Embers of a Broken Throne

by Terry C. Simpson

  Ancel nodded as understanding bloomed. “And the fastest way to them would be to come through the Netherwood. We have to warn my father.”

  “It won’t make a difference,” Ryne said.

  Ancel snapped his head in Ryne’s direction, eyes narrowing.

  “Your father is already set in his ways. I think he’s done as much as he can with what he has.” Ryne gestured out toward the city and its shadowy ruins. “He’s kept some of the strongest Forgers closest to and atop the walls. I will be honest. If Varick’s forces can breach the Netherwood, they will take this city.”

  Ancel growled in frustration. It was pointless to have sacrificed so much, come this far, only to lose.

  “There is something you can do,” Ryne said.

  “What?” He was willing to try almost anything.

  “Have Irmina tame some of the Netherwood’s beasts.”

  “What?” Despite his surprise Ancel stopped to think. He turned to Irmina, the spark of an idea growing. “Can you—?”

  “No, I can’t.” She shook her head. “Remember when I tried to tame Charra?”

  “But he’s different, he’s a—” Ancel stopped himself. He still needed to keep Charra’s secret. Not only because of everyone’s possible overreaction, but also something about his pet said he must. “Just trust me.”

  “I do trust you, but most creatures in Ostania are incredibly difficult to tame.” Irmina glared in Ryne’s direction. “When he had Sakari set a rockhound on me I had difficulty taking the beast.”

  Shocked, Ancel regarded Ryne, the image of a rockhound from one his books coming to mind. Made of sediment and stone like the Svenzar and Sven whose territories most of the beasts called home, rockhounds were larger than the average wolf and known for their loyalty and determination. The books said a rockhound did not stop until it killed its prey.

  The big man shrugged. “She was being a nuisance.”

  “So you set a rockhound on her?”

  “I had seen the way she controlled the eagles she had,” Ryne said. “I knew she was going to be fine.”

  Ancel gave an exasperated shake of his head. “Whatever.” He turned to Irmina once more. “Seeing that you did manage, I think we should at least give it a try.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, stopped, and then said. “A day, and then that’s it.”

  “Well,” Mirza said, “while you two are off playing with animals I’ll speak to the Seifer and the Nema, have them scout out the forest’s edge for the most likely places to break through.”

  In the process of nodding his assent Ancel noted a soldier approaching them, the telltale crimson of the uniform under his cloak identifying him as one of their Dagodins. White hair spilled around his hood. The man stopped before them and bowed

  “Speak, Dagodin Hassan,” Irmina said, her tone formal.

  “We located the ones you sought,” Hassan said. “We’ve taken their families to them and came to find you as requested.”

  A smile lit up Irmina’s face

  Ancel tilted his head to one side. “What families?”

  She was grinning now. “Why, the ones brought here by the Pathfinders, of course.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. You must have sensed the tension around here. I had to do something. Besides,” she added, turning to Mirza, her eyes twinkling, “I wanted to find your mother.”

  Mirza’s mouth went slack.

  “Well,” Irmina said, placing one hand on her waist, “say something.”

  “Hydae’s Flames,” he whispered.

  They all burst out laughing.

  Ancel clapped his friend on the back. “Imagine that, Mirz, she finds your mother and those are your first words.”

  “I, I should go to her.” A tear trickled down Mirza’s cheek.

  “Hassan, take your Lieutenant to his mother,” Irmina said.

  Feeling as if he should be there with his best friend, and remembering the pain in Mirza’s face every time he spoke of his mother, Ancel made to follow. Irmina’s hand on his arm stopped him. She shook her head. He understood. Mirza would be better off savoring this special moment alone. Chest swelling at the idea of his friend’s happiness, Ancel watched him hurry after the Dagodin.

  “Well I almost couldn’t ask for a better way to end the day,” he said. “It’s as good a time as any to get some rest.” He nodded to Ryne. The man had been a little distant since entering the city, even more so within the castle. “Are you really going to try what you said inside?”

  “Yes. I want to scout out Varick’s forces myself and see if I can sway him.”

