Bladesorrow (The Agarsfar Saga Book 1)

by D. T. Kane

  “What have you done?” she shouted, much louder than she’d intended, though judging by the activity at the Crossing now it little much mattered. Both Ferrin and Erem looked at her in surprise, but she didn’t care. “You can’t go around killing people just because you’ve the power to do so!”

  How could he be so stupid? Maybe she’d been wrong. The shadow had changed him.

  “They were coming to kill us, Jenzara.” His voice was quiet, face still contorted. “I told you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  “And what of that little girl?” She jabbed her finger at the tiny corpse before them. “She was just like you, Ferrin. Hated just because of a power she was born with; enslaved because of it.”

  “Better her then you,” Ferrin responded without hesitation.

  She was quaking, limbs visibly shaking. Words escaped her. The coldness with which he’d spoken shocked her.

  Erem put at firm hand on her shoulder.

  “We need to move before the Parents at the Crossing have time to organize.”

  Jenzara opened her mouth to tell Erem she couldn’t just let this go, but he raised a hand to her.

  “We’ll speak of this more later. But for now, we must act or there will not be a later for any of us.”

  The tone of his voice told her he was no happier than she over Ferrin’s atrocity. But she also realized he was right. Erem helped Ferrin to his feet, then stood for a time staring at the Crossing in the distance, saying nothing. Then he laid out his plan.

  “The Parents will have seen that explosion, so they’ll be on alert now. But we have darkness on our side. I can channel a simple shield that, combined with the gloaming, will allow us to approach the bridge unseen.”

  “I thought you could barely use your shadow power?” Ferrin jibed, arrogant even through his pain.

  Erem ignored him. “I’ll have to drop the shield when we get close. Once discovered, we make for the bridge as fast as we can. Jenzara, you distract them best you can with arrows.”

  She gave him a look that must have radiated ill ease, for he squeezed her shoulder once more.

  “Remember the training. You will be fine.”

  He spoke with such conviction she found herself nodding without intending to do so.

  “Keep a particular eye on the Parents at the top of the watch tower. They’ll be well stocked with sources to draw power from, and even their light attuned will have moonlight to channel. I’ll do my best to counter any hexes they launch at us. Ferrin, you’ll not channel. But if any Parents block our Path across the bridge.” He paused, leveling a spec-covered stare at him. “Deal with them.”

  Written on a page the words may have been ambiguous, but Erem’s tone left no room for interpretation. Jenzara felt an urge to protest, but she knew that this time there was no other way. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to look at Ferrin.

  “Most Parents are just as skilled in physical combat as they are with elements; don’t underestimate them simply because they don’t carry blades.”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect Jenzara,” Ferrin replied.

  Her back stiffened and she was unable to keep herself from glancing once more at the dead girl.

  “And one more thing,” Erem said. “These are not bad people.”

  An impudent retort began to spill from Ferrin’s mouth, but Erem swiped a hand across Ferrin’s field of vision, so close to his face he nearly toppled backwards, his words swallowed.

  “Valdin has used their fears and uncertainty to twist them into the cruel fiends you see today. The Parents were not always that way, and I hope one day they no longer will be.”

  Ferrin began to protest again, but Erem spoke over him. “Despite all that, they are in the wrong here. Use disabling blows when able. But do what you must to protect us. Both of you.”

  That shut Ferrin’s mouth. His lips settled into a thin line, nearly disappearing into the stony expression that had overtaken his features. An impassable mask that would surely make Erem proud.

  Jenzara knew her own face was nowhere near as calm. Her hands began to shake even as she nodded assent to Erem’s instructions. She knew he spoke true. But could she actually take a life?

  Erem seemed to notice her reticence. But this time, rather than a reassuring gesture, he furrowed his brow at her.

  “That goes for you too, Jenzara. If it’s between us or a Parent, you’ll put an arrow in his throat. Or your sword in his chest. Understand?”

  She nodded again, wrapping her arms about herself. No one except her father had ever spoken to her like that.

