by E B Rose
“I can see city guards,” Ink squinted. They both glanced at Lodi for directions.
Lodi studied the city, scowling. Beast still couldn’t figure out why Lodi’s young face seemed so familiar to him. His best guess placed him as a young nobleman he’d seen at Castle Brinescar in his previous life. Others’ revered attitudes supported this guess.
“Valnar, give Beast your spare cloak,” ordered Lodi. Addressing the slave, “Put that on and cover your head with the hood,” he instructed.
They advanced towards the city at a leisurely pace that helped Beast recover after the intense morning run. They joined with other groups of travellers just outside the gates.
Beast could tell they were nervous. Valnar rode close to Lodi, while Ink kept glancing at the guard house inside the gates and at the archers on the city walls. Lodi leaned back on his saddle, dropped his shoulders, and yawned several times, though his efforts to look casual seemed forced to Beast.
Several city guards near the gates pulled some travellers aside to ask questions and to look at their papers, but they let most go in without further harassment. When a guard gestured them to move aside, Beast was just noticing how the guards were paying more attention to male travellers rather than women, elderly, or merchants.
Lodi flashed a friendly smile at the guard, who only nodded politely. “What is your purpose at Kilrer?”
“Visiting some friends.”
“And where do your friends live?”
Lodi didn’t skip a beat. “Petal Street, the house next to the loud old lady’s.”
“Hmph.” The guard sized them, his gaze swept over Valnar, lingered on Ink, then back to Valnar. It hardly touched Beast, who was still wearing Valnar’s spare cloak with the hood up. The tattoo on his neck was visible, but the hood kept the details hidden.
“Your names and papers, please.”
“Of course, officer.” Lodi leaned over his saddle bags, pulled out three folded up papers, and handed them to the guard. His fingers pushed a grey coin inside the guard’s palm.
“Thank you, master,” the guard said, his tone somewhat less hostile. “Wait here.” He walked away with the papers and went inside the guard house.
Valnar didn’t say a word, but he sighed heavily and fidgeted on his saddle. His hand kept touching Kiejain’s symbol on his breastplate. Ink sucked his teeth and played with the cuffs of his shirt while eyeing the closest guards.
“Will you guys stop acting suspicious?” sneered Lodi. “It’ll check out.”
“We shouldn’t have come here,” Valnar uttered.
“Like we had a choice. It’ll be okay,” Lodi comforted. He plastered a confident smile on his face, which dissolved as soon as he saw the captain of the guards walking out of the guard house, with half a dozen men behind him.
“Fuck,” Valnar cursed under his breath. “Ink, take the right. I’ll...”
“We can’t,” Ink said sharply. Valnar followed his gaze up the city walls and saw the alert faces of archers. He cursed again.
“Dismount, please,” the captain of the guards ordered. Half his men walked around them and stood behind. None had pulled their weapons out, but their hands rested on their swords.
Lodi didn’t bother smiling anymore. A cold anger turned his eyes to blue steel. After considering the order for a full moment, he slid down from his saddle. Valnar and Ink followed his lead.
“Is there a problem, captain?” Lodi asked bitterly.
“Just a routine questioning,” the captain replied. “Follow me inside.”
“We’d very much rather be on our way,” Lodi refused. “Is there any way we can skip this?”
The captain of the guards rubbed his greasy beard. “I’m afraid not. Are you going to follow me inside on your own free will?” An unspoken or else hung in the air between them.
Lodi glared at the captain; his gaze could drill a hole on the man’s face. There were nine guards around them now, together with the men who followed the captain from the guard house, and the ones who were already outside.
Beast flexed his fingers, already planning ways he could get his hands on the nearest weapon. He hoped his masters weren’t stupid enough to speak his Kill Word with so many civilians nearby.
“You’re making a big mistake,” Lodi growled quietly.
“Don’t make a bigger one,” the captain of the guards didn’t back down.
The tension stretched, until Lodi finally shook his head and stomped to the guard house. He kept his chin high, eyes up front, his face a mask of proud anger. The others followed him.
