Fury Lingers: Book One of The Foreseen Trilogy

by Ethan Spears

  The wind was still blowing fiercely, assaulting his face and freezing the snot in his nose. Worse, it was picking up the flames, sending sparks and embers to nearby buildings. Four buildings were on fire by the time he left the square, running to the northeast.

  No one else tried to stop him. Now armed and recklessly swinging his blade at anyone who came near, Aoden was left a clear path to the forest. He dived into the thick of it and was already halfway free.

  The next hour was a blur of trees and snow. He continued on at full tilt, laughing hysterically and waving the hammer over his head. He couldn’t believe he was alive. He couldn’t believe he had gotten what he had come for. He couldn’t believe how damn heavy Senmozar was. It wasn’t until he came to a hill and tried to run up the entire slope that he finally felt his fatigue. At the top, he stopped to catch his breath and looked back at the human town.

  A massive plume of smoke was rising a half-dozen stretches away. It looked like half the town was going up in flames. There were hundreds if not thousands of humans that were going to be affected by this, made homeless in the middle of a bitter winter, but all he could think about was that horrible failed Triarch and hoped that her home caught fire as well.

  Then he remembered that Madeleine had been told to stay in her home for the rest of the night and hoped it didn’t.

  He continued northeast until the sun rose, an ominous reminder that he should now have a noose around his neck. Instead, he had his sword, a bundle of blankets, and two legendary artifacts from the same goddess, an arguably better scenario. He would use his elven training to evade the humans and make it back to the lizardman enclave, of that he had no doubt. Whatever plan this hammer was for, it was one step closer to completion.

  And if Ezma knew what she was talking about, the Second Fury was one step closer to never being born.

  Epilogue

  David Lowe found Mira on hands and knees in what was once the audience chamber of her great hall, now nothing but ashes. It had taken years to put together, months of planning, hundreds of workers, and now the walls, the roof, even the throne, were all gone. But to her, none of those things mattered compared to Senmozar.

  Her face and hands covered in ash, her dress torn and filthy, she sifted through the rubble, some of it still warm despite the bitter winter winds raging on all sides, searching for Senmozar. David knew better than to speak, recognizing that hysteric look in her eyes as she pushed aside fallen beams and burnt chunks of wall and flooring. For all the love they once shared, it was nothing compared to her love of that hammer and the man who once wielded it.

  “He took it!” She called out to the sky. “That filthy, long-eared criminal! How dare he? How dare he lay hands on Senmozar? He’s not even worthy enough to see it, and now he has his murderous elf hands all over it. If I find him, I’ll have his innards festooned about my house!”

  David stood in silence as Mira ranted, flailing her arms in seething anger and hatred, shouting things utterly unfit for a lady of her standing to utter. She slammed her fists and feet into the debris, sending up clouds of soot and embers. Her hands and feet were bloody before her anger was quelled enough for her to notice David.

  “Husband!” she shouted. “Do the gods not think we’ve suffered enough? Was tearing down my kingdom not punishment enough? Why have they seen fit to take what little we’ve built here as well?”

  Her husband shook his head. “I don’t know. If they were seeking to chastise us, they must know they’ve done more than what is fair.”

  “And on today of all days,” she said. “On the anniversary of the start of the Fury. And a Fireday, no less. Their humor is sick beyond compare.”

  The sound of boots tramping through the ash announced the arrival of a guard. In each hand was the arm of a struggling child. The guard brought them before David, pointedly not noticing Mira so he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the disgraceful state of the Lady. “Sir, these two say they know who let the elf free,” he told the Master of Law.

  “What?!” said Mira, shooting upright.

  “No, we don’t,” shouted Jon, kicking at the guard. “Let us go.”

  “Yeah we do,” said Arin. “She was visiting the elf at night when everyone else was asleep. She thought no one knew, but we knew. We were even there once.”

  “Shut up, Arin,” Jon said, trying to kick his younger brother. “You’re going to get her in trouble.”

  “‘Her?’” said Mira, running over to the boys. “‘Her’ who? Who is she?” She thrust her fist into her palm. “It was that gods-damned Gale girl, isn’t it? I knew her and her pansy, bleeding-heart friends were nothing but troublemakers and traitors. I should have them all strung up!”

  “What? No!” Arin cried out. “It wasn’t Gale. It was—ow!” Jon kicked Arin as hard as he could in the leg. The guard pushed them apart, bringing the boys out of reach of one another.

