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Storm Without End (Requiem for the Rift King Book 1)

Page 17

by RJ Blain


  “I found him near death outside of Elenrune, Your Majesty.”

  “And this is justification for meddling in the affairs of one of the Six Kingdoms and violating the Covenant in the process?”

  When Breton didn’t reply, Arik sank back down and let out a long and low sigh. “What do you propose I do? If I inform them the boy is here, they will come and retrieve him. If they find out he is here and I haven’t told them, it’ll be even more of a violation of the Covenant. It would have been better for us all if you’d let him die, Breton.”

  “The Akakashani is the boy’s sire, Your Majesty.”

  Arik stilled. “Interesting. This could be of use to me. Is that why you saved him, then? Answer me!”

  “I’ve no sons, Your Majesty.”

  “So you threw the heir-consort of the Kelshite throne on your horse and brought him to the Rift? Have you gone mad?”

  Silence.

  “I see it is useless to try to talk sense into you. Very well. Keep your boy. I’ll report that we found a body that matches the description near our border. Is there anything else you’ve neglected to tell me, Breton?”

  “He was bitten by a Kingmaker, Your Majesty.”

  “He looked quite alive to me.”

  Breton shrugged.

  “Get out of my sight. I don’t even want to hear your voice, for that matter. Bring him to me in the morning.”

  The Guardian fled.

  Chapter Nine

  “Someone’s coming.” Fear choked off Verishi’s voice to a mere whisper.

  It was the first time the girl had said anything since they’d fled from Land’s End three days prior. Breton tensed and tightened his grip around her waist. He spun Perin in a circle, but nothing lurked among the trees except the shadows of the fading day. He panted and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Where?”

  “There,” Verishi replied, pointing into the forest.

  A dark-skinned man emerged leading a weary horse. Breton tensed and dropped his hand to his sword. Red robes clashed with the gold of the tunic of a second, paler figure who stepped out from among the trees.

  There was no mistaking the cut and style of the golden tunic and red robes. Priest and Knight. Danarite and Kelshite.

  The beast that the Knight led was not a Yadesh, but a bay.

  “At ease,” the golden-clad man said in Kelshite. “We mean you no harm. We wish to speak with you.”

  That didn’t stop Breton from curling his fingers around the hilt of his sword. Dorit moved to stand beside Perin. The Yadesh’s ears were pinned back, and the animal let out a snort. “What do you want from us?”

  “I saw you through the trees and wished to ask why it is you have a Yadesh among you. You are not of Kelsh.”

  Breton drew an inch of steel and narrowed his eyes at the two men. “I don’t see how that is your concern.”

  “We have no ill intents. We hope to negotiate for supplies. I fear we’ve had a run in with bandits and lost most of what we had,” the man said, stepping forward. Dark brown splotches stained the Kelshite’s golden tunic and a bandage was wrapped around his upper arm.

  Breton risked reaching out to the Yadesh and patted Dorit’s golden neck. A tingle rushed from the tips of his fingers and up his arm.

  ~He lies,~ a masculine voice whispered in Breton’s mind. He drew a sharp breath and struggled to keep his gaze on the two men before him. Dorit sidled closer to Perin, and the Yadesh’s shoulder pinned Breton’s leg to his gelding’s side.

  Verishi trembled in front of him. Letting go of his sword, he lifted the girl up and turned her so she sat sideways in front of him. She buried her face against his chest and let out a whimper.

  “We have some spare supplies,” Breton said.

  He didn’t like the Danarite’s smile.

  “I am Gar. This is my friend, Helet. I was escorting him to the border when we were ambushed. Were you headed for the border as well? Perhaps we could join you,” the Kelshite said.

  Dorit’s ears flicked forward before swiveling back again. ~It is true they were ambushed. Not by bandits.~

  Breton nodded and tried not to betray his surprise at the creature’s words—or that he could hear Dorit at all. The mark on his chest and shoulder tingled, similar to the feel of Dorit’s coat against his skin.

  “We have business elsewhere,” Breton said. Gar stepped into the light. Across the man’s brow was a faint mark in the shape of a coiled serpent. His hand fell to his sword. Maiten mimicked his motion and moved his horse closer to Breton’s.

