The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle

by H. O. Charles

  The king’s eyes moved to the floor in thought. “It was built for a much smaller city... maybe less than a day if we push them through quickly, but no less than twelve hours.”

  “And then where will they go?” her father protested. “Do you really propose to make an entire city homeless? It could take decades to rebuild.”

  Excitement flowed into Artemi’s body. “No, it won’t.” She turned to Morghiad. “We

  need to make sure that sphere gets out of here in one piece.”

  “Alright.” She could see the smile in his eyes - the glimmer of hope.

  “It might work,” Silar said upon a long sigh. “But we will need that Heart object. And both of you need to stay alive.” He looked directly at Morghiad and Artemi, but she did not miss his brief glance to Tallyn. Just what had he seen? “We need to start emptying the city now, and plan its destruction.”

  “Koviere, we need maps,” the king stated, “Every map of the city you can lay your hands on.”

  The giant nodded and immediately ran to his task, ponytail bobbing behind him.

  “Rahake, I want the army to coordinate the evacuation. When the first group is ready to leave, come to me.” Morghiad turned to the remaining Sunidarans, wielders, Kusurus and Silar as the officers departed. “Now, I want to know the best ways to blow things up.”

  Hours of meticulous planning ensued, drawing upon millennia of expertise and invention from everyone present. But King Morghiad was undoubtedly their leader, in spite of his relative youth. Even Tallyn, Romarr and Vestuna were nodding in ready agreement by the close of their discussion.

  “We need something from them before we give them our reply,” Silar said in a low voice. “It will make all the difference.”

  Morghiad’s eyes focused on him. “Name it.”

  “We know that a larger part of their army will be non-professional, untrained. But I

  don’t know exact proportions, and they’ve hidden their bows from view. I need to know the make up of their army and which parts of it they intend to push through our gates after the fodder.” By fodder he meant the criminals, youths and unskilled who were normally sacrificed first in an attack.

  Morghiad suppressed a cough. “You want their battle plans?”

  “That’s not so impossible a request,” Tallyn said with a smile. “You have some of the world’s finest night-walkers, thieves and scouts right here.” He winked at Artemi.

  She nodded. “We could leave through the exit and ride to their rear. Infiltrating a camp as large as theirs will be easy enough.”

  Morghiad turned to her quickly. “Not you. I want you to stay here.”

  She folded her arms to consider her response carefully. The last thing she wanted to do was verbally demote him when he’d only just reclaimed his true position. “Alright. I will stay here with you.” Several of the Kusuru’s mouths dropped open. “ButI must go to them if they need me. You know the signal, boys.”

  They each nodded slowly, before departing on their mission.

  “We should get some rest while we can,” Morghiad said. “We are going to need it.”

  At that moment Rahake came running towards them. “We’re about to open the tunnel up. The first groups of citizens are almost ready.”

  Morghiad smiled eagerly. “Very efficient. Let’s go.”

  When they arrived at the courtyard, the three assassins were already garbed in black, and armed with glinting gale swords and glossy daggers; their faces were masked by yet more black fabric and their boots were made of the softest, most silent leather. Artemi was pleased to see the red scarf sitting at each of their waists. She reached to her hip for the reassurance of her own, but found it sadly absent.

  Tallyn dropped the veil that covered the lower part of his face. “You should come with us, Tem.”

  “I am needed here. Call to me if your need becomes greater.”

  He pulled his mouth tight, but did not respond. Re-veiled, he mounted his horse and joined the other two.

  “We do have need of a light,” Vestuna shouted.

  Artemi was more than happy to oblige. She took hold of only a glimmer of Blaze Energy and formed it into a bright blue ball of light, which she then threw directly to Vestuna. He caught it with practised precision.

  A crashing sound drew her attention away from her old friends and toward the false wall. Selieni had pushed it aside in an instant, revealing the high-ceilinged room beyond. Then, the floor creaked and groaned as it swung backwards in a smooth arc of aged timber. The gaping hole below was revealed, looking very much like a hungry mouth. Artemi was in no rush to return to that place again, and apparently reading her thoughts, Morghiad placed an arm across her shoulders. The

  Kusurus rattled straight through upon their lean horses, the blue light vanishing into the darkness with them.

  “They’re ready to go now, my lord and lady,” the dark-skinned captain said.

  “Very well. Selieni, Aura?”

  “My queen,” both chimed at once.

  “Keep those soldiers close to you, partition slowly and clone quickly!”

  They nodded from their horses, and were rapidly consumed by the tunnel with their guard. It was then that the great procession of people began to flow through the courtyard. Hundreds of people on foot and horse, carrying their most precious possessions. Between them rumbled carts, filled with mountains of food and rolls of tents. Blazes, how was this ever supposed to work?

  “I think I may finally have you to myself,” Morghiad whispered in her ear. “We ought to make a start on producing those children you spoke of.” His smile was warm and loving rather than mischievous. Happy against a world of worries.

  Excitement and nervousness bubbled inside Artemi as they paced rapidly to the rooms she’d taken, rooms that held warm memories of their own. Morghiad was quick to bundle her inside and shut the door against the now-noisy hallways.

