King of Blades

by Ryder Bailey

  Coulta, Wildas, Shelton, Jaimathan, and Braith all remained seated as everyone else left. Rohan held the door, then closed it firmly behind the final adviser. He crossed the room and sat down with a sigh.

  "I do want to extend one offer," Wildas stated, looking only at Jaimathan. "If your mother wishes it, we can help to coordinate a supply chain in an attempt to help them hold out against the siege."

  Jaimathan smiled faintly. "Thank you. We will pass this offer on to her and give you her response. I see no reason why she would refuse."

  Wildas nodded, then turned to Shelton. "Why wasn't I told about the other spies?"

  Shelton chuckled. "Because I didn't catch any. I found the magic but the individuals connected to it had fled. I believe they must have left after the kidnapping of Anil failed." His amusement faded and he sighed. "But we do need to be more watchful. Kemale won't invade before he has regained all his strength, but he will likely continue these games before then."

  The door opened and Yvona joined them. She was dressed in a similar red uniform to what Rohan wore and she looked drawn and tired. As soon as she sat down she turned to Rohan and informed him, "Morning drills are done. They're all yours. I have my own units to deal with this afternoon."

  "Thank you," Rohan replied with a nod. "I'll go do some work, I suppose."

  "And I should go speak to Fae," Jaimathan stated, and glanced at Wildas.

  Wildas gave a slight wave of his hand. "You don't need my permission to leave a private meeting," he assured the prince.

  "Thank you."

  Though they had agreed not to send military aid, Wildas still took the advice of most of his advisors and sent Prince-General Ruairi and a unit of the army to the border between Phelin and Algoma. The mission was to raise and mobilize the standing armies of the villages and cities closest to the border. If the army invading Algoma saw fit to move on to Phelin over land they would be prepared.

  ***

  It took a great deal of convincing before Jaimathan could get his mother to accept the offer of aid from Phelin. She still remained steadfastly against any military assistance, but eventually agreed to accept any other help they were given.

  When she asked about his magic he quickly changed the subject to Algoma's situation again. He didn't want her to lose her hope in him, even if he no longer had any hope himself.

  It took four days for a route to be plotted and volunteers to be found. No one seemed certain whether or not the supplies would even reach Algoma City, or if the volunteers would ever return. They all seemed determined to at least try. Jaimathan had no hope in this, either.

  The loss of his powers truly had given him a negative outlook on everything.

  ***

  It had been ten days since the attack on Algoma and Anil had noticed a mixture of both fear and relief in those around her ever since. Everyone feared what would happen when Emperor Kemale grew bored with Algoma, but everyone was also relieved that for now they still had time to live their lives in peace. A threat loomed, but each day was a gift.

  Coulta was still visibly watchful as they rode out from the castle on Lozk's Day, the day of the annual harvest festival. Not only had Wildas allowed Coulta to be armed, he was also armed with his own sword, though they both wore long coats to hide their weapons. Luckily, it was cool enough for this to be seen as completely normal. She and Myri were also wearing warm coats over their fancy riding dresses.

  Anil could practically feel the magic crackling around Shelton, who was clearly prepared to act at the first sign of trouble. He and Yvona rode behind Anil and Myri, who were behind Coulta and Wildas. Jaimathan and Fae were next in the procession as honored guests. Then came Rohan and twelve Guardsmen.

  Rohan had been complaining before they had left about letting his brother lead the traditional procession, but Wildas refused to let anyone else lead as long as Coulta was there beside him.

  Anil was worried at first, too, considering that they were at the brink of war, but she was quickly lost in the sights before her. The harvest festival in Windwick was nothing compared to this. She was used to seeing people selling treats and trinkets, and farmers showing off their best crops. All those things were here, too, but in a much greater number. Colored banners fluttered in the crisp breeze and music filled the air.

  When they reached the central market, Anil was amazed by the number of people moving about in relative order. Everything was so colorful and there was so much laughter that she couldn't help but smile. The scents of breads, sweets, and meat mingled through the air.

