The Rogue Trilogy

by Elizabeth Carlton

  That elicited another long sigh from the rogue, who suddenly felt very uncomfortable. “She said King Mekkai has every intention of negotiating an arranged marriage… between you and Sadikaye.”

  Jaspur expected those words to rattle Deley. He watched her carefully, searching for a gasp; a silently troubled pause; anything to reveal the tear those words must cause as it forced her to submit to the responsibilities of her birthright.

  Yet Deley didn’t even flinch. Her head bobbed slowly up and down, accepting the choice as if she were a soldier taking on new orders.

  “This doesn’t surprise you?” he guessed.

  “King Mekkai has never wanted me in Whitewood. He was all too encouraging when I left on an extended journey of self-discovery. Pairing me with Sadikaye would be an honorable way for Whitewood to rid its castle of a shameful reminder of its past while growing its influence. It makes sense.” She offered Jaspur a smile. “Works out well for everybody, really. You get your alliance, King Mekkai gets rid of me, and I get away from Whitewood’s scorn.”

  Jaspur squinted. “So you’re okay with all of this?”

  She shrugged. “I was already planning to leave Whitewood for a life among my father’s people. This just solidifies that path for me.”

  “As a queen,” the rogue reminded.

  She bit her lip. “Yes… I admit, I wasn’t quite expecting that.”

  Jaspur’s frowned deepened. “What if King Mekkai uses you to influence Sadikaye’s decisions?”

  Deley snorted in a way that was most unlady-like. “If King Mekkai thinks I would remain loyal to Whitewood after what he did to my father and how he treated me, he is sorely mistaken.”

  The anger bubbling beneath that statement hiked Jaspur’s brows high above his eyes. Until now, Deley had displayed a genteel temperament, but it seemed there was far more to the half-elf’s reasons for leaving Whitewood than just her curiosity.

  It was a bias that would certainly work in their favor. Without a dual sense of allegiance, Jaspur felt he could trust Deley at Sadikaye’s side.

  “I am surprised by how well you’re taking this, but I am grateful for your cooperation.”

  Deley smiled. “I know the responsibilities of my birthright, Jaspur. This kind of arrangement has nothing to do with love or desire. It’s just politics, and to be honest I would rather be on your side of that chess board than King Mekkai’s. Call it a personal grudge, but I was never quite fond of him, nor he of me.”

  Jaspur rubbed the scruff on his chin. “I see.”

  “If anything, it is Sadikaye you should be worried about. I do not think he had the same talk about marriage that you and I did growing up.”

  Rising to his feet, the rogue offered Deley his hand. “Aye, I’ll have my work cut out for me there.”

  Deley accepted his outstretched palm and pulled herself back onto her feet. “Tell him ahead of time. You don’t want that kind of negotiation dropped on him out of the blue.”

  “Are you sure it won’t spook him?”

  “Have faith in Sadikaye. He is more resilient than you think.”

  * * * * * *

  After his walk with Deley, Jaspur asked her to inform the young prince to meet him by the city’s entrance for training.

  “You’ll tell him the truth then?” she had pressed.

  “Yes.”

  “Today?”

  “Of course.”

  “Promise me.”

  Jaspur rolled his eyes. “Why must women second guess everything I say?”

  When Deley crossed her arms, he understood she wouldn’t leave until he agreed. “Fine. You have my word. Are you satisfied?”

  She was, and now Jaspur found himself standing by the front gate of Moonridge awaiting Sadikaye’s arrival while feeling downright serpentine. When he had offered to train his son, he never intended it to have a motive, but Sadikaye wouldn’t believe that now. Dropping the arranged marriage on him after their session would only paint Jaspur as more conniving than the boy already believed him to be.

  However, the rogue had little choice. By the end of tonight, Sadikaye needed to be onboard with whatever may cross the negotiation table, and it was up to Jaspur to make it happen.

  “I could use really your help, Ray…” he murmured to the sky.

  Closing his eyes, he reached for the kunah around his neck, but all he heard was the howl of the mountain’s biting wind. Taking a deep breath, Jaspur let his hands fall back to his hips.

