Horizon (In the Absence of Kings Book 3)

by Lee LaCroix

  “We want to rent! Is it still for sale!” Karon shouted.

  “Okay! Wait there!” the man yelled and disappeared behind the cloth of the window.

  The landlord made his way out of his home and came to meet with the caravan and speak with Ayden and Karon. There was an exchange of coin and hands, and the landlord unlocked the building, letting the travelers inside. The landing opened up to a long common room on the left and an open kitchen on the right. At the end of the common room, there was a hallway that led to three rooms and a stairway to the upper floor. The first floor rooms were quickly claimed, and Kayten and Ilsa made their way to the second floor where they claimed the first room on the right. It had a large window in the middle of the far wall with a table below it for two. The table separated the two beds, which also came with bedside stands. There was also a red rug on the ground with brown tassels and a black triangle pattern.

  The last dim light of sundown shone through the window when Ayden came to call the two women to dinner. Ayden had personally gone to the market himself and had purchased a large pot to make gumbos and stews to feed all of them. Tonight, they were having rabbit stew with potatoes, onions, and peppers. The stew simmered until the potatoes boiled to mush, giving the stew a much desired thickness, and fell into each bowl with a gentle plop as it was spooned out. Only the luckiest were sat on the four chairs in the common room, and others brought their own chairs from their rooms to sit on. They lit the furnace in the common room and ate quietly, for many were tired from conversing or traveling most of the day.

  “So, where do we start?” Ayden asked, looking around at each of them.

  “Kayten and I will make ourselves familiar with the streets first thing tomorrow. We’ll be able to rout out where the Vandari are operating out of without difficulty,” Ilsa explained.

  “I have a friend in the market who should be able to point us in the right direction. He works late so I should be able to find him now. I will be back soon,” Karon told them.

  They all agreed, and Karon made his way out the front door. The rest of them finished up their stew and were sated, for they slouched into their chairs and unleashed deep sighs. Ilsa helped Ayden collect all the dishes and wash them over the sink while the rest of Ayden’s followers sat around the fireplace.

  “Lady friend of Ayden… Kayten was it? This sword that hangs to your side, it shines just like the dust from the refinery. I have never seen a weapon like that. What is it?” one of them asked.

  “Indeed. It is made from the same ore that were plentiful at the Bloodsands. I made it this morning before from an ample amount of bloodfire ore and two Vandarian blades,” Kayten began.

  “Like bloodfire ore itself, the sword possesses some incredible qualities,” Kayten continued before she picked up the metal spoon from beside the stew pot and ran it across blade’s edge.

  The men jumped in their seats, shocked out of their sedation, as a shot of flame spun off the blade and landed in the pyre, rekindling the fire to its peak. They sat wide-eyed as Kayten belted her weapon and took a seat again.

  “As I have yet to test its strength in battle, I am hesitant to give it an ill-fitting moniker. However, the time will soon come, and the legend of this fearsome blade will be borne,” Kayten continued, pleasing herself to think that she wielded a sword to rival Darkbreaker or Dawnbringer.

  Kayten watched from her seat as a silhouette of a man rested upon the front window. His form was cut from the door side torchlight that lay upon the window cloth. She relaxed in her chair, thinking of Karon’s return, but hardly noticed when a second, a third, and more figures arrived until the entire window was pitch black. As the door was smashed into splinters behind them, the Kal’reth scrambled off their seats, fell onto their faces, and knocked the cook pot over. Kayten drew her blade, its length igniting as it grinded past the loop on her belt, and held it in front of her as her allies dashed behind her. In a single motion, Ilsa leapt over the kitchen counter and withdrew her blades.

  The sword’s fire was hot while Kayten held it outstretched in front of her; the heat was a curse she would have to learn to live with. With her shield held before her, Kayten watched as the first five Vandarian spearmen marched shoulder to shoulder. With two spears pointed at Ilsa and three at Kayten, the Vandari moved forward to begin their attack. As Kayten lunged at the soldiers, the longer length of her new sword touched to the tips of their spears without weakening her guard. As the Vandari piled in behind, the first row of them poked and prodded for any weakness. Finally, Kayten had had enough. She brought the sword from up high into a swift sideways slash, extinguishing the blade as the hot flames shot off of it. The licks of fire landed on the soldiers, melting their leathers and igniting their cloth in a moment’s notice. The first three attackers in front of Kayten buckled from the heated assault, and she moved in to strike.

