by J. M. Kearl
The sound of metal ringing cuts through the night as both Madison and Jordane pull their weapons from their scabbards. The silent guard takes a few steps back.
“Settle down, everybody,” Bones says, holding up his hands. “There doesn’t need to be a fight. Hiya, we do this all the time. Let them pass or you won’t be getting anymore pay offs from me because you’ll be dead.”
The man addressed as Hiya, stares at Boaden for a moment longer then sheaths his dagger, stepping aside. “Fine, Bones, but next time make sure they pay more if they look rich.”
Boaden and the others keep their weapons in hand. Stepping aside and agreeing doesn’t mean they can be trusted. There’s no being too careful in a place like this.
“Daelyn, you go first,” Madison says from behind.
The dark cloak hiding Daelyn moves in the sudden breeze and her hood blows back, revealing her golden hair and lovely face. She quickly pulls her cover back on and takes Asha toward the tunnel.
Boaden doesn’t miss the way the guard’s eyes widen when they see her. Anger slowly burns at the strong feeling of lust on the air coming from both of the pathetic guards. If either of them tries anything he’ll be sure to end it fast.
Hiya makes a provocative lip smacking noise at Daelyn and then grabs her wrist. “You look a lot like the Delhoon girl the King of Hesstia is paying for.” He pulls his dagger again and jerks her close to him, blade poking into her side. “She’s worth a lot more than half a gold chain.”
Boaden flies at Hiya, the tip of his blade is at the guard’s throat. Hiya drops the dagger and Boaden pulls Daelyn behind him. “Alright, just go,” Hiya says.
“It’s too late for that now you little shit.” Boaden shoves his blade through Hiya’s neck. Blood squirts out like a fountain.
A shriek cuts through the air and Madison rushes Daelyn covering her daughter’s mouth. “Shut up,” she hisses.
Boaden jerks his sword back and turns to the other guard running away.
“You should kill him,” Bones says. “He’ll bring men to hunt you.”
Madison reaches her hand out and the guard is suddenly engulfed in a paralyzing white glow. Boaden pulls out his bow and looses an arrow; the guard won’t be bringing anyone. The body hits the ground with a thud halfway up the hill.
When Boaden turns, he finds Daelyn wide eyed, shocked expression and then his heart pounds. Blinking over and over, he isn’t sure if what he is seeing is real. The light of the moon shines perfectly on Daelyn’s partially covered face but there is no mistaking the subtle glow in her blue eyes. She always said his eyes glowed in the light of the moon but he never saw it in her. Why now? He begins to question if this means what he thinks it does. Soulmate, echoes in his mind. Is there really such a thing? he wonders. Bones clears his throat, snapping Boaden out of his thoughts.
“More guards might come if it’s time to rotate. You should hurry.”
Daelyn pulls her gaze from Boaden and hurries into the tunnel. It’s not wide enough to fit two horses so Madison follows after, then Jordane.
Bones bends down and takes the gold chain from the dead guard’s pocket. “Damn it, Hiya, you just couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”
Boaden turns to Bones before he leaves. “Thanks for showing us the way. If you should ever find that this life in Nordia doesn’t suit you, Delhoon’s borders would be open to someone able to sense magic. Maybe you just need a little help to hone in your skills.”
Bones rises to his full height. “I’ll keep that in mind. Good luck, Delhoon man.”
7. Enden
Enden paces back and forth in his study, arms taut behind his back. All the men he has at his disposal and not a single one of them could do as he asked. He doesn’t understand how Daelyn and the others could have gotten away. Hundreds of soldiers scoured the woods to the border, and nothing.
Not only is he heated about the escape, he wonders if the entire coup was planned or if it happened at the spur of the moment. Had he truly been fooled by all of them? Did Boaden have orders to kill Rolland or did he do it based off what Enden said? The prince pleaded with Boaden to save his would-be bride, and that is what the man did.