  Yearn though he might, his cousin would not lend his insight. Rayhan’s spirit had not visited Jaspur since his Awakening. The rogue should consider himself eternally thankful that the goddess had allowed the late general to cross the boundaries of the Veil and communicate with him when she did.

  Rayhan’s unexpected visit had saved Jaspur’s life, but he could not expect it to continue forever. With Rayhan’s duty fulfilled, he had returned to the afterlife where he belonged. Jaspur now had to continue his journey on his own.

  Offering a friendly nod to one of the guards, he leaned up against the nearby wall and considered what he should say. It had been a long time since he received the marriage talk from his father, King Donovan.

  What was it he said? Jaspur could faintly recall the use of a metaphor. Something about growing roots with time that fed the relationship and blossomed into feelings.

  “Tsk,” arms crossed, Jaspur plopped his back against the wall and scoffed at his poor memory. King Donovan had done a fine job of convincing Rayhan and Jaspur that arranged marriages weren’t so bad.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t have his father’s prose, nor Ray’s charm. Jaspur had only his unapologetic logic to lean on in order to convince Sadikaye of his duty.

  If only he hadn’t promised Sadikaye he could delay his choice in becoming a king. That misguided act of kindness made this task exponentially more difficult.

  “Well done, Jaspur,” he muttered to himself. “You let yourself grow soft, and now it is boomeranging back to bite you in the—”

  “Jaspur!”

  Jaspur turned to find Sadikaye. When the boy joined his side, he was panting, his face glistening with beads of sweat. The rogue’s eyes widened at the sight. “Did you run all the way here?”

  Hunched over with his palms planted on his knees, Sadikaye fought to catch his breath. “Yeah.”

  Jaspur blew a tuft of mahogany hair away from his eyes, his lips curving into a bemused smirk. “Why did I bother to spend so much time teaching you etiquette if you just intend to ignore it all?”

  Sadikaye cocked his head. “Huh?”

  With a snort, the rogue turned and headed for the city’s entryway. Sadikaye scrambled to catch up, his eager gait falling in line behind Jaspur’s long stride.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Away from prying eyes,” Jaspur explained. “What I intend to teach you today is not something I care for the elves to learn.”

  Those words were like throwing oil on a fire. Sadikaye could hardly conceal his swelling enthusiasm.

  It only mounted the guilt inside the rogue’s chest. In his attempt to be a better person, he had put himself in a situation where he felt the need to bribe his own son before letting him down. He could only hope Sadikaye would forgive him.

  They walked about a mile down the road before detouring to a small shelter used many times over as a camping spot. A small fire pit sat in the center, while a stump about two feet high stood beside it. Jaspur swept the thin layer of snow off of its surface and patted it.

  “Sit,” he instructed.

  Sadikaye glanced at the stump, then back to Jaspur. “Why?”

  “Do you want to learn how to weave magic or not?”

  “Weave magic?”

  “An orb, Sadikaye. Do you want to learn how to harness your magic and use it as a weapon?”

  “You mean the magic ball you made when you fought the wendigo?”

  “Gods grant me patience,” Jaspur muttered. “Yes. I am going to show you how to m
ake a ‘magic ball’. However, before that you must learn how to gauge and control your wellspring.”

  “My what?”

  The rogue walked over and placed his hands on Sadikaye’s shoulders, then pushed him down so that he sat upon the stump. “Cross your legs and close your eyes.”

  With a shrug, Sadikaye did as he was instructed and rested his hands on his knees.

  “I want you to take ten deep breaths,” Jaspur explained. “As you do, notice the warmth inside of your core. Residing in the center of your abdomen, you’ll notice it feels similar to the light of a fire.”

  “We could certainly use a fire out here,” Sadikaye whispered.

  Jaspur flicked an ear in the boy’s direction. “Focus, Sadikaye.”

  The young prince straightened and took a deep breath, then another, falling into a rhythm as he imagined looking inside of himself. He had never meditated before. It was strange to have the world around him suddenly feel so far away.

