“And you?”
“I used to daydream about doing something different. I don’t know if I would have, though.”
The mage nodded. “What about the protectors? What do you think of them?”
I shrugged. “They pretty much leave us alone.” I shuddered at the memory of the protector’s fist slamming my jaw. The joint still ached when I ate. “Thankfully,” I added.
“But you would prefer to have the freedom to choose your destiny, right?”
“Yeah, sure. No one likes the Empire dictating our fates.” I turned to look at him. “Are you asking whether I plan to join my father’s cause? Become a Sharder? That’s what he wants, right?”
A melancholy smile touched his lips. “The thing is, Savra, Stormshard has no idea what to do with you. How to use you. Your father’s cause is doomed. He abandoned his family and has led dozens of men and women to imprisonment or death for a fight he’ll never win.”
I hadn’t seen my father in seven years. I couldn’t explain the rush of anger when the mage criticized him. But it was there all the same, heating my cheeks and making me dig my fingernails into my palms. “I’m sure he’d disagree.”
Havialo inclined his head in agreement. “That he would.” He turned away from me, staring at the distant horizon. Somewhere out there, not yet visible, the great snowy crest of the Icethorn Mountains rose up from the plateau. The capital, Jaliss, sheltered beneath their slopes. I tried to imagine what they’d look like, but couldn’t quite form a picture, having never seen true mountains before.
“You said father would find a way to train me in spiritism.”
The mage’s jaw worked as he considered his words. “Yes, I think he will. But I’d like to propose a different arrangement. Please hear me out.”
Something in his tone made my belly squirm. “Okay...” I said.
“I’ve already told you why I left Stormshard. I couldn’t handle the failures. Not just the executions I forced myself to witness, but the bumbling maneuvers, too. The movement has so much desire and so little direction. I’d even call them incompetent.”
Once again I bristled for the father I lost long ago. Taking a deep breath, I held my tongue. I’d promised to hear him out. And maybe his criticism was valid.
“I gave you the wrong impression about something. When I left Stormshard, I didn’t retire from the fight. I simply moved on to a more effective position.”
My spine stiffened. After the information he'd withheld before, I shouldn’t have been surprised.
“I apologize—again—for not being forthright,” he said. “My secrecy is a bad habit, ingrained after years of working against the Empire. The stakes are so high.”
I pressed my lips together. I’d promised myself I’d let him finish before passing judgment. “So there’s another renegade group?”
He tapped a finger on his saddle’s pommel. “I suppose you could call it that. It’s a different type of game than Stormshard plays. Higher stakes. The players are... quite powerful. And the objectives rather ambitious. We could use your talents.”
“I’m not even sure I want to fight against the Empire. Maybe a scribe’s life will suit me. Or maybe I’ll convince my father to send me to the sanctuary with Avill and Mother.”
A flash of something—anger?—crossed his face. “I’ll admit it astounds me that a Prov could grow up under the Emperor’s oppression and not want to fight back. Especially when handed the opportunity. After all, my daughter...”
He blinked a few times, then looked away. “Sorry,” he said after a moment, voice rough. “Sometimes my emotions gain too much hold.”
I took a deep breath. “I understand. But I’m not ready to decide anything. A couple weeks ago, I didn’t even know if my father was still alive. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him and understand why he made the choices he did.”
Havialo kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “We’ll continue as planned, then. Please forget I mentioned anything.”
Unsure what to do, I leaned forward and waved the flies away from Breeze’s ears. The silence seemed to flow from the mage, an uncomfortable quiet that gave the sense I’d done something wrong. I just wasn’t sure what.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kostan
Stormshard refuge, Icethorn Mountains
“YOU’LL RIDE WITH Falla and me today,” Evrain said, handing over a bowl of porridge.
Having escaped my deathbed—for now—I'd lost my bunk in the privacy of the cavern’s back room. Evrain had retaken that honor, leaving me to find an open bed in the main chamber. The best spots had already been claimed; overnight, I’d curled up on a set of grain sacks, using a canvas tarp as a blanket. It had been years since I'd slept with anyone else in the room, and I’d expected a restless night. But I scarcely remembered laying my head down.
