The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle

by H. O. Charles

  Two household guards stood wearily at an iron-wrapped entryway, and it was clear that they weren’t being paid enough by di Certa to sleep between shifts. There were no rafters

  here, so Artemi would have to take a more direct approach. She didn’t especially want to kill anyone, and she didn’t have the maturity to wield yet, so more skilled methods would have to be employed.

  From between her breasts, she pulled a glass vial, which she placed above the flame of a nearby torch. The black contents rapidly bubbled, creating condensation within the glass. Artemi peeked around the pillar again, and threw the vial at the wall above the men. It shattered and fell, sending foul black smoke plumes into the air about the guards. They coughed heavily before they dropped to the ground beneath, unconscious. Pinh was pretty terrible stuff to inhale, but was much less likely to kill its victim in such a small dose.

  A large set of keys glinted from one of

  the guards’ belts. Artemi waited for the pinh to settle, and went about extracting her quarry. She tested one key after the other, causing the metal to jangle and echo noisily through the tunnels. The final key on the ring opened the gargantuan strong room door with a very satisfying clunk, and she stepped in to the glittering hoard of misbegotten treasures.

  Some of it, she knew, was legitimately collected taxes. However, some was blood money, bribes or just plain stolen. Artemi grabbed the first few portable things that caught her eye and rapidly stuffed them into the bag. When she lifted the last item, a rather lovely silver and diamond tiara, the pile below it toppled with great clangs and chimes.

  Ice surged up her spine with is stiffening crystals; too much noise had been made. She

  ran swiftly from the strong room, past the comatose guards and back to the main chamber. One of these tunnels led to another gallery, and a way out. But which one was it? Artemi went over the architect’s words again. It was either first or fifth. Low echoes of male voices reached her from the steps to the main house. Someone had heard her.

  The fifth tunnel was Artemi’s hurried choice, and she sprinted down it as fast as she could. Even if they did manage to separate out the earthen footprints, they would never think a woman capable of breaking into their stores. She grinned to herselfand slowed her pace as a second, galleried area became apparent.

  Light moved in the tunnel behind her. Artemi had to find the exit soon or hide. In the far corner, a supplies shaft channelled bright

  white moonlight onto the floor below. It looked promising, and closer inspection revealed that it was a clear route to the surface, but would take an age to shimmy up. She had no choice but to hide. The spaces between the pillars offered the best shadows.

  The guardsmen were drawing closer. They were eerily silent now, but she could see the light loping forwards with their steps. Artemi propped herselfacross two corner columns, and wall-walked up the space between them until she was flat against the ceiling. Her training had given her the endurance to hold such a position for hours, if necessary. She dearly hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  Her four pursuers soon entered the gallery, carrying torches and matching her in

  stealth. There was something odd about the way they were dressed. Their uniform was entirely different from the overly exuberant festivals of embroidery favoured by this household; instead they appeared to be a plain black and green. She knew that the Calidellian army wore such colours, but surely this would be the last place they’d be welcome?

  Artemi held her breath while they searched the area below her. She was not far above their heads, and had her hair been left loose, the men would have had to push it aside to see through it. The taller of them, swathed in a black cloak with green embroidery, strode immediately to the exit shaft and peered into it.

  “If he was here then we’ve missed him, thoughI doubt he’d have had time to climb this. Let’s check the other tunnels,” the man said in

  a low voice. The others bowed and scurried out while he walked swiftly behind them. It was only as he moved out of view that Artemi allowed herselfa small intake of breath. She waited there, not daring to move or breathe again until she was sure it was safe, when a hand grabbed her by the ankle and hauled her down to the floor.

  She let out a small grunt as she hit the ground, but was pinned by her assailant before she could react. He pulled off her headscarf.

  The black-cloaked soldier stared at her in astonishment. She hadn’t been able to see from her vantage point at the ceiling, but her new position allowed her to observe his face. And he was handsome - hero-of-legend, gutachingly handsome. A strong jaw and measured cheekbones sculpted his face, which

  was framed by dark waves of hair and punctuated by bright, intelligent eyes.

  He frowned at her. “You?”

  Just wonderful. That blasted king had made her identity known to every bloody soldier in Calidell! When would she be free of him?

  “What are you doing here?” he whispered. He looked about for the other men, and upon seeing none of them, dragged her behind a wide pillar.

  Artemi spent little time thinking before speaking. “Are you loyal to the king?”

  Her captor looked confused.

  “Tell me, yes or no. Are you loyal to him?” she pressed.

  He nodded, “Yes.” His brow was furrowed, but his eyes conveyed honesty. Then again, Artemi probably would have believed him if he’d said he was an antelope with a chicken’s head and hammers for feet. skies as Artemi gazed up at them. Her only distraction was last year’s harvest stubble, which prodded at her shoulder blades. Her little brother had returned to the house over an hour ago, and the relative tranquillity away from his bubbling chatter had given her an opportunity to consider the man she had met two days earlier.