“Stay close to him,” Valnar whispered as he casually put a hand on Beast’s shoulder. “You’ll protect him first, do you understand?” His fingers squeezed.
“Yes, Owner,” Beast mumbled.
The guard house was larger than it looked from outside. The floor was covered with sawdust, and the air stank of vomit. The narrow windows admitted just enough sunshine to see. Despite the size, the room felt crowded with the guards’ presence.
The guard captain took a blanket out and spread it on the table. “Weapons.”
“Is this part of your routine questioning, captain?” Lodi asked as he gave up his sword and knife. His voice was seething with poisonous contempt.
“Yes,” the captain cut shortly.
Valnar’s swords and Ink’s bow were on their saddles, but they carried knifes. Valnar dropped two long knifes on the blanket, while Ink gave up almost ten small ones, and a dozen palm-sized throwing disks. They were hidden head to toe under his clothing and accessories. Every time he took out a new one, the guard captain’s face went darker. Finally, Ink patted himself and shook his head, indicating that was it.
“Check him,” the captain said. “Check all of them. Make sure they’ve got no weapons.”
Beast raised his arms to the sides, and let one of the guards pat him down. They’d found another knife on Ink, hidden under the seams of his vest. He shrugged and tapped at his temple, implying he forgot. The captain gritted his teeth.
“Can I get your name, Captain?” Lodi asked.
“Verrall.”
“This doesn’t feel like a routine questioning, Captain Verrall. Will you tell us what this is really about?”
“I’ll let you know when I find out myself.”
“What does that mean.”
Captain Verrall opened the door leading to a back room and gestured them to get inside.
“I’m not going in there until I get some answers, Captain Verrall.”
“Well, you don’t really have a choice.”
One of the guards moved forward to shove Lodi, but Valnar grabbed his wrist before he touched him.
A brief pause hung in the air, followed by the sounds of weapons being pulled out.
Beast tensed, his blood rushing for the fight. He scanned the few nearest opponents and fixed his eyes on the sword that was going to be in his hands within the next three seconds.
“Stop!” Lodi commanded. Beast felt goose bumps, realizing he didn’t just remember Lodi’s face from somewhere, but the strong, commanding voice was familiar too.
“Weapons down,” Captain Verrall followed. The swords pointed down, but they remained unsheathed. Valnar let the guard’s wrist go.
“My orders are to apprehend you, unharmed,” Captain Verrall explained. “And to keep you here until further notice. Don’t make my job difficult.”
“I understand your position, Captain,” Lodi said agreeably. “But tell me, whose order was it?”
“The order came from the keep. Now, get in.”
Lodi’s shoulders dropped. He looked away, disbelief and confusion clashed on his face. He marched inside, his head down and his hands balled into fists. The others followed him. The door closed behind them; the lock turned.
The room wasn’t a cell, but it certainly felt like one. There was a table with three chairs, a sink in the corner, and some crates with blankets on them, that served as a makeshift bed. The windows were too narro
w to even consider getting out.
Lodi walked to the far side and stood still, facing the wall. He seemed hurt. Beast thought his own face must have looked exactly the same when Olira sold him.
“I knew it,” Valnar growled. “We should never have come here. We shouldn’t have trusted him.” He pulled the blankets off and turned the crates upside down, looking for anything to use as a weapon. “We walked right into this. Right into!” He dropped the crates and straightened up, scanning the room. He screwed his face at Ink. “What the Darkhome are you doing?”
Ink’s right hand was inside his pants, cupping his crotch. His face stilled with concentration, then a victorious smile bloomed. He pulled his hand out and examined the small throwing knife between his fingers. “They never find them all.”
Valnar gawked, his face a picture of horror. His voice quivered when he spoke. “Where the fuck was that hidden? H-how...?”
Ink offered the hilt to Valnar. “I’ll fare well with my fists in close combat.”
“Yeah... nah. I’m not touching that.” Valnar grabbed one of the chairs, brought his boot down on its leg until it broke, and held it up as a club.
“It was strapped inside my thigh,” Ink explained defensively.
