The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle

by H. O. Charles

Morghiad appeared to be muttering something under his breath. She couldn’t quite make out the words.

  “What mustI do to prove my identity to you? Name it.”

  “I already know what you are.”

  “But you’re wrong. Mirel has scarred

  you. This is the continuation of her torture. This is the sort of mess she’d always leave behind, though there is more of you left thanI could have hoped for. What could she hope to gain by pretending to be me anyway?”

  Morghiad folded his arms tightly, defensively. “My trust, his trust. Everyone’s.”

  “I have no guarantee of that. A few years ago Silar thought I was going to kill you... and this problem you have with Blaze... I could have chosen someone far better to pose as.”

  “More lies and deceit. Can’t you see it Toryn? That is not her.”

  “You have a problem with Blaze?”

  Morghiad went quiet then, and Artemi came to understand the clumsiness of her words. Clearly the castle had sought to keep Morghiad’s addiction secret from her father.

  Perhaps they had feared it would set him more defiantly against her choice of lover. And now that she had revealed the truth, Morghiad would see it as further evidence of her divisiveness. She tried to ease the situation before it worsened. “It is nothing you need to be concerned about, father.” She turned her eyes to the king. “And it is somethingI can help you with.” Though in truth, she wasn’t entirely sure how.

  Then Morghiad did something very odd indeed. He approached the bars of her cell and started singing softly. It sounded like, “Fields of Athenly,” but she wasn’t sure. The words were only half-mumbled. “I’m not afraid of you,” he said between verses, “I know what you are.”

  Toryn stepped in at that point, clearly frustrated with the king’s behaviour. “That’s

  enough. Time for you to go to your duties, my lord.”

  Morghiad only mumbled quietly, and Artemi caught sight of water glistening on his cheek. That man needed the arms of a woman, she thought, as he strode back into the darkness. And her dream now seemed more impossible than ever.

  discussion, eighteen men had finally left Cadra to search for a vanha-sielu child.

  In this time, Artemi’s cell had grown too claustrophobic even for her stubborn patience. So, in the heart of what she believed to be night, she would step out of it and walk several miles to the collapsed exit. Here she would wield only the smallest wisps of Blaze to move the fallen masonry out of the way. In time, she hoped to fix the exit and make it useful once more. There were millions of broken blocks forming the puzzle, some large and some small, but it was a slow job designed to take up her many free hours. She spent the rest of her time translating Dorlunh’s books, all of which, she realised, held prophesies of the world’s ending. Several spoke of a great, fearful creature born from a broken heart that

  would storm the earth and feed on Blaze with such hunger that the rest of the world was left without. Artemi did not like the sound of that, though she’d never seen things more frightening than eisiels or Jarhoan dragons. Tales of monsters were exactly that, in her experience. People were the real monsters.

  On an especially cold day, when the darkness of her surroundings seemed to nip at her like a swarm of snap-gnats, she found another mention of Gialdin.

  “The fine, white palace will know great pain and anguish. It shall be the source of final horrors.”

  But Gialdin was gone, obliterated. How could it have any effect now? Had the foreteller become confused by visions of the battle? Or had something happened at that battle which

  could still have very serious repercussions? And where better to find out about the particulars of the battle than Cadra? That would explain Dorlunh’s presence here; after all, he had arrived only two years after Gialdin had fallen. Presumably he’d been ignorant of Morghiad’s true parentage at that point, just like everyone else. There was something Artemi still didn’t understand about the destruction of the palace, or the peculiar warmth of the ruins afterwards. And the way it had rendered her blades so deadly against Mirel’s... why hadn’t that been true of Morghiad’s dagger? A great many mysteries surrounded that place.

  Artemi sighed heavily, but her attention was rapidly drawn away by a company of approaching warriors. She immediately

  recognised the man at the head of them, and almost ran out of her cell to embrace him.