“Ride where?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my face. “I’m not much of a horseman.” I’d had a few lessons in the narrow alleys of Steelhold, but the confines hadn’t given the animals room to work through their gaits. In the months before Ascension, the Scions customarily rode out the Chasm Gate to begin a tour of the Empire. Because the Emperor lived a sequestered life, it was the only time he or she would see the land. But for now, my skills were limited to mounting without falling off and basic signaling of the horse.
“It doesn’t matter so much where as why,” Evrain said. “I’d like a chance to talk to you where you might feel less... watched.” He gestured with his chin toward the other members of Stormshard who looked over maps, repaired equipment, ate breakfast—and stared at me. “But if you’re curious, I make a circuit of the surrounding area every few days. An effective operation begins with a secure home territory.”
My foot throbbed—Falla had cleaned the wound before I slept, but the ache was a reminder of the sickness that festered inside my flesh. I grimaced before yawning. “I don’t think I’m recovered enough for a long ride.”
Evrain glanced over my shoulder where Falla huddled with another woman. “Falla would have me whipped if I caused you to relapse after she and the healer worked so hard to beat the infection back. We won’t be gone more than an hour or two.”
The porridge was thickening as it cooled. Evrain glanced at it. “Best you eat quickly. It’s rather disgusting otherwise.”
As I spooned the glop into my mouth, I watched the mountain insects, lit by the morning sun, buzz outside the entrance. They looked like swirling sparks.
Yesterday, I’d still been dazed by my illness. But I needed to have my wits about me now. As forthright as these Stormsharders might seem, they were sworn enemies of the Empire. In many ways, I represented everything they hated, so I needed to choose my words carefully. Evrain and Falla had allowed me time to prove myself, but the others might be waiting for an opportunity to put a dagger through me.
Even if I convinced the Sharders I was a friend—and perhaps I still needed to answer that question for myself—I couldn’t remain here. I needed to get to the Graybranch Inn and learn what had happened to Azar and Vaness. With Ilishian dead, Azar was the only person I could trust. If I still wished to Ascend and save the Empire from destruction, I needed her help.
But how would I get to Jaliss? Aside from my immediate problem of convincing Evrain to spare my life, I couldn’t walk. Surely, the Sharders wouldn’t deliver me—and my knowledge of their mountain hideout—to Jaliss. And if I tried to go alone, the infection would finish me before I reached the capital.
The moment I set my bowl aside, Evrain strolled over with a boot for my unbranded foot and a fur mitt to slip over the other. He knelt on the floor and scooted over a small trunk filled with healing supplies.
When I realized the Stormshard leader intended to care for my foot like a common servant, my cheeks went hot. He must have expected the reaction because he looked up and smirked.
“I mentioned earlier that Stormshard’s philosophy doesn’t include a hierarchy. No member
is more important than another, though the opinion of experienced Sharders often carries more weight. The people here listen to me because I’ve been with Stormshard for many years. Even if we never unseat the Emperor, not one of us lives under another person’s edicts. In that way, we’ve already won.”
My eyes flicked to the private back room where he’d slept sheltered from the snores of his fellow Sharders. He noticed the direction of my gaze and nodded. “It’s my turn is all. Before we dragged you in, Falla had the bed.”
I couldn’t help feeling shame over my helplessness as he unwound the bandage from my foot. The inner layers of the bandage stuck to my skin where seeping blood and pus had infiltrated the linen overnight. I dug my fingers into the grain sacks beneath me to keep from grunting in pain as Evrain pulled them away.
He inspected the wound, fingers gentle as he probed the edges. His face was set in something that might have been anger. On my behalf? Or was he thinking of the centuries-long line of emperors who had dominated the land, relying on cruelty and fear to keep their subjects loyal?