  “Once we cross,” Erem continued, “we’ll need to prevent the Parents from following.” He frowned, but went on. “So once we’re across, I’ll use a shadow channel to bring the bridge down.”

  “I can do that,” Ferrin cut in.

  “No,” Erem replied. “You may have the power, but you just showed all too plainly you lack the control. You might collapse the entire bank, or worse. And Agar only knows what will happen to that wound if you channel again.”

  Ferrin glared at Erem, but couldn’t match the man’s cool gaze and looked away after a few moments. They set off towards the Crossing without another word. Soon after, a strange chill settled over them. Erem’s shield, Jenzara assumed. He was muttering again.

  The shield appeared to work even better than Erem had suggested. Even knowing it was in place, she’d been apprehensive as they walked straight toward the Crossing, in what seemed to be plain sight. But no alarm was raised, and the Parents posted at the Crossing didn’t even seem particularly concerned. Hadn’t they seen that explosion? And hadn’t there just been disquieted shouts coming from their direction? She tried to push these thoughts from her mind and remain focused on their goal.

  They inched onward, now a mere twenty paces from the Crossing, still undetected. She could almost reach out and touch the guard tower on this side of the river. The swift current wailed up from below them.

  A voice boomed out over the sound of rushing water. They froze.

  “That’s an amusing trick, young Ferrin. But you can come out now.”

  Jenzara gasped and gripped at Ferrin’s hand. The all-too-familiar voice had come from above them. She looked up, just in time to see a figure leap from the top of the tower. His descent was impossibly slow, robes billowing around him, like a leaf floating from a tree.

  Grand Father Valdin landed before them without a sound.

  “Come now. It’s not polite to keep up the trick once the secret’s out.”

  Valdin waved a hand absently in their direction. Erem grunted, and she felt suddenly exposed, like the bedsheet being ripped from your back on a cold night. The Parents who’d been pretending to mill about aimlessly encircled them. At least ten of them, plus Valdin.

  “Ah, that’s better. You took your time getting here, Master Ferrin. My barge arrived two days’ past now from Ral Mok. And channeling like that out on the plain to distract my sniffer? Tsk. Tsk. Not very smart. You must have known I’d have others who could sense it? We keep them at all major crossings. No?”

  His voice held much of the same self-righteousness it had back in father’s study. But he also sounded tired. As if having found them held no thrill.

  Another Parent strode up next to the Grand Father. Priest Shinzar. She’d never forget the arrogant turn of the man’s mouth. The Grand Father glanced to him, then almost as an afterthought added, “And killing three of her Lady’s devotees? A young child too? Also not very smart. What shall we do about that?”

  “Don’t you pretend to have cared two bits about that girl,” Jenzara shouted, deciding to direct some of her anger at Ferrin’s killings towards the Grand Father.

  “And Lady Jenzara.” Valdin turned to her, self-righteousness gone from his voice. “I do wish we could be meeting again under better circumstances.” His tone softened to the point of physical discomfort. “But we all have duties that must be carried out. Isn’t that right?”

  He
actually seemed to be inviting a response. Almost as if he were seeking some sort of assurance.

  Shinzar cleared his throat. Valdin turned a glare on him, causing the Priest’s eyes to snap forward. But when the Grand Father spoke again the coldness had returned to his words.

  “A pity you’ve taken up with such—” one side of his lip curled upward as he cast a glance at Ferrin and Erem, “—contemptable company.”

  Shame slammed into her like a wave on stormy seas. That part of her mind that had surfaced upon discovering Ferrin was a fifth came once more to the fore. She looked sidelong at Ferrin and Erem. Breaking the law had been easy enough to justify when her only companions had also been doing so. But the leader of the nation personally seeing you do it? Her heart began to hammer arrhythmically.

  “Your father would have been ashamed.”

  The bow was in her hands before she could think, the edges of her vision going red. But the Grand Father only waved his hand again. The bow string snapped and slapped into her hand with such violence she dropped the now-useless weapon. The surrounding Parents hadn’t even bothered to move.

