Voices of Blaze (Volume 5 of The Fireblade Array)

by H. O. Charles

  It made her think of

  Morghiad’s unruly waves of ebony, and the roughened Hirrahan braids that he now favoured. Artemi quickly shoved those images into a very dark corner of her mind so that she could continue her study. And the more she did examine this man, the more she suspected that he would not be the sort to hurry to bed with a woman he hardly knew.

  “What brings you to our city?” he asked politely.

  “Oh, just... work. On the port at the upper side of the city. Lifting, carrying – nothing too mentally taxing.”

  His tidy forehead became a mess of creases. “That is unusual work for a woman of your... pardon me – your bearing.”

  She smiled as sweetly as she could. “I’m stronger than I appear. What do you do?”

  “You don’t know?”

  Artemi shook her head.

  “Well, I’m the adjudicator

  for this city. So... you’re not here to bribe me for something?”

  Oh, well that did put her coy smiles and offers of drinks into a very different context indeed. “Ah, no. I’m not.”

  His face grew serious. “Then what is it that you want?”

  “I would have thought it was obvious.”

  Artemi was doing a very bad thing, she thought as she followed him down to one ofthe cavelets beneath the tavern. She

  did not even have a good idea of how mating would work in this world, or ifan injra would be necessary. Oh, you are an old prude! Silar would have said, but he was not here now. He almost certainly would have said worse things to her than that.

  When the adjudicator closed the door behind her, Artemi began to disrobe. It was a cold and awkward thing when he kissed her, and midway through, Artemi placed a small drop of

  taqqa beneath both their tongues to make it easier. After some moments of increasingly frantic caresses, quite unexpectedly, he wrapped his wings around her so that she was almost entirely cloaked by them. His claws dug deeply into her shoulders the tighter he held her, but the pain of it was subsumed by the oddly pleasant sensations she began to feel from him.

  It was a strange manner of mating, she thought when they

  had finished, and she could not comprehend how an injra could ever be involved simultaneously. Most of all, she had found it something of a disappointment. There had been pleasant moments, certainly, but it did not even compare to the joy and the fire she had felt with Morghiad. Now she had her answer, but it did not stem the growing tide of guilt she felt.

  “Is it normally like that?” she asked the man when he

  awoke from his stupor.

  “Shouldn’t it be?” he replied with his heavy brows drawn into a frown. His voice was slow and deliberate, as if he were still barely awake.

  Artemi smiled thinly, and rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “How does an injra get pups?”

  “Do they not teach this sort of thing where you’re from?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, when it is your

  season, you will lay your eggs by your mate, and your injra of choice will incubate and eventually deliver them.”

  “So the injra is not part of the mating?”

  The man began laughing heartily, and Artemi knew it was time to leave.

  She dressed rapidly and left the adjudicator of fights where he was, his giggles now slowing as his eyelids drooped. Clearly he was not as resistant to taqqa as

  she had become, and he would probably slip back into the passive dream state before long. When she returned to the bar, she found Ravendasor looking for her. He grabbed her roughly by the wrist and hauled her out of the roof exit. “It’s over!” he said.

  “What is?”

  “Everything. All of it. I tried... I suggested what you said. For you. To impress you. Let’s talk first, I said. But they wouldn’t have any of it. I am not strong

  enough anymore, Emmi. Learkin beat me. I am no longer commander ofthis city. It’s over.” “I...” Artemi began. There was a faint ringing in the air – a familiar sound that she felt she ought to recognise, but did not. It sounded like the song of crystal glass or steel, and it sounded as if it sang only to her, but it was so very far away. There was also a hunger growing in the pit of her belly; she would need another dose of taqqa soon. That was

  what was important here, not stupid songs she could barely hear.

  He took her by the arms and shook her. “Don’t you see, Emmi? We cannot change! We are stuck like this.”

  Blazes, but he did remind her of Marteus! They were so similar in the manner that they spoke, and the only difference was the hope she heard in their words. Marteus had always believed in what he could

  achieve, but this man was lost. He had a hole in his heart like she did. “You must believe-”

  “What are these marks on your shoulder?” he asked with his brows drawn down. “Have you-?” He studied them intently, looking them over and over as if scrutiny would make them disappear. “Father of Storms,” he roared, “I thought you had promised yourself to me!”

  “I belong to no one!” Artemi hissed back. She pulled

  herself away from him, and went in search ofthe light she so badly needed.

  Morghiad had slept fitfully that night, and still had not

  changed out of the previous day’s clothing. He tore off his crumpled shirt and went to the washstand to make himself more presentable. It was always strange, he thought when he saw himself in the mirror, to see his body so free of scars. By the time he had died in his first life, he had accrued dozens from battles and bouts with eisiels. In his second life, he had spent enough years tearing about the Calidellian countryside, picking

  fights with bandits and ruffians to earn himself a new collection. But this body was smooth as a newborn babe’s.

