Song (The Manhunters Book 1)

by Jesse Teller

  “The bar,” Rayph said. “And the rooms upstairs. I want to rent them for the afternoon. No customers in or out, save those I allow. This pays for all the time and drinks and food.”

  The shrewd man before him narrowed his eyes. “Not enough. I will lose a lot of money from my regulars. The king is in town. What if he comes to my door? By law I must entertain him or it is my hide. No, I will need twice this much to do as you ask.”

  Rayph added half again and glared at the man. “If the king should decide he needs my seat, I will oblige for your sake. Anyone short of him, and I will ask you to turn them away.” Rayph turned to see Trysliana staring at him from the far corner of the bar. “I want her to serve us,” Rayph said. She winked at him and snatched up her towel, tossing it on her shoulder in proper sassy fashion.

  Rayph pointed at her with false ire. “No distracting my man,” Rayph said. “He will be hard at work.”

  She scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “Here I thought he was my man.”

  Rayph laughed. Smear met him in their corner, and they waited. How many times had he been in a situation like this one with Smear? How many times had they played the waiting game? Countless times, countless hours spent like this, doing nothing but wasting time, waiting for something important to happen. Rayph looked at Smear and realized how much he missed times like these.

  Rayph’s heart ached for Archialore as Smear’s eyes belonged to the drink wench. Smear studied her every move. Every table she wiped caught his attention. Every time she slapped away a stray hair from her face, he grinned. Rayph realized Trysliana was putting on a show for Smear, bending just right, humming just so. The dance of attraction was in full swing. She was performing for him.

  Rayph laughed, and the door banged open. Smear started and turned his attention to the seven men stomping in their direction.

  Medey dropped into the seat across from Rayph and leaned his spear against the table. Trysliana met him with a steaming plate of exotic food. She dropped it before him and turned to go. Medey grabbed her wrist and spun her around.

  He looked down at the food and pointed at it with a stubby, callused finger. “How did you know what I would order?” He seemed ready to slap her, and Smear put his hand on Medey’s wrist.

  Medey glared, and Rayph laughed.

  “When I first came here, I found a waiting glass of trimerian wine set before me,” Rayph said. “She has a way of knowing who will walk through that door and when. She has a way of having what you need ready.”

  Medey shook his head and released her hand.

  “Thanks,” she said. “If you need anything…”

  “I’m sure you will be here before we can say anything about it,” Smear said. She smiled and sauntered off.

  “Tell him not to put his hands on me again if his aim is to keep them,” Medey snapped, pointing at Smear.

  “That would be a fight I would pay to see,” Rayph said.

  Medey snorted at Smear and grunted.

  “Now we are here. Can you tell me why you have come?” Rayph said.

  “King demanded I leave my post and escort him here. Said he would watch the flowers bloom with me at his side.”

  “What does he want with you?” Rayph asked. Medey shrugged, and Rayph laughed. “Liar. You are not half as clueless as you let on. You play the brute. I know better. You know what he wants. Now, if it is none of my business, then tell me and I will move on, but don’t tell me you have no idea. You are slyer than that.”

  “Same thing he has wanted since you left your post, I would wager. He wants me to cross the border.”

  “He wants you to invade Corlene?” Rayph asked.

  Medey nodded. Smear shook his head in disgust.

  “He came to me about it five years ago, not long after you abandoned us. Said he was tired of sharing a border with such an inflammatory nation. Said their constant war had become a danger to our borders, as if he knows anything going on in that country. I assured him of my strength, told him that should the threat become imminent, I would defend Lorinth until such a time as a proper army could be raised. I told him I knew Corlene, had studied its rulers and its history. Reminded him of my two forts lining its borders and the legacy my family held, defending those borders since the time of Pax.”

  Medey stuffed a piece of meat in his mouth, and his face turned red. The overpowering spice of the food had him reaching for his mug. He grunted at the plate, clearly satisfied.

  “So why are you here then, instead of fighting a war with Corlene?” Rayph asked.