  Artemi struggled to sit upright, but he would not let her move. She made an exasperated noise at him in protest. “Gadlond and a group of other nobles are plotting to remove him from the throne in three months’ time. They’ve been scheming for years, bribing those the king trusts and searching for holes in his security. I’ve listened in on a few of their meetings but tonight I set my hands on the evidence. It’s in my bag if you must see it.”

  The man loosened his grip on her almost imperceptibly. “Is that so? Why should I believe this?”

  “I’ve seen them talk of it with my own eyes... or ears. ButI needed proof before I

  could take it to the king. There are many of them in this plot: wielder-haters, mostly. And they have mansions full of money to finance their designs.” Artemi paused in anticipation of a response.

  He didn’t release her, or say anything.

  “I wasn’t here for the gold. That was just a distraction. Are you even listening to me?”

  Handsome-face nodded slowly and sat back on his heels. “Show me.”

  She was surprised his soldiers had not missed him in the time they had been speaking, but Artemi proceeded to unhook the leather bag from her newly freed shoulder, dug out the prized binding and handed it to him. At that moment, it was just about her most treasured possession. He began leafing through it calmly

  in the torchlight, giving no indication as to whether he recognised any names.

  “What is your army doing here?”

  He mumbled something obscure about entertaining false hopes, and Artemi did not press further. Finally he looked up and handed the folder back to her. “Artemi, this is not proof. It’s a list of names. There is no declaration of intent here.”

  She sighed. There was no point in keeping any more from him if she wanted to be set free. “I do have... other pieces. ButI can’t very well tell you where I’ve hidden them until I know I can trust you.”

  A sound reached them from farther down the tunnel, signalling that one of the men was coming their way. Artemi hoped her eyes conveyed enough panic to her captor.

  “Fine, keep them hidden for now. I will come to you as soon as I can, and you can show me the rest.” He helped her to her feet and led her to the shaft.

 
; “My lord?” echoed from within the tunnels.

  The lord gave no answer.

  Now that she was standing opposite the man, Artemi felt very small indeed. He looked at her intently from his distant height. “I’ll deal with them. Get out of here, quickly.”

  Artemi did as she was told, made use of a boost from his hands and was soon scaling the narrow chimney to the surface.

  Her instincts told her that he was trustworthy, and after all, Calidell’s soldiers had famously been instrumental in supporting King Morghiad’s accession. But a part of her feared letting someone else into all the secrets she had uncovered. She had made a promise to herself to only tell the king directly, and this man with his pretty face had made her break it.

  It wasn’t that she liked the king especially. After all, he had imprisoned her in

  this estate, had her educated in pointless things, paid off her father and then bound her to his royal highness with this ridiculous betrothal. Why would she ever want to marry a king when they were all the same: overweight, spoilt, lecherous and brainless? True enough, Morghiad was a reformer and had improved Calidell greatly since Acher’s time, but anyone would have looked good next to Acher!

  Thinking of her obligation made her want to part with her breakfast, and most of her lunch. He would surely demand she produce an heir - a process that would surely kill her. Then again, sharing his bed would probably kill her spirit within a few years, and maybe then she would not care if she lived or

  Artemi pushed her mind to think on

  more positive matters: that soldier and his inconceivably well-constructed face. She tried to place him from what she knew of Calidell’s army; he was certainly an officer. Only the highest-ranking men knew where she and her family had been hidden away. Her father had often spoken of General Forllan, but he was supposed to be blond. The army’s captain was reputedly quite short, which could only mean her new acquaintance was a lieutenant. Though, that wasn’t much help since she did not know enough about the lieutenants to put a name to him.

  She sat up and played absent-mindedly with the new shoots that grew at her booted feet. The entire area would be ploughed for replanting in the next few days, and these small weeds would be destroyed. Saving the king

  from a similar fate would not improve her life, but she had to think of the greater good. That was something Sindra liked to remind her of every time she argued against the enforced betrothal, as if marrying a cretin would make him more intelligent!

  Something glinted in the forest that skirted the field. It was still leafless at this time of year, but she could not make out anyone in it. Curiosity peaked, Artemi stood and walked cautiously to the tree line. Rows of larch and oak trees towered above her, casting the warm shade that she had grown to love. The flash of light came again, this time from slightly farther to the right. She broke into a jog up the incline, but kept her sword hand ready. At least she hadn’t worn a dress today. Caala was forever getting angry at her for muddying the wrong

  types of clothing, as if dresses were harder to wash than anything else!

  Artemi slowed as she drew near to where she had seen the glimmer. There was no obvious clue as to the source of the light, and so she darted between the massive tree trunks and leapt from bare root to rock in an effort to remain a quiet, moving target. Finding nothing, she stopped at a particularly large oak to examine the brush around her. A heavy smell of horse struck her, and she realised it must have been from the other side of the tree.

