The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle

by H. O. Charles

  “If you keep smiling like that, people will know that you’ve been visiting her,” Silar whispered. At least it meant she hadn’t gone quite so missing as her father had feared. That had taken a measured response of feigned ignorance and reassuring calm.

  The king made a poor effort at tempering his emotions, and placed a hand on his friend’s arm. “I have learned much about our little problem, Silar.”

  “You could really do with a wash, sire. Clothes, too.”

  Morghiad seemed to find that very funny indeed. “You’re right. I’ll see you in your rooms within the hour.”

  “Ah...

  perhaps that’s not such a good

  idea. I have a... a problem visitor.”

  Morghiad nodded enthusiastically. “Excellent. I’d very much like to meet her.” How had he worked out it was a she? Silar hadn’t become that predictable in his old age, had he?

  True to his word, a clean-shaven and well-scrubbed Morghiad arrived at the Silar’s chambers before the hour was complete. He took a seat opposite the now-bedraggled Lady Tanacet, who glared at him from under her brow, only growling quietly.

  Morghiad tilted his head and crossed his ankles. “So you’re part of this wonderful plan, correct?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He moved his green eyes to Silar. “Has she told you about Reduvi yet?”

  Myrte snapped her head up at that name.

  Silar sighed. She had been surprisingly tough to crack. “Please enlighten me, my lord.”

  Morghiad pulled a small, black booklet from inside his coat pocket, which Silar immediately recognised. He remembered his mother keeping it locked in her desk, in a drawer he was never allowed near. “Where did you find that?”

  “At Reduvi’s house. He owns the bank your mother used. He’ll miss it before long, so we’ll have to move quickly.” Morghiad handed the book to Silar.

  He opened it carefully. The contents were coded, but it was just as he had feared. Every name, address and description of her network was listed in the book - a network

  upon which his own was founded. It would take years to rebuild after this slip, decades! He rubbed at his jaw. “Well, that helps me an awful lot. Reduvi doesn’t know we have this?”

  Morghiad pressed his lips. “He didn’t when we took it. He almost certainly will have a decoded copy of his own, but it is only a matter of time before he connects the loss of the original with a visit from a certain young lady.”

  What sort of reconnaissance had those two been engaging in? Silar needed a better picture of his personality. “What sort of man is this Reduvi?”

  “He wanders his quiet town surrounded by twenty guards, he is arrogant, wealthy from his work, believes himselfto have more wit than he does and he thinks he has a way with

  women.” Morghiad twisted his mouth at the last

  part.

  Silar nodded and performed a quick

  reconstruction in his mind. “Good. I think he

  might deny anyone else had stolen his property

  from under his nose in order to preserve his

  pride. If he knows, we have no reason to

  believe he will warn the rest of his group.”

  Their discussion moved onto the

  meeting at which Veradlin had spoken, and the

  matter of the army.

  “Veradlin claims I have abandoned

  them, that they are disillusioned,” the king said,

  and his worry was betrayed by his tone.

  “I’m not sure the problem is quite so

  dire as he described. Our lieutenants are

  untainted, I can tell you that for certain,” Silar

  ignored the odd noises coming from Myrte.

  “And Koviere wouldn’t turn if you offered to bathe him in a lake of beer with a thousand naked women. No, there are five sergeants I’ve come to suspect; and several of their soldiers.” Sergeants he’d trusted with his life.

  Morghiad looked only marginally relieved. Their secret was safe from the schemers, but the army was still close to the king’s heart. Any infiltration would hurt him considerably. “We may be able to find a more diplomatic method of dealing with those men. Army business, after all.”

  ...Was army business. Silar completed the sentence internally. Though, as General, he knew for certain that there weren’t any secrets of consequence kept from this particular king.

  “There’s something else,” Morghiad said slowly. “I’m not sure what to make of this, but Veradlin claims to be using Sky Bridges.”

  Silar almost fell off his chair. “Sky Bridges? You’re telling me they exist now?”

  Lady Tanacet looked at them both with a sneer. “Set me free, and I’ll show you where to find one.”

  Silar scowled back at her. “You are not having your freedom, Myrte. It’s too late and you’ve been of little use to me. Shall we put her in the cells? I can’t keep her stinking body in my room for much longer.”

  Morghiad nodded. “A few hundred years in the cells should educate her. Twohundred? Ah, why not make it three?”

  The woman’s eyes glistened with fear. “Three-hundred? Please, my lord... sire. I beg you not three-hundred!”

  He folded his arms. “One-hundred if

  you show us a Sky Bridge.”

  Her lip trembled but she nodded slowly. That was a good sign: she thought she was better throwing her lot in with them than the rebels. “You’ll need a wielder who knows how to open it,” Myrte whispered.

  Morghiad reached into his coat for a second item, and this time he brought out a leather-bound set of papers. “Silar, perhaps you and I can find one within this list? Several of the names are starred – all female.”