  “He is a coward. If he gives the order for me to commit, then he has to join me. He knows his lineage. He knows what the blood of Pax demands. He knows he would be called upon to join me after my initial incursion. He knows he would lead the second thrust once I had secured a foothold. But if I chose to march on my own, he can name me high warlord and send me support without having to leave his castle. That is his wish. That is why he brought me out to see a bunch of flowers and little girls dancing. Song had not a decent wall to defend her until a few years ago. It is no proper bastion for a king to occupy.”

  “He is safe here, to be sure,” Rayph said.

  “Sure, he is now that I am here, now that you are here. But to bring the prince to a festival so far from his cradle, after what he went through.”

  “We have talked of this before, Titus. Thomas is not frail. He is a lively, powerful boy well on his way to—”

  “Yes, as you have said many times. But I remember when the queen sent for me to watch over him when he was a tyke. I remember staring down at his cradle while he suffocated. The boy was attacked at a young age. I’m sure it still weakens him.”

  “Of that, you would be wrong,” Rayph said. “But this is a discussion for another time. The king is safe. He possesses the Sterling Legion and your own Demonic Horde at his side.” Rayph looked past Medey to the six demonic visages that stared back at him. They stood perfectly still, forming a semicircle around their master, their weapons drawn, their brass masks snarling. “He has Dran and the court wizardess.”

  “Well, Dran is worth any twenty men, to be sure. But that wizardess is as dangerous as that bar wench back there.” He jerked a thumb coated in chicken fat in Trysliana’s direction. “The Lady of Twilight and her feathers are nothing to bank on in a fight.”

  “I will not speak ill of my successor,” Rayph said.

  “Good, you don’t have to. I will do it for the both of us. She is a charlatan. I have seen her works and felt her power and laughed in the face of it. If danger comes, she will be helpless to defend against it.”

  “Danger is here,” Rayph said. “It is on that count I have summoned you here.”

  “Julius Kriss,” Medey said.

  “Exactly, how did you know?”

  “You don’t think I would occupy a city without knowing the villains that people it, do you? I know of the assassin and his bitch. She is a possessing demon, is she not?”

  “She is.”

  “So, she has at her disposal as big an army as she can snatch.”

  “She does.”

  “Then how can you say that boy is safe?”

  “I have summoned Mandrake.”

  “The fey is here?”

  “He is.”

  “That makes me rest easier. Are you here for Julius Kriss?”

  “I am. I have a crew set up to fight him.”

  “What do you need?” Medey said, spitting a knuckle of gristle to the table top before him.

  “I need protection.”

  “From whom?”

  “The king.”

  “You going to make a spectacle of yourself?”

  Rayph looked at Smear and back at Titus. “I need to get his attention. If you defend me when I do, you will draw his ire.”

  “He already has mine. The lady of the house of Song walked up to me the day I got here with a bouquet of closed flowers and said they were a gift from the house of Song to the house of Medey. What kind
of gift is that, I ask you, to make for a fighting man? She looked right into my painted face and gave me flowers.”

  “That, I would have loved to have seen.”

  Medey snarled, and Rayph laughed.

  The Feast

  Rayph Ivoryfist did not slow. He did not hesitate. He stomped up the street, calling forward enough power to fill his aura. A wicked wind rushed from him as he reached his magical potential. The crowd before the castle grounds parted as if he were the prow of a ship pushing its way through the commoners. When he reached the gates, where the beggars pleaded for alms, he kicked off the ground and into the air. The guards stared slack-jawed at him as he rose thirty feet in the air to hover before falling from the sky like a meteor. He slammed the courtyard and a bell sounded out, deep and ominous. It rang out over the whole of the city. Within, everything and everyone held their breath as Rayph resumed his march for the main door of the castle.

  Guards screwed up their courage and rushed between him and the door. With the wave of his hand, he tossed them all gently away. From the wall, a volley of arrows lifted, and he turned on them. He spoke a word and made another errant motion with his hand, and every missile erupted into flame, harsh and hissing. Before they reached Rayph, they were charred to naught but steel that tinkled to the ground harmlessly. The doors to the castle slammed shut, and Rayph made complicated gestures with his hands as he spit out the words of power. His edges rippled, and he reached the door as the last brace fell into place.

