Heart of the Empire (The Broken Lands Book 1)

by Carrie Summers

  “Well, I don’t care what my father says. The registrar was just doing her job.”

  He shook his head as if disappointed in my innocence. “Do you know what else happens if we let them pass? I’ve seen it a dozen times when Prov settlements displease the Empire. Rationing is not pleasant, Savra. And for something like this, Numintown may well be dissolved. You don’t want to know what happens in that case.”

  “Then I’ll—”

  He cut me off, slicing his hand through the air, then pointed to his ear. I cocked my head to listen.

  Hoofbeats.

  Chapter Nine

  Kostan

  Scion's bedchamber, Steelhold

  FLIPPING THE PILLOW to expose the cool side and punching it to fluff the goose down within, I rolled over. Again. Judging by the slant of moonlight through my bedroom’s barred window, midnight had come and gone. Maybe I’d get an hour or two of real sleep before the dawn bells sent the pigeons flapping past my window.

  I doubted I’d be so lucky.

  I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in the tenday since the Emperor summoned me. Every time I’d lain down, his words had echoed in my mind. The Empire would fall unless I Ascended. I must do whatever was necessary to keep the throne strong. The Bracer of Sight would show me the consequences of failure.

  Why would Emperor Tovmeil tell me these things? Only the shape of the scar on my foot could declare me Emperor, and that wouldn’t happen for two years. Was he hoping I’d gain the brutality necessary to Ascend? No matter the man I wished to become, I couldn’t change my soft heart.

  The nights after a girl came to change my bandage were the worst. For years, I’d told myself I’d forbid any more blindings if I rose to the throne. Now I couldn’t even be sure of that. After all, I’d never been bold enough to try to help one of the girls escape. Emperor Tovmeil had, but once he Ascended, he chose to continue sacrificing their sight for the greater good.

  A cloud skidded across the moon, plunging my bedroom into darkness. I rolled over again, jerking the covers to pull the wrinkles from them. My brand ached, which made me wonder if the lack of sleep was making my body weak, allowing an infection to take root. In a way, I wished for it. If my fate was to follow Emperor Tovmeil’s example and continue his brutal rule, maybe I deserved to suffer, too.

  When the door cracked open, admitting a vertical beam of lantern light, I jerked, heart racing. The guardians allowed no one to enter my bedroom at night.

  So stupid, I cursed myself. The Emperor had warned me the throne’s enemies were closing in. Yet here I lay wearing nothing but my underclothes, no weapon within reach.

  As a shadow slipped through the door on silent feet, shutting it without a sound, I held perfectly still. I kept my breath as even as I could manage. If the intruder believed me asleep, at least I kept an element of surprise. Martial training, including both bare-handed and weapons fighting, had been part of my daily schedule since I was five. Unlike my fumbling attempts at spirit armoring, I was a good fighter. Quick more than strong, but effective. My practice scimitar leaned against the far wall of the room, about four long strides away. The cutting edge was purposefully dulled, but it would be better than nothing.

  “You’re a fool to think I don’t know you’re awake. Get dressed,” the shadow hissed.

  I blinked. “What?” I whispered.

  Moments later, the moon escaped the cloud’s veil and once again lit the room, showing the intruder. He wore a dark cloak, the hood casting deep shadows over his face.

  After a moment, he snorted in disgust and tossed back the hood. Ilishian glared at me. “As I said, get dressed. Now.”

  I pushed aside the covers. “It would have been wiser to knock. I was preparing to slit your throat.”

  He huffed in annoyance. “A true assassin would’ve been upon you faster than you took to realize I’d opened your door. And that dull knife you call a scimitar might as well be in another province given where you stored it. From now on you’ll keep a weapon within reach.”

  I sighed, rubbing my eyes. “Are you going to explain what’s going on?”

  “Emperor Tovmeil is dead. We must get you to safety. Tonight.”

  I jerked upright, blinking away the haze. Occasionally over the last days, I’d imagined blades aimed at my back, eyes peering from the shadows. But I’d been focused on the notion that Emperor Tovmeil believed I must Ascend. Apparently, I hadn’t listened to him carefully enough. Tovmeil? Dead?

