by R. J. Blain
“Crysallis, have I ever broken the Code?”
The witch flinched at his soft-spoken question. “No.”
“I’m not Arik. I’m not Gorishitorik. I’m Kalen. I don’t want to mount any woman, let alone all of them.” He shook his head. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we’d all be better off without a Rift King. Hellfires, woman, I want to give my Guardians their lives back. I’d like to live without always wondering who was trying to kill me. You’ve had a thousand years to destroy the Rift King. Why haven’t you? Why wait until now?”
“If killing the Rift King were so easy, I would have. You’re the strongest within the Rift.” Instead of anguish, Crysallis’s voice echoed her frustration.
“May the Lady of Light serve as my witness, we’re here. I’m unarmed. You could finish this now, and no one would be the wiser. Why hesitate? You could have killed me many times since you found me, and easily too. You’d win, and we both know it. Why not take advantage of it? You know I couldn’t fight you, not now. Not like this.” Kalen ran his hand through his hair, wincing as his fingers caught on a matted tangle.
Crysallis sank down on the ground beside him and sighed. “You’re still having trouble with your vision, and you’re struggling with your balance. I’m aware that you hit your head when you fell.” For a long moment, she remained silent, her expression troubled. “If only you were like Arik and the others.”
“I can’t say I’m sorry that I’m not Arik,” Kalen grumbled. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You make me think there’s a chance you could change us, that you could restore the honor our people lost when Gorishitorik ruled,” she whispered.
“And people were telling me I’m blind. There are no men or women in any kingdom with more honor than a Rifter. You already saved yourselves. The only one here who needs to be saved is me, and we both know that the only escape from my situation is death. Unfortunately, I seem to be too stupid and stubborn to die. Now please, get a hold of yourself. You’re making my headache worse.”
Chapter Ten
When morning finally came, Breton waited sitting astride Perin while the rest of the camp roused, packed up, and prepared to march.
The process took a little more than an hour.
Breton shifted in the saddle, and the weight of wearing Gorishitorik both comforted and worried him. It didn’t offer him any promises, but it reassured him that the familiar tug of Kalen’s presence in the back of his head wasn’t some dreamed-up hallucination.
The sensation was strong enough to convince Breton that he could close the distance between them within a single day without effort. Wherever the Rift King was, he was close—close enough for Breton to feel. It took all of his will to keep facing south and east when all he wanted to do was head north.
As always, his duty kept him from going to where he wanted to be the most.
“Relax,” Maiten called out, and moments later, his friend reined in his horse alongside Perin.
Breton wrinkled his nose, shook his head, and shifted in the saddle. One of Perin’s delicate ears twisted back. “I wonder how long it will take him to get here.”
“With his cursed luck? We’ll be out to go rescue him within a week.” Maiten’s chuckle rumbled.
Breton glared at the other Guardian. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
“Relax, old friend. Varest is out looking for him. Between His Majesty, Varest, and Crysallis, they’ll be fine. Stop fretting. We’ll have enough to deal with once he returns. Really, I’d rather he take a few extra days to join us.” His friend’s mouth twisted into a sardonic grin. “The longer he takes, the longer we live. He’s going to be unhappy with us.” After a moment’s hesitation, Maiten shrugged and rode his gelding in a circle before settling down. “He’s thirty, Breton. He’s plenty old enough to take care of himself.”
“Not when he’s blind he’s not!” Breton cursed as Perin shied and kicked out with his hind legs. Muscle by muscle, Breton forced himself to relax, easing his tight grip on the reins. His horse snorted, his ears twisted back in disapproval.
“Breton, you’re annoying Perin and you’re frightening the mercenaries. We do need to work with them for a while longer. While I’m a little worried, your foal will be fine. He’s too stubborn to die. Please calm yourself. At this rate, Perin’s going to dump you to prove a point. I don’t want to be the one who has to explain to His Majesty about how you cracked open your head because your horse bucked you from the saddle.”