  Rayph reached the solid wood and pressed his form against it. The wood opened for him as his body became less real, and he passed through the barrier. Arrows rushed forward from assembled archers. They sheared through Rayph harmlessly to thunk into the wood he had just passed through. He leapt once more, clearing the ranks of men poised to stop him, to the landing of the great staircase that rose behind them.

  With a whirling of smoke, a figure took form. She wore red and white robes and her blonde hair rolled around her like a storm. Her eyes gleamed, with fear or hate he couldn’t tell, and she lifted her hands before her and summoned her power. “There and no farther,” she warned as her hands crackled with power and the air drew in tight and thick around her.

  Rayph looked her in the eye and shook his head. “I will not be shown away,” he said. “I will be brought before the king. I have pressing words to speak to him.”

  “My master has proclaimed you unwelcome in his house,” she said with an apology in her eyes.

  “Long have I been friend to Timius Song. I have eaten at his table many times. I have instructed you in our craft as well. Will you now wield it against me?”

  “I am helpless to do anything other than fulfill the wishes of the masters of Song, as is my duty as their house wizard. I wish not battle with the mighty Rayph Ivoryfist for I mark him as friend, and I know him to be beyond me. But here I will stand, and my post, defend. If you force me into mortal combat with you, I will screw up my nerve and bring my fires against you.”

  “Take me to your lord. I will speak to him before I continue my march.”

  “I cannot see how it will do anyone any service. The lord’s mind is clear on this. He entertains your enemy, as is his mandate as loyal servant to the king. The king has declared you unwelcome. No word but his will grant you admittance.”

  “If this is true, then my hand is forced. Stand aside, Kristla the Red. I will resume my march.” Rayph knew he couldn’t hurt her. She was too dear to him and the nation at large. But he could not let her stop him either. Too much depended on it. She spun her hands as she brought her power forward in a blast that would reduce a lesser wizard to char. Rayph created a pocket of power before it, and the pocket swallowed the erupting flames, funneling them harmlessly away. The men behind him screamed and made to flee. Rayph stepped forward with a stomp and exploded into smoke. He billowed in every direction as a wind kicked up behind him, blowing him past Kristla and through the castle. She cursed and rushed after it.

  Rayph knew the castle Song well, having been there many times. He blew down corridors and past rooms. He slipped past guards bearing weapons, and up the stairs, where the Sterling Legion marched out against him. Kristla hurried after him, but the congested halls caught her, and she could not keep pace. Rayph passed ballrooms and sitting rooms. Buffeted by his slight wind, he slammed into the heavy door to the main hall and seeped through its cracks. Rayph’s fog filled the banquet hall, and he coalesced in the center of the room. He turned, letting all the diners see him, before landing his gaze on the main table and slamming his eye on the king.

  Phomax leapt to his feet, his face red with drink and wet with sweat. He threw a serving girl from his lap to the floor at the feet of the queen. Thomas leapt to his feet as Mandrake buzzed between Rayph and the prince.

  “Seize him!” the king screamed. “He is a villain, and he is here to kill your king!” Guards from all corners of the room rushed forward with their weapons, and Rayph stood watching them. With a rapping of his spear shaft on the ground, Medey’s Demons marched to the center of the room to post themselves around Rayph. They turned their backs to him and brandished their blades.

  Phomax turned to Titus Medey with rage-soaked eyes. “What exactly are you doing, servant?” the king asked the venerated warrior. “My command is attack. Why do your men stand in Rayph’s defense? Do you wish to witness the power of my steel?” Phomax said, drawing his sword.