  “How? What happens now?” As far as I knew, an Emperor had never died before his successor's Ascension. We’d never been taught who would rule until the chosen Scion would take the throne.

  “Assassins aided by magic. That’s all I know. We can discuss it at length later. We must go. Emperor Tovmeil extracted a promise from me. If there were ever a threat, I would get you out of Steelhold. Nothing mattered to him more than that—in fact, he commanded me to choose your life over his if I were ever in the position.”

  I swung my legs off the bed. The stone floor was frigid against the bottom of my unbandaged foot. I ran my hand through my hair. “What about the other Scions?”

  “They don’t matter. Once you Ascend, ministers can be appointed from among the elite class if necessary. The Scions were expendable in the Emperor’s view.”

  Expendable. Vaness’s face sprang to my thoughts. I remembered the feel of her lips. Her laugh. Regardless of her words that day on patrol, I still believed we shared something the other Scions lacked.

  “Vaness is not expendable to me.” I hardened my jaw. ”I won’t leave her to the assassins.”

  Ilishian narrowed his eyes. I could almost hear his thoughts, his disgust at my inability to put the Empire first. A few days ago, I might have regretted showing the weakness of emotion. But now I was too tired to care about this ferro mage's opinion. Ilishian could judge me how he chose. He wouldn’t deny the Emperor’s last wish by abandoning me.

  “I’ll make you a bargain,” the mage said. “As soon as we are out of Steelhold, I’ll send my apprentice, Azar, to rescue Vaness. Just as the Emperor trusted my loyalty, I trust Azar.”

  I threw aside the covers and stood. “Fair. What do I need?”

  “Enough clothes to be comfortable in the night’s chill. We will work out further necessities once we have a clear picture of the situation. Now hurry, please.”

  I snatched my trousers from their puddle on the floor and yanked them over my underclothes, fastening them with a leather belt. With a quick glance at the practice scimitar, I discarded the idea of bringing it. As the ferro had said, I needed a real weapon close at hand, not some dull knife. From my trunk, I grabbed a simple linen tunic, lined leather jacket, and a wool hat. Finally, I pulled on my mismatched boots.

  With a nod, Ilishian scurried to the door. He cracked it and peered outside before motioning me forward. When I stepped into the hallway, I gasped. The guardian who’d been posted outside my door lay dead on the floor, tongue protruding, his face blue-black and mottled. I grimaced.

  “Was he part of the plot?” I whispered.

  The ferro mage shrugged, face blank. “I don’t know. The enemies’ faces were hidden from the Emperor. But I couldn’t take the chance.”

  “So you killed him… just to be safe?”

  Not even a flicker of regret crossed his face as he set off down the hall. “I suppose that’s one way to put it. Guardians are replaceable. The future Emperor is not.”

  The horror of his words pecked at me like a flock of crows. This man had died simply because Emperor Tovmeil had believed I must take the throne.

  I swallowed back my disgust and sidestepped around the corpse. No matter what the Emperor had claimed, I’d never become the kind of man he’d been.

  Chapter Ten

  Savra

  A thicket near the coastal road, Cosmal

  “STAY WITH THE horses,” Havialo hissed from the edge of the clearing. We’d dashed into hiding, and n
ow he was edging toward the road again. The sun was near the horizon, the red light of evening spilling like blood over the peninsula.

  I knew I should protest. But what about Numintown? Could I live with my choice if I let the registrar dissolve the settlement? Somehow, this was my fault. I just didn’t understand why.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “What if I talk to them? Convince them I'm not what they believe?”

  “If you expose yourself, you’ll be dead before they draw within thirty paces. The protectors carry poison-tipped crossbow bolts. They don’t take chances.”

  “My father wouldn’t want this,” I said. “He would find another way.” And if I was wrong about that, maybe I no longer wanted a reunion.

  Havialo’s jaw hardened. “We didn’t always agree on methods. But he would recognize our lack of options here.”