Breton flexed his hand, twisting around to stare off into the distance. The line of mercenaries winded away from where he wanted to go the most, and he couldn’t do a single thing about it. The frustration of it all boiled his blood. “I know.”
“Then act like you know it, old friend. Look, if you’re that worried, let me help. Why don’t I take the new girl and His Majesty’s cousin and head out for him? You swore to care for the Delrose herd. I didn’t. I can talk Captain Silvereye into it—he wants His Majesty back with us almost as badly as you do. Derac’s ready to crawl out of his skin from the strength of the call. Convincing him to go will be easy, and I can fill them both in on their duties.”
Breton stilled. The idea wouldn’t bring Kalen back any faster, but with Maiten, Derac, and Moritta on the hunt, he could focus on other things, like keeping the rest of the Delrose herd under some semblance of control. That left him with one final problem: Verishi.
The young Danarite girl wouldn’t be easy to contain when she found out that someone was going for Kalen.
“You better take Verishi with you and our spare Rift horses. The Mithrian and Kelshite beasts aren’t fast enough,” he said after thinking the idea through a second time. “Just try not to teach her too many foul words. Your Danarite needs practice anyway. Between Moritta, Derac, and Ferethian, it’ll be shameful if you can’t find him. You may as well ask Dorit if he’ll carry Verishi.” Breton unbuckled Gorishitorik and held out the sheathed weapon. “See if you can get him to at least try to learn how to use it.”
“I might be able to do something so he isn’t a menace to himself at least.” Maiten didn’t sound too confident, but Breton ignored his friend’s tone. “I think it’d be harder keeping Dorit and Verishi apart. For a Danarite handmaiden and a Kelshite Yadesh, those two are quite close.”
“Things like that happen in the Rift,” Breton replied.
“Except we aren’t in the Rift.”
Grinning despite himself, Breton turned Perin in a circle before reining his gelding in. “Didn’t you know, Maiten?”
“Know what?” His friend’s tone was quiet and suspicious.
“Where the Rift King roams is the Rift.”
“And people wonder why outsiders are convinced we’re out to conquer them all. This is why,” Maiten grumbled.
“I’m fairly certain we haven’t attempted to conquer anything in over a thousand years.” That was before the Covenant, and a part of the Rift’s history that no one liked to talk about.
It only lived on through the festivals, during the war games when the Rift King led the Rifters to make-believe battle, clad entirely in red.
“Trust a tiny Kelshite to try to change a perfectly good and peaceful tradition.” Maiten’s laughter sounded forced. “What is Kalen thinking? For him to come so far out of the Rift… Do you think he’s after the Kelsh king’s head?”
“We still don’t know why he left the Rift. We still don’t know what happened in that cave,” Breton reminded Maiten in a low tone. “And he isn’t so bloodthirsty. I can’t imagine him coming out just to make heads roll.”
“He wasn’t always so bloodthirsty, but we changed him. I think that, perhaps, was the worst crime of all.” Maiten hesitated and sighed. “I’ll bring your foal back to you. Try not to whip him too hard when we return. He’s had a harder time than you have lately.”
“Ride fast.”
“Not safe?” Maiten scowled at him.
“I know better than to ask th
e impossible.”
~~*~~
Not ten minutes after Maiten had gotten approval to leave the camp and go in search of the Rift King, Breton was cornered by a red-faced Lord Delrose sitting astride a gray horse. The dark-haired man trembled, and his icy blue eyes matched Kalen’s at his angriest.
Breton braced himself for the Kelshite’s wrath.
“Where is my son?”
There were many ways Breton could’ve answered, but he settled with the truth. “His Majesty was caught on the other side of the swarm. Several Guardians are heading to him now. He’s fine.”
“He’s blind and alone. How does that, exactly, constitute as fine?”
After contemplating whether or not it would violate the Code if he strangled the Rift King’s sire, Breton sighed. Before he could answer, Ceres joined them.
Kalen’s foal took one look between him and Lord Delrose, and stiffened in the saddle. “What’s going on?”
“Lord Delrose was curious about the whereabouts of the foal he sired,” Breton said, careful to keep his tone as neutral as possible.