  “You think he would listen?” Ancel certainly hoped he could avoid more bloodshed for now, particularly from a potential enemy who might not realize who was behind his actions.

  “He will listen. What he will do then is something I do not know.” Grim determination reflected in Ryne’s features.

  “Fair enough.”

  Irmina coughed. “You’re asking after everyone else but me.” Her hand snaked around Ancel’s arm.

  “This … is where I take my leave,” Ryne said.

  Blushing, Ancel made to reply but the giant was already striding down an alley. Ancel sighed. “Before we get distracted, I need you to do something.”

  “Anything.” Irmina’s lips curved into a sly smile.

  “Seriously.”

  “I am serious.”

  “Fine,” he said, suppressing a grin. “There’s a man, Gavril Cortens, an old Banai friend of my father’s. Jerem said he holds some sway in the Banai courts. You must still have contacts from when you were a Raijin. Have them find him for me, let him know who I am and that I request a meeting.”

  “I’ll see it done before morning. By the way,” she added, growing serious. “I meant to ask you … did Jerem ever tell you that Quintess was a Listener, that the netherlings know of some place called an Entosis? It’s supposed to be important. Apparently they also intended for you to be taught so you could destroy the Chainins.”

  “Yes. I had forgotten about the conversation. It’s no longer a concern. Not with the netherlings locked behind the Vallum. As for the Chainins, I told you I will do as needed to prevent their use by the enemy.”

  “And this Entosis? What is it?”

  “We can speak on it another day.”

  “Fine.” Her hand slid around his waist, “I don’t want to be forward, but—”

  “You don’t?” He inhaled her scent. Bellflowers, he thought, and wondered how she could smell so good after a long day.

  “Not at all, but it’s been weeks since we last …”

  Ancel’s face grew warm. He recalled a time when mention of bedding a woman held no qualms for him. Except when it came to Kachien and Irmina. The thought of Kachien brought on a brief sense of melancholy.

  “What?” Irmina squeezed his arm. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No, not at all.” He quickly made himself perk up. “I was just thinking about everything we’ve endured so far. Anyway, forget about all that. You were saying something about being forward.”

  When she opened her mouth to speak, he kissed her, long and hard. She came away breathless, eyes shining in the torchlight.

  “Why do you think I said the day almost couldn’t end any better?” He held her close, feeling every curve, the heat of her body, his manhood ready for the occasion. “You can tell me more about it when we’re in bed.”

  “I’ll do better. I’ll show you.”

  He grinned and led her to the house set aside for them. For tonight, he would put his concerns behind him. It had been too long since he had some enjoyment.

  Chapter 18

  Irmina sat bolt upright. In an instant she’d sunk into the Eye, shedding the sense of fear and worry that had woken her. She drew in the essences, ready to lash out. But the room was empty save for Ancel still under the covers mumbling incoherently.

  Twisting her neck from side to side, she inhaled and exhaled long and low, easin
g her heart rate. The room smelled of mold and muskiness, old sex and rotted wood, furs and pelts that made up the bed on the stone floor. Warmth radiated from the sunlight spearing through the villa’s windows at an angle that said it was a short time after dawn. Dust motes swirled, tiny creatures playing an aimless game on a breath of air. Gray walls adorned her surroundings, paint peeling, bricks cracked like parched earth. The red and orange eyes of coals peered at her from the hearth.

  What had woken her? Surely—

  A distant animal’s roar echoed outside. Howls and barking grunts picked up the call from the same area. More followed, this time from inside Benez. The cacophony set her insides quivering.

  Gaze locked on the open door to the room they’d chosen, Irmina reached out to shake Ancel’s shoulder. “Get up, there’s—”

  Ancel rose as quickly as she had, his sword appearing from under the blankets and furs. The Etchings on his right arm glowed bright, an incandescent spider-web of seamless lines and pictures, colors like the rainbow reflection from a shard of glass. His chest heaved, slick with sweat to match his face’s sheen, and his eyes were unfocused.