  The plume of dust from the approaching riders was now visible over the tops of the brush that surrounded us. Havialo glanced at the sky, raised a finger to feel the breeze again, and nodded. “I can bring the storm the rest of the way.” He paused and stared at me. “Savra, you can run if you won’t be part of this. But it won’t change what I have to do. If the registrars are not stopped, Numintown will suffer the consequences. The Empire doesn’t take chances. Even if you can’t stomach what must be done, I won’t have the death of every Numintowner on my head.”

  The words stunned me into silence.

  With a nod, he shoved into the thicket. “I’d appreciate it if you attempted to calm the horses, but I suppose you’ll make your own decisions.”

  As he disappeared into the foliage, the sun dropped behind the hill at our backs. Out to sea, the storm clouds billowed, gray and black with sheets of rain pouring out the undersides. A downdraft gusted up from the shore, rattling the brush and smelling of rain.

  Feeling helpless, I stepped to the horses and buried my face in my mount’s mane. The storm crept closer, thunder rumbling in its belly. With the wind howling, I couldn’t hear the hoofbeats of the approaching riders. But I knew they’d arrived when I heard a shout of panic.

  “Quicksand!”

  I cocked my head. Had I heard that right? After so long without rain, the road was an inch deep in dust. Beneath was nothing but hard packed earth and stone.

  “In the brush!”

  “… saddlebags!”

  The storm churned overhead now, blackening the sky and flattening the tops of the bushes with its violent breath. All desire to run fled me as I crouched down, the horses’ reins wrapped around my fist. Abruptly, the air felt too warm. The hairs on my forearms stood as tickling fingers brushed my forehead. I looked up and screamed—the horses’ manes were standing on end.

  With a flash and an earsplitting crack, a bolt of lightning lanced from the clouds, exploding in the road. The horses shrieked and reared, wrenching my shoulder as I frantically tried to unwind the lead from my hands.

  Another strike split the air, cracking as if inside my skull. I clapped my hands over my head, squeezed my ears with my forearms. Like a nerve struck with a hammer, jolts sped from my shoes up my body. Sparks leaped from the ground to the horses stomping feet. With a crash, the beasts were gone, tearing through the brush. From the road, I smelled cooking meat. A tense silence ballooned as sparks leaped across the spaces between my legs, from my chin to my knees, and across my eyelashes. I made myself smaller, whimpering, certain I had moments to live.

  Over the course of heartbeats, the sparks crackled and died. With a quiet soughing of wind through the brush, a final gust bore down on the area and faded away.

  Rain began to patter on bushes and leaves, frigid drops splattering on my head and hands.

  ***

  The moon had risen, the clouds long fled. I huddled in a ball, shivering in my wet clothing. The geognost hadn’t returned—I didn’t have to think hard to know what that meant. I knew I should move. I should verify that Havialo was dead, try to hunt down the horses. But I feared what I’d see on the road, and I was just so cold.

  So instead, I curled on my side, hugged my knees to my chest, and waited for dawn.

  Sometime later, a thump jerked me from my doze. My legs shot out and connected with a stand of brush, setting the leaves rattling. I made a fist, ready to defend myself.

  “I apologize,” Havialo said. “I lost consciousness. It occasionally happens when the source of power is difficult to control.”

  “I—” My jaw worked slowly, stiff from cold and confusion. “I thought you were dead.”

  “As I said, I apologize.”

  I rubbed a clammy hand over my face. “The registrar’s party?”

  “Do you really want the details?”

  I shook my head as I pushed up, planting a hand in the sodden grass. When the night air hit the newly-exposed side of my body, another shiver rattled my bones.

  Havialo plucked at my clothing before drying his hand on his cloak. “Ordinarily, I would’ve sent the rain away. But as I said…”

  “You were unconscious.”

  He pointed to a pile of saddlebags, no doubt the source of the thump which had wakened me. “The scroll tube will contain the ledger. It’s sealed with wax, so we’ll wait to check it until we near Jaliss. No need to expose it to the elements before then. I have contacts who can alter your entry before we present it to the Hall of Registry.”