  And if the other countries dug out the eisiel farms as they had promised they would do, and Mirel remained locked in her cell, it was entirely possible that his future bodies would not sustain pinh-filled scars ever again. His eyes flicked up to his lidir. Already they had grown out too much to be neat. They needed rebraiding desperately, but he had no time to busy himself with looking pretty. Perhaps when all this treaty business was done and he had Artemi around to impress, he would have his hair tied and oiled so that it shone in the shadows.

  Morghiad bathed himself quickly, excavated a clean set of clothes from the pile and decided he would search for Romarr. Kalad still slumbered peacefully, so Morghiad made sure to place

  two guards in the room whilst he was gone. It turned out that Romarr had been accommodated in chambers just a short walk down the hall, and Morghiad was glad to find the man already dressed and awake when he arrived.

  “I need to think,” he told the assassin, “and I really need a good fight so that I can do some good thinking.”

  Romarr chuckled loudly enough that even Koviere would

  have struggled to be heard over the sound, and nodded. “You plan to use that white sword of yours though? I don’t want my gales damaged – new ones are hard to come by these days!”

  “There’s a form you can use to protect your swords. Artemi showed me it - it doesn’t last forever, but it’ll do for a single fight.”

  “Hmm. Come in.” Romarr waved one of his meaty hands in invitation and called, “Sel? Could

  use some of your fire.”

  The wielder emerged in her dressing gown and night clothes, and giggled when Morghiad tried his best to look away. “At your service,” Selieni said. Morghiad had not noticed it when he had seen her before, but she had cropped her golden hair close to her head like a Calidellian boy’s. That was curious.

  When she and Morghiad had completed the form, Romarr examined it closely with his

  ancient eyes. “I remember this one now. Hadn’t seen it for a good few thousand years. Some of the things that girl remembers...” He shook his head. “Makes me worry what else I’ve forgotten.”

  As he finished speaking, Morghiad could not help but notice what was going on
behind his back. Selieni and Anadea were... kissing. Morghiad blinked twice, but was still quite sure he did not understand. True, he had seen enough ofthe world to know that women did as men did, but Selieni... after all the times she had pursued him!

  He quickly moved his eyes back to Romarr’s swords and made a comment about how he missed Artemi, and after that the two of them departed for one of the courtyard practice areas.

  Romarr was, as Morghiad had suspected, a better swordsman than he. To anyone else watching the fight, they

  might have appeared evenly matched, but that was only because Romarr was being courteous. Though Morghiad had received a great deal of Kusuru training in his previous life, it had not been to nearly the same extent as Artemi, Mirel, Romarr or any of the other members of The Dedicated. Morghiad had been trained swiftly and economically– he had been given enough skill to defeat his wife in a very specific situation. The

  room where he had captured her had been small, and the distractions he had provided her had been strong ones.

  In any other situation, he was the weaker fighter, which Artemi had been happy to demonstrate in subsequent years. It would take a few more centuries to match their abilities fully, but Morghiad had a good few centuries to occupy himself with.

  Inevitably, his mind

  returned to the problem he had to solve. How to get Dorinna off his blazed back?! Or indeed, out of his breeches?

  Morghiad leapt sideways to dodge another swipe from Romarr’s twin gale swords.

  What was needed was a weakness. Dorinna had to have vulnerabilities, and ones that Morghiad could exploit without putting the treaty at risk.

  He spun rapidly, and struck hard at Romarr’s left side. Romarr slipped free ofthe swipe like silk passing over polished steel. Not even his clothing was touched by the blade’s tip.

  Her children, he thought, would make excellent tools to bargain with. He knew they were here in the castle, and what mother would not give up the things she desired to keep her babies safe? He could kidnap all ofthem, or perhaps just one, and then hold it hostage until she signed her part ofthe treaty. It

  was not an honourable thing to do, but it would be easy. And for the sake of staying true to his wife, he would do it in a heartbeat.

  He recalled a time when he had prepared to sign his country away so that Artemi could live. A thousand more men might have died if Morghiad had handed his crown to Febain, but then, another four-thousand might have lived if Febain had sat the throne while Mirel rampaged.

  Morghiad stumbled as his mind touched on those days of madness again. They were still difficult times to remember.

  “Continue?” Romarr asked, his brow furrowing.

  “Continue,” Morghiad replied.

  The whirl of blades started up again, and Morghiad resumed his thinking. He would have given up anything for Artemi’s life, anything.

  This is notfor her life, the

  creatures in his mind whispered. But she may live longer in lives to come if you rule the worms.

  What did they care if she lived?

  She feeds us, and we are so very hungry.

  Morghiad shook his head clear of them. It was true that a more peaceful continent might have made Artemi’s future lives better, but no peace of nations could put cutthroats and thieves out of business. Nothing could be guaranteed to protect her in the future, except him. No, a Sunidaran kahrling or two would get kidnapped, whether they liked it or not.

