Rage of the Diamond's Eye (The Guildsmen Series Book 1)

by Becker, Shawn

  Nearly everyone.

  Myst had left just after dawn, mumbling something about finding her uncle. Tair had offered to help, but Myst had refused and told her simply to gather their gear at Teeg’s office. Tair had done so eagerly in the hope that Myst had decided they were to leave this town once and for all. She laid Myst’s pack along Teeg’s desk and took stock from the sheriff’s food stores. Tair even ‘borrowed’ a pair of traveling cloaks from the Windtopp. And there she waited for hours, sneaking in a few hours of sleep.

  No one came to bother her, for everyone knew of Teeg’s demise. This allowed her to sleep longer than she intended. She awoke with a start and stepped quickly outside. The clouds still held and the rain still fell, cold and dreary. Sighing irritably, Tair grabbed one of the cloaks and wrapped it around her, pulling the hood of the dark green material down to cover her face from the rain.

  The main street of Joram’s Bend was crowded with nothing but puddles reflecting the murky sky above. The townsfolk were too busy rebuilding or gathering their dead for burial. A small hill south of the town was where the burial grounds were located. It was, as tradition dictated, divided into five sections – each one representing the five families. Tair could see the hill from the southern ridge. She saw the clusters of people across the entire cemetery. It seemed every family lost someone. Her mind briefly touched on the fact that her Aunt was a harvester for the Dellis family and that perhaps she could have been slain.

  Smiling warmly at the thought, Tair continued her walk to the lift.

  Old Tagger the Toothless was there, ready to use his wiry arms to lower or lift those that required such transport. The old twit hurled a splotch of something dark between his teeth as Tair stepped on to the waiting plank. Tagger said nothing as he kicked the platform away and began lowering Tair down to the river, but his eyes hurled accusation after accusation: “This is your fault,” they seemed to say.

  The lift jolted to a halt and Tair was surprised to see Seban Jovast and his wife waiting to be taken up to Joram’s Bend. He seemed to be equally surprised, but Tair guessed that he assumed she had been killed by the creature he thought attacked his daughter. The Jovast patriarchs stepped past Tair without a word of thanks, their heads lowered so as not to continue eye contact. Tair watched them for a moment, sighed in resignation, and then continued her way to the river. The faster she found Myst, the faster they would be able to leave this town.

  The Tebis’non was much more turbulent here. Marking the tightest part of the bend, the river narrowed alarmingly, making it deeper. The mesa’s jagged rock base made it a treacherous section of the river, as well. Those unfamiliar with the bend wound up broken in pieces and then dragged to the bottom by the current. Myst was further upstream, crouched near the river’s edge, her back against a rocky outcropping of stone. Above her, fluttering in the steady rain was half of the rope bridge. Her short hair was flattened to her head, her clothes soaked. She held an object in her hands as she stared beyond the river. Tair walked over to her carefully, unsure of how her friend was going to treat her. As she moved around the scraggly bushes that lined the riverbank, Tair identified what Myst held.

  Teeg’s sword.

  “I couldn’t find his body,” Myst said as Tair approached. “I walked for miles downstream and I couldn’t find him, so I retraced my steps until I found myself here again.” Her eyes still scanned the other side of the river. “I found this, though.” She held the sword up briefly to show Tair and then let it drop, its tip clanking upon the rocks.

  “I’m sorry, Myst.”

  “It’s as though it were fate, you know?” Myst said, ignoring her friend. “It’s fate that we shouldn’t find his body. All that remains of him is what made him whole in the first place.” At that she stood, holding the sword before her. “He would want me to have his sword.”

  “Sheriff Teeg would have kicked you in the rear and told you to take better care of your own sword,” Tair said with an impish smile.

  Myst finally locked eyes with Tair. Though lined with tears and exhaustion, there was a simmering rage still brewing beyond. For a moment, Tair thought she had gone too far with her joke, but Myst soon gave her an appreciative smile. “Yes, he would have,” she said softly.

