Ashes And Spirit (Book 3)

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Ashes And Spirit (Book 3) Page 9

by A. D. Trosper


  The laughter and quiet conversation filled the evening and brought them together as the family they were. He realized now his return to Galdrilene had been long overdue. They should have come back weeks ago. He and Taela both would have benefited from it.

  Though Kellinar was keenly aware of the gaps in their group where Emallya, Bardeck, Anevay, Tallula, and Tania should have been, it didn’t hurt as much as it had only a short time ago. Looking at them all, it became obvious that the past couple of weeks spent in Galdrilene had been needed by everyone. A chance to reconnect for the older riders and a chance to feel included by the newer riders. Several of them would be Sliding out of Galdrilene soon and joining in the danger along the border. A task he knew they looked forward to for reasons he couldn’t fathom. Given the option, Kellinar would prefer never to see a battle again. But then, they hadn’t been there for Trilene, hadn’t witnessed the horror that was a fight with Shadow Riders.

  It would come soon enough. He turned his thoughts away from the dark possibilities of the future and focused on the warmth and comfort of the present, surrounded by those who were far closer to family than friends.

  The wind whipped over them as Keta and Merru, with Sumara and Loki astride their backs, streaked overhead. Sumara’s green Keta was by far the fastest, most agile dragon in Galdrilene. The next fastest was Merru and the two dragons and their riders took great delight in competing against each other. Though Merru and Loki inevitably lost every time, they never failed to rise to the challenge or give up hope that one day they would beat the dark-skinned rider and her green.

  Cheers went up from the group gathered on the terrace as everyone yelled encouragement to one, the other, or both. The other dragons, some on their ledges, the rest lounging by the lake, raised their voices in bulging roars that reverberated off the sides of the rim. Keta put on a new burst of speed and did a twisting flip that nearly made Merru turn inside out trying to keep up with her. With a rumble of dragon laughter, Keta shot across the sky in the opposite direction with the golden Merru over two dragon-lengths behind.

  Kellinar chuckled as he watched them and for the first time since the Battle of Trilene, he didn’t feel guilty for finding pleasure and happiness in the moment. Tomorrow they would scatter again, back to where they were needed in the rest of the world. But for tonight, Galdrilene was their world.

  Kirynn and Vaddoc stood in the town center of Basc. She swallowed hard and took shallow breaths, the stench overwhelming. The water fountain tinkled merrily, at odds with the carnage around it. This explained why no one had received word from the Border Guard outpost for several days.

  The wet, ripping sounds of vultures tearing strips off rotting bodies underscored the loud buzzing of thousands of flies crawling over one another in a moving, pulsing blanket. The small, dark insects clung to blood-stained walls, covered the edges of the fountain, and massed on the putrid remains of what had been the town’s people.

  The corpses against the wall, stripped of almost all identifying features except for some remnants of clothing, identified them as females. A few remaining blackened and blistered body parts revealed the manner of their death.

  Nothing Kirynn had witnessed, not even Trilene, prepared her for the scene or the smell. Bile rose strong and quick in the back of her throat. Despite the comfortable temperature of winter in southern Shadereen, sweat broke out on her brow. Her stomach heaved as she bent over and vomited onto the hard-packed dirt. The sound of retching behind her told her Vaddoc too was unable to control his reaction. Another wave of nausea swept through her, and she bent over again.

  When there was nothing left to bring up, Kirynn opened the small leather bag of water and rinsed her mouth. After taking a small sip to dull the burn in her throat, she passed it to Vaddoc. Flies, drawn by the odor of the vomit, gathered close. They landed on her sweaty skin with their sticky legs. She brushed them away with a shiver, trying to suppress the thought of what else the nasty things had landed on.

  As much as she wanted to leave, they had to investigate. They knew who killed the women, but what had killed the men? Not Sadira, it was obvious by what was left of them that they hadn’t died by Sadira’s shadows. Kirynn pulled the neck of her shirt up and pressed it against her nose and mouth, hoping to dampen the stench.