  He wondered at some of the names within it. It contained people he had never suspected - men and women he recognised as his most trusted informants. It also contained some rather hateful figures he had long despised. He had always been inconsistent at re-assessing individuals he already knew, or

  thought he knew. Morghiad was a hundred times better at reading the eyes of men and... some women, and a great deal of the time Silar felt he was simply elaborating on what the king already knew. “If they are wielders, they’ll be working for these people under duress. They will almost certainly be imprisoned somewhere.”

  “Then it’s our duty to free them. See if you can find one in Cadra. I would be very surprised if they weren’t hiding her under my nose.” Morghiad stood. “I’ll have Eupith come for Lady Tanacet at midnight this evening. But for now, I have an army to placate.” Morghiad offered a goodbye and strode into the hallways looking far too pleased with himself. Or maybe he was in a level mood, and Silar had become too sober and much too serious these days.

  The practice hall stretched out into the grim depths of the castle bowels, filled with thousands of faces of soldiers. It felt like an age since Morghiad had stood at the head of it, and reminded him of happier days - days when Silar had a little more faith in his abilities. Silar had become worryingly unsure of himselfin the wake of their discoveries, even though he had correctly predicted every invasion that had occurred in the last twenty years. The man

  either needed kicking or encouraging back into self-belief.

  Had a country ruled by Acher been a happier country than his? The thought made him feel rather unwell. “Good day to you all.” His low volume speech was amplified considerably by the construction of the room. “I’ve come here on some rather serious business. It has come to my attention that some among you feel that I have abandoned the army in my role as king, thatI have neglected the very men with whom I have fought. And that I have forgotten the men who have battled with such dedication for this country. I wanted to assure you thatI have not, that I would not. I also wanted to ask you whatI should do to convince you of it.”

  Surprise marked many of the faces

  Morghiad could see, but the hall soon dissolved into a busy chatter. Beodrin calmed the room after several minutes had passed.
He gave the king a curious look before he said, “Do we have any bright ideas?”

  There was silence. Then, a single voice, a very young voice called out, “You should train with us again, King Morghiad.” A wave of nods radiated from the origin of the words.

  He disagreed. “Army business should remain separate from the throne’s. That is the way it’s always been. I cannot be party to your meetings.”

  Another man shouted, “Artemi knew she belonged. If she were here, she’d want you here, too.”

  Morghiad was dumbfounded. No one but Silar ever mentioned her name to him

  unless they had direct business related to her. Anger bubbled in him as he considered how to reprimand the voice’s owner. He hated people reminding him she had died - that he had failed so appallingly. But she had been theirs as well, in affection and duty. And the man was right about her. Even as queen, she would never have abandoned her training sessions for the sake of tradition.

  Beodrin shrugged, “You make the rules, my lord. Maybe we should do things a little differently?”

  Morghiad chewed the thought over in his mind. “I have missed the challenge of fighting fifty men at once...” he allowed a slow grin. Picking the odd blade-master to duel with in the courtyard could become very repetitive after a while. “All in...” He didn’t complete the

  sentence before the men began walking to the right, making the entire room appear to tilt. Morghiad had no idea where he was going to find the time to do all this training, ruling and plot-unravelling. At least it could provide some more positive entertainment. He looked to Beodrin.

  The captain rubbed his hands together. “Right. How would you like something tough to get started with?”

  Morghiad returned to his rooms sweatdrenched and exhausted from his fourth session that week. If this was how they planned to kill him, they were going the right way about it. But he had other business to attend to before he

  collapsed: the matter of the Sky Bridge. That morning, Silar had reported the discovery of no fewer than three imprisoned wielders in Cadra. By now, he should have neatly extracted one of them and made it look like a solo escape effort. If not, they’d have an entirely new set of prisoners to deal with.

  Morghiad still hadn’t worked out quite what to do with the traitors. The prisons were too full to hold everyone involved, and he didn’t especially favour execution as a punishment. He needed to put them to use somehow.

  He stripped off his clothing and jumped under the broad, cascading waterfall shower that almost filled an entire granite-lined room. Lush green plants filled the corners of it with their generous, weeping leaves. Acher’s old

  apartments were quite ridiculous for his needs, and he would rather have remained in his old rooms, but appearances had to be maintained, and it did offer him enough space for private offices where nobles and administrators wouldn’t wander in and out at their leisure. Morghiad towelled himself off, threw on some rather more respectable clothing and trotted down the stairs to meet Silar. Following a lengthy stride past his guards, he came to the castle’s exit. Silar was waiting patiently in the main courtyard with golden-haired Selieni, four soldiers and two hooded women. Selieni had already disguised the two women to some degree, using Blaze to alter the colours of their features. One of the changed women appeared hunched over with exhaustion, her fingers were spindly and long, and black waves of hair

  trailed limply over her bodice. Clearly this woman’s captors had not treated her well, but she was invaluable, and time was too scarce a commodity to allow her to rest. The other woman was Lady Tanacet.

