Shadows of Ivory

by T L Greylock

  She began to fill two trunks and several leather cases and bags. When she finished, she turned to her desk and tucked the sheaf of papers from Master Gustini inside a satchel, added a hastily written note, then she summoned both a carriage and one of the stable boys. As the carriage was brought around and her trunks and bags loaded, Eska pulled the stable boy aside.

  “Tobin, I have a very important task for you.” Eska handed the dark-haired boy the satchel. “Bring this to the Varadome. Deliver it to the Arch-Commander. No one else, do you understand? He will see you immediately when he hears my name.”

  There were, perhaps, more fitting personages to receive the information in the satchel. The commander of the city guard, for instance, or the prefect. But she trusted Alexandre would act quickly on her word—if only because he would still be looking for an explanation regarding her midnight escapade at the Varadome. Not that he was going to get one—not yet, anyway.

  The boy nodded and dashed off, vaulting onto the back of a waiting horse with ease. Eska watched him race down the drive and disappear around the corner, and then turned away as Roscoe announced that the carriage was ready.

  “My lady?”

  “I want you and four men to accompany me, Roscoe. Armed, all of you. To the teeth,” Eska told the captain of the house guards, a small smile rising on her face. The captain raised an eyebrow—her habit of shunning an escort, armed or otherwise, was well known—but didn’t question her motives and hurried off to collect four of his men from their quarters above the stable.

  The troop, small as it was, followed Eska’s directions perfectly. Led out by Roscoe, the five men bristled with weapons and their armor gleamed in the sun. Each man carried a spear and two swords, one long, one short. Roscoe wore a brace of knives across his chest, and one of the men had a crossbow slung over his back and a quiver of bolts on his belt.

  “Are we to ride, my lady?” the captain asked.

  Eska shook her head. “No, our pace will be quite sedate. But I need you to follow the carriage at a distance.”

  Roscoe frowned. “I don’t understand, my lady.”

  Eska smiled and said, “Just keep us in sight.” She turned and climbed into the open carriage, took one last surveying look at her trunks and bags, and then gave the order for the driver to proceed.

  They were nearly halfway to the docks by the time Eska was quite certain they were being followed—which was considerably later than she had anticipated attracting the Iron Baron’s attention. Nonetheless, amid the pedestrians, carts, and mounted travelers, she eventually caught sight of a few sleeves bearing the familiar ring of golden daggers. When she was confident of subtle pursuit, Eska indicated for Alfonse to alter the usual route slightly, taking the carriage onto smaller streets with less traffic, and waited.

  She didn’t have to wait long.

  The golden daggers made their move as predicted, on a narrow stretch of road between Bartok Row and the parade grounds, closing in with a swiftness that set Eska’s heart racing even though she had been expecting it. She stood up in the carriage as Alfonse reined in the horses and turned just as Thibault de Venescu emerged from behind four of his men.

  The Iron Baron dropped his reins and held his palms up to the clear sky. “Like a gift from the gods dropped into my lap,” he said. He lowered his hands and smiled widely at Eska. “We meet again, my lady. Just as I promised you. And my, my, isn’t this awfully familiar.”

  Eska forced herself not to look over her shoulder in search of the de Caraval guards. They would be there. Any moment.

  “Again you think to frighten me, my lord,” Eska said. “And yet I remain unfrightened. Aren’t you bored of this game yet?”

  “On the contrary, my lady. How could I be bored when I am about to get what I want?”

  “And what is it that you want, exactly?”

  The smile on de Venescu’s face deepened. “To see a thief justly punished.”

  “You mean to punish a woman who won’t beg for mercy, a woman who you have failed to kill twice now.”

  Splotches colored the Iron Baron’s cheeks. He opened his mouth to reply, but Eska cut him off.

  “Yes, I know what you like, my lord. You’ll send me to a place where women are mutilated and raped until they no longer know their own names. If I’m lucky, you’ll take a turn with me first, isn’t that right?”

  The flush spread to the baron’s neck. “I know what you need, you bitch.” His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “How do you like the sound of a hot poker up your cunt?” His stallion leaped forward in the exact moment Eska heard Roscoe shout in the street behind her.

  But it was the flash of white and crimson and steel in the alley to her right that drew Eska’s eye.

  Alexandre de Minos charged out of the alley, a host of soldiers in tight formation behind him, hooves thundering, his infamous pike poised to strike.

  And for a moment, just a moment, Eska was back in the grove, the two men chasing her, the whip cracking behind her, her dagger plunging into flesh, and for that moment, she wished for the Arch-Commander to impale Thibault de Venescu on his pike.