  They made a full circuit of the market, acknowledging everyone they could. Almost everyone bowed, though many children simply gawked as they passed. Several people gave them gifts, as well. Anil was especially enticed by the sweets, but Shelton had warned them all to wait until they returned to the castle to eat anything they were given. They also all wore gloves to protect them from touching anything tainted by poison or magic.

  It was a shame that they had to take such precautions, but since being held captive, even for a short time, she understood why the caution was needed.

  As they left the main market square by another street they passed a young man performing magic tricks for a group of children. He stopped to bow as they passed, and his audience quickly became intrigued by the riders. The man cut his bow short to look up past Anil, and it took her a moment to realize he was looking at Shelton behind her. Without blinking, he raised his right hand to eye level. An quick twist of his wrist produced a single, bright green flame, which flashed out when he made a fist with his hand and touched it to his left breast.

  Puzzled, Anil glanced back at Shelton in time to see him nod regally to the man, who then bowed his head briefly before turning back to the children.

  "What was that?" Anil asked Myri quietly.

  Myri shook her head. "I'm not sure. It must not have been a threat though."

  "He just swore to fight with me," Shelton explained from behind them. "It's the traditional sign of alliance among mages."

  "I thought everyone in the city had already sworn to fight?" Yvona asked.

  "It seems they've begun answering the call to fight from outside the city itself, perhaps from outside the country as well."

  "Foreigners would fight for us?" Anil asked, surprised.

  Shelton smiled faintly. "Only the Wielder of the Violet Power can summon an army of mages, and it doesn't happen often, nor have any of us ever raised an army without true cause. To answer the summons and join the fight is usually seen as an honorable thing to do, regardless of one's own nationality or that of the violet sorcerer."

  A short time later they reached the storehouses where farmers were bringing their crops to be sold to the crown.

  "How is this year's harvest?" Wildas asked the middle-aged woman who was clearly in charge. She wore no uniform, but she was giving commands like a military officer.

  She bowed low before answering, "It's a good one. We'll exhaust the budget by tomorrow at this rate. And it'll take days to bring everything in."

  "Disregard the budget," Wildas instructed. "Continue paying the standard rate for everything until we have it all."

  "Siege?" the woman asked quietly.

  "That, or the loss of farmland."

  "Are we to implement tighter rations for distribution over the winter, then?"

  "I'd prefer not to, but be ready in case we must."

  The woman bowed again. "We will be, Your Majesty."

  He nodded to her, then they rode on. Anil felt sick at the thought of the people of the city not having enough food to eat during the winter. Especially while she was certain the castle would always be supplied well.

  When they reached the castle yard and passed their horses to the grooms, Myri grasped her hand. "You look miserable."

  Anil shook her head. "It seems so unfair, that those people could starve and we would still eat well."

  She wasn't surprised when Wildas turned to her, despite her quiet whisper. He stepp
ed close and hugged her gently. "You're right," he told her. "That would be unfair. But if we impose a heavier rationing, we will also ration the castle. That's how we've always done it. We won't let the people go hungry and not suffer with them."

  Anil smiled faintly. "I don't like to sound as though I'm hoping for a hard winter, but I'm glad about that."

  Wildas smiled back at her. "I understand. And I agree."

  The feast started that evening and the dishes included fresh items just harvested from the farms outside the city. As the tradition dictated, all the local farmers were invited to the feast at the castle, though fewer accepted the invitation this year than usual, according to what Anil heard Rohan saying to Wildas, and she wondered if many of them were afraid of something terrible happening at the meal or on their way home afterward.

  The Great Hall was still fairly full. Tables had been brought in from the castle dining hall and decorated with candles and bouquets of fall plants and flowers. Streamers decorated the balconies and dried husks and reeds were spread across the floor.