  “You saved my life…again,” Tair said, recalling Vettis’s hands on her sore throat.

  Myst nodded as tears began to run down her face unchecked. “There’s nothing left,” she sobbed.

  Tair could only watch in uncomfortable silence while Myst’s body shook from grief. She dropped her uncle’s sword and fell to her knees, refusing to notice the pain she had to have felt from the jagged rocks of the riverbank. Tair patted Myst awkwardly on the shoulder. She was not accustomed to such sorrow and had no clue on how to support or sympathize with her friend. All Tair could do was stand beside her as Myst released the over burdening sadness that enveloped her.

  When Myst finally gained control, her hand reached out and grasped the hilt of the sword. “I swear to you, uncle,” she said, her voice low, full of resolve. “I will find a way to avenge you. The Zynnashans will pay for your death and the deaths of those we knew.”

  Tair said nothing as Myst made her vow, but her mind reeled from the comment. How could Myst make such a promise? Was she now going to wage war against the entire Zynnashan attack force? Tair shook her head in silence. She was all for leaving Joram’s Bend to explore the world, but she had no desire to follow a gang of angry Zyn Beasts and challenge them to a duel. Still, she knew her friend well enough not to say anything against her vow – at least not at the moment. Tair knew that once Myst calmed down, she would think this through with her usual rationality.

  Myst stood and slid the sword in the sheath strapped to her back, oblivious to the fact that it fit just as securely as her former blade. “Did you get the gear together?”

  “Yes,” Tair answered as they began to walk toward the lift. “I even packed some food for the journey to wherever it is we’re going.”

  Myst said nothing as they rode the lift up to the town proper. A few townsfolk watched them, whispering words of gossip as the two young women marched to the Sheriff’s quarters. There they found the packs Tair had prepped. Myst searched her uncle’s private chamber and found the portrait he had told her about. It was a painting of Joram’s Bend from across the river during sunrise. Myst was unsure if her uncle had painted this himself or if he only purchased it. It only served to remind her how little she knew about her beloved uncle. She lifted the painting and found a niche carved into the wall behind it. A small leather pouch lay there, filled with gold and silver crowns; currency saved for a retirement that would never be used. Stifling a sob, Myst took the pouch and replaced the painting, giving silent thanks to her uncle one last time.

  The door to the Sheriff’s office was yanked open as Myst left Teeg’s personal quarters. An older male entered, framed by two of the town’s militia. The aged man had deep lines set into his tanned face – a common trait with many of the elderly farmers here. His hair was like a billowy mess of white cotton, his eyes a scornful brown. The old farmer might have been tall once, but now he was bent over, stepping into the room with the aid of a worn cane of wood. He moved quickly for a man his age and thrust a gnarled finger at her. “I understand you were with my son when he was murdered.”

  Thaddik Hillden – Vettis’s father, motioned for the two militia men to follow him as he confronted Tair.

  “I was there when he tried to murder me.”

  The Hillden patriarch spit at Tair. “Liar!”

  Tair took a step back at the same time his two escorts stepped forward, hands on the hilts of their swords. Thaddik slammed his walking cane upon the stone floor as he spoke, “The council will put you to rights. I assure you; you will pay for my son’s murder and for the money wrongfully taken from our village coffer!”

  Tair felt her hands slip toward her bone-handled daggers. She was far too tired to deal with this sort of thing and her patience with th
ese farming fools had run its course. Myst, however, appeared on the steps behind them, her new sword shining even in the dull gray light that seeped through the windows of the building.

  “And I assure you, Elder Hillden,” Myst said dangerously, “that Vettis was murdered by a Zynnashan while his back was turned. It sliced his head off clean with one of our own sharpened scythes.”

  All three men turned in surprise, the two militia members carefully eying Myst’s sword. They knew her skill and knew not to test it. “How can you know this, Mystrianna?”

  “I was there. I saw it.”