  Medey finished chewing his meat before standing in the face of the king. “Think long and hard about what you do with that weapon,” he said. He finished his drink and tossed the goblet to the table. “Rayph has long been friend and ally to me when others stood against me. He has earned my respect, and I will give it by stopping this display of power and settling everyone’s heads.” The door burst open and Kristla broke in. With a swirling of power, she coursed round the room as a beam of light to solidify before Rayph. She looked terrified, and Rayph hated to see her fear. He felt sick to his stomach, but dared not turn away now.

  She summoned up her magic and held her glowing fists before her. The room rumbled and swayed as every person trapped within seethed for the door. Guards from the hall rushed to fill the gap, trapping the diners in the room and raising the level of fear to higher peaks.

  “Kill that deserter!” Phomax screamed. But neither the guards of castle Song nor the soldiers of the Sterling Legion would charge the Demons defending Ivoryfist. The king rounded on Medey, who crossed his arms over his barrel chest.

  “Rayph Ivoryfist walks out of this chamber alive today,” Titus said.

  Phomax nearly screamed in his outrage.

  “I will not let you harm my king, Rayph,” Medey said. “Why are you here?”

  “I have come to warn the king of danger,” Rayph said.

  “You’re the only danger to my safety, Rayph,” Phomax said. “Long have I known your plots to be my demise. I have surrounded myself with mighty men, and I clutch power beyond even you in my new court wizardess, The Lady Twilight.” He extended his hand and a wizardess rose to her feet. An explosion of black feathers erupted above her head as she stood. They drifted to her body and the floor, only to disappear when they touched solid objects. She extended her hands and the room hushed. The sound-dampening spell she cast made the room seem to awe in the presence of her power, but Rayph saw men and women still speaking and whispering.

  “If I sought your death, I would have taken your life long ago, Phomax.”

  “You will address me as Your Highness, servant.”

  “You will find that difficult to enforce. I will not call you that ever again, nor will I abide you calling me servant. Do it again and I will reach a level of irritation you have seldom seen.” Rayph’s voice was a fist on a table. He looked to Kristla before him, and the Lady Twilight, who stepped up beside her, and he sighed.

  “Rayph, say your piece and leave,” Medey said.

  Phomax snorted in rage but said nothing against Medey.

  “A darkne
ss has come to these times that cannot be held at bay by me or those aligned with me. Julius Kriss has come to Song.” A ripple of fear radiated through the whole of the room. “He is commanded by another to take your life at the festival.”

  Phomax shook his head and laughed, but every other face drew tight with grim lines of fear. “Kriss is nothing to me. I possess the Demons of Medey and the Lady Twilight. I have brought my Sterling Legions, commanded by Dran Demar herself. You cannot persuade me not to attend this festival. Your efforts to show me a coward will fail you.”

  “Show you a coward? Is that what I am trying to do? I seek to keep you safe. Turn from this festival, Phomax. Go home immediately, and draw this foe away with you so that Song will be safe to celebrate her rebirth. Sacrifice your own enjoyment for the sake of your people. If you go, Kriss will follow. Song need not know his horror any longer.”

  Phomax shook his head and laughed. “You are a fool, Rayph Ivoryfist, if you think any man, even you, can threaten me here. I am untouchable, invulnerable to any outside force. I have with me—”

  Rayph spoke a word, and his hand burst into flames. “I could kill you right now if I so desired.” His face hardened to stone, and the Lady Twilight nearly passed out. Kristla stepped forward and shook her head.

  “I will not let you take my king, Ivoryfist,” she said, a tremble in her voice and death in her eyes.

  But the king’s reaction was immediate. He had seen that look on Rayph’s face before, had seen it when Rayph unleashed untold wrath. Phomax grabbed Dran, who stood beside him, and shoved her at Rayph. He grabbed his sword and rushed for a side door. The room watched as King Phomax fled for his life.

  Rayph stared at Kristla and back to Medey. Titus nodded ever so slightly, and Ivoryfist turned to go.

  “I will not destroy this castle that I love so greatly. Timius Song, please excuse my interruption. I had the king’s best interest at heart. Medey, I thank you for being the voice of reason,” Rayph said. “I will see myself to the door.”