The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle

by H. O. Charles

  She stepped into her rooms wearily, closed the door and wielded a couple of dim Blaze lights. That was good: the dark creature of her mind

  hadn’t made an appearance. A bath had been left for her, but the water was ice-cold. A little touch of the fires was all that was required to heat it up again. Artemi stripped off her clothing and clambered into the gloriously hot water, clearing her mind of everything. She closed her eyes, and started to think of how to make her way to this new son. Numerous calculations and guesses were required, based upon her memories of the world’s Sky Bridges. She had to assume they followed the same courses as the ones she knew. By the time she had mentally mapped the fastest route, her mind had started to

  drift. She opened her eyes to focus again, and discovered that Morghiad was watching her from his cloak of shadows.

  Artemi thought of trying to cover her modesty, but she knew it was probably too late for that. “It is normally polite to knock.”

  He folded his arms. “I did. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. And anyway...” He unhooked his sword belt and kicked off his boots. “Am I not permitted to look upon my wife?”

  She sat up suddenly, splashing water over the side of the bath. “This life has made you very arrogant.”

  “I could say the same for you.” Morghiad proceeded to climb into the water with her, still fully clothed. He pulled a wide-eyed Artemi onto his lap, releasing waves of fire where his hands touched her bare skin. “Now. Tell me how it is that you and I can be married.” He kissed her softly.

  “The grade difference doesn’t matter. But you are hers, not mine. You should-” She was interrupted as he kissed her again. “...wait for her.”

  Morghiad took hold of her legs and hooked them around his waist. “And yet you have been without your husband for a year. I’ve seen that

  sadness in your eyes. If you were my wife and I died, I’d want another me to look after you.”

  “Arrogant!” she hissed. But her complaints were soon quelled when he ran his hand along the insides of her thighs and kissed her neck. It was a fight she could not win. Artemi tore off his soaking clothes with urgency, their sodden fibres weak against her need. She pressed her body tightly against his and bit into his shoulder as he entered her. The pleasure was immense and deep. It was everything she had missed. Tears coursed her cheeks as he made love to her, and they were tears

  formed of both sorrow and joy. Their ecstasy grew with each, fiery touch and every, hungry thrust. At one point the bath tipped over, and they were cast onto the floor amidst a swirl of water. But it only served to heighten Artemi’s pleasure. The last few moments were the same as before: that level of bliss so powerful it was almost pain, and then... White. Silence.

  He was watching her when she awoke. Smiling. “Good morning.” His fingers moved slowly through her hair.

  The pale floor was oddly warm beneath her. She smiled back, but the sadness in her heart was difficult to

  suppress. And he felt it.

  “Is that you, how you feel?”

  Artemi nodded.

  “How-?” he shook his head. “I don’t want you to be so unhappy.” That old, familiar sense of guilt surfaced in him again. “Please.”

  She forced a smile and tried to think of other things. “Tell me about that poem.”

  Morghiad rolled his eyes, picked her up from the floor and carried her to her bed. He pulled the sheets across them both and held her tightly. “It wasn’t very good: the ramblings of a love-sick teenager.”

  “I want to hear it.”

  He sighed. “Oh... it went... You hair is like old gold and fire, you’re the one I desire... something, something... perfect breasts... something... and then it ended with: please be mine.” He grinned at her giggle. “I don’t think I’ll be published any time soon.” Morghiad ran his fingers down her body and to her stomach. “You grew three children in here?”

  “Yes. Well, Tallyn was born from a different body... before I returned to The Crux.”

  He continued to look in puzzlement at her frame. “Barely

  seems like there’s space.”

  “That’s what the midwife said. Her name’s Mistress Onsa, by the way. Warhorse of a woman, but you may have need of her in the future.”

  Morghiad studied her levelly. “And your husband was there for each child. I was not there for mine. I failed him... and her.”

  Artemi touched his cheek. “No. She left because she loved you, because she feared she would kill you.”

  He raised himself onto his elbows. “Do you think she suffered?”

  “I don’t know.” That was a half lie. She had seen many women birth

  children without the aid of their lovers. It was always a traumatic event. Traumatic and bloody.

  “She - you haven’t left my mind for a moment. Not once.”

  Artemi could not help but smile. “It is the same for me.” She ran her fingers over his hard, lean arms as she spoke.

  He clenched his jaw firmly. “If we find my son, after that you’ll be gone.”

  “I have to go back.”

  Morghiad nodded slowly. “Was I a good father to your children?”

  “Very.”

  He became quiet and moved his eyes to look around the room. Several pools of water still dozed on the floor, glinting in the morning sun. “My father will be looking for us soon.”

  Artemi felt a stab of worry at that. Hedinar had reprimanded her so often over so many things; she had no idea what his reaction to this would be.

  “He’s not going to bite your arm off.” Morghiad smiled reassuringly. “Mine, however... I’m not sure he’ll appreciate his son getting his best sword with child.”