  Anil sat with her spouses, the Algoman guests, and Shelton and Yvona, on a raised platform at the end of the Hall. The doors at the other end stood open for late guests, with several Guardsmen on watch for guests who may not be as welcome.

  The only other nobles present were direct members of the court. All others were supposedly celebrating with feasts of their own in the city. Most of the guests were the farmers and their families, all of whom seemed nervous only at first, until Anil helped Myri and Yvona pass out small gifts of simple toys to the children and other small gifts of teas and medicinal herbs to the parents.

  Brother Pelles, the castle's resident priest of the gods, lead a prayer to Lozk before the meal began, his voice booming through the silent Hall. "Thank you, Lozk, God of the Land and Harvest, for granting us such a good year. We pray that you continue to bless us in our time of need and we thank you for all that you give." He scattered a handful of crushed mint across the floor, then bowed and left the Hall. As usual, he had declined the invitation to dine with them.

  Priests were strange people.

  Anil was a little disappointed when Myri told her that she shouldn't drink any wine while she was pregnant. It wasn't that she truly wanted to drink, it was the knowledge that it would be a very lonely night when all of her spouses could have the spiked wine that was always served at these banquets.

  But when the servants came around to offer wine, Wildas chose the regular wine, much to her surprise. Coulta and Myri followed his example, too, and none of them changed their choices for the rest of the night.

  The meal was followed by music and socializing, and even some dancing when the tables were pulled aside. As the night grew late, Wildas stood from his seat and asked for order. The Hall fell silent quickly, and all eyes turned to the raised table.

  "I thank you all for attending this year's feast to Lozk. I believe that many of you are worried about your long ride home in the dark. The worry is perfectly understandable considering the looming threat of war. I therefore invite any and all of you who wish to stay here for the night to do so." He lifted his hand to the doors on either side of the Hall and several servants entered carrying sleeping mats and blankets. "This Hall will be thoroughly guarded. If you wish to leave at any time all you need to do is tell the guards, but you are also welcome to stay for breakfast. I bid you all a good night."

  Anil was somewhat relieved that the night was over – she was tired and just wanted to sleep – but she was also disappointed. She had enjoyed seeing the look of happiness on the faces of the guests, especially the children who may not have ever been inside the castle before. She knew they would all cherish their gifts as they grew up.

  The relief she saw on so many faces when they learned that they didn't need to venture out past the woods to their farms that night was also wonderful to see.

  She came to realize suddenly that she truly did love Wildas.

  8

  Shelton refused to enter Deandre's office unless there truly was a reason to and, now that Wildas had been given all the documents and other things he had a right to from the office, there really was no reason to go there. He and Yvona entered their suite of rooms through his own office and Yvona would cross Deandre's empty chamber for her own room. Sometimes she hardly said goodnight to him.

  This time she walked halfway across Shelton's room before he stopped her. All it took was for him to speak her name.

  "What is it?" he asked gently, taking a step closer. She had seemed perfectly fine during the farmers' banquet only a few minutes ago, despite all the pain they were both still in and the threat of war.

  She didn't speak for several long moments and her gaze was level with his feet. For a while he didn't think she'd speak, until she finally answered him in a broken voice filled with pain.

  "These rooms are so empty."

  Shelton took another cautious step forward. He had been feeling much the same way and fully agreed with her. "I don't think Wildas would be offended if we moved to a room in the next wing."

  Yvona shook her head and sniffed. Shelton had rarely seen her cry and he hated that she seemed to be on the verge of tears now. She was usually so very strong.

  "You're as empty as these rooms," she whispered, her tone sad but not accusing.

  The words pierced his heart like a sword. "Why would you say that?"

  She shook her head. "I know you're trying to cope with everything by pushing forward and being there for Wildas. The gods know things aren't beginning well for his reign. But it hurts me that you won't share the pain with me. I'm mourning, too. It's just the two of us left now, and you've pulled yourself so far away that I wonder if you no longer care."

  "Of course I do," he assured her. "Wildas needs me. This country needs me."

