As she picked up the pace, Lanico briefly forgot where they were, who they were. She was entrancing. A glorious sight in her turns and graceful agility. Her delicate fluidity. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever witnessed anything more captivating. No. It was her. It was always her. It seemed that everything she could ever do kept him entranced.
She abruptly paused, breaking his spell, and shifted a glance to the rocky wall next to them. Wisps of pink glittering magic sparked against the surface and traced all the way up, high up, against the side. The embedded stones had heard Treva’s command! Had responded to her!
To Lanico’s sobering surprise, narrow glistening stones began to ground, jutting from the wall. The rough various-sized rocks slowly rotated, swiveling out. It was only in a matter of seconds that jagged stone climbing steps became visible waiting for her tiny feet to tap upon them.
“Oh,” Lanico uttered under his breath not hiding his bewilderment.
Treva looked back at him quickly and flashed a smile. Relief, it worked, still.
“Well, that explains the visit from that old warlock before he moved into these chambers.” He scratched his head. “Izra loved magic.” And women. He didn’t say.
The stones waited for their ascent and remained fixed. But, for only so long.
“We must climb at the pace, at the beat of the dark waltz, or else the stones will retract.” She instructed.
Lanico looked at her baffled. As if someone would have figured this puzzle out—Izra went ahead and made a backup security feature? On this?
“Oh, my Izra. My friend and oathed brother. How I adore your love for magic, dancing, and perhaps even your thirst for women at this moment.” Lanico then hoisted himself up. He was, for just this once, thankful he had been formally trained at the dance.
In a dry tone Treva said, “Right. Don’t forget to lose the pace.” She didn’t care for that comment about Izra’s “thirst” for women, and her tone didn’t betray it. The sad truth was that after Lanico had rejected her, and before she and Izra came together, she and the deceased Lieutenant General Izra were both lost. They had both been exceedingly lonely. Had both leisured in the same brothels with the other Knights in between battles in those days. They had even slept with the same—No. None of it had meant anything and she did have her regrets. The difference was that she wasn’t as famous as the deceased Lieutenant General had been, and his reputation was often scandal-laden. The General Prince, occupied with great responsibilities within the kingdom, hadn’t always been around to lead them in those days. Lanico rightly left his Lieutenant General, Izra in charge.
Here in the present, she didn’t approve of this lingering opinion of him—even after his death. Izra was her late husband after all. At a distance, she followed up after Lanico, glowering.
In delight, Lanico remembered the beat, the quick one, two, three count...placing careful step after careful step he ascended. Once at the ledge, Lanico reached up and cautiously pulled himself over. He didn’t notice any guards patrolling this narrow landing outside Izra’s old room. They already left.
The narrow landing there bloomed into the large veranda farther off and ended only a few feet away to a fine pointed sliver. From the sky, he imagined it likely resembled a curved teardrop and Izra’s ledge was the narrowest point at the very sharp top—where Lanico’s chambers began. Lanico’s ledge was only wide enough for a perching canary.
Lanico, with a solid step on the landing, turned and squinted into the room’s dusty windows. So many years had passed.
Treva’s breathing grew closer as she climbed.
Lanico peered into the room. The glass was fogged with dust. Squinting in, it appeared to look the same as he had remembered it all those years ago. Big, red, stone, and—
Growling, Treva’s purple hands patted over the edge of the wall, quivering and white-knuckled. Her armor was heavy and audibly scrapped against the side.
“Treva!” Lanico, so lost in memory, had nearly forgotten her. He turned to help heave her over the ledge. His strength seemingly boundless, he pulled her upward with little effort. She aided in this by pushing against the footed purchase. The force of her coming over sent them both careening backward and onto the narrow pathway, she landing atop of him with a combined oof. A small smile graced his mouth, the crooked kind that revealed his pink gumline and canine teeth. The kind that made her heart skip. She was entwined in his legs most pleasingly but her eyes said, Not now.
“Of course,” he mouthed, jerking his head toward the window above. “There.”
They gathered themselves and made a quick feel over their sheathed weapons and gear. All was in place. They squinted into the chambers.
Her heart melted. “It’s exactly the way I remembered. Our chambers. Where our Marin was born.” The corner of her mouth tugged a sad smile. She gulped and inhaled sharply pushing that memory behind. She’d have time for peace and recollections later.
There would be no easy way in. This window has been locked for unknown weeks, or perhaps, years. Lanico tried to jar it open with force, but it remained. “We’re going to have to break it,” he conceded.
“Right.” Treva turned toward the wall behind her and grabbed a thick wad of grass. No, an abandoned bird nest. Without pause, she wrapped the nest around her fist and thrust it through the window. The thin glass shattered causing high-pitched sounds they both detested. They both recoiled, but then quickly moved onward. She turned her hand in and unlocked the window. Once unlocked, Lanico jerked it slightly before it gave and opened with a wide swing.
Lanico gave her a surprised raised eyebrow glance. A nest?
“Hey, lucky for you, Prince, I am cunning and have tough farm-girl hands.” She shrugged twisting an impish smile at him.