  Vaddoc moved around one side of the center while she worked the other. As they explored, they disrupted the vultures and flies—flapping wings and rustling feathers competed with the constant buzz. They met on the far side of the fountain. He glanced around before settling his gaze on the water. She didn’t blame him. It was by far the safest place to look.

  “Only two magics were used here,” Vaddoc said, his voice muffled by the fabric over the lower half of his face.

  Kirynn nodded in agreement. “We need to search every house for survivors, though by the looks of the bodies it appears everyone down to the newest babe is dead.”

  “We have to check anyway.” Vaddoc swept his gaze over the buildings. “You take the northern half of town, I will take the southern.”

  Nodding, Kirynn turned and worked her way through the town center, her eyes on the buildings. Their empty windows stared back like sockets as dead as their owners. The first house was a small affair. A central room, a cooking alcove, and two sleeping rooms. Curtains shifted in the faint breeze. Charred remains of a loaf of bread inside the cold oven. A child’s doll in the middle of the floor where it had been dropped. A pitcher of water on the table next to a bag of tea leaves.

  Outside another door stood a washtub filled with water and clothes. The last item on the dry line was only half hung. Inside that house, she found more of the same. Everywhere she looked were the reminders of lives that had suddenly stopped mid-task. But no signs of life other than rodents picking over food left behind by the dead. Not even family pets had been spared.

  House after house, shop after shop, she searched. It was the same, always the same.

  When Kirynn finished and returned to the town center, Vaddoc wasn’t there. In all likelihood, still searching. She couldn’t wait for him there. Couldn’t be among all the death a moment longer. As she strode down the street toward the edge of town where the dragons waited, she reached out to Syrakynn. “Have Namir let Vaddoc know I’m with you two. I can’t be inside the town anymore.”

  “I will. And I understand.”

  When she reached the red, Kirynn leaned her head against the dragon’s side and closed her eyes. At least out here where the breeze moved better, the smell wasn’t as bad. “I should have hung onto the detachment a while longer I guess.”

  “Even with it, I think you would have struggled with this. If you hadn’t, I would have worried about you,” came the return. “Vaddoc comes.”

  Kirynn opened her eyes and turned to see the ashen-faced Borderman walking toward them.

  “I found no one left alive,” he said when he reached her.

  “I found the same.”

  Vaddoc looked back at the town. “Why? What would provoke such action against Basc?”

  Kirynn sighed and began fastening the catcher strap. “I don’t think ‘why’ can be answered when it comes to Shadow Riders.”

  “There is nothing here though. No chance at gaining power, no resources to take, nothing. Basc only contained a little over five hundred people, not including the Border Guards stationed here.”

  “You’ll drive yourself crazy trying to rationalize it. It was done because the Shadow Riders are sick and twisted. Nothing more, nothing less. There’s no way to reason it,” Kirynn said and pulled herself into the saddle. “All we can do is try to patrol the border more and hope that no others suffer this fate.”

  When Vaddoc gained the saddle and had his safety straps secured, the dragons lifted off. Kirynn took a deep breath of the fresh air well above the town. The red opened a Slide, and Kirynn could feel the dragon’s relief at leaving the town behind.

  They came out of the Slide over Marden. To the north, where a wide river cut
through the scanty grass on its way to the Blood River, numerous narrow channels cut through the landscape like long spokes. In-between the spokes grew row upon row of trees with their orange, yellow, and green fruits along with rows of vegetable crops. Far to the south, where the grass grew thicker, herds of sheep and geese grazed. To the east, in the scrubbier areas, goats grazed on the thorny brush.

  The sun sparkled off the waterways as Syrakynn glided toward the massive keep. Kirynn couldn’t wait to get a bath. It wouldn’t be as nice as a bath in Galdrilene but even a bucket of water and soap would do right now. Anything to wash the stench from her skin and clothes. If only the images could be washed from her mind as easily. They would be Sliding back to Galdrilene soon. She could get a proper bath then.

