The Mercenary Prince (Legends of Windemere Book 9)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “I know where Delvin Cunningham went and why he’s going there!” Weber shouts, stopping his attacker from tearing his heart out. The mercenary shudders at the sensation of fingers tapping on his breastbone, every touch feeling like a gentle punch. “I’ll tell you if you promise to let me live. That’s all I ask and I know you have more interest in the Mercenary Prince than killing a down on his luck wretch like me.”

  “I should warn you that my companion enjoys breaking promises,” Trinity mentions as she crouches over the mercenary. The channeler strokes his cheek and scowls at the taste of his faint aura. “This man isn’t a danger to us. There’s no harm in hearing him out and then taking him with us.”

  Stephen spits with enough force to slice Weber’s cheek. “Why do I need a lackey? This worm would only slow me down and eat my food.”

  “Because I’m the dreaded Queen Trinity and you just wiped out a city of mercenaries. This area will be scryed to identify the threat and there goes our ability to travel freely,” the chaos elf explains, meeting her companion’s incredulous glare with a condescending stare. “This expendable minion would be able to enter towns to get information and supplies. We can even use him as a decoy or fleshy shield if need be. We have nothing to lose with him, Stephen. Both of us know how to spy on him from a distance and kill him if he twitches the wrong way. That means if he is going to betray us, he gets to decide between being melted by acidic lightning or being subjected to that adorable threat the blonde made to you. Besides, you can kill this living dirt clod at your leisure, so you might as well get some use out of him first.”

  “Maybe you do look out for my best interests,” Stephen says while drumming his fingers on Weber’s forehead. He hoists the man out of the mud and cleans him with a painful slap to the chest. “Tell me everything you know, little minion. The more you make me smile, the longer you’ll live.”

  6

  “What do you mean turn back?” Nyx asks as if Isaiah’s request is unclear. “We’ve nowhere else to go and I have something to tell Delvin. So don’t show up out of nowhere and make demands.”

  The black-scaled fireskin remains seated on the other side of the campfire, his powerful tail wrapped around his red wood staff. His crimson robe bristles, but Isaiah seems uncomfortable with the movement, as if he is not the one controlling the garment. A glint is in his golden eyes as he examines the auras of the champions and Fizzle. His attention remains on Nyx for several minutes in an attempt to make her feel nervous and exposed, the half-elf aware that her magic is still weak. The fireskin notices that the others are staring at him, but their gaze lacks the aggression that is wafting off the channeler.

  “I am not going to waste time arguing with you, child,” Isaiah states, deciding that he has nothing to gain from being nice. He taps at the log he is sitting on, his talon leaving tiny holes in the rough wood. “The temples may be stationary, but that does not mean you have unlimited time to purify them. Your enemies are always on the move and it does not help our cause when the rest of you follow the foolishness of your friend. I will visit Delvin after this meeting and convince him to return to the fold. My organization is under enough pressure from Gabriel to get you heading toward the next temple. We do not want any more delays.”

  “The Compass Key is broken, so we don’t know where to go,” Sari points out while helping Luke prepare a watery stew. She wipes sweat from her forehead as she uses her powers to stir the hot soup, the heat transferring to her skin even from a distance. “That’s another reason we need Delvin. We don’t think it works unless all of us are together now.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” the fireskin growls. He scowls at Timoran, who has the relic dangling from his neck. “The Compass Key is fine. It’s simply tired of being ignored, so it feels like it’s already done its job. My organization has-”

  Dariana clears her throat and scowls at their uninvited guest, an expression that is met with open disgust. “You mean the organization of one. I’m not going to let you lie to my friends any more. Tell them that you are the right hand of Gabriel. You speak of this organization while using your magic to make others think they are part of something that doesn’t exist. All this to make the champions and your enemies believe that you are nothing more than one of many pawns instead of the sole agent of a god. I think after securing three temples, my friends deserve to know the truth behind your involvement. It might even take the centuries of stress off your shoulders because you no longer have to keep up the façade. So let’s be honest here and maybe we’ll be able to listen with open minds.”