The painting of Enden’s brother on the wall catches his eye as he rakes his fingers through his golden brown hair. The sickening image of Rolland’s body, blood pooling all around him, his wide soulless eyes staring up at the sky, can’t seem to escape Enden’s thoughts. He swallows, forcing down the bile rising up in his throat. Possibly the most disturbing thing about all of this is that it happened because of him. He was foolish enough to fall in love with a Delhoon woman. Foolish enough to fall prey to her deceit. Tricked by beauty, and the promise of her body that she wouldn’t give until after the vows.
That blast of magical power came from her, his brother is dead because of her and yet… he still can’t stop thinking about her. Nearly every thought is consumed by his desire to have her, and he hates himself for it. Flashes of her beautiful smile, her golden hair gently blowing in the breeze, the curves of her body; he involuntarily shudders, thinking of her nakedness he was robbed of seeing. He even loves the way she eats. How she always delicately picked up her food and inspected it before putting it into her mouth. In a fit, he shoves the papers on his desk, scattering them across the floor. Breathing heavily, he slams his palms flat on the tabletop. A knock sounds at the door. “Who is it?” he snaps.
“Jershon, Sire.”
“Come in.” Enden has been waiting to hear news from Jershon for hours. The slave strolls in, clasping his hands together in front of him, his kirune manacles clanking. He only allows Jershon to take the kirune off when he or one of his trusted guards could supervise the spell. “Well, speak up, boy.”
“Sire,” he pauses. “I can’t track them. I don’t know if they’ve blocked me or they’re simply out of range for my capabilities.”
Enden hardens his jaw and balls his fists. “If you’re not capable, I’ll find someone else who is.”
Jershon lowers his eyes but knows better than to argue.
“Get out and don’t come back until you know where she is.”
The door closes gently behind him. The audacity of Jershon to come in here without anything. Why did he even come?
Enden leaves his study, escorted by two guards to the throne room where he has ten other protectors. He isn’t blind to the people in his own house suspicious of him. Rolland had Enden handcuffed in front of everyone, after all. So far no one has voiced aloud what he knew was on their minds, but he has a feeling that is about to change. Apparently the general and two high members of the court have a pressing matter.
Enden takes the king’s golden seat for the first time, spine erect, lifting his chin. When the general enters the room, he’ll know who is in charge. Moments later the doors to the chamber open and the trio file in one at a time in order of importance. Enden has known these men all of his life, they served under his father and brother and he expects nothing but loyalty from them. The oldest and general of the army, Megnar steps forward and kneels before him.
“Rise, Megnar,” Enden says, not wanting to waste time. “What is this pressing matter?”
With difficulty of old age, Megnar gets to his feet. Enden notices the sword at his hip, which he didn’t usually carry within the castle. “Your highness, we’ve had search parties out for weeks looking for the group who assassinated King Rolland and there is no sign. We advise that you call off the search parties and prepare to attack Delhoon.”
“No.” Enden leans back in his throne. “I will not stop until they are captured. I’ve sent a letter to Queen Kyria and expect to hear from her soon to confirm that she was behind the attack. I’m not convinced it was a sanctioned assassination.”
“With respect Enden—”
Enden’s face flushes at the audacity that Megnar has to call the king by his name. He’d never disrespect his brother that way. He digs his fingers into the arms of the throne. “You will address me as King Enden or Si
re.”
Megnar stiffens. “I do apologize, Sire, you permitted me to call you Enden as prince—”
“But I’m not prince anymore, am I? I am King Enden. King of Hesstia.”
Megnar bows his head. “Yes, Sire. As I was saying, we can’t sit by and do nothing while our men search for that woman-- that magic using wench you want back. We should be preparing for war. And I can’t help but question that fact that you were restrained on the day of your brother’s assassination.”
Enden can’t do with the insolence. He knows that Megnar and the others do not trust him and he can’t risk their disloyalty. Enden stands and snaps his fingers so that his guards come to his side. “Arrest him, arrest all of them. I want them executed for mutiny.”
Megnar steps toward Enden and the guards draw their swords. “King Enden, please, I beg your forgiveness. I meant no disrespect.”