  At first, all he could hear was the sound of his breath. Then he began to fall deeper, feeling the beat of his heart and the lifeblood it carried. Air shuddered between his lips as he tried to keep his focus steady.

  “Look inside yourself, Sadikaye,” Jaspur said, and his voice sounded far away despite his close proximity.

  Clenching his eyes, the young prince sought the flame Jaspur spoke of. Feeling his awareness sink into his chest, Sadikaye noticed a flicker of light.

  Was that it? He mentally drew himself closer, watching the light grow. It appeared like a fountain of sparks, shimmering and glowing in a delightful dance.

  “I think I found it,” he whispered.

  “Good,” Jaspur’s voice replied. “Imagine yourself reaching into it and taking a piece for yourself. This light is part of your life force, so don’t be greedy. Grab only a strand.”

  With lips parted slightly and each breath drawing deep, Sadikaye reached his spirit’s hand inside the light. It was warm but not scalding. Pinching his fingers together, he drew his arm back to find a single ribbon of magic wiggling between them.

  “Do you have it?” Jaspur asked.

  Sadikaye nodded.

  “Good. Open your eyes.”

  When Sadikaye opened his eyes, he nearly fell out of his seat.

  “Whoa!” he shouted, for in his open palm was a small, swirling ribbon of magic.

  “Hold still,” Jaspur commanded. “Do not lose focus.”

  Swallowing hard, Sadikaye calmed his thrumming heart as he studied the magic in his hand. “It’s different from yours.”

  “Aye,” Jaspur crouched, his blue eyes studying the peculiar strand. “Magic varies in color from person to person, but yours has a unique texture. It is almost…”

  “Electric,” Sadikaye finished for him. He held the magic before his eyes, mesmerized.

  “Indeed,” Jaspur rubbed his chin, perplexed. “We should ask Tobiano about it after this war is over. Perhaps he can explain why.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  The rogue shook his head. “I do not think so.” Standing up, he nodded to his son’s palm. “Curve your hand like you’re holding a ball.”

  Sadikaye obeyed, his eyes never leaving the golden strand of sparks.

  “Good, now direct your energy toward the strand. Envision it swirling into a sphere.”

  Pressing his lips together, Sadikaye poured all of his focus into that one directive. Suddenly, the strand began spinning faster and faster, weaving over and around itself.

  “Keep going,” Jaspur encouraged.

  Sure enough, the light began to grow. The strand became a sphere, expanding in Sadikaye’s palm.

  “Well done,” the rogue smiled. “Now bring your focus back upon yourself. The orb should stay as-is.”

  Sadikaye carefully slid from his seat on the stump, his eyes wide as he stared as what he had made. “Whoa…”

  Jaspur chuckled. “Look at the fire pit, Sadikaye. Do you see the kindling and wood left inside the ring of stones?”

  The boy pulled the orb away from his face and nodded.

  “Treat the orb like a ball and toss it upon the wood.”

  “But the wood is wet…”

  “Do as I say and see what happens.”

  Sadikaye hesitated, then tipped his hand over the fire pit. The orb fell, losing its form as it crashed against the kindling. As soon as it made contact, the snow hissed, kindling smoked, and with a pop a new flame rose to light: this one made of true fire.

  “Pure magic burns hotter than fire,” Jaspur explained. “It will consume nearly anything it touches, but it feeds best upon tainted magic.”

  Sadikaye turned his gaze from the fire back to his palm. There were no singe marks or anything at all to indicate what had been there moments before.

  “So with it I can kill Shadow?”

  All the mirth drained from the rogue’s face. “Heed my words, Sadikaye: you are to be a prince, not a hero. To fell Shadow at his weakest will take far more than your wellspring of magic. When the time comes to slay the tyrant, you will leave him to me.”

  The gravity of Jaspur’s tone quelled any protests Sadikaye may have had before. A chill rippled across his skin, and it had nothing to do with the mountain snow.

  “Come, let us head back,” the rogue bid, his tone a bit softer.

  “Already?”