  “As was I,” said a plump silhouette in the doorway. Laridiya stepped in, her brown cloak sodden from the rain. “I will attest to Myst’s account of what happened. You were not there, Elder.”

  “You are an outsider,” Thaddik said indignantly. “I do not believe the council will hinge their decisions upon an outsider’s view.”

  “Perhaps not,” Laridiya said with a gracious smile. “But they will for their new village shaman.”

  Thaddik’s head turned from Laridiya, to Myst, and then to Tair. His eyes scrunched close, giving each woman what he considered his most terrifying stare. “There is a conspiracy here,” he growled.

  “There is no conspiracy, Elder,” Myst told him. “Vettis died in battle. Be happy he died in a glorious fashion.”

  Thaddik grumbled as he shoved past Laridiya and out the door into the waiting rain. The two guards seemed to shrug apologetically and quickly followed him.

  Laridiya tossed away her wet cloak and waddled over to one of the chairs that stood in the center of the main room. The seat protested with a slight groan as the druid made herself comfortable.

  “So, village shaman, huh,” Tair said with true admiration.

  Laridiya nodded absently as she watched Myst inventory her gear with sharp, jerky movements. “Yes,” she finally answered. “Seems one of the refugees is a distant cousin of the Malachi family. They have taken us in.”

  Tair nodded, her eyes straying to Myst. An uncomfortable silence fell, marred only by the sound of Myst grabbing her gear and then roughly shoving it back into her shoulder pack.

  “And where are you two off to?”

  “Well, we thought maybe we’d travel on to…”

  “We’re going to kill the monster that murdered my uncle,” Myst said coldly, interrupting Tair without even glancing up at her.

  “Just the two of you?” Laridiya said, folding her hands across her round belly. “That is quite a goal. Are you certain you wouldn’t like to remain here?”

  Both Myst and Tair gave off an emphatic “NO!”

  Myst jerked her gear bag shut and slung it over her shoulder; she also grabbed the sack containing the foodstuffs Tair collected for their journey. “I have nothing left here. My uncle, who was more of a father to me than my own, perished to save this town – and we cannot even give him a proper burial because the river took his body. I will give his death meaning by returning the favor to that lion-headed bastard that killed him.”

  “He sacrificed himself to save the men, women, and children of this town,” Laridiya said pleadingly. “He and the rest of you repelled an attack by an elite group of Zynnashans. That is no easy feat! Your victory lies mostly to his sacrifice…do not sully that act by throwing your own life away.”

  Myst’s eyes stayed cold, their gaze moving from Laridiya to Tair. “Laridiya, I thank you for your healing and your friendship during the last few days. I wish you well on your appointment here in Joram’s Bend.”

  And with that Myst was gone.

  “I’ve never seen her like this,” Tair whispered to Laridiya.

  “It is her way to grieve,” the druid said to her. “Stay with her as she copes. I pray to Ethaea that she sees through her rage before it kills you both.”

  Tair nodded and gave the druid a weak smile before following Myst out into the dreary morning. She found her friend standing in the center of the road, facing her father. Torvel Almdor was soaked to the skin, his rumpled robes of office sticking to his muscular frame. He held both arms out, resting the palms of his hands upon her shoulders. He was speaking to her, pleading. Myst’s eyes remained fixed upon the mud-churned mesa stone.

  As she neared them, she could hear his words. He was begging her to stay, rescinding his banishment. When Tair stood behind her, Torvel’s eyes met hers and they lit with a small glimmer of hope.

  “I will even have the council remove the charges from Tair’Lianne. You do not have to leave, my daughter. She can remain on the estate and we can rebuild our farmlands together as a family. I have already lost a brother; I do not wish to lose you, too.”

  Myst’s eyes rose slowly to meet her father’s own. She refused to blink the rain out of them, giving Torvel no respite from her cold gaze. “You lost us a long time ago,” she said icily. “Even when we were right in front of you, you failed to listen to us. I told you, hours before the attack, to sound the gathering bell. You could’ve saved hundreds of lives. Instead, you chose to sacrifice one family member and banish another. I want no part of your family.”