“From the moment I understood my destiny, I’ve wished I’d been born under other stars. On a different night to a different family.” I wasn’t sure where the words came from, only that I had suddenly felt it important that he knew.
Evrain placed a wad of cotton over the mouth of a flask, tipping it up to soak the white fluff. He dabbed the edges of the brand, working from the outside in and looking up to gauge my reaction. I inhaled at the sting but nodded to let him know I could tolerate it.
“I’m not surprised,” he said as he lowered my heel to the ground. “I can’t imagine the burden. Outside the walls of Steelhold, we know little of the lives of the Scions. I’m sure it’s not a free existence. Nonetheless, your upbringing must have given you some desire to take the throne.”
He asked the question casually, as if simply wishing to keep the conversation flowing. But I heard the restrained tension in his voice. By bringing me here, Stormshard had invited the enemy into their home. He must be desperate to know my true feelings.
It seemed unreal, but I trusted that Emperor Tovmeil had believed the vision given by his bracer. Considering the danger to everyone in the Empire, wasn’t I obligated to try to Ascend? I could try to explain my whole story to him, but I feared I’d reveal too much. My thoughts whirled.
“You’re conflicted,” Evrain said. “Falla told me as much.” He once again lifted my foot, rotating my leg so that more light from the door fell on the wound. “Storms, but I wish we knew what they did to keep the infection at bay. At best, it seems we can keep you from dying. But we certainly can’t help you walk again.”
“There was a rosewater bath and some type of salve,” I said, hoping to avoid the subject of my feelings for the Empire.
The corner of his mouth turned up at my avoidance of the topic. “Well, perhaps we’ll try the rosewater and hope we get good information in the city.”
As he started wrapping a fresh bandage around my foot, a woman burst through the door. Evrain jumped to his feet, gesturing at one of the other Sharders, a wiry man, to finish the bandage.
“Evrain,” the woman said, nodding her head in greeting. She was breathing hard, and sweat pasted delicate hairs to her neck. She wore simple linen garb dyed in dark blues and grays and had a satchel’s strap crossing her chest one way, a longbow and quiver strap crossing the other. Her eyes were as wide as the sky and easily as beautiful.
“Good morning, Kei. Every time I think you’ll never best your time to ride to Jaliss and back, you quickly prove me wrong.”
The flash of pride on her face was replaced by a somber expression. “But I rarely return with such troubling news. The Chasm Span has collapsed, Evrain. It’s gone.”
Around the cavern, Sharders abandoned their tasks and turned to listen. The man working on my foot dropped the roll of bandage onto the floor and strolled over.
“How?” Evrain asked.
Kei shrugged. “No one seems to know. It’s been six days. Steelhold is locked down. No one in or out, and there have been no statements from the throne.”
Evrain’s gaze shot to me. I suspected he was adding up the days of my convalescence with the time it took to walk from the Chasm Gate to the place they’d found me. After a moment, he fixed a glare on the man who’d abandoned work on my bandage. Startled by the reminder, the man hurried back to my side.
“Bind it securely,” Evrain said before turning his attention to the new arrival. “Kei, I appreciate the time you’ve just spent on horseback and regret asking you to mount up again so soon. But please take a few minutes rest and prepare for a patrol. We have much to discuss with the Scion.”
***
The sun was warm on my back and shoulders, but I couldn’t enjoy the feeling. I wasn’t a very good rider to begin with, and with just one foot in the stirrup, the other leg loosely bound to the girth strap to keep me from falling off, I sat lopsidedly in the saddle. Every step the horse made jarred my tailbone and spine.
But the real problem was Falla riding behind me. I could feel her eyes on my back. Worse, I could imagine her peering into my head. I wasn’t sure what, exactly, a spiritist was, but her abilities seemed to resemble an argent mage’s. I had to assume she’d know if I was lying. And I knew that Evrain would soon ask some pointed questions.
Ahead of me, Evrain and Kei rode side by side. Evrain led my horse rather than allowing me to guide the animal. Just as well. It took most of my concentration to stay balanced in the saddle. And I was so very tired.
