by M. D. Laird
He blushed.
“Tell me,” she teased.
“It’s Rodor,” he said. “It means strength. I chose it because you would not have chosen me if I had not been strong. It was my strength that freed me and brought me to you. But, like this blade, my strength has two edges, and it was what got me into trouble in the first place. Strength can be a strength, and it can be a weakness just like this sword can be beautiful, but it can also be deadly.”
She smiled and handed Rodor back to him. “That is a perfect name,” she said and raised herself onto her toes to kiss him.
“We’re ready, your lordship,” said Alistaire and they made their way to the boat.
Soon they were on board the ship, and the fleet were moving out of the bay. Maol still did not know where they were going and now there was no time to ask. Rya had sent him with Markus to find a uniform, armour and more weapons.
Markus handed him boots, pants, a shirt, a jacket and cloak. Maol stripped before pulling on the uniform. The shirt and jacket were too small around Maol’s shoulders, and Markus had to find him one a few sizes bigger.
“That’s a good fit,” said Markus. “It must be nice to be back in a uniform again?”
Maol studied his reflection. “It is,” he said. Markus gave him the armour and a helmet. He did not intend to wear it straight away, but he tried it on to check the fit before removing it.
“What weapons do you like?” Markus asked.
“What have you got?”
Maol selected a set of throwing knives and a shorter sword than Rodor. Markus gave him a shield, and he was ready. He left the accoutrements room and placed his armour and weapons—except Rodor—on the deck with everyone else’s and went to the war room to find Rya.
She was going over her battle plan and discussing the plan and making adjustments with the guards, commander and captain. Maol still had no idea who the enemy was and what they were fighting for.
Does it matter?
He wasn’t sure. Rya seemed to think it was important and he would fight for her. He would fight for his unborn baby.
Rya finally finished talking to the men and asked Maol to walk on the deck with her so she could get some air.
“You look very handsome in that uniform.” She grinned.
“You look handsome in yours too.” He smirked. Rya laughed. “Have you told the men you are with child?”
“No,” she said. “They have enough to think about, and they’ll protect me anyway.”
“They would understand why you’re not fighting if you tell them.”
“I won’t fight unless I’m in a position where I have to, like always.”
“Rya, you don’t have to get involved. Let me keep you safe, let me keep you both safe.”
“I will try to, but what we have to do is bigger than all of us.”
“And what is that?” he asked, as they reached the bow. “Where are we going and who are we going to fight?”
“We’re going to get my crown back,” she said.
“You’re going to overthrow the king?” he asked, horrified at the thought of his king—his old master—being overthrown by Maol himself. The king who had sentenced him to a life of slavery.
He had no choice! He’s still my king. I have served the king of Vernasia all of my life. I love my king.
Before he could ask anything more, he spotted a fleet of ships on the horizon. Maol had not recognised the fiery red hawk on Rya’s ships, but there was no mistaking the owner of the icy blue hawk embellishing the sails of the new ships.
Oh heck!
Realisation dawned on him. “When I first met you, I thought you had a commoner’s name. It is only two syllables and too short to be the name of a noblewoman. It is because it is short for something isn’t it?” She nodded. “It is short for Amarya, and they are the Amaryan Brotherhood.”
She smiled at him. “Had my plan worked to the timescales I had planned then you would have been aboard those ships. You would have been one of my elite warriors.”
He shook his head. “How have you done all this? How have you kept them hidden? I thought the Amaryan Brotherhood were a few men—this is an army.”
“We were, but I have been recruiting for years,” she said. “I have been recruiting and training hominem and thorian for the red army and the best thorian warriors for the blue army. I have levels of secrecy, so I know I can trust people before I tell them anything about my actual purpose. If any of this had gotten back to the king, then he would have attacked us before we were ready. I had to get us strong enough to take on his armies.”
“I am truly shocked,” he said. “I stand in the presence of a legend. The Amaryan Brotherhood is legendary… Oh shit…I scarred the face of the legendary Lord Amarya.”
She laughed. “You’ve also impregnated the legendary Lord Amarya.”
He smiled and pulled her into his arms. “That will do wonders for my ego.”
“And you are marrying the legendary Lord Amarya.” She smiled.
He grinned broadly. “You’re accepting my proposal?”
“Yes.” She jeered. “Though it wasn’t really a proposal—merely a suggestion at the end of a sentence.”
“Does the legendary Lord Amarya want to be wooed and have me propose on one knee?”
“The legendary Lord Amarya would like that very much,” she whispered.
“I don’t have a ring.”
“I will make one.” She grinned, looking around the ship.
She found a length of chain, and after rubbing her hands together, she held onto the chain to begin altering its shape. Her hands paled becoming cool as she sacrificed body heat in equivalent exchange. A small piece of metal broke away from the chain, and she manipulated its shape until she had made a perfect ring. She grinned and handed it to Maol.
Maol smiled and dropped down onto one knee. “The legendary Lord Amarya.” He grinned. “Rya, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
Maol slipped the ring onto her finger—it was a perfect fit—and stood and brought her into his arms to kiss her.