“Father’s fine,” Ceres said with so much confidence that Breton smiled.
Lord Delrose’s frown deepened. “First of all, he is not your Fath—”
Ceres’s gelding rammed the Kelshite horse in the shoulder. In a movement too fast for Breton to follow, the young Guardian pressed a dagger to Lord Delroses’s throat. “Father is safe. Mind your own folk, Kelshite. He’s ours now. You had your chance with him, and you chose to try to kill him. You may have sired him, but Breton’s his father, as he is my father, and if you insult our family again, I’ll cut your tongue out.”
“Enough, Ceres,” Breton ordered. The young man’s angry glare settled on him. “Let Lord Delrose keep his tongue for now. If you want to teach him a real lesson on consequence, you’d take his arm instead. That way, we’d learn if he’s a match for your father.”
Lord Delrose’s face turned a deeper shade of crimson.
Grumbling curses, Ceres lowered his dagger. “You’re too easy on him, Breton.”
“I know better than to cross your father in this matter. Put the dagger away and be civil.”
After a long moment of hesitation, Kalen’s foal sighed and sheathed his blade. “Fine.”
“Lord Delrose, His Majesty is safe. If that has to be good enough for me, it is good enough for you.”
The Kelshite frowned. “How could you let him go off on his own like that?”
“None of us knew that the swarm was coming. If we had, I assure you that things would be different. Maiten’s choice to take His Majesty out to see his horses was the correct one. Honey is a smart horse. She will keep him safe. He does not need his sight when he has her. Our horses are, like yours, terrified of the swarm. He’s probably safer than we are by now.”
~Honey isn’t with him,~ Satrin announced, and a moment later, the Yadesh appeared from amongst the line of mercenaries. ~She’s here.~
Breton froze, and the concerns Lord Delrose had voiced melded with his own, and all of his worries stampeded through his head. A chill swept over him. “Satrin, what are you talking about?”
~He sent her with Relas, to try to save a village from a swarm. I have been told he felt he would slow them down.~
“Who is Relas?”
Lord Delrose’s face paled to greenish gray. “Relas is a Yadesh. But what is she doing here, Satrin? She shouldn’t be here.”
~I was not told why, Lord Delrose.~
“That is like him. He’s practical,” Breton acknowledged, although speaking the words sickened him. “We know he wasn’t caught in the swarm. Varest, Maiten, and Moritta will take care of him,” he said, pausing to consider whether or not to mention Lord Delrose’s nephew among those hunting for the Rift King. He decided against it. “He’s many things, but he isn’t stupid. I’m sure he had his reasons.”
~Relas told me as much.~ Satrin snorted. ~I thought you would want to know. If you’d like, I will go after the Guardians. Even astride Rift horses, it won’t take me too long to catch up with them.~
“Go,” Breton ordered.
The Yadesh bobbed his head, whirled around, and cantered off, his tail bannering.
“You can’t just order a Yadesh around,” Lord Delrose spluttered.
Breton ran his hand through his hair, drawing several deep breaths until the urge to crack his fist into the Kelshite’s jaw faded. “I just did. If you don’t like it, by all means, chase after him and order him around yourself.”
“You’re an easy man to hate, Guardian.”
“However will I sleep tonight?” Breton considered his options. Chasing after Satrin was his favorite, but he’d given his word to protect the Delrose herd—including Lord Delrose. As always, he was forced to watch, wait, and wonder. “Ceres, please keep Lord Delrose company. I need to go see Captain Silvereye.”
~~*~~
Breton found Captain Silvereye at the front of the line, speaking to several of his mercenaries. While he waited, he slid off Perin’s back, clasped his hands behind his back, and stared off into the distance. Dark smoke marked the swarm’s path. The haze stretched as far as he could see.
When the Mithrian joined him, the man shook his head. “First, you lose the Rift King. Then, as though that weren’t bad enough, the Kelshite Princess comes directly to us—with his horse. You Rifters are going to be the death of me.”