“You were sitting on a horse!”
“I didn’t say it was comfortable.”
Valnar grabbed Beast by the scruff of his neck and pushed him in front of the door.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll unleash him as soon as they open the door.”
Valnar’s explanation snapped Lodi out of his trance. “No,” he said sharply. “You’ll get him killed.”
“Have you ever seen a purebred fight?” Valnar asked. “They won’t know what hit them, and by the time they figure it out, we’ll be joining the fight.”
“I can’t risk losing him. I need him.”
“If we don’t get out of here, he won’t make a difference.” Valnar’s voice softened. “We have to get out of here. He betrayed us.”
Lodi looked away, fuming. He grabbed the knife from Ink and took position behind them.
Beast swatted Valnar’s hand off him and took his cloak off for better mobility. He cracked his neck, flexed his arms. His exhaustion disappeared; his sore muscles flooded with energy. His breathing quickened with the expectation of the fight.
The idea of hearing his Kill Word again filled him with cold fear. The memory of the last time the red mist blinded his sight was still too fresh. Painful.
They didn’t have to wait for long. They heard the soft footsteps on the sawdust floors outside.
“Kiejain, lend us your strength,” Valnar prayed quietly.
The lock turned. The door swung open.
“Drasci...”
“Stop!”
The red mist had already appeared on the edges of Beast’s sight when Lodi interrupted Valnar. His body was tense, craving to lunge forward. His fingers curled into claws. A growl twisted Beast’s mouth, as he stared at the face of the man who just walked in.
The man looked at him, frozen. It was the expression of a man who walked into a room and came face to face with an angry purebred beast.
“Kiejain’s balls!” Captain Verrall cursed from behind the new man. He pulled his sword out and walked past him, his men followed his lead, filling the room in numbers. “I told you idiots to take their weapons!” He yelled over his shoulder, without taking his eyes off Beast. “All their weapons.”
“Captain Verrall, stand back!” The new man ordered. He had recovered from his initial shock, after scanning the faces of the three behind Beast. His gaze fixated upon Lodi, though he kept cautious glances between him and the purebred. “Leave the room. I’ll talk to them alone.”
“Sir?”
The red blur still partially blinded Beast. He tried to blink it off. He was just noticing the man was carrying a long sword on his belt, and his hand was resting on it, the knuckles of his fingers blanched white.
Captain Verrall licked his lips. “They have a purebred beast,” he objected.
“I can see that.” The man moved his hand off his sword. “Leave us alone, Captain Verrall.”
Verrall lowered his sword reluctantly. He wiped the sweat off his face, regarding his prisoners with plain distrust. Yet, he complied with a dispassionate, “Sir.” He gestured his men to get out and followed them. “I’ll be just outside, Sir,” he announced before closing the door behind.
“Sir Serygrund,” greeted Lodi when they were alone. His voice was cold, polite, cautious. “Explain.”
Sir Serygrund glanced at the door behind him, and gestured to the other side of the room, furthest from the door. Lodi handed his knife back to Ink and followed him there. Valnar wasn’t relaxed enough to lower his club yet. He pushed Beast between Lodi and Sir Serygrund, as if the purebred was a shield. He kept Beast’s Kill Word at the tip of his tongue.
“Your Highness,” Sir Serygrund greeted Lodi with a deep bow.
Beast’s head snapped back at Lodi. The red mist left with no trace. He knew where he recognized Lodi’s features now. He turned his gaze down, listening, and thinking what this would mean for him.
“It’s your Majesty,” Valnar corrected him, his voice boiling with contempt.
“I believe Prince Lygor hasn’t been crowned yet. Am I mistaken, Sir Valnar?”
Lodi -Prince Lygor Zarall, son of Leonis Zarall- cut Valnar off before he could snap a response. “Are we being held to discuss the proper ways to address the royalty?”
“You’re not being held, Your Highness.” A sharp glare at Valnar. Sir Valnar. “I apologize for the treatment, but this was the safest way to arrange this, without revealing your identity.” He nodded at the door, reminding the listening ears behind it.