  Kalila rubbed her temples and suppressed a groan. Hours of listening to the whining Heads of Houses had given her a splitting headache. Lord Haden’s voice echoed as he ranted about the loss of life at the battle of Trilene, pacing the length of the table where the other Heads sat. A battle he continued to claim was none of Markene’s business. He’d been ranting about this for three months.

  At the request of Lalani, she’d continued ruling Markene with a firm hand. She’d remained largely silent during these meetings of nobles, refusing to justify her actions—until now.

  The incessant droning of Lord Haden’s nasally voice grated in her ears, each word driving into her head like nails. Her anger, that had grown in a slow burn, now simmered just under the surface. When Haden jumped onto the next complaint, the people who’d come to Markene as refugees, the anger flashed white-hot.

  Kalila stood from her seat at the head of the table and raised herself to her full height. She was still shorter than him by several inches. It didn’t matter. She gave him a look that clearly showed she thought him less than the dirt beneath her shoe.

  “What would you have done with the displaced people, Lord Haden?” she asked, doing her best to keep her voice even while she interrupted him.

  Haden turned toward her, his eyes wide as if surprised she’d spoken. “I would not have done anything with them. I would not have involved Markene in Trilene’s quarrel.”

  Kalila raised an eyebrow. “I know you wouldn’t have. I saw exactly how willing you were to stick your neck out for Markene on the day Sadira paid her visit. If you could do nothing more than cower against a wall when the safety of Markene’s people was at stake, why would you be capable of standing up for anyone else?”

  “That was different.” Haden’s face flushed red. In anger or embarrassment, Kalila couldn’t tell. “What you did went well beyond protecting Markene. And then you dragged all of those filthy people back with you.”

  Kalila didn’t register what she’d done until she was standing in front of Haden, her hand stinging from the force of the slap. A collective gasp filled the room.

  Haden’s eyes narrowed, the red handprint on the side of his face standing out as he gave her a murderous look. “You dare—”

  “You dare! Who are you to question my decision? If Markene were facing the same impossible odds, I would hope other nations would come to our aid. If we refuse to show our support for our allies, how can we expect them to help defend our borders when the time comes?” Kalila nearly shook with anger. “And as far as those ‘filthy people’ are concerned, those people who you seem to feel deserved to die, they are no longer in Markene because they are busy building their own nation from the ground up. Something I know you cannot begin to comprehend since you had everything handed to you by virtue of birth, and you can’t even run that properly. I imagine anything built by you would likely fall down in the first good wind.”

  Kalila stepped back from him, bringing her emotions under control. “You will say nothing else on this matter. If you wish to push the issue, then we will be forced to go head to head. This isn’t a fight you want Haden. Do not test me. If you find that you haven’t the stomach to continue under my rule, you are more than welcome to pack your bags and head for the Kormai. However, if you remain, you will cease causing unrest in this nation in the hopes of your own selfish gain. Markene and its people are not a gaming chip for you to play with.”

  “You will regret this,” Haden said through gritted teeth.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Go ahead. Continue with what you’ve been trying. I promise you won’t like the results. And even if you were to unseat me from my throne, you shall never sit in it.” If he thought his threats frightened her then he was underestimating her.

  He laughed darkly. “I’m the only one to take it if you were declared unsuitable.”

  So sure of himself, so full of his own self-imagined superiority, and so convinced of his place in the world. It was time to pull that rug from beneath his feet. Kalila allowed a small smile to play upon her lips. “Hard to sit in the throne when you are a dead man.”

  Haden took a step toward her and stopped when the Defenders shifted, ready to prevent him from harming their queen. Not that it mattered. At that moment, Kalila held her magic ready. Haden would die before he laid a hand on her.

  “You dare threaten me like that?”

  “I’m not making a threat, Haden. You have my word as Queen of Markene, no matter what befalls me, that you will never live to take the throne.”