  She very nearly kicked him off the mattress. The other Artemi would

  be more than ready to return to her duties when she recalled her memories. Arrogant!

  He kissed her forehead and clambered out of the bed. His shoulder was marked with a leaping panther, she noted; not a hawk. She searched his mind for the concerns she’d known in her husband, and found none so painful. It wasn’t that he was hiding emotion from her; this man had no scars.

  Artemi followed him into the cold air and summoned up her fires. They made short work of clearing up the puddles, and shorter work of drying out their clothes. She watched as the new Morghiad dressed himself and belted on his sword. Even the way he fastened his buckle was the same set of movements she’d seen so many times before. And he did fill those tight trousers very well indeed. A smirk worked its way across her features.

  She hopped into her assassin’s garb and buckled together its numerous accoutrements. Her engagement dagger was the last item to go on, and Morghiad recognised it immediately. She spoke before he did, “My marriage gift. It was the only thing he had of his father’s.”

  The kahr nodded slowly. “Why don’t I keep both of you around... and all the children?” his smile broadened. “Blazes, two Artemis!”

  “You really are an arrogant idiot if you think you can manage two of us at once! And I can tell you now: she will not appreciate my presence.”

  Morghiad blinked at that, not really understanding her reasoning. But it wouldn’t be long before he did. The other woman certainly had some work to do on him.

  “Let’s go.” She led him into the corridor beyond, clutching onto those familiar arm muscles of his. They

  sashayed quietly past the confused expressions of guards, and paraded along the cool hallways that had filled with wide-eyed servants. Their display of affection would soon be palace news, but she wasn’t about to let go of him for the sake of gossip.

  Hedinar was not there when they arrived at his offices, which was curious. But then, he probably had an infinite number of other duties to attend to just as Silar always did.

  “Why did you react in that way to my uncle?” he asked while they waited.

  Artemi shifted uncomfortably.

  “He’s a different man in my world. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”r />
  “Really? Because that flame of yours is bouncing around as if it’s more than nothing.”

  She could not divulge the things this apparently innocent Febain had not done. “Telling you would bias you against him unnecessarily and unfairly. Please don’t ask me again.” She changed the subject, “Have you ever... ah, this may sound odd... but have you ever forced Blaze Energy into a form?”

  He frowned. “That’s impossible.”

  She nodded quickly. “Of

  course.”

  His mind was mulling over her question, but he changed the subject again, leaning across to whisper in her ear, “We can wait in my rooms for a while.” His green eyes glittered, and something mischievous stirred in his river of emotions. She pulled a face at him, but followed his instruction. Artemi knew that her time with him was very limited, and she wanted to make the best of it.

  His chambers were rather characteristically tidy, and held a sizeable collection of books. That was good to see again. A copy of

  Chronicles of the Warrior, Artemi sat open on the table. She turned a page or two over, smirking at the hyperbole.

  “As you can see, I have long been something of an admirer.” Morghiad nodded towards the shelves beyond. They contained a great deal of history books and battle summaries. All of which, she realised, she’d been present at.

  “That many battles... You should write a book about me,” she said drily. She stepped forward and pulled out a book on Lobesia. Her action prompted something in Morghiad’s emotions, though she

  couldn’t have said what it was. She flicked through the volume, examining its illustrations and descriptions. The summary of the High Lord was more flattering than it should have been. Something, a small note of paper, fell from the binding.

  “Ah, that’s just...” Morghiad stepped forward to intercept her, but she was too quick. Written in his neat script, in Pre-Fordan, was a short poem:

  Strands of hair burn with fire and sing with ancient gold, They sear my heart and own my thoughts, The nights whisper the sound of you.

  There are no rays of light so fierce,

  Nor flames so incendiary or heated.

  Every curve you bear is tortuous and taut,

  No mortal man could ever have you.

  Deadly to your enemies, but fatal to your admirers,

  I am another victim and I am

  glad.

  “You wrote this for me?” Sheer embarrassment filled his emotions as they coursed through her mind, and she moved closer. “It’s beautiful.” Her Morghiad would never have been able to write such a thing; his mind was too deeply hurt by his experiences. “Can I keep this?”

  “That’s not what you said the first time,” he said, grinning slightly.

  “If you were seventeen, then it would have been more than inappropriate for me to encourage such things.”

  Morghiad shrugged. “Six decades ago.”

  Artemi took hold of his stubblecoated jaw and kissed him firmly. It wasn’t long before she was writhing around in his bed with him, and making more noise than she really ought to have done. She was very glad for the barriers and partitions he had so carefully placed around the perimeter of the room; they were the sorts of things she never remembered to do. The sheets were sweaty and hot when they finished, and stuck to her skin as she lay comatose on his chest. She didn’t want to leave. It was such a

  shame that this had no future for her. A beautiful torture.