  “Murderer!” she screamed. “He trusted you and you killed him!”

  The Grand Father actually flinched at her accusation. For several moments none spoke, all eyes on her.

  Shinzar shattered the silence, clicking his tongue. “Your father brought his ruin upon himself, associating with ones who flaunt the Edicts.”

  She coiled at the knees, ready to spring at him. Tragnè take the consequences.

  Then Erem was standing before her, blocking the way to both Shinzar and Valdin.

  “And who do we have here?” Valdin asked, his voice sticking to her eardrums like sap from a diseased tree. “There is something familiar in the lines of your face.”

  Erem said nothing, spectacles boring into Valdin. He’d sheathed his ebon blade, hiding its glowing runes from view. And he’d raised the hood of his cloak, obscuring his features in darkness.

  After a moment Valdin shrugged. “I assume you’re the man Raldon was harboring in the woods? I wonder, were you the one his Master at Elements spoke of when he so graciously visited us at the Temple? Or did Robertin know of the boy?”

  Jenzara had always thought Master Robertin’s invitation to Tragnè City had been suspect. Doubtless it had been Valdin’s scheme to get him away from father’s protection, then torture him for information.

  “Not much of a talker?” Valdin’s smile could have curdled fresh milk. “No matter. We’ll deal with you, in time.” Valdin waved his hand at Erem as if he were little more than an inconvenience; a minor cramp after a long run. He narrowed his eyes and turned back to Ferrin.

  That was a mistake, she realized. Arrogance. Erem was the most dangerous of their group. The fact that even a man such as Valdin could make such an error calmed her. She began to work through one of Erem’s breathing exercises.

  “I would like nothing more than to continue this conversation, Master Ferrin. But you have already proved quite slippery. I shan’t risk losing my grip on you again now that I’ve caught you.”

  The Parents around them began murmuring in a language she couldn’t understand.

  “By decree of the Temple and, by divine relation, the Lady of Light herself, all shadow attuned pose a grave threat to the land’s peace and tranquility.” Valdin’s voice was a ritualistic drone, as if reciting from rote memory, rather than any true fervent belief. “The Parents are merciful, and those who submit to our authority at a young age may enjoy a life of service. But those like you, who evade us until adulthood, are beyond aid.

  “Plus,” he added, voice suddenly casual, “there’s the unfortunate point that you’re now a known murderer. I’m afraid the only path for one such as you is clear.”

  A putrid grin sprouted on Shinzar’s face as Valdin paused, though the Grand Father’s own expression was unreadable.

  “Death.”

  Erem had to hold her back once more. Ferrin simply stood there, meeting Valdin’s gaze. He too had sheathed his blade. Empty handed, he looked like a puppy facing down a lion.

  “Ferrin of Ral Mok, confirmed fifth and murderer, I hereby sentence you to die, to be carried out forthwith.” With that, Valdin hefted his staff, the same one he’d used to execute Master Mapleaxe, and nearly killed her with in father’s study.

  Now Erem shifted to place himself between Ferrin and the Temple’s leader.

  “The boy’s got rights,” Erem growled. “You can’t just pass judgment without a trial.”

  Valdin’s face darkened.

  “Who are you to lecture the Grand Father of Agarsfar?” His already wrinkled features cinched further as he studied Erem’s face. “Take off those spectacles.”

  Erem made no move to comply. A finger on his sword hand twitched. Jenzara had no doubt he could have the blade drawn and through Valdin’s throat faster than she could blink. But could he take on a dozen other Parents at the same time?

  This was the moment. Erem had an honest desire to help them buried beneath that granite exterior. And he’d known it might come to this, preparing them with unyielding urgency these past days. So many points in time were simply steppingstones. But this was an ocean. She could either jump in and start swimming, or watch her friends drown.

  Her hand shot into her tunic at the same moment her eyes met Ferrin’s. He nodded. In that instant, she knew she saw the consequences better than Ferrin, otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed. But sometimes necessity must outweigh fear.