A tremor, another of the small quakes that had been rattling the area, rumbled in the depths of the mountain, setting its skin shivering. A few rocks tumbled down the slope ahead, landing in a stand of low evergreen brush in the narrow valley below. I couldn’t help tensing. The trail we followed could hardly live up to the name. Only slightly more level than the slope above and below, it traversed up and over the flank of the mountain, sometimes crossing areas of sparse grass, sometimes winding through fields of scree and boulders. On the horizon line, a tower of rocky rubble blocked the view around the corner. On its summit, a pair of mountain goats capered.
“The Chasm Span... gone... I find it hard to believe,” Evrain said.
“Not a stone left,” Kei said, her voice clear in the mountain air. “At first I thought I was mistaken. Fatigued from the hard ride.”
“So, Kostan,” Evrain called over his shoulder. “Did you know of this?”
Once again, I jerked in surprise at hearing him address me without a title. The only other person who’d regularly called me by my first name alone had been Vaness.
“I—yes. I... well, I was crossing it when it started to collapse.” I cringed at the memory of stone blocks giving way beneath my feet.
Kei turned and arched an eyebrow. Now that she’d relaxed from her headlong ride, her face had settled into a content and confident expression. She didn’t look much older than me, but the ease with which she seemed to move through the world was captivating.
“I’m sure that was startling,” she said.
“That would be one way to put it.”
“Whatever you two do,” Falla said, leaning around me to speak to her fellow Sharders, “don’t ask if he screamed like a frightened child. I’ll know if he lies.”
Evrain laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
When I turned to look at Falla, she winked.
“As a matter of fact, I did not,” I said, glad for the distraction. The more I could steer the conversation away from the events inside Steelhold the better.
The trail reached a small, level area of exposed rock where a path led onto the fin of broken stone that had blocked the view earlier. I imagined the little spire gave an expansive vantage of the surrounding valleys and slopes, a good point from which to inspect the terrain. Evrain nudged his mount into a tight turn, the horse's feet clopping against the smooth granite. As he did, another small quake growled
in the mountain’s heart, a reminder of the Breaking and the danger it posed to the Empire.
A stirring of fear in my stomach answered the mountain’s rumble. If I didn’t find a way back to Jaliss, the tremors would get much worse.
“Kostan,” Evrain said, face now quite serious. “Make no mistake. I like you. But I will kill you if we don’t get what we need from you. Why didn’t you mention the Chasm Span?”
I knew Falla was watching every word. I couldn’t outright lie. “Well, to start, I’m afraid that once I tell you everything you want to know, you won’t have a use for me.”
He seemed to consider this, the stark mountain sun deepening the shadows in the crow’s feet around his eyes. “That’s a fair point. So allow me to restate my position. I don’t wish to kill you. And you are worth far more than the information you might share. A future ally with ties to Steelhold would be a major benefit to us. However, you will have to prove that allegiance. Perhaps you could start by speaking more freely.”
I shifted in the saddle, trying to take more weight off my injured leg. There seemed little I could do to avoid saying more. “Some time ago, probably close to twenty days now, the Emperor summoned me. I’d never spoken to him before nor seen him at a distance closer than one hundred paces. He told me there was a grave danger to the throne and the Ascension. I believe those enemies were the same which caused Ferromaster Ilishian to wake me in the dark of night with word that I must flee. But since Ilishian fell to his death when the Chasm Span collapsed, I know little about the extent of the threat.”
A considering look fell over the Stormshard leader’s face. His eyes flicked to Falla, and after a moment, he nodded. “My spiritist believes you, which is the best proof I’ll likely receive.”
I kept my back straight, careful not to let my relief show. If questioned directly about the Emperor’s death, I might be able to deny knowledge—after all, I hadn’t seen the body. But I didn’t wish to test that, and my instincts told me I needed to keep the information to myself.
Heart of the Empire (The Broken Lands Book 1) Page 13