  “What will you say when we do?”

  He cocked his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Doesn’t a registrar usually deliver the ledger?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. A smile? “You’re thinking ahead,” he said. “Good. Despite what the Empire would have you believe, lawlessness continues to plague the Provinces. It wouldn’t be surprising for a party from Jaliss to be set upon. We’ll tell them you escaped the bandits. I found you in the nearest town where you were waiting in hopes someone else survived.”

  I shivered, partly from cold, but mostly at the reminder of what the mage had done. No one in Cosmal Province loved the Empire. But killing an official representative of the regime along with her notary and protectors? No one would consider it. If I returned to Numintown now, I’d have to lie to people who’d known me since birth. They’d spot the dishonesty sooner or later. I dropped my head to my knees, wishing I’d fled before the storm began.

  “If I’d run while you…” I swallowed, searching for words. “While you stopped the registrar, what would you have done?”

  “I would’ve tried to track you once I regained consciousness. I promised your father, remember?”

  Havialo unfastened one of the saddlebag’s leather straps and opened the lid. Rummaging, he pulled out a coarse wool sweater and tossed it to me.

  “Exposure is dangerous, even this far south. Worse once we get on the mainland. If there were any dry wood about, I’d risk a fire despite our need to move quickly. You must let me know if you start to feel unnaturally warm. It’s the first sign your body has grown too cold and is sliding toward death.”

  The words set me shivering again—I’d never heard of someone dying from the cold. I opened and closed my hands, working the stiffness from my fingers before sliding the sweater over my head and arms. The woolen garment smelled of a man’s sweat. Immediately, my shivering slowed.

  “There’s little point in trying to recover the horses,” Havialo said.

  “I tried to keep a grasp on the reins. Sorry.”

  “And I tried to strike with a greater measure of control. We both did our best. In any case, we’ll need to make more progress tonight,” Havialo said. “I apologize for that—I realize you’ve been through a lot today.”

  “I don’t want to be here anymore, anyway.” Now that I was sitting upright, the smell of roasted meat once again reached my nose. I couldn’t bear to think about what lay on the road.

  “We’ll hurry for the Cosmal Crease. Two nights of hard marching by my guess. We’ll take what we need from the saddlebags, and once we re
ach Dukket Waystation, I have a friend who can help us resupply.”

  “Master Havialo?” I asked. “Would they really have killed me?”

  “Call me Havialo,” he said. “And yes. From this day forward, if anyone loyal to the Empire figures out who and what you are, they won’t think twice about putting an arrow through your heart.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Kostan

  Steelhold grounds

  ILISHIAN LED THE way across the fortress grounds, a shadow slipping along the edge of buildings. Overhead, the stars were faint presences behind the silvery moon. Chill air cut through my trousers and stung my cheeks. By midday, Steelhold’s open grounds would be as uncomfortably hot as the night was cold—it often felt as if the very air hated the presence of the Hold, trying day and night to force us from our perch.

  As I crept along behind the ferro mage, I imagined assassins’ eyes on me, their blades blackened so as not to reflect the moonlight. An arrow could take me at any moment. I jumped, startled, when a rat scurried out from under my feet.

  Near the rear wall of the Hall of Mages where a narrow aisle separated the building from the outer walls, Ilishian stopped.

  “You’re sure he’s dead?” I asked, realizing I should have asked sooner.

  “Certain.” The man looked over my shoulder and nodded at someone. I turned to see another mage approaching, her light-colored robes marking her as a recent apprentice to the ferro order.

  “Good,” Ilishian said. “I appreciate your haste, Azar.”

  Azar was winded from her swift approach. “It’s happened then?”

  Her mentor nodded. “The wards were tripped. His stone went dark. Tovmeil is dead.”

  Azar gestured toward me. “We proceed then? Out the Chasm Gate?”

  Under other circumstances, I might have been more distracted by the young mage’s attractive features. She had high cheekbones and curves that not even an apprentice robe and a moonlit night could hide. As I pulled my eyes from her, she handed a pair of nondescript cloaks to Ilishian and me before donning her own.