  They finished the fight when Morghiad was breathless and sweating profusely, which was an odd sensation given the chill he felt beneath his flesh.

  “You are a little unfit,” Romarr said, “But you have the potential to be as good as any of

  Morghiad could barely get the words of a reply out, but if he could, he would have thanked Romarr and agreed. Blazes, after riding across a continent and sailing those damned seas to find his son, he could not remember the last time he had practised with a blade!

  Morghiad went to lean against one of the pillars to recover, and removed his sweatsoaked shirt to allow his skin to cool. That was something else he

  could not remember doing in public for a long while - perhaps when he had been a very young man in Sunidara.

  “You do not disappoint,” a familiar voice said.

  Damn the woman! Would she not leave him alone?! Morghiad opened his eyes, and smiled politely at Sunidara’s queen. “Alas, I am not in as good shape as I once was.”

  “Everything looks in order to me,” she said sweetly.

  Morghiad searched vainly for Romarr, but found that the man had already made himself scarce. Burn him for leaving! “I have thought about the deal you offered me last night, my queen, and I have decided to decline. As attractive as it sounds, I fear it is not enough for me.”

  “Oh?” She stepped toward him as he straightened. “I suppose you have been thinking of ways to manipulate me. Let me tell you now, Green Eyes, that

  taking my children will not persuade me to change my mind. I know you are no murderer, and that you would not torture innocent men when the alternative is something so trifling as to bed a woman. So do not try to threaten me with that. I also-”

  “Then I will imprison them. For life.”

  Dorinna raised an eyebrow. “Really? Innocents, who have done you no harm? I do not believe you are as cruel as that.

  And what will the world think when they hear of the threats you make against my sons and daughter? What will your wife think of you – a woman who has fought so tirelessly to protect the innocent, a woman who has bled to correct injustices such as the one you are about to commit?”

  “Artemi will understand, and as for the world - the world will think you are an adulterous traitor to your country.”

  “But I have already told you – I care nothing for opinions of me. For you, however, the same is not true. Artemi is a woman with an inferno burning inside her. I have seen it in her eyes. Her kind can only afford to be disappointed once. Your indiscretions with me can remain secret, but anything you do to my children will make all of it public.” “And then what? The world will think well of me for upholding my vows to my wife. She will think the best of me for it of anyone.”

  She shook her head. “Ah, Morghiad. You still have much to learn about lies and words. It will be your word against mine that I have invited you to my bed. ‘I have taken her children in retaliation for her sexual demands ofme,’ you will plead to the many rulers of the lands. And I shall say, ‘Oh no – Morghiad took my babies because I refused to lie with him. He hungeredfor me, slathered over me in the absence

  of his Artemi. I am a married woman. In all the centuries I have been married to my husband, I have never strayed once. Why would a good wife – a good queen such as I am - do such a thing? But this Morghiad, he was named by Calidell as a criminal, and some say he murdered his beautiful wife. Who knows what depths of depravity he will sink to?’” Her brow darkened. “Give me what I want, Morghiad Calyrish. You do not have a choice.” With that, she sashayed into the red haze of the hallways with her shoulders so relaxed that nothing appeared to trouble her at all.

  She was not pretty, Morghiad decided, not with that ugliness inside of her. Dorlunh! Where was that blasted Dorlunh when he was needed?

  Do not trust that one, the monsters began, but Morghiad ignored them.

  He grabbed the clothing he had dispensed with, sheathed his white sword and sprinted back to his chambers as fast as he could. After bathing and changing a second time, and pacing about a somewhat confused Kalad, Morghiad was glad to see the wiry little Kusuru admit himself to their chambers carrying a huge sheaf of papers.

  “Come with me,” Morghiad said, dragging Dorlunh into the sitting room and closing the door behind him. “I need your help.”

  Dorlunh flicked his pale

  ponytail over his shoulder and folded his arms. He had to be the only assassin who rarely walked about with his swords at his back. “Of course you do.”

  “It’s Queen
Dorinna. I need to know her weaknesses – vulnerabilities – anything. You were right, politics are not my forte. How do I undo her?”

  “Undo?”

  Morghiad looked to the window to check that no one was dangling outside to listen, and

  then returned to the conversation. “Manipulate. I want her to sign the treaty no matter what.”

  “It is her husband who must sign it. She is merely his mouthpiece,” Dorlunh said.

  “She controls him.”

  Dorlunh frowned lightly. “What is she up to?”

  Morghiad thought of telling Dorlunh everything, but if he had... if he did have to go through with this, and Artemi found out...

  Blazes, why was he thinking of going through with this?! “That is for me to know, Dorlunh. You said you could help.”

  “I can help ifI know what hold she has over you.”

  “Has she ever betrayed her husband? You’ve seen him, what he’s like - she must have-”