  “And what sort of mess have we got ourselves into now, young lady?” Tallyn asked as he drew near. He’d taken care to disarm or conceal his weapons before entering the castle, clearly wary of people recognising them. But he was otherwise the same as she remembered, with his russet skin and light hair and olive eyes. The red Kusuru scarf was tied at his waist.

  “Yes, I must apologise for my reception. I’ll put a rug down next time.”

  “Just as beautiful as ever, I see. And your bottom is still looking rather shapely. I shall forgive you this once,” he said as he grinned broadly and winked. The man knew how comments like that irked her. It also caused Burrus and Jhontin to blink, shocked by the Calbeni forwardness.

  Artemi half smiled, half grimaced in response. “It is good to see you again, Tallyn. It has been far too long.”

  “Aye, two-hundred bloody years, girl! Thought you could have stopped by in between your wars.”

  “This last century has had me rather busy, I’m sorry. Have Burrus and Jhontin explained much of the situation to you?”

  He harrumphed and folded his arms. “Mirel, a wake of destruction and a mad king. Have I missed much out? And what are you hanging around in here for? You hardly need my help to escape.” He scanned the surroundings for hidden Blaze forms, but soon returned his eyes to her.

  “I’m here because the king believes I

  am Mirel. But I cannot run like a guilty woman, and Calidell’s defences have been weakened by her. So I have to stay, and I must regain his trust.”

  He made an annoyed sound. “What is Calidell to you? And if he’s insane, how do you propose to gain his trust through rational logic?”

  “I owe Calidell a great deal. And I need him to trust me, Tallyn. He must recover from this so that I can work with him.”

  “If Mirel has ruined his mind then it is gone in this life. Blazes, you know how long it took me to recover! And being an eisiel...” His voice trailed off.

  Artemi could not hide the disappointment in her face, or the crushing slew of emotions that filled her at his words. “Please try. You had no one else who understood, but

  he could have your guidance, your understanding.”

  Tallyn frowned. “He’s just a king, Tem. What does it matter? There are hundreds of them, and there’ll be hundreds more in the future.”

  The Sunidarans drew breath sharply and exchanged glances behind him, upset that he displayed such disregard for the son of their former liege-lord.

  “He is a very special king. I believe he will be a legendary one.” She had met many kings in her time, but none led so convincingly, or with such honesty and genuine concern as he did. He could be something very special. Dorlunh must have realised as much.

  Tallyn’s frown creases only deepened. “Just what is your relationship to this man – is

  he a brother? Your father?”

  Artemi felt deeply uncomfortable under his stare as she tried to form a suitable response. He interrupted her before she could, however, “Light of Achellon, I don’t believe it!” Tallyn leaned forward against the bars. “Artemi-ankle-biter-mule-face-Fireblade is in love!”

  She cringed with embarrassment at her nicknames, and further embarrassment at the truth of his accusation. “I didn’t intend for it to happen-”

  “People seldom do - normal people, I mean. Blazes.” He shook his head in wonderment. “And yet this man does not feel the same way about you? Is he blind as well as mad?”

  She would have laughed then, but

  could not force herselfto. “We were lovers in my previous life, and very nearly that in t
his life. He sought me out whenI was reborn, housed me... and, well, then Mirel came along. I killed her, but now he thinks I am her and that she killed me.”

  He still appeared somewhat taken aback. “So he’s kanaala? A fourteen?”

  Artemi sighed. “Twelve. I can’t explain it. It worked. So do you think you can help him, or try?”

  Tallyn appeared deep in reflection for a time, but he returned his olive eyes to her once he had finished. “I wouldn’t do this for anyone else. Ah, alright then. But he’d better be worth it!”

  “He is. And I’ve asked the others to come too. Have you heard from any of them

  lately?”

  The assassin compressed his lips briefly. “DorlunhI haven’t seen in millennia; Romarr I last saw in Tegra several decades ago while he was chasing some girl; Vestuna – Blazes alone knows where he is; and Khasha had taken up some sort of mission to find an underground city. That was several centuries ago, nowI come to think of it.”