The other two move close to Megnar and pull their swords. Enden steps back further away from the line of guards surrounding the men he’d just condemned to die. “You have been questioning me for weeks. I will bring my brother's killers to justice and if that means war, so be it, but I will not attack Delhoon unless I know for sure it was a sanctioned assassination and not the whim of a few.”
“You must see that Daelyn and her sister were sent here!” Megnar pleads. “Sire, please, I only have the utmost respect for you but you have to see that she lied to you.”
“I know what she is!” Enden shouts. “Take them away.” Enden turns his back to them, and walks along the edge of the room to the exit. “I can hardly trust anyone anymore,” Enden mumbles to his guards. “I hope you two remain loyal to me.”
“Of course, Sire,” his guards say together. Peter and Dean have served Enden since long before he was king.
Peter clears his throat. “For what it’s worth, Sire, I believe Daelyn to be pure at heart. I don’t think she meant to hurt you. She wanted to save her father, who was a spy but I still think she loved you.” Enden pauses in his step, considering that possibility, and then keeps going. Peter is the same guard who’d fallen all over himself seeing her in the dress shop; that seemed like a lifetime ago now. “I suppose we’ll see when I get her back. If that is the case and she still loves me, I’ll make her my bride, but if she lied and her intent was only to kill me or my brother-- I will have no choice but to kill her myself. I’ll wrap my hands around that pretty neck of hers until she stops breathing.”
Enden sits on his bed and pulls his boots off. Even saying that he’d strangle Daelyn made him feel sick. He wouldn’t-- he couldn’t. Even if he knew she only ever meant him harm, he couldn’t hurt her. He’ll marry her no matter what. People can gossip but she will be queen. And anyone who has anything to say about it within his circle will be executed. He must have Daelyn; he wants to touch her bare skin and feel the softness of it, kiss her full lips and hold her breasts in his hands.
Suddenly his fireplace alights on its own, bringing a note out of the flames and into his lap. It startles him whenever Kyria sends messages this way. Startles him that magic can even get into the castle. He tears the red seal and reads:
King Enden,
Yes, I sanctioned the assassination on your brother. But we can prevent a war if you will end the law that allows the killing and taking of magic users as slaves. We have the right to be free the same as anyone else.
Enden sets the note on the bed beside him. What Queen Kyria doesn’t understand is that his people would turn on him if he ever did what she asked. They are afraid of magic, the gods of Hesstia have forbidden it. Enden himself doesn’t believe in the gods but his people do. What concerns him most is that if he allows the use of magic, what is to stop them from rising up for the years of cruelty when they no longer fear him? That is what his father told him would happen. What is to stop them from taking over rule of Hesstia when they clearly have an advantage over common people? No, he cannot change the law. That would make him the weak king. The king who destroyed Hesstia, and he won’t have that.
8. Madison
Once they escape the city of Moor, they don’t stop riding until mid-sun the next day when the heat becomes overbearing. Thankfully, among the rolling sandy hills they come upon a small oasis that will provide cool water and palm trees for shade. There are also twelve tents, so perhaps the people will have fresh provisions. Instincts tell her to pull her sword from its sheath as they come upon this encampment, yet they don’t want to appear aggressive if the people in this oasis are friendly.
Daelyn hasn’t spoken all night or morning. Madison assumes it’s because she’s angry with Boaden for killing both guards. What her daughter doesn’t understand is that if they wish to survive, there is no letting small things slide. Killing and fighting is how things are outside the safety of the farm in Kezington. Although Daelyn had killed a few men, she only did so in the rush of the human instinct for self-preservation.
What Boaden had done back in Moor was necessary, the putrid little guard held a blade at her daughter’s side. And had Boaden not killed the first guard for touching Daelyn, Madison would have. Likely Jordane would have not, he’d have wasted time tying them up. He’s mellow tempered like Daelyn, or at least he used to be. She doesn’t really know her husband anymore. He’s changed so much in the ten years he was imprisoned. Quiet and brooding isn’t the man she knew. He won’t say what happened to him at Lanloc or how he was transferred to the castle. She hasn’t tried to force him to speak of his time, but she feels disconnected from him. It seems as though the love they once shared is gone. Now they are just two acquaintances on a mission to get home.