  Isaiah whispers a spell to block the plume of fire that tries to smack him across the face. He is impressed that Nyx never moved and the only hint of an attack is the sudden surge of heat against his cheek. The others look ready to strike as well, but he knows the effortless defeat of the channeler’s flame is enough to give them pause. The fireskin opens his mouth to speak and stops when Luke holds up a hand, the forest tracker looking oddly calm. In fact, the warrior goes back to cutting potatoes for the stew and barely glances at Isaiah.

  “I really don’t care if you’ve been lying this whole time,” Luke admits to the mild surprise of his friends. He tosses a bag of honey candies to Nyx, smiling at the nose-wrinkling expression she flashes him. “You’ve helped us a lot, Isaiah, but I can see that you’ve always been forced to hold back and play games. It was strange that you were the only top ranking member of your organization that we ever ran into. Once Aedyn Karwyn retired, you were the only agent of this group that we interacted with, which makes little sense if your job is to protect and guide the champions. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t care about all that and knowing the truth makes things easier.”

  “Thank you, young Callindor.”

  “What I mean is that I find it a lot easier to tell you to go lick a zombie’s armpit now.”

  Sari laughs and nearly spills their dinner, the gypsy enjoying the wounded expression on Isaiah’s face a bit too much. “I think that says it all. You’re one man who is taking orders from the gods, but we’ve already been told that free will comes into play too. That means we’re allowed to wait for Delvin’s return before we continue on our path. Maybe the Compass Key is dormant because it knows this needs to be done.”

  “Ask Timoran if he agrees since it spoke to him in Bor’daruk and he kept the information to himself,” Isaiah states with a cruel sneer that makes Fizzle hiss. Feeling guilty, the barbarian silently walks away from the camp without looking at his friends. “I’m through treating all of you like children. If Dariana is awake and three temples have been cleansed then you’re too far along to be coddled. I’ve watched you grow more immature and foolish as you continue along the path. Between Delvin’s ridiculous doubts, the broken lovers over here, and Timoran having to face his-”

  The fireskin’s words are cut off when his jaws clamp shut and Dariana walks through the fire to lift the hefty caster off his feet. “I know what you’re doing, but I don’t know why. Stop trying to draw our personal problems into the open. I’ve seen you use this tactic before and it never ends well for the champions. How about we try something new, god hand? I will help my friends become stronger and you do whatever it is you do in the shadows. I won’t deny that we have problems, but this is not the way to make us handle them. Why are you being more of a bastard than usual?”

  “Because a darkness is coming for you,” Isaiah gasps as if a force is trying to stop him from talking. Blood trickles from the corners of his eyes and Dariana senses a sinister presence that is putting pressure on the caster. “I would rather all of you hate me and get stronger than for things to remain as they are. Especially when so much is at stake. If you want to make sure your friends live through the storm then I suggest you do something about it, never goddess.”

  Dariana releases Isaiah and forces him to cast a spell that takes him far away from the campsite. She can see that Luke and Sari are avoiding eye contact and Nyx is staring into the darkness, her eyes gold
as they watch Timoran. Fizzle is the only one who appears to be calm, but she can sense his worry. Putting a gentle hand on the channeler’s shoulder, Dariana nods her head toward the barbarian to suggest that she check on him. With very little resistance, Nyx trudges into the red-tinted shadows to leave the silver-haired woman to handle the other wound that has been left open and raw.

  “If it helps, he was not acting like himself,” the telepath mentions while taking a seat between her friends. She waves for Fizzle to perch on her head, the drite happily accepting the invitation. “I tasted Stephen’s aura within him, so I believe they had an encounter. I don’t know what could have caused Isaiah to be foolish enough to confront my brother. Yet it has led to several awkward revelations that must be handled. I’m sorry that your pain has been exposed again, but I’m here to help you put it to rest.”