  “Don’t say anything, Arin!” Jon said.

  “Shut up, Jonny,” Mira snapped. She turned to Arin. “Tell me, honey. Who was it? Who let that evil elf go? We’ll make sure they get what’s coming to them and hang them until they die.” Arin’s face turned a deathly white.

  “Gods, Mira,” said David, “he’s just a boy. Don’t tell him such things. You’re frightening him.”

  “Arin wants justice, doesn’t he?” she said, more to the boy than her husband. Arin looked over at Jon, who shook his head frantically. The young boy closed his mouth firmly.

  “That’s right. Don’t say anything,” Jon said.

  Mira turned and gave Jon a vicious slap, what vestige of motherly affection in her face and voice gone. “You shut your mouth, you little traitor!” she spat. “Eighteen people died in that fire, and dozens more will freeze before this winter is over. The woman who let the elf go is as deserving of death as he is. And if you know who did it and don’t say anything, you’ll be just as guilty.”

  “Mira!” said David, pulling her from the children by the arm. “That’s enough! You can’t go striking and threatening children.”

  She pushed him away. “It’s no threat. It’s a promise.” She pulled Arin towards her. “Tell me who did it or I’ll hang you as well, you little bastard!”

  Arin immediately burst into tears, beating at her hand with his little fists. “Jon, help! Get her off me!”

  “Lay off him!” Jon yelled, struggling against the guard’s grip.

  “And your brother as well,” Mira added. She looked at the guard. “Go get their father.”

  The guard appeared distressed at the order, looking to the Master of Law for some instruction. David sighed inwardly. While within her powers to hang the boys, it was a case where the power should not be exercised and a true leader would show restraint. It was times like these that made Lowe’s love for Mira melt away. He didn’t know if it was damage from the loss of her kingdom or the loss of Lord Zeion, but when one of these abuses of power reared its ugly head, he knew there was no reasoning with her. There was no doubt these boys would hang if they didn’t speak.

  Whether his love for Mira had ever been genuine or was merely passion fueled by the terror and excitement of their flight from Azurcourt, he might never know. Had Marks, Forrest, or Hoyer been leading the escape that day and survived, maybe she would have married them instead, then they would have to deal with Mira when she got like this. But that hadn’t happened, and it was his job now to step up and help these boys.

  “Belay that order,” he said to the guard. He turned to Mira. “Let me speak with the boys. I’ll get them to tell me everything, I promise.”

  Mira nodded, crossing her arms and waiting. She was already impatient and would not give David a lot of time.

  He kneeled between the two boys and lowered his voice. “Boys, you need to tell us everything you know and quickly.”

  Arin was still crying, unable to speak, but Jon said, “Lady Mira’s going to hurt her.”

  “But she’ll hurt you, too. It’s admirable that you want to protect
someone with your silence, but they’ve done wrong and you haven’t. It isn’t proper for you to be punished in their place, and believe me, the Lady Mira will punish you if you don’t speak.”

  “She can’t! She needs to give us a trial like she did with the elf.”

  “She can and will. Understand this if nothing else, boys: Mira is outside the power of our laws. As a Triarch, she answers only to the other Triarchs, and no one here has seen fit to annul those traditions. With Hemel and Eckel dead, there is no one to challenge her authority. That means you boys have two choices: you either tell me everything you know now”—he placed a comforting hand on each of their shoulders—“or there’s nothing I can do to save you from the rope. Do you understand?”

  Jon looked terrified. “If I tell you, will you stop Lady Mira from hurting her?”

  Lowe sighed, unable to bring himself to lie to the children. “I’ll do what I can, but right now I’m more concerned with protecting you, so help me do that. Tell me her name.”

  Jon looked at Arin, but if he expected any advice or reassurance, all he saw was his bawling baby brother. Lowering his head, he finally muttered, “It was Madelaine.”

  Lowe’s eye twitched briefly, but he otherwise kept his composure. “Is that true?” he asked Arin. The boy wiped tears and snot from his face and nodded. “Thank you, boys.” To the guard, he said, “Take them home immediately. And for the love of Annowyn, hurry.” The guard dragged the boys off, looking ashamed to have had any part in what had just occurred.

  Lowe walked back over to his wife, who waited for him expectantly. “Well?” she asked. “Did they tell you?”

  He nodded. “Well, it’s, erm… Now, you’re going to have to promise not to overreact.”

  “I will promise nothing,” she said coldly. “Tell me the name.”