  Freezing in place, Irmina held her breath, waiting for him to sort his bearings. The sword lowered inch by inch. After a moment his breathing grew normal.

  “I had a dream,” he said. eyes like a clear sea as they focused.

  The roars and howls repeated.

  “Charra,” Ancel uttered, the word a barely audible whisper.

  “I know.” She recognized the daggerpaw’s roar as if it were her own voice.

  “How long now?”

  “I don’t know. The noise woke me.”

  A grimace marred Ancel’s features. His gaze clouded, emerald eyes narrowing in concentration. “I can … I can feel him.” He shook his head. “He’s pulling me.”

  “Then I suggest we follow.”

  The roar echoed again. She had a general idea of its location, somewhere in the Netherwood.

  Without another word Ancel threw off the covers and stood, sunlight falling across his nakedness. She could trace the intricate lines of his Etchings across his body. Though incomplete they existed on every limb up to his neck, a masterwork of living art.

  Following his lead she got up and dressed in her leathers. Although she wanted to put on a cloak, if they were heading into the forest, it would be a hindrance. By the time she finished, Ancel was strapping on his sword belt with his longsword attached. Diagonally over his back another belt held a scabbard with his shorter weapon.

  Eyes serious, if a bit worried, he glanced over to her. “Ready?”

  She nodded. For the first time of late she would be at his side in the midst of possible danger. It set her heart beating faster.

  When they stepped outside Mirza was waiting for them. So were Edsel and Stefan.

  “We were coming to wake you,” Stefan said to his son. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s Charra.”

  “It is,” Ancel answered.

  “Your father told me of this daggerpaw of yours,” Edsel said. “I don’t know why he would go out into the Netherwood. None of our animals dare. Even if he’s as big as your father claims I doubt he’s a match for what’s in there. I’ve seen those creatures tear apart several Forgers. My men have reported that the wolves, the lapras, and the daggerpaws work together.”

  “Lapras?” Ancel asked.

  “Normally they’re the size of a wolf, bristling with black, green, or brownish fur.” Edsel shifted his head so his single golden eye took her in. “Black for one that’s infected with the shade, green for the forest version, and brown for plains lapras. Like a few of Ostania’s beasts, they have six legs, claws that can gut a man with a swipe. They tend to hunt in packs, but the different types are natural enemies, territorial. The ones in Netherwood are several times larger, some bigger than a horse. You can ask your Beastsinger here. They don’t take well to taming.”

  It wasn’t the first time Edsel referred to her as a Beastsinger. She hadn’t thought much on it before, but perhaps the man knew something others didn’t about her ability. The problem with asking him was his obvious animosity.

  “I know how attached to Charra you are.” A painful expression crossed Stefan’s face. “I also know he has some power, but he cannot fight an entire forest. I’ve seen what happens to creatures caught in a lapra frenzy. It’s never pretty. You—” Stefan shook his head, shoulders slumping. “You’re going after him, aren’t you?”

  Ancel nodded, his expression leaving no room for argument “We were going to the Netherwood today anyway.”

  “For what purpose?” Edsel asked.

  “To see if I can tame any of its creatures.” She watched for Edsel’s reaction.

  “I’d visit the Banai or Felani first if I were you,” he said. “Especially the Banai. Stefan can confirm they have some skill with taming.”

  “We don’t have time for such a trip,” Ancel said.

  “I don’t think it’s worth the risk. Not for a daggerpaw.”

  “Not any daggerpaw.” Ancel’s gaze was steely. “My daggerpaw. My friend.”

  “And if she fails?” Edsel’s single eye was more than a little disconcerting as he regarded her.

  Irmina shrugged, feigning confidence. She still recalled the failure when she attempted to tame Charra, how the daggerpaw thrust her from his mind. “I won’t know until I try. Besides I doubt it’s any harder to control than a zyphyl.”

  Edsel gaped. Irmina couldn’t help a satisfied smile. The old man turned to Stefan. “You didn’t mention—”

  “In all the fuss it slipped my mind. None of us can see the thing anyway.” Stefan cast his gaze to the cloud-shrouded sky. “She says it’s up there, watching over us.”