  He didn’t, of course. Which was one of the reasons she had loved him once. But as Eska watched him strike the Iron Baron square across the jaw with the shaft of his spear, knocking de Venescu from the saddle, watched him dismount and drag the man to his knees as his officers surrounded the others, she saw the flash of rage in Alexandre’s eyes as surely as she saw Thibault de Venescu throw his arms around the Arch-Commander’s feet and plead his innocence.

  In the aftermath, as de Venescu and his men were arrested and rounded up to be brought to the Varadome, Alexandre found her. Their eyes met over the heads of the men on their knees, and then he was standing in front of her. She dismissed Alfonse, telling him to drive on to the docks. Only then did she look up into Alexandre’s face.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She couldn’t answer that. To do so would be to risk saying a great many things. She smiled. “Your timing was impeccable, Sascha.”

  He did not return the smile. “You took a great risk.”

  “It was worth it, to see him like this.” Eska clenched her hands together behind her back, the face of the man she had killed floating in place of Alexandre’s for an instant.

  “How did you come by all that evidence against him?”

  “I have a very talented lawyer,” Eska said, the smile returning. “De Venescu has been threatening me since before I left for Toridium. He even sent a man to kill me at the excavation site on the Alencio, and two more just days ago here in the city. And given the stories about him, I knew some of it had to be true.” She saw the disgust rise in Alexandre’s face and knew it matched her own. “I never imagined the truth would be worse.”

  Alexandre nodded, his face sober. He opened his mouth, then hesitated, and Eska knew what would follow. “There’s still the matter of that night at the Varadome,” he said quietly.

  “I know.”

  Whatever he might have said next, Eska would never know.

  A shout from behind Alexandre drew his attention as de Venescu began to struggle as irons were clapped around his wrists. Alexandre turned to deal with the commotion—and Eska slipped away.

  She took the Iron Baron’s chestnut stallion. It seemed the least he could do for her after threatening to kill her. Eska mounted, glanced once more at Alexandre’s back, at the way the short golden hairs on his head glowed, at the slope of his shoulders under his perfectly tailored military coat, at the line of his cheekbone and the curve of his ear, and then she turned the stallion and let him run.

  Eska heard him call for her, his voice faint in the rush of wind flowing over her as she leaned over the horse’s neck and they wove out of sight. She imagined him turning, imagined him moving to follow her only to call himself back to his duty. She could imagine the questions racing through his mind. But she could not imagine the look in his blue eyes.

  By the time she reached
the docks and caught sight of the Argonex at Firenzia Company’s private wharf, there were tears drying on Eska’s cheeks. She could not have said if they were true tears or merely a product of the wind—though she did not give herself leave to think on the question overly long. She wiped them away and approached the ship on foot.

  The last of Eska’s belongings were being lugged aboard. Eska handed off the stallion to Alfonse and directed him to return the horse to Alexandre. And then she scanned the ship, catching sight of him at last.

  Valentin de Caraval stood at the stern, his hands folded in front of him, his gaze fixed on Eska. From that distance, she could read nothing in his expression. Nor could she, it turned out, after she walked up the gangplank and approached her uncle.

  He said nothing, merely stared at her, his gaze narrowed, his posture unyielding, and so Eska spoke.

  “I’m coming with you to Anderra and then on to Sandalese.” Still Valentin did not move. “I’m not asking your permission, nor am I going to apologize for the actions and choices you believe have wronged you so greatly. There will be things I do on this journey that you will not approve of. Legally, you cannot stop me.” Eska took a breath, feeling herself relent a little. “Uncle, for the sake of the niece I once was to you and the uncle you once were to me, let us both try to be kind.”

  Her uncle remained silent for a long moment, but Eska was content to wait him out. “Why are you coming, then?” he said at last.

  “Because the world needs saving, apparently.”

  Thank You All! Please Read!

  After over a year of working back-and-forth, the first installment of The Godforged Chronicles has finally hit the shelves! We are so grateful to you—yes, you, reading this right now—for making the investment in and taking the time for Shadows of Ivory and joining us on this wild adventure. It’s your support that makes it possible for writers like the pair of us to practice our craft, and your involvement that makes this journey so enjoyable.

  On that subject, one very important note:

  First: Please—please—click here to rate and review Shadows of Ivory on Amazon, or any of your favorite book sites.

  Many people don’t know that there are thousands of books published every day, most of those in the USA alone. Over the course of a year, a quarter of a million authors will vie for a small place in the massive world of print and publishing. We fight to get even the tiniest traction, fight to climb upward one inch at a time towards the bright light of bestsellers, publishing contracts, and busy book signings.

  Thing is, we need all the help we can get, and that’s where wonderful readers like you come in!

  Regardless of whether or not you choose to review, thank you again for taking the time to read Shadows of Ivory, and we will see you in the sequel!

  Your biggest fans,

  T L Greylock & Bryce O’Connor