  “Thanks, Dariana,” Luke says before he reaches out to take Sari’s hands. The gypsy tries to slip from his grasp, but he continues to maintain contact. “I know what you’re doing with Kira because I overheard you talking to yourself. It was soon after Delvin left that you slipped away and went over your plan out loud. I was a few rooms over, but I was using my sound sight to make sure you weren’t having a breakdown. I’m sorry for spying and not bringing this up sooner. Although, I think what you’re doing is very admirable, so I don’t want to make you feel foolish.”

  Sari laughs and puts her forehead against the warrior’s chest, the sound of his heart causing her a few twinges of pain. “You’re always going to be an idiot. I feel foolish and angry, but I don’t think I can get mad at you anymore. Not over something like this. I’m trying to help you and Kira while you’re trying to help me heal. After all, I caused you two a lot of damage even if you had a hand in it as well. This game is the least I can do. Guess Isaiah isn’t as up to date on us as he thinks.”

  “Or he knows you two can blow up at each other at any moment,” Dariana interjects with an awkward smile. Leaning forward, she grips the long-handled spoon to stir their dinner. “One doesn’t need to be a telepath to catch the emotions that are brewing beneath your skin. It’s only a matter of time before it comes out violently, so maybe you should let the emotions out. The sooner you are honest, the quicker you can heal.”

  “Fizzle no like this plan,” the drite whispers when the air gets cold.

  Luke pulls Sari in for a kiss that never happens, his head suddenly encased in a solid block of ice. The gypsy’s smack shatters her creation and leaves the half-elf desperately gasping, the hot wind burning his cold mouth. He cautiously backs away from the glowering woman and gets closer to the fire to get the faint chill out of his muscles. Neither of them are willing to move toward each other, the anger and confusion becoming thick in the air.

  “I’m sorry, but I only get one more kiss like that,” Sari says, a few tears running down her cheeks. She clenches her fists until her nails pierce her palms, the blood dripping onto the forest floor. “I asked Kira for a favor since I was giving up. I wanted one more passionate kiss that would happen when and where I choose. I don’t know if she will count you taking the initiative, but I don’t want to take the chance of losing that last kiss. Before you ask, delivering spells doesn’t count since that’s not really passionate. By the gods, you are such an idiot, Luke Callindor.”

  “How was I supposed to know about that?” argues the half-elf before a gooey sneeze makes him pause. Not wanting to use his sleeve, he searches his pockets for a piece of cloth and cleans his face. “You and Kira don’t tell me anything. The decision is supposed to be mine, so it isn’t fair that you two make these deals and keep me in the dark. I don’t want to hurt either of you and I take that declaration very seriously. It’s a big decision for all of us and here you two are treating it like a childish game.”

  Fizzle darts over to the gypsy and excitedly bounces on her shoulder. “Sari be honest. Kira too. That solve problem. No lies and secrets. Luke decide with clear mind and everyone be happy.”

  “Not the one who loses,” Sari mutters a little louder than she planned. She catches Luke and Dariana’s concerned looks, so she sits between them and puts a hand on their knees. “Let’s stop avoiding that topic because it’s the thing that keeps this problem going. Whoever has to walk away will be sad and stay at a distance for a while. Let’s be honest and admit that it’s going to be me. Anyway, friendships will be strained and might even end because somebody will say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Even if Luke picks neither of us in an attempt to be a sacrificial hero, similar results will occur and people will stop talking to each other. The only way this doesn’t go down that destructive path is if one of us dies against the Baron, but I’m not going to fling myself onto his sword to avoid heartbreak.”

  “That was rather pessimistic,” Dariana states while rubbing her temples. The exposed emotional nerves of the gypsy makes her lightheaded and she tries her best to sift through the maelstrom that her friends are oblivious to. “Even with my ring, your shared psychic mess is difficult to organize. Both of you love each other, but it’s gotten to the point where you’re not sure if it’s the kind you cherish or one that you retreat from. Sari is unwilling to ever marry and Luke is unable to lose her as a friend. I even sense that you’re concerned about Nyx having to choose one of you over the other, which is rather childish. My experience with relationships is limited at best, but I know that’s stupid to factor in. Unless there is someone to replace Luke in Sari’s heart then you two are going to continue going through this cycle.”