  “Perhaps he was looking for Asterid. Dorlunh was here until very recently, until he tried to fight Mirel.”

  “Really? What had the little weasel sniffed out about this place?”

  This was not something she wanted to discuss in front of the Sunidarans, as much as she trusted them. “I think it concerns Morghiad, though I’m not entirely sure what it is.”

  “Hmm.”

  Tallyn nodded slowly.

  “And you,” Artemi moved her gaze to Burrus and Jhontin, “I must offer my deepest thanks for finding Tallyn. Do you think you will stay here?”

  “Aye,” golden-haired Burrus said jovially, “Collete won’t need us while Hirrah is distracted with Calidell. If anything, we’d be helping him by dealing with them here.” He grinned mischievously, with Jhontin nodding along vigorously beside him.

  “Very well then. I’m sure Silar will be happy for your help. He should be able to find you some lodgings as well.” But there was no need to say more, as the man himself stepped into the sphere of torchlight.

  “Bloody Blazes, it’s like a council meeting in here. My lady.” He nodded formally to Artemi. He’d taken to doing that lately, as if he really believed she was his queen. Men were strange creatures at the best of times. Silar walked around to look at Tallyn more closely. In utter silence, the two men regarded each other for several moments. Tallyn’s stance communicated ownership, territorialism even, though he viewed Silar with some amusement.

  Silar, on the other hand, drew his mouth tight and touched the hilt of his sword. He turned to Artemi. “This is one of your killer acquaintances, isn’t it?”

  “Meet Tallyn Hunter, an assassin and one of my oldest and dearest friends. Tallyn, meet Lord-General Silar Forllan. He is a man of singular abilities, and also an excellent friend.”

  Tallyn smiled but kept his arms folded.

  “He’s also in love with you.”

  “So is he,” Silar retorted, his face growing smug at the assassin’s faltering smile.

  Embarrassment stifled Artemi’s stumbling attempts at speaking, and slowly turned her cheeks red. Tallyn had never thought of her like that, surely? He was her older brother. That was always how it had been between them. And Silar might have once felt that way, but not anymore. No, he was over all that silliness now. Morghiad was the only man who’d truly been able to love a brick of a woman like her. Eventually she mustered up a voice, “We, ah... we need to find these men quarters. If you wouldn’t mind, Silar. And if you could introduce Tallyn to our king – he has some first-hand experience of Mirel’s ways.”

  Silar raised an eyebrow. “He is going

  to be the most-visited man in Calidell, what with Arrian and Si calling on him every moment of the day.”

  “My brother has been visiting him? I thought my father specifically told him not to.”

  Silar nodded. “Indeed, my queen. But he seems to have adopted the king as a second pride-father. And Morghiad wanted him around, so there we are.”

  “Is their mutual influence a good thing, can you see that?”

  “Wherever there’s a madman involved... unpredictable. He’s won twenty games of will-die against me in the last week, Artemi. I can’t seem to predict anything about or related to him anymore. I really have no idea.” Silar looked lost then, which made her feel quite uneasy.

  Tallyn’s voice took on a mocking tone, “You think you can predict people?”

  “He can, and he does,” Artemi assured, “Our general knows the hearts and minds of men... and some women.”

  Silar scoffed, “Even you, girl.”

  “What happened to queen?” she teased back.

  The man actually looked regretful and rapidly gave his apology. What strange mood had taken him?

  When their discussion had finished, the men had departed and Artemi was returned to solitude once more, she sank to the floor to think. Of all the people she’d known, Tallyn was one of the best at ingratiating himselfwith difficult characters. And there had to be something left of Morghiad to rescue; he’d had the strength to remain alive this long. How she wished that she could be the one to fix him, to bed him and make love with him until all his fears were forgotten.

  Though he’d likely try to kill her, or he’d die in the throes of their passion. She thought she knew how she’d saved him the first time, but she couldn’t quite be sure. Whatever curious power she’d invoked, they seemed to involve something of the old Blazes and something else that was new. And it was related to the odd resonance they’d both felt when they touched. Had he sensed that in Mirel? Or had she somehow passed something of herself directly to Morghiad?