“Hey, what happened to King?”
She shrugged in careless response, dropping the nest allowing it to land in a bouncing roll. She then made a sassy smile and Lanico found himself continuously dazzled by her. She was so unruffled. Certainly not the type of lady the deceased King would have wanted for his son.
One at a time they entered the room. Lanico entered first. The stale air had been sealed inside this vast space. No one had cleaned the chambers in some time. It made sense. There were a large number of stately rooms in the castle. Grude and his closest guards likely took up residence in other places. It was something to be thankful for; that at least this room hadn’t been violated by them.
Treva’s metal armor clanged slightly against the window frame as she moved agilely through. She grimaced at the sound, but realized it could have been worse.
Landing her foot, Treva looked around as they quickly walked through toward the heavy door across the room. The room smelled of stale air. There were many memories here, for both of them. Under a shroud of dust lay a crib, linens, and piles of folded baby clothes stacked on top of a dresser, still waiting to be placed in their drawers—Lika’s quickly abandoned work. Dust blanketed everything.
Denying herself the option to reminisce or to sneeze, she hardened herself and made quiet strides. Their focus was the door at the other end of the chambers. They needed to make haste to the throne room—to Grude, and shift the future of Odana. And drawing noise would not benefit them.
She made a quick eye connection to Lanico. “At least Grude hadn’t claimed and defiled this room.” He gave a stiff nod of agreement.
“My thoughts exactly.” He responded.
Quickly, their booted feet padded across the granite floor. They moved in silent stealth through a narrow pathway of end tables and nursery furniture. Treva felt the cold wind tickle from the broken window behind. Distracted, she turned. Her hip swiped against a table upsetting an ornamental vase that rocked before plummeting to the floor. In a flash, she hurled herself and caught it. However, her dive caused her armor to give a clamorous cacophony. Wide-eyed, she looked up to find Lanico’s stern stare bearing down on her. Shit! She saved the vase, but the noise, the heavy crash of metallic cymbals�
�it would have been better to let the glass vase fall.
They stood still. There was silence.
Nothing.
Treva huffed a hint of laugh, but then...there was a call. A distant Mysra shout.
Oh shit.
The hair on her neck rose and Lanico made a low groan. Loud steps raced up the corridor, and there was more than one set coming!
Oh shit. Oh shit!
In a flurry of movement, they scampered.
Chapter 25
The things that had made his dreams
The door moaned dejectedly, opening wide. Dim light of day invaded the chambers in murky rays. The light pulsed in quick bursts, then, once stilled, illuminated the two guards investigating the mysterious crash. One, the main guard, was perhaps a superior of some sort, based on his decorated Mysra armor. The second Mysra seemed a scarred subordinate with a softer physique and worn uniform. The groves on the subordinate’s neck and face suggested the Mysra had seen his fair share of knife fights. The sound of heavy breathing and booted steps disrupted the stillness of the space. The superior guard’s eyes shifted, scanning the area for movement, for anything. He turned to his partner behind him, who was still holding the massive door open. “Nothing. There’s noth—” A cool draft chilled his skin and silenced his words. The window. His gaze shot beneath the window to glistening glass littering the floor. Raindrops sprinkled, splashing in.
The guard’s hand tightened the grip of his sword as he placed another step. His voice was slow. “What in the fires—”
A flash of silver and Lanico pounced.
Their blades met with a thunderous clash, but not just theirs. At the same moment, Treva was pummeling the scarred guard, who had been dashing in after his superior. The door he held was thankfully closing now. The fighting sounds they made would be reduced.
The scarred guard was about to attack Lanico from behind, his knife anchored back, but Treva slammed a fist to his immense shoulder, causing his knife to drop—only briefly disabling his arm. He turned, standing tall. His hateful glare raked down at her. She hadn’t caused him any pain, but her blow was just enough to stop what would have been a fatal swing upon Lanico. She was ready, her falchion and long sword drawn.
It was unfortunate that the superior guard had been trained well at the sword. Most high-ranking Mysra castle guards were. He and Lanico circled. Slowly. Watching for any hint of movement while somewhere behind them or perhaps worlds away, Treva and the scarred guard were hammering out their own battle. Their shouts and hard movements were drowned out by Lanico’s own bout.
“This room will be the last place you’ll ever see,” the superior guard’s voice graveled in assurance. It was not a threat. It was a promise. A distant crackle of thunder rolled, but Lanico made no comments to this guard’s statement. He focused. They needed to keep the guards here, in Izra’s old chambers and not running free, alerting others. Contrary to his foe, Lanico was certain this would be the last room the guard would see.
The superior took a whirling step and their clashes resumed. He swiped; Lanico deflected, spun, and then swung. The Mysra moved back, and the edge of Reluctant Leader caught his arm. He railed in pain, but steadied himself. Black blood pooled his sleeve. Lanico was grateful the door was closed, but hoped that the guard’s noise, their fighting, wasn’t heard by anyone else. The last thing that they needed were more castle guards thwarting their plan.