  The forest tracker claps his hands and flashes a charming smile that makes both women a little nervous. “Then we’ll help Sari find a replacement. I know it won’t be easy, but we can set her up with people that we think will be a good match. A big quest of matchmaking to . . . why do you look like you’re going to hit me again, Sari?”

  “Because that’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard!”

  “Really? It’s kind of what you’re doing with Delvin and Nyx.”

  “Those two are already in love, so I’m helping nature take its course.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll keep an eye out for you to have a spark with someone.”

  To stop the brewing fight, Dariana raises her hand and suggests, “I can remain alert for anyone that secretly has interest in you. Not lustful thoughts, but romantic ones. You can be rather intimidating when it comes to love and passions, so men might feel like they can’t keep up with you.”

  “Fizzle help too!” the drite declares with a quick flip in the air. “Fizzle want Sari be happy too. Nyx say Sari deserve smiles. Mess go on too long. All worried Sari hurt too much.”

  The gypsy is about to argue with her friends when she sees that they are very serious about what they are saying. Her mouth shuts with a small clop and she takes over stirring the stew that may have been overcooked. She gently waves Fizzle away when he tries to land on her shoulder, the drite settling for perching at the edge of the campfire. When Luke puts a hand on her shoulder, she tenses and feels frost spiraling out of her bellybutton. Turning toward him, Sari is not surprised to be pulled into a tight hug that lingers for a minute. When he ends the embrace, the gypsy is surprised to see him holding the stiletto that matches his sabers. The vine-like design catches the fire’s reflection and he examines the keen blade before juggling it from one hand to the other.

  “This is part of the set that my dad made for me. I received it on my eighteenth birthday and I have every right to want it back,” Luke explains, noticing the flicker of fear and pain on Sari’s face. With a flip of the blade, he balances it on his finger and extends it to the blue-haired woman. “I want you to keep this as my friend. Consider it a physical embodiment of the bond that we’ll always have. The stiletto will protect you, never dull, and be forever by your side unless you toss it away. Hopefully, you and I keep the same relationship.”

  “That was so corny, but it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” Sari whispers with a wry smile. She snatches the stil
etto from Luke’s hand and deftly slips it back into her skirts. “I see I’ll never be rid of you and you’re determined to help me find happiness. So I’m going to accept your offer on the condition that you don’t annoy me. That goes for all of you. Nyx is the only one who I’ll give some flexibility to. Only because if she has a son that I find appealing then I’m going to . . . torment her about me taking him.”

  “Deal, but you have to be honest with us.”

  “As honest as I can be. I do need a little wiggle room.”

  Dariana cannot stop herself from saying, “You do tend to wiggle a lot, especially when walking.”

  “Thanks?” Sari replies, unsure if she should take it as a compliment. “So let’s finish cooking and call our friends back.”

  The stew dissolves and the steam drifts around the camp, eventually solidifying into a wooden table. Cooked turkey, glasses of wine, and several side dishes sprout from the mysterious piece of furniture. The women look at Luke, who examines his Feast Ring, the goblet and roasted chicken symbols still a day away from returning entirely. A large, dragon-shaped candle appears in the center of the meal and ignites as simple chairs drop from the sky. When the dining room set is complete, a woman materializes at the head of the table. Her violet hair cascades down to her thighs and she has vivid eyes of yellow that abruptly change to a glistening silver. Feeling the heat of the candle’s flame, the beautiful figure erases the sleeves of her dress and uses her fingernail to cut a long neckline down the sapphire fabric. She keeps the garment closed with a jeweled clasp at the throat, the gem changing until it stops on an amber, star-shaped diamond.

  “Hello, dear champions,” Queen Ionia says with a smile. She gestures for them to sit while craning her neck to spy on Nyx and Timoran. “You’re coming very close to Darkmill. Not that I don’t mind the visit, especially from the always adorable Luke Callindor. That Timoran is still as handsome and noble as ever too. Ah, to be young and free to wander again. Now let’s get down to business. Be a dear, little drite, and gather your friends. We have a few things to discuss.”