  The group rode out and over the rise in the grasslands skirting Cadra, Myrte proving her trustworthiness with each direction that was verified by the wielder. It became rapidly apparent that the orientation of the entrance to the Sky Bridge was determined by the position of the sun, and newly freed Demeta threw strings of scouting forms to find it. One of them struck something curved, sinuous, complex. It glittered purple and brilliant white on contact, growing into a smooth-woven arch of glass vines.

  Demeta formed a sparking membrane

  of Blaze Energy that kicked and pulsed as it moved toward the gateway. It was intricate and multi-faceted, but Morghiad could see how it fitted like a key in a lock. The clear vines twisted and splayed outwards, until the area it framed was large enough to accommodate five or six soldiers riding abreast. In the area beyond, the landscape appeared the same as before, only warped in an upside-down curve. Selieni’s grey eyes were wide, her full lips parted in admiration of the spectacle. Silar, however, looked highly suspicious of the entrance. “You first,” he said to Myrte.

  The short woman trotted to the gate with Morghiad close behind; he could not risk her escaping. Tyshar’s ears pricked forwards as soon as they stepped through to the still air, and he stamped his way up the invisible ramp.

  Morghiad stared in wonderment as the ground arced away in huge bounds with each small step that his horse took. “Where does this take us?”

  Myrte half-turned her head. “Larkena! One hour!”

  Over eight-hundred miles in an hour? How was that possible? He felt the urge to experiment, and reined Tyshar sharply to the right. The animal snorted and pulled back in behind Lady Tanacet’s mare. Something invisible was guiding them in that direction only. “How many of these are there in Calidell?”

  “Hundreds, sire,” said the husky voice of the wielder behind him. “But the forms that hold them in place are very ancient, degraded. They cannot take more than a handful of riders at once. I heard tell of a large travelling group

  that experienced a... collapse. They were never seen again.”

  Morghiad was dimly aware of Silar growling behind him. He reached out with his hand, and his new knowledge of what to look for, to feel the Blaze Energy that made the bridge. The form was far too complex for him to interpret, but he could sense the faults in it. Perhaps Gialdin had finally fallen for the same reason.

  Forests, lakes, marshes, mists and grasslands swept underneath the small procession with incredible fluidity. The whole spectacle was a flood to the eyes, and several of the guards had already vomited by the time the bridge began its descent through a thick layer of cloud to the southern city. Morghiad could just make out its distinctive, earth

  coloured stone towers. He sensed Demeta mustering her power. “Stop here. I’ve seen enough to believe it,” he said, “We should turn and go back before we’re seen out of place.”

  The stocky guard behind him tutted. “Surely we should take advantage of this, my lord? Don’t you want to be drinking some of that fine southern honeyed ale at low-sun, and northern wine at sunset?”

  Sorry to spoil your fun, Lyman, but we need to get back. And I don’t want anyone else knowing we’ve found this.” Sky Bridges could be enormously useful for just about every aspect of Calidell’s business, Morghiad pondered, though he would need the services of a legendary wielder to see to their integrity. “What’s the maximum number of people you’ve seen these bridges take, Demeta?”

  “Ten,” she said plainly.

  One thousand hours to move an army. That would take a similar amount of time as a hard march to the city, but the men would not be nearly so fatigued when they arrived.

  The group rode back over the myriad landscapes and cities that filled southern Calidell, feeling no colder nor air-starved than they had on departure. If anything, the air on the bridge was warmed by the sun as it skimmed the tops of the sparse clouds. When they returned to Cadra’s outskirts, a small group of merchants were riding below.

  “They can’t see us, so long as we don’t open the gate,” Myrte said rather loudly.

  Morghiad watched as the party trotted by; they seemed to be chatting merrily about the excellent price they had gotten for firewood

  from their dealings with the treasury. It was enough to make a sane man paranoid! Once clear, Demeta opened the gate with an altogether different form, which was even more convoluted and power-draining than th
e first. It would take days to get his head around making that one. They stepped out of the Sky Bridge and the wielder allowed it to snap into invisibility behind them. She leaned on her horse’s neck for support, breathless from the exertion and her own fatigue.

  Morghiad could not allow himselfto continue to use her in such a state. “Demeta, when we get back you’re to take rest in rooms next to GeneralForllan’s. Myrte, as soon as we returnI want you to map every Sky Bridge that you know of, and detail who makes use of The two women nodded beneath their hoods.

  Morghiad turned to Selieni. “How much of those forms do you think you can recall?”

  She twisted her mouth oddly. “Parts of it. I’ve never seen anything so complicated in my life!”

  “Perhaps I can help you while Demeta recovers.”

  She smiled broadly back at him, and Silar rolled his eyes.

  Morghiad ignored it. “How were these bridges rediscovered, anyway?”

  Demeta raised her angular face to her new allies. “It is my fault. Three years ago a kanaala from abroad enlisted my help to open one and transport him through. Only, I

  remembered how he’d constructed the Blaze Energy through me. And then one of your enemies caught me opening one.”

  “Who was this kanaala?” Silar probed.

  “He never gave his name. He carried a strange sword and he was old, I think. Perhaps as old as the bridges themselves.”