  He glanced back at the other Heads sitting at the table. None of them made eye contact. Kalila chuckled at the flicker of fear she saw in his eyes. “Don’t look for help among them. Even the worst of them understands basic human decency.”

  Haden turned on his heel and strode from the chamber. The sound of the door slamming echoed throughout the room. With a heavy sigh, she returned to the table and addressed the man ranked under Haden. “I believe we have some issues with food and gold you wished to discuss before Haden went on his tangent.”

  “Yes, my queen.” The man nodded and eyed her warily.

  Kalila sat back down and resisted the urge to rub her temples again. The headache had returned, worse than before. Soon, she would be able to lose herself in the sword lessons that irritated everyone around her. After several months, she was finally gaining some aptitude with it.

  In the back of her mind, she wondered what Lalani was up to. The advisor was acting odd and it had something to do with Loki. He had returned along with Jocelynn and Varnen two days ago. In those two days, Loki had disappeared twice. Though Lalani claimed not to know where the Gold Rider was, something in her eyes made Kalila think otherwise. She would have to figure out what was going on.

  He strode through the keep. The occasional servant passed him, offering quick curtsies and bows. Too busy with their day-to-day work to do more than barely acknowledge him, he knew they would pay him little mind or dwell on his presence in these lesser halls deep beneath Marden.

  A tight knot twisted his stomach at what he was about to do. It was the only way. He’d hoped the capture and death of the Red Rider several months ago would drive away the Guardians. But it hadn’t. The woman had freed herself.

  He reached a trembling hand toward the latch of the heavy wooden door. A waft of damp air greeted him when he opened it. Slipping through, he closed it quietly, and walked down the long tunnel until he stood at the top of the stone steps cut into the wall. A single torch burned in a sconce. Though always lit, the chamber below was rarely visited. No one would be in to check on the torch for hours. No one would see the deed he was about to do.

  Below him, the light from the torch flickered dimly off the waters of the underground lake. The huge cylinder rising from the center carried water up into the castle. A large crank propelled by spit dogs and counterweights kept the spiral within the cylinder carrying water on a regular basis.

  He swallowed and took a deep breath. Any moment now. It wasn’t that he disliked the Guardians; they just brought too much change with them. That Red Rider had put all sorts of foolish notions into the heads of the young women of Shadereen. And even into the heads of women old enough to know better. Women learning t
he use of weapons and going to battle, it was preposterous. The Boromari had used the tactic for centuries, but only because they were clearly daft. Women didn’t have the strength, brains, or constitution for battle. So what if a few Boromari women could do it? It just showed they didn’t have proper women there.

  And the clothing! It was scandalous and now many of the women were having their traditional dresses altered to mimic that harlot of a rider. It was one thing for a man to take many bedmates, but women were supposed to be faithful to their men. He would have to put a stop to the ideas of scanty dresses and women warriors once the Guardians were gone.

  In fact, he would have to take control and put a stop to many things. Like the idea of common people being taught to read and calculate. What a waste of time that was. Why did the Guardians think the nation hired accountants to keep track of the people’s money for them? The common man had no need for such knowledge. And women! They wanted women to learn such things too. The whole thing was ludicrous.

  Women had their place in the world. They took care of the home, their men, and the children. And the common man had his place in the world too, and it didn’t involve the need of reading, calculations, or getting too many ideas.

  And so he stood, waiting. The Shadow Riders had promised him they would leave Shadereen alone after the Guardians were driven out. This was necessary.

  A whirlpool of inky black swirled open in the middle of the chamber, and a black dragon with a silver underside slid through. He wasn’t happy to see a woman on the dragon, but he would deal with her if he must. As long as it meant putting things back to the way they had been. Back the way he was used to them, when life was more comfortable.

  The black landed at the lake’s edge, her wings whipping the damp air around him. The rider slipped out of the saddle and landed in the water on the far side of the dragon then she sloshed to the narrow shore.

 

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