamers to Eskera.” He tapped his quill on the parchment as he ticked off each item. “We’ll move north to Weston, retaking the city by force and await you and Eusari. Then we’ll move on Loganshire and later Eston. Meanwhile, your forces at Estowen’s Landing will attack the Logan river and harass convoys in the area.”

  Samani Kernigan rushed into the room, slamming the door loudly and getting the attention of everyone in the room. “We just received a message from Estowen’s Landing!”

  Braen watched the man with expectation then asked, “And?”

  “Their northern fleet is grounded!”

  “How’s that possible?” Robert sat up stiffly in his seat.

  “Yes,” Braen asked, “how?”

  “Apparently, two emotants escaped several Falconers by dropping the western bridge across the River Logan! That re-routed the current around the city, and their entire fleet is stuck in the mud!”

  Braston turned his attention back to Robert. “That changes things. You should reconno
iter with Shon Wembley in Estowen’s Landing and attack Eston straight away!”

  The boy looked thoughtful. His general leaned forward and whispered into his ear. The king nodded, then addressed the others. “We can’t act on intelligence that we haven’t confirmed for ourselves.”

  Braen glared at the young king with irritation, then asked in a calm voice, “Are you both complete idiots?”

  General Reeves stood in defiance. “What are you implying, Braston?”

  “I’m not implying anything. I’m plainly stating that you raised this boy as an overly cautious tactician.” Braen kept his voice low and calm as he spoke, “And if you don’t take this opportunity, then the war is prolonged and Robert risks letting his kingdom slip farther out of his hands.”

  Robert Esterling found his regal bearing when he answered, “It’s about trust. You are the son of Krist Braston and the brother of Skander. My experience with you so far is that our alliance is tenuous. You never act unless it lends you the advantage.”

  “I am not my family.”

  “No, but you would benefit from feeding me false information and then surrounding me with an army loyal only to you. I will rule the empire, Braston, not you. Your ambitions are buried too shallow and were easily exposed.”

  Everyone in the room stared at Braen, awaiting his response. He sat quiet for a time, then raised his glass, turning the wine against the light. He inspected its hue for several seconds, admiring the composition. When he finally spoke, he did so deliberately. “Everyone I’ve met since fleeing Fjorik has tried to push ambition on me, but I’ve rejected each and every opportunity.” He downed the contents of the glass then added, “Now you accuse me of being over ambitious.” Reaching across the table he plucked a bottle and refilled his drink. “No one has ever, in all that time, asked me what I truly want for myself.”

  Robert took a moment to refill his own glass then asked, “What do you want, Braen Braston, Son of Krist?”

  “I want my father back from the dead, for one. Then I want my brother cured of the madness that afflicts his mind. I want my mother, who died in his childbirth, to have survived and raised Skander as she reared me.”

  “I can’t provide either of those, what do you want for yourself?”

  Braen’s serious eyes locked on Robert’s with intensity and answered, “Not a gods damned thing.” He gestured around, “I didn’t want The Cove, but duty obliged that I take it and make it better. I don’t want Fjorik. The north holds too much of my melancholy and would remind me daily of what’s been ripped away.” He tipped the glass all the way back and drank the rest of his wine before adding, “And I certainly don’t want your precious empire. When this is over, grant me a large plot of land in Loganshire on which Eusari and I can retire. Hell, maybe we’ll raise children and vineyards.”

  “I think I finally believe you, Braston.” Robert again refilled his glass and added, “But we’re not ready to attack Norton. I’ll return to Eskera to find the deserters and then move on Weston.”

  “By Cinder’s Crack, Esterling!” Braen pounded his fist on the table, spilling drinks and causing everyone to jump in sudden fear. More calmly he said, “Take what you need and whoever will join you.” He scanned the other shocked faces. “What about each of you? Who’s coming with me? Who’s going with him and who’s helping Shon?”

  Adamas Creech cleared his throat and addressed the boy king. “I’m sorry, but I agree with Braston. I’ll assist him in Middleton against Skander.”

  Robert nodded. “I understand.”

  Amash Horslei answered next, “Alec and I spoke. He and Marita are going to free Mattie and the girls, and I need to get to Weston.” To Robert he said, “I’ll still assist, if you can get me inside my city.” The young king responded with a nod.

  Braen addressed Horslei, “I’ve had a gift sent down to Desperation, one that would be useful for Alec when the time comes. Ensure he gets it and also the gold to ransom back Mattie. Tell him to remember our earlier conversations and to retire with his family. I’d remind him myself, but I’m getting underway at first light.”

  Samani turned toward Braen and cautioned, “Don’t underestimate your brother when you find him.”

  “You’ll not come with me to see this end?”

  “No, Friend. I have to meet with contacts who are arriving in Estowen’s Landing. Delilah and I will travel together. You and I can meet up, later, after this is all finished.”