  Myst turned her back upon her sobbing father and marched toward the lift with one arm clutching Tair’s.

  “Where are we going?” Tair asked, hoisting her pack up to a more comfortable level.

  “Down to the dock to get a boat,” Myst answered, wiping rain and tears from her cheeks. “Then we’re going to make the Zynnashans pay for what they did.”

  Tair walked along Myst’s side for a few steps in silence before asking, “And how are we to do that?”

  Myst stopped and turned to her, a familiar gleam in her eye. “By taking the one thing they came here looking for. We’re going to find those thieves before they do and if the Zyn Beasts want their diamond, then they will have to face us.

  “If you do not wish to come, I will understand.”

  Tair held up her hands and smiled. “No, no…you had me at diamond.”

  ***

  The dawn service at the High Temple of Diathanos had just concluded. The people of Kaalé were filing out of the Grand Cathedral, still enraptured by the sermon given to them by Chancellor Tevic. The Chancellor greeted a few of his patrons, taking care to bow before some of the royal family before striding away. Flanked by two Palidiamos, Vius walked briskly down the wide, marble halls of House Diathanos toward the wing that held his massive living quarters. He waved his guard away with a quick twist of his wrists and entered his suite alone.

  Waiting for him was Cassius Devore.

  “Another uplifting sermon, Chancellor,” Cassius said, giving Vius a short bow.

  Tevic did not reply immediately. The Chancellor went to a nearby vanity table, checked his reflection, and began removing some of the silver and gold jewelry he wore upon his wrists and fingers, dropping them irritably in a platinum bowl.

  “Have they fled?”

  Cassius nodded, watching the Chancellor throw the last ring he wore into the bowl with a noisy clatter. “They stopped at the Guild, took some supplies. I checked the Dragon’s Tale and no one saw them go in. They must have left the city without magic.

  “Ayce and Tienn went with them.”

  Tevic turned at the change in Cassius’s tone. “Your friends have sided with him, have they? No matter. I will send a few squads to search the local villages, but I doubt I will find the Magi.”

  Cassius bristled at the callous attitude Vius gave him. “My friends did not approve of your methods.”

  “I need approval from no one but the Light Bringer,” Tevic said warningly. The Chancellor reverently removed a white sash that sparkled with diamond dust and laid it upon an ebony stand.

  “Some of the initiates have quit,” Cassius added.

  Tevic looked at the former knight through the mirror before him. “You will find more,” the Chancellor said soothingly. “I promise you.”

  “I will need to find new trainers. I know of a few former Guildsmen that live in Bornos. I can leave tomor
row…”

  Tevic faced Cassius once more. “I have another mission for you.”

  Cassius folded his arms over his muscular chest. “You do not control me, Chancellor. I will go where I choose. The Guild is not at the beck and call of House Diathanos.”

  “If the Guild wishes to remain in Kaalé, I suggest its Guild Master had better become more pliable in the affairs of state.” The steady tone Tevic used gave Cassius a chill down his spine. The Chancellor could have the Guild razed to the ground and no one would stop him. “Think of it as though I am hiring the Guild to perform a service.”

  Cassius sighed. “And what can the Defender’s Guild do for you, your Eminence?”

  “I want you to travel to Fhaalvak and make certain your former comrades do not interfere with what I have planned there.”

  Cassius right eyebrow arched up. “And what do you have planned?”

  “The details I wish to keep secret until the deal is done,” Tevic replied sternly. “Trust me, Cassius. When all is complete, House Diathanos, Kaalé, and the Defender’s Guild will become the pinnacle of righteousness and justice. Nothing will be able to threaten our way of life.”

  “I take it that is where Protector D’ghelle has traveled to?”

  “Yes,” Tevic answered. “Allow him to finish his task. The Magi will attempt to halt the meeting I have arranged. Stop him at all costs.”

  “And that is all?” Cassius prodded.