  Artemi drew her sword, and edged around the side of the trunk very slowly. The sight she was soon met by she could not have expected. A tall, grinning man sat atop an intimidating jet-black war horse. How in blazes had he hidden that vast animal?

  “You play amusing games,” the mystery lieutenant said.

  Artemi was speechless. Not only had he out-done her in stalking with an enormous horse, he seemed determined to render her incapable with his smiles. Which fires of Achellon had sought to design such a man that could break any woman’s heart? Or any man’s for that matter? It was utterly unfair that he should look that way!

  He dismounted smoothly and approached her. As he neared, she realised his eyes were a brilliant, glittering green. That was it. Artemi allowed anger to surge in her - anger at him and anger at her improbably hopeless situation. Maybe if she stamped on his foot he’d stop smiling. “You’ve come to see more evidence. Very well. Follow me,” she almost

  spat.

  He reacted immediately to her tone of voice, broad smile diminishing: “Is everything alri-”

  “Yes, everything is just wonderful, thank you. Or it would be if it wasn’t for him, and now you!” Artemi trod noisily through the brown undergrowth, and did not look back to check if he had followed.

  He had. “My Lady D’Avrohan, you should probably know tha-”

  “I am not a lady anything! I’m a soldier’s daughter. If it wasn’t for that blasted man putting us all here, I’d be merrily going about my business as an ordinary, boring woman! None of this plotting-scuppering nonsense and certainly not an aristocrat.”

  The lieutenant caught up with her, his

  great mount walking lazily at his side. “You mean the... the, ah, king?”

  “Who else? What other sort of man would think he could reserve a woman for himselfwithout even meeting her? Clearly I am to be kept prisoner, and then used for whatever foul purposes he has arranged.” She stomped on a dry-looking twig to punctuate her sentence.

  “Perhaps he was trying to protect you,” the man ventured.

  What sort of logic was that? “Why protect a woman he doesn’t know? And I hardly think it was for my good over his! Everyone knows kings are selfish. And fat. They’re all famous for being corpulent and uglier than their lackeying courtiers would have everyone else believe. Not that a wielder has a

  great deal of choice, of course... Presumptuous man!”

  Her companion stayed quiet for a moment, his expression distant. “Have you not had a good life here, Artemi?”

  The man had a point. Corlands was a handsome home, and it had been fun learning how to fight, especially against those who underestimated her. Her anger calmed in spite of her wish to keep it burning. “My childhood could have been much worse. That is true.”

  “If you dislike him so much, why have you gone to such lengths as raiding di Certa’s house to help him?”

  Artemi stopped walking. “Because it’s fun. And I suppose it is the right thing to do. Why are you loyal to him?”

  The lieutenant did not meet her eyes,

  instead opting to look at the leaf-covered floor. “I have no choice.” Even in deep reflection the blasted man looked too pretty for his own good.

  Artemi softened her tone. It was possible he knew what it was like to be a prisoner of the king. “I don’t even know your name.”

  His expression was dark. “Maybe it is best for now that you don’t.”

  Artemi did not question his secrecy, and resumed her walk to one of the hiding places at the far side of the wood. She could hear the soft sound of the horse’s hooves behind her, though his owner remained entirely silent for the rest of the trek.

  Before long, they reached a gnarled shell of an ancient tree. It was an excellent

  place for hiding things, and Green-Eyes regarded her quizzically.

  Artemi concealed a small smile and walked up to a different, rather healthy tree some yards away. She scaled five of the larger branches, drew a scroll from a hollow above her head and added a few acrobatic moves to her descent. Showing off in front of him really wasn’t appropriate in such a situation, but she savoured the raised eyebrow he gave her. He took the parchment gently and sat, legs crossed, at his horse’s feet. Artemi joined him, getting as close as she dared. The man smelled faintly of fresh soap and leather. It was a very good smell.

  “Hmm,” was all he said once he’d finished reading.

  “This

  was at Lord Veradlin’s house,”

&n
bsp; she said.

  The lieutenant’s expression did not alter. “Bracon. I thought he was a friend.”

  Artemi nodded. “His name is on the list you saw the other night. I believe he is financing this heavily.”

  “I suppose his missing horses had something to do with you, as well?” the man asked in a deadpan voice.

  She could not help but grin. That had been quite an achievement.

  His face grew serious. “This is not a game anymore. It is dangerous. I don’t want you breaking into another house.”

  “You are not my father.”

  He compressed his improbably well sculpted lips. “No, butI know him. And I believe he would not approve of your...

  outings, either.”

  Artemi clenched her jaw tightly. “If you are so willing to speak to him then why did you sneak in through the woods?”

  “Toryn would not approve of my visiting you. But if I feel your safety is at risk thenI shall have to inform him.”

  That was intriguing. What had this man done to cause her father to dislike him? He seemed trustworthy enough, didn’t he? Perhaps he was a serial womaniser, and that would make sense, given his looks. This man had to have a flaw somewhere. “Then it will remain our secret.”