The Fortitude took the lead ahead of the brotherhood’s ships. The Fortitude would lead them followed by the blue army—the Amaryan Brotherhood. The red army were only to get involved when necessary and when the enemy was weakened enough for the hominem to engage thorian without being slaughtered—as heavily. Rya hoped the fiery red hawk would look intimidating enough to convince the enemy that something worse than the brotherhood waited for them.
“There’s a boat up ahead,” said Maol, pointing out the small rowing boat ahead of them.
“It’s Kyle,” said Rya.
“How did he get out here?”
“He midspaced to Lycea where they have contraptions that can transport you quickly across the land, then he midspaced back to that island,” She pointed to an island on the starboard side, “and waited out here for us. Most of the brotherhood are on Camp Solar, my other island, but those who can midspace work in my other camps as well.”
The Fortitude passed Kyle by and he was picked up by one of the brotherhood ships behind them.
“How have you managed to keep all those ships hidden all this time?”
“With alchemy. I used caves on the main island, but it was too much work to form them.”
“You can make caves?”
“Yes, I raised the rock and made the caves on the main island, but it took years of work to do on my own. I found an alternative with Solar Island as I grew more accomplished at alchemy and I was able to Cloak the island.”
“Have you planned all this yourself?” he asked, awed.
“Not all of it. I have good people working for me.”
“It is a very impressive operation. I pity the king.”
She grinned, and they looked out ahead at the vast ocean stretched before them.
“We’ll land on the deck of the first
ship,” said Calab. “That probably has the leaders on board—they have different sails.”
The party flew blindingly fast and landed in front of the thorian soldiers on board the deck of the ship. The soldiers reached immediately for their weapons.
“Parley,” called Calab, holding his hands in the air. “We mean you no harm; we just want to talk.”
A woman in a military uniform stepped forward, Calab could sense that, despite her confident air, she was nervous, and she was also with child. “Who are you?” she asked. “And what do you want?”
“I am Calab of Arkazatinia,” Calab replied. “These are demons and angels of Axandria, and this is Princess Eleanor of Axandria. We are here to warn you against your attack.”
The woman laughed. “The king sends his daughter and a load of angels and demons to warn us. What sort of parley is this?”
Thomas spoke. “I am Sonneillon Prince Thomas of the First Order,” he declared. “We are not here on the orders of the king. We wish to see the king removed and the Crown reinstated just as you do.”
“And what? You’ve kidnapped the princess? You’re holding her for ransom?” The woman sneered.
“Princess Eleanor is my wife,” replied Thomas, “and she is on your side.”
“So I’ve heard.” The woman sneered. “But she was forced to marry you. That hardly makes her an ally.”
“I can assure you she is.”
“Do you expect us to believe this nonsense?”
Princess Eleanor stepped forward. “No, Lord Amarya, we do not,” she said, “but for your sake, I hope you will listen anyway.”
“You have five minutes.”
“Oh good,” said Nathaniel. “Do you have wine? I can’t parley without wine.”
Amarya glared at him, and he shrugged.
“I will get to the point,” said Eleanor. “My father is aware of your plans to attack.”
The woman grimaced slightly but masked her disappointment with disinterest. “So? Half his force is in Arkazatinia; he is still no match for us.”
“No,” said Eleanor. “None of them are in Arkazatinia. They are not going to war with Arkazatinia.”
“I have it on good authority that the king has formally declared war.”
“He did. But he intended to draw you out. He knows you have been hiding from him in Vernasia and building an army to use against him. Mr Hallward, show her the documents.”
Calab reached for his vox, the soldiers lurched for their weapons as he did so, then he brought up the records to show Amarya.
“What is this thing?” she asked, afraid to touch it.
“It’s complicated, but it can capture images of things, and these are images of documents we found in the king’s office.”
Amarya looked at them and paled. “Still, half of his men have left,” she said confidently.
“The half who remain are armed with adamantine blades,” said Calab. “The other half will return as soon as they receive word you have landed. You will all be slaughtered.”
The woman grimaced again. “How do you know they have adamantine? Have you seen them?”
“Not exactly,” said Calab. “But we have found a bunker lined with adamantine and full of adamantine weapons.”
“We will explain everything,” said Eleanor, “but you need to stop your advance.”
“I am not concerned about adamantine blades.”
“Do you understand what adamantine blades would be capable of?” asked Nathaniel. “They are Hell’s equivalent of angel blades. Do you want to risk the lives of all these men and your unborn child?”
The men on the deck gasped as if hearing the news of the pregnancy for the first time, another sidled closer to her—he was likely the father. The woman glared at Nathaniel before examining the faces of the invading party.
“Your lordship,” said one of Amarya’s men, “if this is true, we are unprepared. We should call off the assault.”
“It isn’t true, Commander. We are prepared, and we will proceed,” Amarya said sternly.
“Rya, you can’t be serious,” gasped the man at her side whom Calab was convinced was the father of the child.