  Blaze fires flooded into them both as they kissed and fell headlong into the soft embrace of the bed covers, but those were superficial against the fiery burning of his lips on her neck, or the fervent urge to touch more of his skin. His shirt tore apart with a satisfying

  harshness, and only seconds passed before his naked body was pressed hard onto her own. She would not kill him with this; he would live. Artemi cried out as his fingers moved between her legs, and louder-still when he edged inside her. It was beyond what she remembered it being: the storms that raged between them seemed stronger, and his hunger for her even more fierce. She could feel his pleasure at the way her body held him, the smoothness of her breasts upon his skin. Every ecstasy they felt was shared, and every level of bliss extended. With each thrust of his hips and arch of her back, more of her fires ran to him, their ire growing so fearsome that Artemi clutched at her king ever harder. Tears coursed free from her eyes as he neared his limit, when the pleasure became almost intolerable. And then it happened. The brilliant, white light that burned away everything: all feeling, all thought, all emotion. Gone.

  A soft chirrup of a night cricket awoke her in the darkness, though her thoughts were groggy. Unable to see him, she drew her hand along the contour of Morghiad’s bare chest. His skin felt hot and taut at her touch. A breath of fear crossed her thoughts then, and Artemi nuzzled against him to listen for his heartbeat. It was there, slow and strong.

  “It’s sleep time,” he murmured. A soft swell of emotions accompanied his words: warmth and contentment amidst mild annoyance.

  “Morghiad. I have to go. Tallyn is calling me.”

  “What?” He sat up quickly, his mind

  rapidly beset with worry and... guilt. Blazes, it was a vast mountain of guilt! But how she had missed his river of sensations coursing through her mind!

  Her emotions were only of love and obligation, if that could be described as a feeling. “Tallyn has signalled me to join him. I must go.” The night cricket sounded again. “It must be urgent.” She kissed him and made to leave the bed, but he caught her by the wrist.


  “Be careful. Please.” His worry only seemed to grow when she agreed to do as he bade.

  She lit one of the wall lamps and set about dressing herselfin the closest arrangement she had to Kusuru clothing. The red scarf was folded in a top draw, the nearest match to the original she’d had thousands of

  years ago. Artemi tied it at her hips and armed herselfwith the gale swords. She could feel Morghiad’s eyes burning into her.

  “I’ve waited a long while to see you like that.”

  “I hope I do not disappoint.”

  “Far from it.” Morghiad’s fine, naked body was calling her back into bed with him, and she did her very best to push the urge aside.

  “I will return soon.” Artemi went to him for a final kiss before she left. It was very difficult not to become entangled in his desire once more, but she finally extracted herselfand withdrew her sword.

  Searing Blaze poured into it, turning from basic fire to pure fire and finally to distilled fire. The blade-flame wrapped around her, and

  shifted. It moved her to another space, across the distance she required. But the direction was never very predictable. When the fires had receded, she found herselfin the Cadran woodland, darkened to black in the absence of the moon. She listened for a while, but heard no sign or movement of anyone else. The night cricket sounded again, and Artemi followed its source. Morghiad felt more distant in her mind, but she could sense where his river coursed, and that she was headed back toward the city. His thoughts still appeared to be suffused with concern. She broke into a sprint through the woodland, moving with unrivalled swiftness and inaudible steps. She leapt between tree trunks and flew across scrubby brush in an effort to maintain her silence. Hard surfaces were her friends, soft earth her reassurance.

  Only minutes of running brought her to the edge of the forest and, not very coincidentally, the edge of the Hirrahan encampment. Their tent rows stretched over the three miles of open ground that surrounded Cadra’s high walls. Artemi had never seen an army so vast. She padded around the perimeter and patrols of the red-uniformed men, following the cricket sound. Branches and leaves moved ahead of her, and a black shape dropped in front of them.

  “You called?” Artemi said quietly.

  Tallyn grinned broadly. “Thought I’d drag you free of your prison once more.” He stepped closer and grimaced. “You smell of

  him.”

  “Perhaps I do. Now, what is it you need me for?”

  He tilted his head to one side. “Well, I thought you wanted to have some fun. We memorised the plans of something they call the Tall Arm and Short Arm, but the Head... we left that one for you. It’s in their general’s tent.”

  “You couldn’t get it?”

  Tallyn folded his lean arms. “Perhaps. But this is better than being stuck inside a castle being drowned in his sorrowful guilt, surely?”

  Anger flooded into Artemi then. How dare he presume to know what she wanted! And how dare he pull her from Morghiad at this time! “Tal, I would give up all my bloody training to spend a minute with him, guilty or otherwise!”

  Genuine upset and concern crossed his features then. “You don’t mean that.” The Calbeni assassin looked almost hurt.

  “I do. But I’m here.” For some reason she felt as if she were in the wrong now. “Let’s get those plans.”

  He smiled only weakly before he went on to outline the position of the general’s tent and all his protectors. “He’s had a wielder put an ice shield around the documents. The sort of thing Mirel liked. Expect frostbite.”

  “I always hated those things. Alright. Where are the others?”