  "Your wife needs you!" she sobbed, finally raising her gaze. The tears shining in her eyes were easy to see in the light from the hearth.

  His heart broke even more and he reached out a hand to her, which she ignored. "Yvona..."

  "Do you even still take your tea?" she demanded.

  He knew she meant the tea he had been required to take as the Second King to cause temporary infertility. Why she would ask him such a thing, though, made no sense to him.

  "Of course," he answered.

  "Because it's simply a habit?"

  "And because I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

  "I'm past the age of childbearing."

  "I've heard of older women conceiving and having dangerous pregnancies. I wouldn't risk that with you."

  "Nor would you risk causing a scandal for Wildas."

  Shelton spread his arms in mild frustration. "Why are you angry with me? You've been no better to me than I have been to you."

  Yvona shook her head and wiped her eyes. "I don't know."

  "Yvona, what do you need?"

  Her shoulders shook. "I don't know!" she repeated.

  Cautiously, he stepped closer and pulled her into his arms. She leaned her head against his shoulder.

  "I love you," he told her honestly. "Come to me when you need me. Don't suffer this alone. And stay here with me as often as you want to. Every night if that's what you need. For whatever kind of comfort you're looking for."

  She wrapped her arms around him. "I love you, and don't you suffer this alone either. It's only us now, and I'm here with you for whatever comfort you need."

  Much to Shelton's surprise, he felt his own sorrow, which he had kept in check with constant distraction, overwhelm him then. For a long time they simply stood there in each other's arms, seeking the genuine support they both needed.

  ***

  Coulta hated the entire atmosphere of the castle. Everyone seemed to be pretending to live their lives like usual while everything about their lives was shrouded in fear. Even the farmers and their families had seemed nervous about returning home five days ago, despite having waited until morning to do so. He supposed the threat of war could do
that to people, but it hadn't been this bad when they knew Varin was truly leading a civil war upon them.

  He didn't know much about necromancers, only that they were different from sorcerers in that they used blood magic tied with death. He'd seen Shelton use blood in spells before, but he had explained that the difference was that he didn't seek any power over death with his magic. And supposedly necromancers could feed off the souls of the recently dead, which was what made them especially dangerous in battle; they could only grow stronger as the battle raged on.

  But, Shelton had assured him, not even necromancers could truly harness death itself. They weren't any harder to kill than any other man. The only trouble was getting close enough to cut one, or to shoot an arrow around a magical shield if the necromancer was using one – which they usually did.

  So if the necromancers could be killed, the only thing they would need to do as the defenders was to find ways to kill them. He knew the solution wouldn't be simple, but they could think of it if they worked to solve it instead of simply fearing what was to come. The fear in the air was oppressive.

  It was so oppressive that he left the castle as often as he could, despite the cooling temperatures, and usually joined Rohan and Yvona in the training of the new recruits. Other times he simply watched the practice sessions and reported observations to Rohan and Yvona later.

  That's where Wildas found him one afternoon, dressed in his practice leathers and leaning on the fence. The arena was mostly empty, except for Rohan and Jaimathan. It seemed that the Algoman prince needed someone to keep him in fighting form.

  "Duel?" Wildas asked as he leaned against the fence beside Coulta.

  Coulta glanced at him and smiled. Ignoring the nearby gate, he climbed into the arena over the fence, then waited for Wildas to clamor over. Coulta used his magic to temporarily dull their swords, then assumed a fighting stance.

  "No magic," Wildas reminded him.

  "Of course," Coulta replied. He never use magic in a practice duel unless his opponent asked him to. He knew that Wildas liked to practice with him because, even without magic, it was a true test to fight him. Relentless training to be an assassin had made him incredibly fast and so agile that Wildas usually argued that he had to be using magic in his movements even when he wasn't. It helped that Coulta's blades were made of Altmyr, a rare metal that was lighter than any other. It also channeled magic perfectly, a great advantage in true combat.