  “That’s his mark. He’s been here,” Maiten whispered. Breton nodded.

  “Where is your Yadesh, Knight? Why are you escorting a Danarite Priest alone without your Yadesh?” Breton lifted Verishi and deposited her on the Yadesh’s back. She let out a startled cry and clung to Dorit’s bristled mane.

  ~I do not feel his Yadesh through him. Be wary,~ Dorit said before backing away.

  “He is occupied elsewhere,” the man replied.

  “I will deal with them,” the Priest hissed in Danarite. The Kelshite paled and backed away.

  The skreed’s mark burned and writhed beneath his skin.

  Breton drew his sword. “Stop him!”

  Perin lunged forward, hooves pounding at the ground. Breton’s sword glinted in the sunset light, and he struck down at the red-robed man. The skreed materialized from the shadows and its maw opened. His sword bounced off of the creature’s scaled hide. It thrashed and the side of its head collided with Breton’s chest, driving the breath out of his lungs. Perin squealed and jerked away.

  “Skreed,” Maiten growled.

  “Take them!” the Danarite demanded, pointing at them.

  The skreed jumped forward. Perin squealed again and reared. It let out a hooting call and struck out with its stocky forelimbs. One of its claws hooked around Breton’s arm and threw him down from the saddle. The skreed let out another call and slammed its shoulder into Perin. The gelding fell with a heavy thump and lay still.

  The breath was driven from Breton’s lungs as the creature stepped on his chest. The curved claws pressed against his shoulders on both sides of his neck.

  ~Death,~ the creature hissed in his mind. Breton thrashed beneath the skreed’s weight. The scales of its legs cut into his fingers and his blood mixed with the slime that coated the skreed. His fingers burned and heat raced up his arm.

  “Yes! Yes!” Joy infused the Danarite’s words.

  “Breton!”

  Somewhere far away, Verishi screamed.

  “Don’t move Rifter, or your friend dies,” Gar said in Kelshite. Then, in Danarite, “Don’t let it kill him yet.”

  “Very well,” Helet replied. “Hold him.”

  The Kelshite leaned over Breton and dangled a black cloth over his head. Breton’s eyes widened. Even in the growing darkness, he could make out the careful stitches of golden and silver threads. The slick material was torn and blood darkened some of the threads. In Gar’s other hand was the black, silver, and gold winged serpent brooch.

  “You might be proud to know he didn’t even scream when we broke the bones in his feet and wretched little hand,” Gar said.

  ~Truth,~ the Yadesh whispered to him.

  The sigil was thrust into Breton’s face. “I pray that you have a miserable death, just like your little King.”

  ~Truth.~ Dorit’s voice was heavy with sorrow.

  Breton closed his eyes. East. It was still there, that pressure within, calling him to the East. To the Rift King.

  But not to Kalen.

  ~~*~~

  Breton lay limp, numb to everything around him. If the skreed still pinned him, he couldn’t feel its claws digging into him. The sigil fluttered over his face with his breath, and he didn’t care that blinded him.

  “Breton!” The cloth was snatched from his face. The light from the witchlight hovering over Maiten’s head hurt his eyes. Breton blinked away the spots that bobbed and burst in his vision.

  Small fin
gers brushed against his cheek. Verishi knelt beside him. Long straight strands of golden hair framed her face and pooled around her. Dark blue eyes stared into his. She smiled and pat him on the forehead.

  “Sorry, Breton. They took off as soon as that skreed vanished. I couldn’t catch them. Can you move?”

  Breton braced his elbows and shoved himself upright. His breath hissed out through his teeth. “Yes.”

  He frowned and felt his brows furrow. Verishi smiled at him. Her features were Danarite; her eyes were the right, tilted and almond shape that many of them had, and her skin was the right color. But blonde hair? He reached up and rubbed a lock of her hair between his fingers.

  Verishi’s smile widened and she put her little hands over his. “Where are you hurt?”

  Her voice sounded much more adult-like than he expected. Unable to figure out what bothered him about her question, he let go of the girl’s hair and took stock of his injuries.