“Are you going to explain why we are here?” Lygor demanded to know. “I thought we were going to meet Lord Rhuagh.”
“Lord Rhuagh wanted you to be stopped before you entered the city. He wanted me to explain, we have guests at the keep, and the city is not safe for you. Lord Heilamin is being hosted at the keep, with his retinue of two hundred house guards.”
Lygor tilted his head. “Is Lord Rhuagh changing his allegiance?” he questioned bitterly.
“Never, Your Highness. But aiding you while Kastian Vogros’s cousin was under his nose would yield dangerous results for Lord Rhuagh. He wanted me to explain to you, that his daughter, Lady Lona, is a maid-in-waiting for Princess Lareani, at Castle Brinescar.”
Lygor looked away, shaking his head and fuming through his nose. A vein popped in his neck, his anger not letting him speak.
“Lord Rhuagh is unable to provide you sanctuary at his city,” Sir Serygrund concluded. “It is best you turn back.”
“Tell me, Sir Serygrund, does Lord Rhuagh remember growing up, squiring together with my father, and taking an oath to serve and protect House Zarall?”
Sir Serygrund paused. “Lord Rhuagh is still loyal to House Zarall, and always will be. But he cannot take explicit action to restore your crown, until conditions change.”
“You mean until I have enough allies and an army behind me?”
Sir Serygrund looked away, feigning embarrassment. “Your horses are outside and I will let Captain Verrall know that you’ll be collecting your weapons.” He nodded sharply and turned to leave. He openly ignored Valnar, and he kept a careful distance from Beast, but he paused in front of Ink. “Prince Ingelhar, I presume?”
Beast resisted the urge to snap his head up again. Two princes?
Ink raised his head and gave a toothy smile. He was twirling his throwing knife between his fingers.
“Am I too naive to hope that Kaldoria will stand back and let us settle our matters, should we start fighting amongst ourselves?”
“My father doesn’t take counsel from me,” Ink said coldly. “I’m only seventeenth in line.”
Serygrund pursed his lips. “Kastian Vogros didn’t even have a number.”
Ink’s face darkened, his eyes
turned to steel. His fingers wrapped around his knife, tight.
Sir Serygrund walked off, not feeling threatened. The room felt cold.
“Sir Serygrund,” Lygor called. Serygrund paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Tell Lord Rhuagh, I will remember this... favour.”
Serygrund scowled, trying to figure out if this was genuine appreciation, or a threat. He found his answer in Lygor’s eyes. His face paled a tone and he nodded wordlessly before he left.
18
TESLATURAHEL
King Kastian surprised Tesla for a third time that day. This time, it was his youthful appearance and friendly attitude.
“Master Teslaturahel Asilamas,” Kastian greeted him. He scowled. “No... Adept is the title you use, isn’t it?”
Tesla gave the king a deep bow. “Adept Teslaturahel suffices, Your Majesty. Thank you for seeing me at such a short notice.”
That had been the first pleasant surprise of the day. After hearing how the king regarded the other mages in the city, Tesla had braced himself for a waiting game to gain an audience with him. However, King Kastian had accepted his request the next day.
“Please, have a seat,” Kastian gestured at the cushioned, cosy looking chair across the table.
Tesla collected his robes and sat carefully. He studied the beautiful garden with half curiosity. The location was the second thing that surprised Tesla today. While he expected a cold audience in the throne room, the King had him brought to the royal garden, for an intimate meeting.
Wine, cheese, fruits, and baked delicacies were spread on the table. Although it wasn’t quite picnic weather, the clouds allowed the sun to peak between them every now and then. The garden accommodated trees and colourful bushes that kept their leaves throughout the year. Large, flat rocks formed walkways between flower patches. A small, wooden bridge with elegantly carved handrails curved over an artificial pond. Fish swam under the water lilies and birds chirped around an elaborate bird feeder.
The sensory input of being outside under the open sky would have overwhelmed Tesla, if he hadn’t cast his integration spell before he’d left. Yet, he sat at the edge of his chair, not allowing himself to relax.