Breton answered Captain Silvereye’s comment with a shrug. It shouldn’t have surprised him that the Mithrian had already learned of the woman’s presence in the camp.
“I think it’s one Rifter in particular, sir,” he replied when the silence dragged on for too long. How many times had he exclaimed Kalen would be the death of him? The Rift King had laughed. The Guardians, unlike during Arik’s reign, survived—to a certain extent, they even thrived. During Arik’s reign, no one had dared to say such things, lest it become a reality.
“No, I’m pretty sure it’ll be Rifters in general.” Captain Silvereye shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
“I’m rather surprised that she is here,” Breton said, unable to suppress his frown. What was the Kelshite princess doing so close to Morinvale? He wanted to pace, but caught himself with one foot lifted. He settled, reaching out to pat Perin’s neck.
There was one good thing about the situation. While Kalen and Honey had been separated, his foal had survived the swarm. Maiten, Varest, Derac, and Moritta could take care of the rest. Even if Crysallis found the Rift King first, the witch always kept her word. She would bring Kalen back.
He relaxed, letting out his breath in a relieved sigh. Once Kalen reunited with the Mithrian company, it was only a matter of time before they could return to the Rift where they belonged.
Captain Silvereye scratched at his scalp, his brow furrowing. “I find myself baffled by this development, as well as worried. It could prove very, very beneficial for us. However, I am concerned as to what the young lady is doing in this area, and why she was alone.”
“And why she had His Majesty’s horse?” Breton asked.
“I have speculations. Considering his history with Knights, I can understand why he wouldn’t want to travel with her. I’m actually more concerned on what sort of trauma meeting her caused him. His experiences with Knights are unpleasant, putting it kindly. However, he loaned her his horse. I did not think this was something Rifters did lightly.”
Breton shivered. “It’s not. From what Satrin has told me, I believe he felt he would slow Honey down. The Yadesh mentioned a village in the swarm’s path. But, you could be right. He could have used Honey as a means to get the Knight out of his presence. That worries me.”
A wince was the Mithrian’s only reaction to Breton’s words.
“While I would like to conclude that His Majesty felt a need to send the woman to us, but didn’t want to slow them down, there’s no way of knowing for certain. Riding blind is dangerous at best. When speed is required? He knew he was a liability,” Breton
said, struggling to keep his tone neutral. Further delving into his worries over Kalen’s mental state wouldn’t do him any good.
Surely Honey wouldn’t have left him if he were at risk of falling apart. Breton had to believe that. He didn’t want to think about the alternative.
“A frowning Rifter is a frightening thing. The problem is this: all of you frown all of the time.”
Breton stared at the Mithrian. “And?”
“Having the Kelshite princess in our care is not bad news at all. Smiling a little won’t kill you.”
It wasn’t easy for Breton to keep his expression neutral. “Are you sure about that?”
Captain Silvereye’s eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”
“Me? Joke?”
The Mithrian scowled at him. “You’re not funny.”
“I will smile as soon as this nonsense between Kelsh and Danar is resolved.” He’d smile once he was confident that Kalen would be all right.
“I hope you realize that I have no intention of letting the Kelsh’s heir out of my hands.”
Breton snorted. “She isn’t my concern.” It was mostly the truth—unless the Rift King took her as his Queen, she meant nothing to him.
“She should be. I call women of her ilk linchpins. She could be the very cause of the war we’re trying to avoid. Think, Rifter. What do you think the Kelshite king will do when he finds out his heir died under questionable circumstances with two Mithrian companies running around within his borders? He’ll blame Danar and Mithrias, one way or another.” Captain Silvereye paced back and forth, flexing his hands. “He’ll probably try to recruit the Rift on the grounds of violation of the Covenant. Wouldn’t that be ironic?”
“That sounds like something he would do,” Breton conceded, watching the man walk back and forth. “He’ll make whatever accusation he feels will put him in the best position to make a case against Danar—or against Mithrias. Either way, it’ll cause an upheaval. The Rift will be expected to mediate.”