“We should dismount here and walk into the encampment so we don’t appear aggressive,” Jordane says pulling his horse to a stop.
The rest of them follow his suggestion and lead the horses through the opening of the battered and worn wall that stands waist height to Madison. Three grown women stand around the water hole watching as several kids splash and chase each other in a game of touch and go.
Once the women see the group of Delhoon, they hurry to gather the children and run to their tents. A single older man emerges with a spear in hand and meets them. “What business do you have here?” asks a man with a black and gray beard that reaches mid chest.
“We’ve come for water and shelter from the sun. That is all. We wish you no harm,” Boaden answers.
“You’re warriors,” the man says standing tall but still leaning slightly on his spear.
“We are,” Boaden says. “But that doesn’t mean we want to hurt you.”
The man looks each of them over as if trying to read their minds. “Where are you from? Hesstia?”
“It matters not where we come from,” Madison says quickly, before anyone else can answer. “We need water and so do our horses.”
“You’re welcome to it,” he says gesturing toward the well. “How long will you be staying?”
“We need rest and sleep but a day at most,” Boaden says leading the way toward the water. “How far is Benmari from here?”
Boaden had told them prior that Benmari is the closest city he knows of that has someone with a ship willing to go to Delhoon. The last time Boaden came to Nordia, it was to assassinate a chieftain who attempted to murder Queen Kyria’s father, and he had to get out swiftly. Madison doesn’t know anyone in Nordia.
“It will take the passing of a full moon to get to Benmari,” he replies with his bushy eyebrows drawing together.
“Is there a closer coastal city?” Jordane asks. “We need to board a ship.”
“Not many ships will leave this time of year. Maybe for the next few sunrises but not much past that. Where do you need this ship to take you?”
Madison’s companions all share glances and then silently, they seem to decide to speak the truth. “Delhoon,” Boaden replies.
“Delhoon?” the man says, seeming surprised. “Well it’s much faster to go to Port Ku’uria from here. But as I said, I don’t think you’ll make it. It takes
half a moon to get there.”
“Why won’t ships be leaving?” Madison asks scooping water into her hands. She splashes it on her face the cool water drips down her neck.
“The winter waters of Nordia are dangerous,” the man replies. “Many ships have been lost. Why not ride to Delhoon? It would be faster.”
Madison begins to weigh the options out in her mind. If they ride to Delhoon they’re more likely to be caught by Hesstian patrols near the border of Delhoon and Nordia. Enden would risk sending his men into Nordia, it’s not as if they can do anything to him. Each city will also have men searching for them because of the reward. Taking a ship into Delhoon was the least risky way before they heard this news of winter waters.
Madison takes a long drink of water, wetting her dry mouth, then looks to Boaden. “What if we get word to Kyria to send a small troop to meet us near the border? I fear that Enden will have all the cities close to Delhoon in Nordia under close watch. It will be difficult for us to make it home.”
Boaden stays quiet for a few moments. “That might be the only way. I just don’t know how upset she’s going to be with how we-- departed Hesstia.”
“We got done what needed done,” Madison says with a huff. “Even if it’s not exactly the way she wanted it. Rolland is dead and Enden looked guilty on the stage next to us.”
The old man has a coughing fit causing everyone to go silent to watch him. Then he holds up a shaky hand. “From what I’m gathering here, you must be the party who assassinated the recent king of Hesstia.”
Madison pulls her sword from her sheath as merely a threat. “And you’ll keep your mouth shut about it, old man.”
He nods slowly. “I won’t say anything. But I wonder-- All of my sons were killed a few weeks ago by raiders, leaving only me with the women and children. I can pay…”
Madison eyes the old man suspiciously. “Pay for what?”
“These raiders have been terrorizing nomads like us, stealing our silver and killing our young men. They need stopped,” his voice wavers with emotion then he takes a deep breath. “I’ve never met anyone who could do this until the four of you came to our camp. It’s fate. Strong Delhoon warriors are rare in this part of the world.”