  “Vestuna and Romarr headed back to the castle an hour ago. They were keen for their sleep, thoughI think Romarr was eager to see Selieni.”

  Artemi smiled a small smile. “He will take good care of her, I’m sure.”

  “And what about you, Tem? Will this king make you forget what you are? Have you

  forgotten about attainment, about The High Sentinel? That is beyond any relationship, beyond any mortal man.” He brushed her cheek gently, sending his own brand of flames searing down her neck.

  “I haven’t forgotten.” And she hadn’t forgotten Morghiad’s limited lifespan, either. At least she could guarantee another twenty-seven years with him for their children. Twenty-seven years from this night. “And he has always encouraged me to be as I am, never anything else.”

  Tallyn nodded and stood back. “Then go and do what you do.”

  Artemi needed no further encouragement. She ran at full pelt into the shadows of the Hirrahan camp, jumping and leaping from tent to tent. She remained unseen,

  nothing more than a dark whisper on the late summer breeze. And then she found the general’s tent as Tallyn had described. Its walls were glowing softly from its interior lamps, and the heavy fabric flapped noisily in the light wind. Artemi crouched down low behind a barrel while she thought. Seven men paraded around the structure, and an educated guess told her most of them would be kanaala. Morghiad’s river of emotions was distracting her. He was very much awake now, and clearly full of unnecessarily anxious thoughts. She tried to ignore them.

  Peering over the top of the barrel, she could see a gap in the tent entrance. An obese man with greased curls of dark hair was talking to someone, most likely the general. She knew who this overweight man was, of course,

  having seen him pass through Corfields when she was a child. He was the King of Hirrah the king who’d left her thinking Morghiad was just another member of entirely the same breed.

  How easy it would be to assassinate King Xarrelsar now, and how much more deserving he was of it. But the Hirrahans weren’t idiots. They’d only do what countless others had done before them: pretend he was alive until the war had concluded, then proclaim that he had died in the glorious, final battle. Morghiad, of course, was a king far more likely to meet his end in such a manner. She cleared her mind of the thought and glanced to the banners to her right. Time to provide a little distraction. Artemi kicked one of the banners, knocking it slightly skewiff. It would be enough to annoy the most obsessive of them, but not

  enough for them to suspect foul play. She ran into the nearby tent row and released a guy rope, before moving several bows to their neighbouring tents, and shifting various other light objects about.

  It wasn’t long before the nearby guards were leaving their posts to trifle with rearranging numerous items, and Artemi had her opportunity to scurry towards the general’s tent. The king had already popped his head out of the doorway, and quickly waddled out to inspect the confusion. His crooked-legged general followed shortly afterward. She ghosted into the tent then, and searched for the ice shield forms. There wasn’t much in the way of subtlety about them, for they glittered brightly around a box in the corner of the middle room. She touched the forms with her

  fingers, unable to manipulate the forms as a kanaala could when The Blazes were not inside her. The shield blistered, bit and burned her fingers with its frozen touch, but she gritted her teeth and yanked the barrier apart. Morghiad’s river churned with alarm at her pain; he was fussing more than her wet nurses had!

  But the pain was gone in a moment, and the box of documents open in less time. The plans she sought lay at the top, written in plain Hirrahan. Artemi wielded only a trickle to create clones of the sheets she needed, and finished her work by pulling the ice shield closed again. A noise behind her took her attention away. The general was stepping back into his tent. Thinking quickly, she darted under his bed and assumed a perfect stillness.

  “Their queen is some sort of hero, or

  so they believe.”

  The king rolled in behind him. “Bloody Calidellians. Crazier than they are stupid.”

  The general hobbled to his seat. “Aye. Well, Wilrea’ll see to them soon enough. Though we could do it tomorrow. Are you sure about-”

  “Yes, yes, I’m sure! I just want that boy to pay for what he did to my daughter! And I won’t
forget how he insulted my wife. We get him. That’s allI care about. Feel free to join the Wilreans with the rest of the men after this.”

  “I might just do that, my lord.”

  Artemi had heard enough. Besides, she had no desire to find out what the Hirrahans would think of seeing a Calidellian queen hiding beneath their general’s bed. She rolled

  towards the tent wall and watched for moving shadows. None were evident. Moving with the ripple of the wind, Artemi slid under the base of the tent and hopped towards the shadows once more. The adrenaline surge at her success offered her the greatest feeling of elation. Her journey back to the castle was a long run to the exit of the escape tunnel, but Morghiad was waiting there with Arrow when she arrived.

  Evacuees now flooded the woodland around them, building their camps and setting their fires. Whether the area was screened and partitioned or not, it wouldn’t be long before the Hirrahans discovered it. Artemi vaulted onto Arrow’s back and met her king’s steely eyed stare. His gaze dropped to her hands, searching for signs of injury.

  “Morning will break soon,” he said. “I

  want you safe in my bed till then.”

  “Your bed?”

  He grinned at her mischievously and kicked Tyshar into a canter past the exiting Cadrans. Artemi followed swiftly behind, and did not look at her old cell when they rode past it. They returned to their bedroom with exhaustion, and in a false effort to aid her slumber, Morghiad caressed the inners of her thighs, and kissed the lips between them.