  “What can it do?” Edsel craned his neck, head bobbing from side to side.

  “Well,” she said, “it can pick out nearby Forges for one.”

  Edsel gave Stefan an incredulous stare. “That could change everything.” He spread his arms. “Why didn’t you mention this last night during our plans?”

  “I seldom rely on things I don’t understand,” Stefan said. “But if it makes you feel any better, I also didn’t want to reveal her secret to everyone. Too many spies of late, too many people who aren’t what they appear to be. Quintess and Trucida already know and can dispatch Matii as Irmina sees fit.” Stefan’s confidence in her made Irmina’s chest swell.

  “Very well,” Edsel said, clearly not pleased.

  “Anyway.” Stefan brought his attention back to Ancel. “Son, I know I’ve been out of sorts lately. I also know you’ve defended us many times, but,” he paused, “I can’t help it that I’m worried every time. You’re all I have left. I know I cannot stop you from doing this, but all I ask is for both of you to be careful.”

  “I’ll keep him out of trouble.” She offered Stefan a reassuring smile.

  “So will I.” Mirza planted his long-hafted scythe on his shoulder. Dressed in woolen britches, a shirt with a leather jacket tossed over it, he glanced from one to the other as if daring someone to say differently.

  “Not this time, Mirz.” Ancel strode over to his friend. He rested one hand on Mirza’s empty shoulder. “As much as I would like you at my side, my father and the others will need you here. Keep the walls safe for us. Your mother’s life will depend on it.”

  Mirza shook his head and made to protest.

  The roar echoed again. Answering replies abounded within the forest, followed by the subsequent reaction from Benez’s animals. Even the horses and other livestock joined the din.

  When the noise ended, Ancel approached Stefan. They hugged. She couldn’t hear what words passed, but tears trickled down Stefan’s face. Once they released their hold the older Dorn put on a brave face and nodded.

  “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.” Stefan gazed at her, emerald eyes soft. “We’ve had our differences, but you are as much a daughter to me as if I still had my own. I don’t know what I would do if you d
idn’t return.”

  A pained expression crossed Ancel’s face. “Father—Never mind.”

  Stefan’s words made her feel better than she expected. During the trip she’d thought to approach him, to question him concerning her parents, but a good opportunity never presented itself. Not with his outbursts. She had tried not to think on it much, but the Dorns were now the only real family left to her. Or at least the closest thing to family.

  “I’ll return, Uncle.” It had been a long time since she’d called him that. Saying the words was more than a bit awkward considering her relationship with Ancel, but at the same time they felt right.

  The roars and howls rolled from the forest once more, a sense of urgency about them.

  “It’s time for us to go.” Ancel strode over and held her hand.

  “You should take horses,” Edsel said, “or better yet, dartans. The first ones woke from hibernation a few days ago.”

  Stefan’s lips curled in distaste, but he remained silent.

  The mention of the hump-shelled, six-legged beasts brought a smile to Irmina’s face. She missed her old dartan, Misty. One day, if all went well, she would return to Calisto to collect her.

  “We won’t need any mounts.” An Etching on Ancel’s arm glowed. “Somehow, I know the place we need to be.” He waved his arm.

  A slit formed in the air between them and the other men at the same time as a sound like a sword slicing air. The slit widened into a portal. Through the wavy haze of its surface, Irmina made out towering, dark trees. Things were moving on the other side.

  Instinctively, she leaned away from the entrance. Ancel tightened his grip on her hand. Swallowing, she followed him through.

  On the other side the air was thick with the odors of rotted leaves and wild animals. The portal snapped shut behind them, but she took little notice. She only had eyes for what was in front of them. She hissed in fear.

  Charra’s white-gray form was stark against the forest’s deep green and shadows, foot-long bone hackles upright, daggers running from his neck down to his rump. His tail whipped from side to side, the spear-shaped tip like a snake preparing to strike.

  The daggerpaws, wolves, and lapras surrounding him matched him in size. Snarling, they were poised to attack. Almost as one, they shifted to face her and Ancel.