  “Erm, right. The boys say it’s Madelaine.” While Mira was paralyzed with what was surely rage, he added, “You’re not hanging our daughter, Mira.”

  She exploded at him. “Don’t you tell me what I can and can’t do!”

  David raised himself up, stepping toward his wife with anger clear on his face. “You are not hanging our daughter, Mira! Why do I even have to say this? I don’t care what damn office you hold; you touch my daughter with any intention of hurting her and I will be forced to defend her.”

  Mira stood defiantly for a moment, then shrank under his gaze. “I’m not going to hurt our daughter, David. Gods, what would possess you to think I would? I would never.”

  “I wish I could say that with as much confidence,” he said coolly. She simmered but said nothing else on the subject, instead looking around once more at the burned-down courthouse. David was relieved that his wife had backed down, but that still left a quarter of a burned city to worry about and thousands of homeless people. “So, now we need to handle all this. What are we to do, Mira?”

  The heat within her rose again, now redirected. “I’ll tell you what we won’t do, David: sit idly by while we get trampled time and time again by those who think us easy pickings. We’ve been beaten and battered and still they come for our homes, using our own children against us.”

  “Alright. So, what does that mean for us?”

  “It means we go to war.”

  “Erm, what?” Her husband looked around at the cinders. “Winter Ridge has just taken some serious damage, Mira. We couldn’t wage a war at our best, much less now when we need to rebuild. And in the middle of winter, no less.”

  Mira turned on him. “I’m not waiting for another disaster to come to us, David. We take everyone and march up through the lizardfolk and wipe them out, then on to the elves. We’re retrieving Senmozar and taking our kingdom back while we’re at it. Those who can’t fight can stay behind in the cities we conquer. Every problem solved.”

  “Except for the problem of provisioning and commanding an army. And why are we wiping out the lizardfolk? They let us through the isthmus and have left us alone.”

  “Because they let the elf through and pointed him in our direction. How else could he have found us? We should have known better than to trust those belly-crawling savages. We’ll punish them first, then move out into Nilriel proper once more. We’ve been cornered here for far too long. It’s about time we retake our rightful place.”

  David shook his head. “We’re not doing this. I won’t be fighting and I won’t be leading. Mira, for Annowyn’s sake, we’re in no condition to play the part of the conquerors. We’ve been whipped, and there’s no nice way to say it. Go home and sleep this nonsense off, and when you’re rested, come join me at the Laborer’s Hall where I’m sure I’ll be coordinating relief and reconstruction over the next few weeks.”

  “David—”

  “I’m not hearing any more of this. I will see you this afternoon.” David stomped off, leaving Mira alone in the wreckage.

  Mira picked her way out of the char, trying to avoid any more damage to her already ruined dress. She walked through the central square where dozens were milling about, weeping over their burned homes and trying to console one another. Mira stood away from the crowd and waved a group of guards over, who rushed to their Lady’s side.

  She pointed at one. “Get Hoyer, Houston, Laurence, Flagg, and Donaldson. I require their presence at my home at noon. Tell them we prepare for war.” The guard saluted and ran off. She indicated four more guards and said, “Find my daughter and my husband. Lock them both up in the jailhouse, if it still stands. If not, find somewhere secure to keep them. They are not to be let out until I return.” The guards looked at one another, but likewise saluted and left. To the last of the guards, she said, “I need every man and woman who can hold a weapon to be gathered together in this square at supper tomorrow, no exceptions. Anyone who refuses our call to war is to be locked up. Get to it.”

  With the last of her guards gone, she looked out over the milling crowd. Some watched her cautiously, aware something was wrong beyond just the fire, but most were too concerned with their own affairs. Finished with her orders and not in the mood for company, Mira made her way back through the collapsed courthouse. She picked her way over to where Senmozar’s room had been, poking through the fallen wood as the wind died down.

  She picked for hours alone until the smoke finally thinned enough for her to see clearly, her eyes stinging from her time exposed to it. She struggled to move a large lumber beam, managing to shift it over a hand, and finally found something that made her digging worth the time: a scrap of fuchsia-colored cloth, its edges burnt, the last remnants of Senmozar’s cushion. She clawed through the wreckage until it was free, clutching it to her chest.

  “Addy,” she whispered prayer-like as she cradled the cloth. “I’ll get you back. I’ll get it all back. Everything that was ours will be ours again, I promise, even if I have to burn everything that stands in the way myself.”