  Jaspur hooked an arm around his son’s shoulders and guided him back to the main road. “I want you to practice what I just showed you for an hour every day. Get comfortable with finding and borrowing from your wellspring. It will take time, but once you do you’ll be ready to learn other things.”

  Sadikaye found himself looking at his hand again, his imagination trying to fathom what all he was capable of. Jaspur watched from the corner of his eye, the marvel on his son’s face squeezing the shackle of guilt around his chest.

  Sadikaye was a good kid, and more like Jaspur than he knew. The more the rogue spent time with him, the more he saw a reflection of his younger self. It made him wonder who he would have been had Shadow’s sins not jaded his heart. He hoped there was enough of Levee in their son to take whatever the future held in stride without letting it mar his soul.

  Which reminded him...

  Bringing Sadikaye to a stop, he turned to face the boy. “Before we head back, there is one more thing I want to share with you.”

  The young prince looked up from his hand, his ears perked. “What is it?”

  Clenching his jaw, Jaspur squinted out at the rolling mountains stretching beyond the wide road. “Elessara approached me after our meeting. She said she wanted to warn me of the proposal King Mekkai would likely bring to the table when he arrives.”

  Sadikaye grew serious then. It amazed Jaspur how such a boyish face could age within an instant. Between the coal around his eyes and the scrunch of his eyebrows, he looked more like a warrior than a kid.

  “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

  Jaspur sighed. “Depends on how you look at it, really.”

  “Look, if this is about me taking the throne, I already decided I would do it.”

  The rogue’s head jerked back toward his son. “You did?”

  Sadikaye shrugged. “I talked to Deley and realized my birthright isn’t a choice. It’s a responsibility. Without me, there is no negotiation, and there is no alliance. Our people are depending on me to see this through. I won’t let them down.”

  “Even if it means an arranged marriage with an elven noble?”

  Sadikaye’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head. He fell back a step, startled. “I’m supposed to marry someone?”

  “Deley, to be precise.”

  “My cousin?!”

  If Jaspur waited too long, he was certain Sadikaye’s head would burst. He had to say something to ease his mind. Grabbing the boy by the shoulders he said, “Relax. We aren’t asking you to fall in love with her. A political arrangement is like… a business contract.”

  Sadikaye frowned. “A busin
ess contract…”

  “It is a way for two kingdoms to solidify an alliance. With Deley by your side, you will be less likely to make political decisions that are adverse to Whitewood. You will appear to others united as a couple, but what happens behind closed doors is completely between you two.”

  Sadikaye’s face contorted in horror.

  “Meaning you do not have to be romantically involved,” Jaspur quickly clarified, much to Sadikaye’s relief.

  The boy calmed down a bit, though he still appeared conflicted. “Does Deley know about this?”

  Jaspur released him and nodded. “I informed her this morning.”

  “And she’s okay with it?”

  “Of course,” the rogue replied. “She sees this for what it is, Sadikaye, and she intends to stand by you and help you lead your kingdom, should you let her.”

  Sadikaye thought about it for many moments. Jaspur was patient. He stood quietly, allowing his son time to come to grips with what he was saying.

  “So she would willingly stand beside me?” he asked. “As my queen… as a friend?”

  “Aye. Deley believes in you, Sadikaye.”

  “She does,” he smiled.

  Jaspur patted his shoulder. “We all do.”

  Sadikaye nodded, his anxiety dwindling under the faith of his companions. All along, Jaspur had reminded him this task was not one he faced alone. Looking up at his sire and mentor, he couldn’t deny the feeling that this man would stand beside him and Deley every step of the way.

  It was strangely comforting.

  “Alright, then,” he said. “Let’s seal this alliance.”

  NEGOTIATIONS

  For the first time in a long time, Elessara felt nervous. She fidgeted at the desk in her study, flipping from a large book, to a scroll, to her notes, but the words wouldn’t stick. Her mind was too distracted.

  The negotiations were to begin shortly. King Mekkai had arrived late last night and was preparing with his advisors to meet with Sadikaye and his company. Word had it, the young prince was still waiting on one other person to arrive. A re’shahna of great import, though they were reticent to say who.