  The thought reminded her of Gialdin, and the little boy she’d caught glimpses of around the white castle. It reminded her of the

  day she, Koviere, Hedinar and Medea had gone out hunting amongst the lush forests of their lands. They’d only been striding out for halfthe morning when a crew of mercenaries, armed with their own kanaala, had ridden in. It hadn’t been too much of a struggle to repel them, but Medea had not even tried to wield to protect herself. Graceful and elegant she’d been, but nothing was elegant about her fall from the horse, or the sound of her scream as she broke several bones.

  The queen’s injuries shouldn’t have been a problem, and likely would have healed naturally within a matter of hours. But Hedinar had raged at Koviere for his failure and then begged Artemi to heal his wife. Artemi had, of course, agreed and swiftly knelt to aid the injured woman. Her dark hair had swirled

  about her head in meandering black rivers. Medea had been one of the most beautiful women she’d ever known, and Hedinar’s irrational behaviour around the woman was understandable. It was said that she could make men fall to their knees with a single flutter of her eyelashes, or drive them to war with the slightest of smiles. Artemi could well believe it, and had always felt like a lumpy troll around the queen.

  As soon as their skin had touched, the other woman’s power had become immediately tangible, battling against her own in the curious iciness that only occurred between wielders. But there had been something else, something out of place. At first she wasn’t sure what it was, and had started laying the healing forms about Medea’s injuries, but then she’d recalled

  where she’d sensed it before. The queen would be dead within a fortnight. “You’re carrying a... a kanaala!” Artemi had exclaimed without thinking.

  “We don’t need the whole world to know!” Hedinar had whispered harshly behind her. A worried look had crossed Medea’s fine features then, and Artemi began to assimilate the full implications of her discovery.

  “I’ll be alright,” the queen had said firmly, “I will be fine, but we must keep him a secret.” It had remained a secret, and the queen had indeed survived the birth of her kanaala son. Quite how was yet another Gialdinian mystery. “There’s something you need to know about this castle,” Medea had whispered to her the night before the final battle, “It’s very important that you know of it,

  and only you.” But the Ca
lidellians’ immediate presence had interrupted them, and Artemi had never heard the rest of it.

  There had been countless times when Artemi had wished the other dead could return as she did, and others she wished could stay dead. But wishing for such things did not help. All she could do now was trust Tallyn, Arrian and Silar to do as she had requested... and wait.

  “Tell me about her role in Lobesia. The history books seem to say different things.”

  Morghiad settled into the worn leather armchair and pulled his coat tightly across his chest. Winter already seemed to grip the castle’s air with its claw-like hands. He scanned the walls of his old rooms with his new eyes, drinking in the sweet memories they held. He hadn’t ventured into the royal apartments for some months; that would be a challenge for a day when he felt stronger, when he had Artemi again.

  Tallyn smiled a broad smile. There was something comforting about the man’s brash honesty and easy grins, deadly though The Hunter was reputed to be. “That is because she fought on both sides. It was a forty-year battle, after all, fought for many different reasons.”

  “The Lobesians wanted their country back, and Artemi always favoured the underdog,” Romarr said gruffly. He was a man so broad with muscles he barely fit in his chair.

  “The High Lord was also somewhat enamoured with her, and she was too polite to tell him where to go,” Tallyn added.

  The king allowed a small chuckle to escape and crossed his booted feet. But his smiles soon faded as the thought forced him to remember how much he missed her presence. His men were still out there, searching for her. How much longer would they be? “Let’s change the subject.” His words drew confused looks from the two old men. He set a stern tone to his voice. “I know you’ve been visiting my prisoner. ThoughI cannot hope to prevent you, I would ask that you desist. I’ve also been thinking about moving her from the city. I would seek your advice on the best way to do it.” -- -- - Acidpain. Not again.