“We proceed as planned,” she said again.
“You’ll be slaughtered,” said Thomas.
Amarya frowned. “You are on our side?” she asked. “Will your men fight for us?”
“We fight for no one,” proclaimed Thomas arrogantly.
“Then fight for everyone,” she said. “With the might of angels and demons, we can defeat the king’s forces and restore the Crown.”
“A single wound from an adamantine blade is lethal.”
“So don’t let them hit you,” she said. “It does not make them more proficient at fighting. You are concerned because you are not used to being as vulnerable to death as everyone else. Welcome to mortality, Prince Thomas.”
“Your arrogance will be the end of you.” Thomas snarled.
She smiled slowly. “We shall see.”
General Flynn of the king’s army stood at a table looking at a map of Rexalis with his commanders. They had received word that the brotherhood were coming and their ships were mere days away. He smiled.
We’ll slaughter them before they reach the shore.
The brotherhood were highly skilled, but they did not have adamantine or as many men as the king. Even with half their force at sea they still outnumbered them. They couldn’t lose—especially when the brotherhood’s reserve army was made up of hominem and unskilled thorian. They did not stand a chance.
“So, we’re clear,” said Flynn. “We’ll perform a strong assault at the beach before they can reach the city’s fortifications. Should they get inside the walls, we will have a company at each gate. The king is safe. We just have to protect the Guild of the Crown.”
“Each soldier will have adamantine, and each civilian has steel,” said Captain Tennan. “We should move out now and get our teams into position. We don’t want to be caught out by any surprise attacks.”
Flynn nodded, and they left the war tent and strode across the camp towards the adamantine bunker. He pulled the key from a balverine skin pouch underneath his shirt and summoned the men to line up to collect their weapon. He held the key with the balverine hide and excitedly slid it into the lock. He had waited for three hundred years to use these weapons, waited three hundred years to have the bunker opened, and waited three hundred years for a cause worthy enough to reveal to the world that Axandria had adamantine blades, that they were the strongest and most powerful country in the world. And what better demonstration than to slaughter an army of traitors. They would show them no mercy. They would show them exactly what happens to those who threaten his king.
Flynn turned the key. His hands burned as he grasped the handle, he ignored the pain as he flung the door open.
No! This can’t be.
“Bring me a light,” he shouted and was handed a luminescent rock. He looked again, and the light crept up the walls of the bunker revealing that his eyes had not mistaken him. “What is the meaning of this?”
His men cringed as he roared before they stared in horror at the empty bunker.
“How did you get them?” Maol asked, his eyes wide as he stared at the haul of adamantine blades and adamantine tipped arrows that Rya had raised from the ocean floor.
“I took them from their bunker and hid them here,” she said.
“How did you get into the bunker?” asked Calab Hallward, dumbfounded. “And how did you accomplish it so quickly.”
“I used my Cloak to break in through the floor of the bunker and then my midspacers moved the weapons through Lycea and hid them here.”
“You’re the other alchemist with the high prince power? You made these weapons?”
She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I manifested the power after the last Crown died. The king found me—he had his dark alchemist trace me—he threatened my life unless I wor
ked for him. It was an accident that he realised I could craft adamantine, but it became his obsession. He made me make these weapons. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but he threatened my father and me. Whilst I worked for him, I became more skilled at alchemy, and I learned how to hide us. I sealed the weapons in the adamantine bunker and stole away in the dead of night.
“I took a great deal of money from the king and used it to buy my island in Vernasia, and we lived there—hidden. But, I still had a strong urge to protect my people, and that is why I started the Amaryan Brotherhood. We did some good, but it was never enough, and I had to get the Crown back, so I began to form my armies and here we are. I left the adamantine blades sealed in the bunker thinking that no one could access them, but your Arkazatine queen changed that.”
“She was tricked,” said Hallward.
“Regardless,” continued Rya, “her actions changed things and when we received word that the king had declared war on Arkazatinia we made our move. We thought we would stand a good chance with their forces at half-strength. If what you say about them waiting for us is true then we have lost that advantage, but they were planning on having the adamantine, and they aren’t expecting angels and demons.”
“Rya,” said Maol. “Why did you leave the adamantine locked away for so long.”
She turned to look at him. “Because it is dangerous and I didn’t want to allow it out into the world.”
“So, why are you releasing it now?”
She looked puzzled. “Because we need to take back the Crown.”
“We can take it with steel.”
“We will lose more men with steel.”
“Any lives saved will be offset later,” said Hallward. “Your betrothed speaks the truth. Once you release this weapon into the world, there is no going back. You will not be able to account for all the blades when the war is won—some will be lost.”
“That is correct,” said Prince Thomas. “A blade in the hands of powerful alchemists could be lethal. How do we know that there is not some manipulation with alchemy that can change its properties? We think there is only high prince power because that is the only natural power. What if someone had the leisure of time to study it? Arkazatinia could invent some technology to manipulate it or even replicate it.