  Something interrupted her reverie. A noise came from the antechamber beyond, and she felt every muscle of her lover tense. His hand stopped stroking her hair; some very odd emotions crept into her mind from him. Artemi pushed her exhausted self up and turned her head towards the exit. A tall, blond-haired and grey-eyed man stood in the doorway. Artemi’s cheeks coloured immediately, though she knew they shouldn’t have. She’d been married to Morghiad for over twenty years! She’d had three of the

  blasted man’s babies! Why was she so idiotically shamed?

  Hedinar did not turn and leave as most other men might, however. The battle-hardened general was not made like them; he did not fear such social awkwardness. He seated himself in the armchair at the corner of the room and rubbed his jaw in thought.

  Morghiad was by now frantically scrabbling to cover her modesty with the edge of the sheets.

  “You could have killed him,” the general said at last. He moved his eyes to his son. “And you could have gotten yourself killed!”

  “No,” Artemi said quietly. “The same rules don’t apply.”

  “Oh really?” Hedinar said sternly. “You seem to be saying that a great deal lately!”

  Morghiad’s discomfort was palpable. “She’s right.”

  His father only frowned and rose to pace the width of the room. “Your mother will throw fireballs the size of warships when she hears of this.”

  Artemi bit her lip in disappointment. She had always dreamed, hoped for the general’s approval. “He was my husband.”

  The pacing stopped abruptly as

  Hedinar studied her. “You married him?”

  She nodded slowly, but did not allow herself to become upset. What must he have thought of her?

  “And what happened to your infamous oath, Lieutenant Fireblade?”

  Artemi felt a strong desire to hide beneath the bed sheet that barely covered her. “We met before I had my memories. I didn’t know about it.” Blazes, and she had managed to break it yet again!

  The general harrumphed and continued his pacing. “One of my own, bloody soldiers!” he muttered.

  “She is not your soldier,” Morghiad said through gritted teeth. He hastily pulled on a pair of trousers beneath the sheets as he spoke. “Artemi does not belong to anyone, not even me. You never could understand that!” He jumped out of bed and strode over the white floor to face his father. “She is the mother of my son. Apologise to her,” the kahr ordered.

  “Morghiad...” Artemi did not want this fight at all!

  Hedinar blinked in surprise at his son’s words. In spite of their similar height, the younger man appeared to tower over him.

  Anger was building up inside her lover, and she did not like the way it felt. She had to do something. Artemi pulled the sheets around her naked self and tried to walk as elegantly as she could towards the feuding men. “I don’t require any sort of apology. Hedinar, whatever opinions you have I will, of course, respect. I fell in love with your son, and that is not something I can apologise for or ignore. Nor can I possibly express regret for the relationship that produced our children. I will never be the daughterin-law you hoped for, but I will fight bitterly for my family. Of that you

  know you can be sure.” Her words seemed to be having the desired effect. “I am, however, sorry that – in my world - I could not save your son from...” her voice started to falter, “...There was nothingI could do.” She swallowed and attempted to calm herself.

  Morghiad shook his head. “I was the one who decided to get myself killed. Father, you should still apologise to her. Please.”

  General Kantari’s broad shoulders sagged. “Just who is in charge here?”

  “She is Queen of Calidell,” the

  kahr said in a low voice, pulling her against him.

  Hedinar folded his arms again. “I suppose I should have seen it coming. You with your love letters and you...” He shook his head. “Get dressed and I’ll see you both outside.” Then, more quietly, “Ah, my lady.” Clearly an afterthought. He strode from the rooms with a slight whisking of his cloak.

  Morghiad squeezed her tightly. “Does it really matter to you what he thinks? It doesn’t change me, or your mind-altering, unearthly beauty.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “And think on this.” He leant

  forward to whisper in her ear. “My mother’s father hated military men.”

  “Really?”

  Morghiad nodded. “Despised them.”

  Artemi sighed as she sought her clothes. “
Hedinar has been my friend for a long time. We fought more than a few battles together. I do not want to lose his friendship over this.”

  “He likes you far more than he would have everyone else know. How many other soldiers could get away with disappearing without an explanation, and then be welcomed back with open arms?”

  “People treat me well when they fear me. You are one of the few who doesn’t.”

  He chuckled. “No, I don’t fear you, Artemi.”

  Once she had dressed she stuffed the poem into the top of her bodice and went out to meet her general. He didn’t appear to be any happier to see her than before. He barked rather than spoke as they maintained a brisk pace through the corridors. “So, we need to find my grandson, whom you so efficiently left in obscurity?”

  “I could never have risked...

  The other me had no choice!”

  Hedinar shot her an exasperated look, but clenched his jaw. “You’d better be going, then. I’ll walk you to the stables; I’ve already had some supplies prepared for you both, though I now see only one blanket would have been necessary!”

  Morghiad tightened his mouth, and feigned disinterest in his father’s words.