  Breton blinked and rolled his shoulders. While it hurt to draw breath, the skreed hadn’t done much to him. The cuts the skreed had inflicted on him were shallow and didn’t bleed as much as he expected. He glanced down. Dark splotches spread from the wounds. Maiten hissed in sympathy. “That looks painful.”

  “It’s nothing,” Breton replied. After taking several deep breaths, he got to his feet. He staggered to where Perin lay and knelt next to his large gelding. Maiten joined him and gripped his shoulder. Breton reached out with a trembling hand and brushed his fingers against Perin’s nose. The warmth of the horse’s breath washed over his fingers.

  Perin, at least, still lived. Breton leaned forward and rested his head against the gelding’s shoulder.

  “That man dressed in yellow is a liar,” Verishi said.

  Breton lifted his head to stare at the girl. “What?”

  Verishi pointed at the Rift King’s sigil that Maiten still held. “He’s a liar.”

  “She’s right, Breton. Look at Honey and Ferethian. I’m sure Kalen’s fine,” Maiten said. Breton did look, if only so he wouldn’t have to continue staring into the clear eyes of the little girl. Kalen’s horses stared to the east. Their ears were pinned back and their tails twitched from impatience.

  “Some of what he said was truth. Just look at the sigil,” Breton finally said to break the silence.

  “He’s survived worse.”

  “Not in enemy territory!”

  “He’s always been in enemy territory, Breton, even in the Rift. He can take care of himself.”

  Breton felt his brows rise, and he wasn’t able to smooth his expression.

  “Most of the time,” Maiten said. “Most of the time he can take care of himself. That trail collapse wasn’t his fault. He certainly couldn’t have predicted the Foristasa flooding. That took us all by surprise! Well, he should have known better when that one cave collapsed…”

  “Shut up, Maiten.” Even if Maiten’s words were truth, it didn’t change anything.

  Everything was Breton’s fault, and nothing anyone said would change that. If he hadn’t brought the boy back to the Rift with him, someone else would’ve carried Arik’s burden. He would have carried Arik’s burden. Breton rubbed at Perin’s forehead and flicked the gelding’s ears until his horse let out a startled snort. A relieved sigh burst from his chest. “Still!”

  The gelding obeyed. Breton stroked his horse’s neck. “Check his legs.”

  “On it,” his friend replied. Breton kept a firm hand on Perin’s bridle while Maiten ran his hands down his horse’s legs. “Nothing broken and I don’t feel any swelling. Let him up?”

  Breton nodded and got to his feet. After gathering the reins, he ordered the gelding up. Perin shook his head and let out a low whinny. Perin managed to take a few steps when urged, but they were unsteady.

  “We can’t go far with him like that. We’re going to have to hope that those two don’t come back thinking us easy prey,” Maiten said.

  Breton nodded his agreement and almost hoped Gar and Halit would return. Next time, the Danarite wouldn’t have time to summon the skreed, of that he’d make certain.

  There was nothing in the Code that stated he couldn’t break all of their bones in search of answers, either.

  Verishi tugged at his sleeve. Breton glanced down at the girl. The hood was back in place over her hair and it hid her face in shadow despite the witchlight’s glow. “What is it?”

  “The horses want to go now.”

  Breton opened his mouth to reply, but Maiten tapped him on the shoulder. The red-haired man knelt in front of the Danarite girl. “Verishi, Perin is very special to Breton, and Perin’s hurt. Don’t tell Breton I said this, but he’s troubled enough without worrying about his horse, too. Gorakas is a fine young horse, but Breton’s been with Perin since before I was born.”

  The temptation to strangle Maiten rose and Breton fought against the desire. The corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Maiten…”

  “Did you hear something, Verishi?”

  The girl giggled and shook her head.

  “Now do you understand why we can’t just leave now? We have to be careful with Perin.”

  “Selestrune likes Perin,” she said. “She likes Breton, too. She really likes the horse man.”

  “Your Selestrune has good sense,” Maiten replied. “I’m glad someone likes them all, though. They’re good people. Maybe they’re both a little rough sometimes, but that’s part of why I like them.”