  Braen stood and adjourned the meeting. “Then it’s settled.” Without another word, he strode from the room, letting the door slam. Once in the hallway, he remembered Hester. Shit, he thought, I don’t want to sleep in the same palace as her. He decided the best chance for rest would be on board Malfeasance and made his way to the docks.

  While he walked, he thought about Eusari. I’ve got to find her. She left because she believes that I love Hester more. That was the problem with loving two women, and he had realized that he would always have feelings for both.

  The activity on the pier had died down considerably, but many of his crewmen were making preparations to get underway. He spotted Krill. “Quiet night, Friend?”

  “Aye. We all be hungry to fight Skander and avenge your father, Cap’n.”

  Braen placed his hand on the gunnery sergeant’s shoulder and looked him in the eye, pointedly avoiding the painted patch on his other. “What will you do after all this is done and I retire, Cedric?”

  “How kin you even ask such a question, Cap’n?” A frown crossed the gunner’s face, “And why’re you using my given name?”

  “Because this is finally a time to be serious. This is it, and I’m done. As soon as we deal with my brother I’m settling down. Robert Esterling can finish the fight.”

  Cedric Krull abruptly dropped his smile and spoke deliberately, “Braen, you know that I will always be at your side. You can always count on both Sippen and I, till the end and beyond.” A tear formed in the sailor’s eye as he spoke, “Besides, you’ll need me on that farm of yours to keep the farmhands in line.”

  “Just don’t call them ‘turd chasers,’ that means something else to landlubbers.”

  Suddenly jovial, Krill smiled and responded, “Aye. That it do!” Braen laughed as his friend winked his eye.

  He was still smiling when he entered his stateroom. Someone had set out a snack and a bottle of 754. Thoughtful Sippen, he thought as he pulled the cork. He breathed the aroma deeply, taking in the rich bouquet. He poured some, then swirled the liquid in his glass, watching the legs drip down the back. Before he sipped, he again breathed in the luscious accents, honoring the masterpiece that would someday be gone from the world. What a shame that will be when the world is robbed of one of its greatest treasures.

  He alternated sipping from the glass and preparing for bed. He carefully placed his boots near the foot of his rack, a tradition of seafarers always ready for battle. Then he deliberately removed his clothing, folding each item separately and placing it on a nearby chair. When he was finished, he realized how tired he really was. Braen yawned deeply as slumber quickly overtook him. Within minutes the bearded captain slept.

  Sleep comes to us in different forms. It evades some and overly consumes others. In a perfect form, the act restores and refreshes our bodies so that we can function daily in a stressful world. But there are some who dread this function of body to such a degree that it provides no benefit save the eventual awakening from terror. I am speaking of dreams.

  Braen was no stranger to them, and one particular nightmare burdened his sleep far too long. It plagued his nights and antagonized his mornings. He both yearned for it and lived with anxiety that it would arrive. The man enjoyed no respite, since there was no escaping when it arrived. The dream always began with the scent of lilac.

  Braen walked hand in hand with Hester, taking in the soft aroma of her perfume. He had given her the scent, hav
ing found a small case aboard a sloop bound for Middleton. She wore it on that special day, specifically for him, and both lovers hoped that they would soon take their relationship to a higher level. That is, unless shyness won out over their young nerves.

  They made their way down to their favorite picnic spot. The tulips would be in bloom, and he had promised her a surprise. “Keep your eyes closed, but don’t trip on any rocks.”

  She laughed with excitement, “I’m trying to! Stop making me laugh!” She didn’t keep them closed, however, and sneaked adoring peeks at him with his patchy beard. It was nothing more than tufts of blonde fur. She tugged one of these.

  “Ouch! That hurts!” They both laughed.

  “When do I get to see my surprise?” She asked, staring into his blazing blue eyes.

  He would never forget how she looked in that moment with sun reflecting off her yellow hair, so long that it reached the middle of her back. He touched the fine strands, marveling at the softness that rivaled only her skin. “You can see it now.” He gestured over her shoulder and smiled as she turned to look.

  During the end of the past spring, he had dug up hundreds of yellow tulip bulbs from another meadow. He had kept them frozen through winter and replanted them here among the field of red blossoms. She gasped when she read the message, “I love you, Hester!”

  Tears of joy filled her eyes as she realized how intricately he had planned and worked on the gift. “I love you, too, Braen!” She wrapped her arms around him, and they kissed so passionately that they fell to the ground. They laughed and giggled as they rolled in the field, until Hester climbed astride his hips. Although suddenly shy, he allowed his body to react to the pressure of hers. Feeling him, she responded by slowly unbuttoning her blouse, smiling at the shocked expression on his face.

  Braen lay on the soft grass, eyes closed with a gentle spring wind brushing against his face. He breathed in deeply, smiling widely as the breeze brought soft lilac to his nose. He held that breath in, praying to the gods that he would never forget both this moment and her scent.

 

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