  The knife was out and flying with speed she hadn’t known she possessed, straight for the Grand Father’s heart.

  Her aim was true.

  Except Valdin’s reflexes were faster. He deflected the knife with his staff in a blinding flash of light. The dagger clanked sharply—but harmlessly—into the guard tower behind him. Yet it still had her intended consequence.

  Two Parents dove into Valdin, knocking him to the ground, shielding him from further attack. Two others tackled her, knocking the wind from her lungs. Her shoulder rammed into the hard-packed road, sending waves of pain down her arm. She briefly thought of her sword, but it was useless, the weight of the men pinning her arms. But through the mess of limbs and robes, she saw what she needed.

  Ferrin had sprung into action. In one smooth motion, he’d drawn his blade and separated the two Parents nearest him from their heads. Boulders Down the Mountainside, that half-heard voice whispered in her mind. The blood that shot from the Parents’ necks was a stark contrast to the white of their robes.

  Almost pretty, she thought through the haze of pain.

  Ferrin disemboweled a third before Erem grabbed his arm and they bolted for the bridge. The last thing she saw was Erem’s face drawn into a gaunt frown as he looked back at her. She hoped he saw the understanding in her eyes.

  “Get off me you fools!” Valdin bellowed. “After them! You cursed, blubbering idiots. Let me up. After them! After them!”

  There was a scuffling of boots and flashes of white robes at the edge of her vision. Then Shinzar was standing over her.

  “You must think you’re so clever,” he sneered. “But this will only make things worse for your friends. You think the Grand Father hadn’t planned for contingencies?”

  The coldness of his words drove the brief feeling of victory from her. What did he mean? Erem and Ferrin had escaped.

  Hadn’t they?

  Before she could put voice to these questions, Shinzar raised his mace, driving the butt of it down into her face. Again. And again. Her head exploded into a storm of agony. From somewhere far away she thought she heard the Grand Father shout a protest.

  She neither felt nor heard anything else for quite some time.

  34

  Ferrin

  Trimale fought the fiends of the Great War not with blade or staff or bow, but with a bell. Birthed of the Glofar forges, this curious weapon bore many names. Aecktorian, in the old tongue. The Disperser. Dawn Raiser. Its low peel struck fear i
n shadow friends and shattered the hearts of the Elsewhere’s creatures. But after Agar’s fall at the last battle, Aecktorian ceased to sing, its song dying with the breaking of Agarsfar’s founding fellowship.

  -From the preface to the Millennial Printing of Tragnè’s Oral Histories, written by Rikar Bladesong

  EREM’S INSISTENT TUG felt as if it were happening to another person. Light flashed around them, chunks of stone flying off the bridge as the man dragged him across. It seemed impossible that all the hexes and debris missed them. But Ferrin barely noticed their luck. The ground rumbled.

  All his focus was on the vision of that Priest clubbing Jenzara. That was the last he’d seen of her before Erem had rushed him over the bridge. The remaining Parents had closed in around Shinzar, Jenzara motionless at his feet. Valdin had been shouting something, no doubt commending their brutal treatment of her.

  What have I done? When Jenzara had given him that knowing look it’d almost been like they were children again, teaming up to win a courtyard game of slink and snoop, coordinating to tag a hidden opponent. What an idiot he’d been to think this a game. He hadn’t even considered she could be hurt.

  He’d never killed anyone before. It’d been far easier than he’d imagined. Messier too. Subtle shift in feet to Blaze stance; hand on hilt—not too loose, not too firm; pull up; flick wrist. Blood had shot from the Parents’ necks like molten chocolate from the fountain on Ral’s feast day.

  For an instant he felt sick to his stomach, thinking of taking life from another in such a way. But he quickly pushed the useless sentiment away. Those men, and the ones he’d killed with the hex before them, had gotten what they deserved. He’d done what was necessary to protect himself and his companions. All that mattered now was getting Jenzara back.

  Silence.

  The explosions around them had ceased. He increased his resistance to Erem’s yanking and the man relented, coming to a halt. Ferrin turned, beholding the destruction.