  “She likes you too”

  “It’s nice to be liked by a goddess. Maybe she likes us enough to let us find His Majesty a little faster,” Maiten said.

  “Don’t count on it,” Breton muttered. If gods, goddesses, or divines of any sort existed, he was content to leave things just as they were: They didn’t bother him, he didn’t bother them, and they didn’t interfere with the Rift.

  Maiten muttered a few words and made some gestures and summoned a second witchlight. Sweat beaded on his friend’s brow. “Why don’t you help us set up the camp tonight, Verishi?”

  “Don’t go far,” Breton said.

  “I’ll be careful, don’t worry. I’ll be armed, and should those two be foolish enough to show up again, I won’t bother talking to them this time.”

  Breton nodded and turned his attention to the horses. When Verishi was absorbed in digging a pit for the fire, he stared at her. Few reports came from Danar, but their hatred for the Kelshites, many of whom did have blonde hair, was legendary. Why hadn’t she been killed for her hair color? Why did she speak of the Danarite goddess with such enthusiasm after being quiet for most of the journey?

  It was like she’d become a different child than the one they’d picked up near Land’s End.

  Who was Verishi?

  She turned to him as though she could hear his thoughts. In the white glow of the witchlight, the girl smiled.

  ~~*~~

  It was a battle that Breton was losing, but he didn’t care. If he loosened his grip on Ferethian’s reins, Kalen’s horse would disappear. Then both of them would be gone, alive in memory alone. The stallion struggled against his hold, stopping only to throw back his majestic head and let loose a piercing keen that carried with it the weight of grief. The cry was echoed moments later by Honey.

  Breton wanted to cry with them. The urge to go east was gone. His awareness of the Rift King had been snuffed out, and the feeling was the same as when Arik had died. It had struck with the force of a Scouring, and it was equally uncaring of what it destroyed.

  “Still, Ferethian!” Breton snatched at the bridle and the leather bands slipped through his finger. The stallion reared. Breton twisted out of the way of the striking hooves. Kalen’s horse tried to charge forward. Breton dug his heels in the loamy soil and held on to the reins. He was pulled forward several steps before Ferethian halted and let out another scream.

  ~Move, Maiten!~ Dorit’s voice thundered through Breton’s skull. His friend let out a startled cry. The Yadesh plowed into Honey’s side an
d rammed the mare down to the ground. She let out a squeal. With teeth clamped at the nape of Honey’s neck, the Yadesh threw his weight over the chestnut and kept her pinned beneath him.

  Maiten ducked beneath Ferethian’s hooves and snatched the stallion’s bridle. “Hellfires!”

  Leaving Maiten to hold bridle and reins, Breton wrapped his arms around the lathered stallion’s neck. Ferethian shook in his embrace. He rested his brow against the horse and struggled against the burning in his eyes and the tightness in his throat. “He’s gone.”

  “I know, I know. Hellfires!” The curse couldn’t mask the tears in Maiten’s voice.

  Breton pulled back enough to catch a glimpse of one of Ferethian’s eyes. The light that had burned so bright within the horse was extinguished, leaving behind nothing but darkness and grief. He hesitated and breathed in the horse’s scent and committed it to his memory, then he stepped away.

  “Let him go,” he whispered.

  “Breton, no! He’ll…” Maiten stared at him with wide eyes, his face ashen.

  “I know.”

  “Wait!” Verishi cried out. The girl ran over, clutching the jeweled dagger in one hand. With the other, she snatched at Ferethian’s tail. The edge sliced through the hairs. She held the strands close to her chest and backed away. Tears glistened in her eyes.

  “Let him go, Maiten.” Breton marveled at how calm his voice sounded.

  Maiten hung his head and removed the stallion’s bridle. Ferethian was gone the moment that than the last strap fell away, vanishing into the gloom of the early morning. Breton’s legs collapsed beneath his own weight, and he couldn’t force his hands to cease shaking.

  Ferethian’s bridle was draped over his shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do for Honey.”

  ~I will help her,~ the Yadesh said. ~I had to choose. I’m sorry.~

  “Things like that happen in the Rift,” Maiten acknowledged.

 

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