They circled again. “You’ll pay for that with your life,” the superior guard huffed. And again, the guard lunged toward Lanico, their swords coming in together. The Mysra’s weight bore down on Reluctant Leader, the General Prince strained under it.
Remembering his other limbs, Lanico slammed a kick into the Mysra’s inner thigh, and the pain was crippling. The superior fell, one knee landing and his injured leg flaying out. Not sparing any risk of further injuring him and therefore, further sound, Lanico in one move slashed his blade. The Mysra’s head rolled off his shoulders. Hearing Treva’s patterned clash, Lanico looked back to her. He frowned at her rudimentary back-and-forth movements.
“What are you—a cat playing with her food before the kill?” he scoffed at her basic strikes. “Stop that and end him already.”
Fine. She whirled, ducking under his slow swipe. She popped back up, and thrust her falchion through his sternum. The entry was at a vertical angle. He screamed, but in a whirling flash, she cut that short. Her other blade sliced his vocal cords. His body slumped to the floor.
She panted. “I was just—whew, just practicing.”
He gave a cold stare but softened. “Thanks for taking that other guard off my back,” he panted and jerked his head to the dead Mysra guard. An enormous pool of inky blood surrounded his lifeless body.
“Told you I wasn’t going to let you get killed.” She twisted a smile.
“Right.” He started to move toward the door to resume, but paused mid-step. Treva was traveling closely to him once more. “You planning on knocking over any more of my valuables, or can we get back to hunting down Grude?” The vase was not Izra’s but came with the royal rooms.
“Your valuables? I thought you said this was our castle.” She answered with a playful smirk.
The corner of his mouth curled.
Lanico leaned to lurch open the chamber door. It responded with a clank. He immediately felt the kiss of cold sweat on his neck and hands at the metallic sound. His heart beat against his chest, almost thumping against his leather armor. He was really here. The moments passing, the moments ahead of him, had been the things that had made his dreams. The door moaned.
✽✽✽
Their eyes scanned, looking out from the room down the long corridor. Breathing was measured. A calm before the killing. They quietly stepped out from the room and into the cold stone hallway. A slight draft breezed through their hair as they bent forward looking out cautiously.
It was pure luck that the Mysra guards that were posted on the balcony were called away, but there was no guarantee that they would have this luck again and avoid another encounter before finding Grude.
Treva and Lanico were both remarkable warriors with years of experience and missions. No one in the whole of Odana could match their level of skill on the battlefield. But, no matter how skilled, they knew they were grossly outnumbered by large and exceedingly strong Mysra—ones trained in sword fighting. They took extreme caution.
Lanico stepped forward wielding Reluctant Leader, the handle firm in his grip. Its silver gleam shone in the brightened hallway. He heard the slight echoing of his booted feet and caught the scent of the familiar hallway.
Yes. The sight, the scents here filled him with energy and determination. He was home. This was his home and he would fight to the death for it. But inside he knew he was going to emerge victorious. He could already see this. There could only be victory for him; anything less would spell doom. He quickened his pace and with crooking fingers over his shoulder, motioned for Treva to follow.
Noticing his signal, she followed with both her swords at the ready, but led with the falchion.
They approached the stairs and began to move down. A reverberating boom of thunder rolled. The smell of food lingered in the air as they descended. It would have almost smelled delicious had it not been for the nerves and raw adrenaline.
The wide stairway curled tightly and therefore with every step uncertainty lie ahead. Lanico cast a quick glance at Treva behind him. “Ready?” He connected his gaze to hers.
Treva’s was a stern war face. She answered with a wicked smile and an arched eyebrow. “What do you think, Prince?”
He turned from her. She’s ready, he thought in deep satisfaction.
✽✽✽
Their heartbeats pounded. Anticipation and adrenaline coursed. For them, it was a deadly concoction. Their steps seemed an eternity, before they neared the bottom of the staircase. They turned the winding corner down.
There! Just at the base of the stairway the large looming outline of a M
ysra appeared.
A guard was stationed at the bottom of the stairway. They heard the Mysra’s heavy mouth breathing from their short distance.
Lanico shot Treva a quick glance and held a finger to his mouth, demanding silence. She looked at their target again.
Lanico carefully came right behind the unsuspecting Mysra. The Mysra guard looked out over open space in front of him, keeping watch from a few steps above the landing. He was focused and didn’t hear their soft footing, directly behind him.
Lanico thought he’d use this to his advantage. It wasn’t his preferred way to kill, from behind. In fact, he’d lecture his Knighted Lieutenants and any Soldiers to never resort to it. But, now in this moment when the fate of his entire kingdom was in the balance, it was necessary. Reluctant Leader was still firm in his hand. He raised the sharp point to just at the back of the Mysra’s thick gray neck. His hands were sweaty against the grip. With expert precision he thrust his blade forward; severing the Mysra’s neck bones and throat in one swift move. The move pierced his vocal cords and killed him in an instant, without sound. It was a strategically placed thrust, free of suffering. The large Mysra’s heavy body tumbled with muffled thuds. An immense sack of potatoes beneath their feet.
The Legacy of Lanico: Return of the Son: Book two of the Legacy of Lanico series Page 23