  Ilsa waited for the split second that Kayten’s showy display had caught the attention of the Vandari in front of her, and then she made her move. She leapt, sailed past the spearhead, and landed square on the length one of the spears. Dumbfounded, the Vandarian was pulled forward with his falling spear into Ilsa’s waiting blades. By the time she had rolled over the back of the first Vandarian, Ilsa was already past the spearhead of the second. With a quick spin, she twirled with her daggers facing outwards. Ilsa planted her feet and held her daggers outstretched as the second soldier spun away before the other Vandari moved into strike.

  “Ilsa, Kayten! This way!” Ayden screamed from the end of the hallway.

  They had a quick look back to see the boy wave them towards the back window where the rest of his comrades were escaping. The two women looked at each other and charged the next wave of Vandari forcing their way through the door.

  Kayten’s sword was glowing red as it continued to smash and deflect against her enemy’s weapons like a blade fresh from the forge. She found the less idle she kept the blade, the less she noticed the radiating heat, so she attacked unending. The sword and shield Vandari arrived to the close quarters of the common room brawl, and Kayten lashed out with a strong overhead swing. Instead of ricocheting off the shield’s edge as usual, Kayten’s blade found its mark in a notch. As she put her weight upon it, her blade began to sink into the depth of the shield. Alarmed by the sudden ineffectiveness of the shield, the Vandarian tried to shake the deepening sword from Kayten’s grip, but she was too determined. She kicked at the shield, withdrew her sword from it, and stepped back in to deliver another overhead blow. This time, the sword met no resistance and cut through the shield’s bulk like a hot knife through butter as half fell to the floor. In his desperation, the soldier raised his sword to deflect her swift strikes. Her sword passed right through the Vandarian blade, leaving the broken edge red hot and smoking.

  “Come! They begin to thin!” Ilsa shouted as she pulled her daggers from another downed foe.

  Kayten nodded, dashed towards the back window, and leapt through its wide mouth. As Ilsa and Kayten found themselves in the alley outside, they heard a shouting from the far mouth.

  “Kayten! Ilsa! Run!” Ayden shouted, his hands sailing high above the heads of the Vandari, before he was clubbed with the pommel of a sword and dragged around the corner. They looked down both sides of the alley as two lines of four spearmen marched towards them. Kayten and Ilsa searched around in desperation but saw no escape; they knew they had to fight.

  “Try to get around them. Let’s make a break from the back alley,” Ilsa spoke as she withdrew two wooden baubles from her jerkin.

  Kayten saw the baubles before she nodded and tightened her grip on the blade. Ilsa threw down the items onto the street, and their thick smoke began to rise and form around the Malquians. Just as Ilsa was about to leap forward, something grabbed her hard and tight across the chest.

  “Enough of this. Come with us,” a voice told Ilsa in a strange but familiar accent.

  She had no options and did not resist. Soon, Kayten’s fiery sword shot up through t
he smoke like a shooting star and sailed beyond the borders of the roof.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As the rays of sun cut through the diminishing smoke, two men kneeled before Kayten and Ilsa, peering over the rooftop edge. With a tight wrap of black cloth and pauldrons, gloves, and boots of leather, the rescuers watched as the last of the Vandari cursed their misfortune and left the alleyway. As the one without an obscuring black face wrap stood first, his wispy hair glinted the same colour as the polished blades of steel that hung from his side. He looked at the two with dark brown eyes, and his flat chin did not move an inch until he moved to speak.

  “You must follow us. We have scouts following the Vandari to determine where your allies have been taken. But we must hurry, their archers will be on the rooftops shortly,” the familiar voice explained and led them on with a wave of his hand.

  Kayten watched the three darkly-garbed make their way to the other end of the building and leap the small gap to the next rooftop. For Kayten and her weighty armour, the jump seemed like a chasm. She stared down the three stories to the solid alleyway below.

  “Come on, Kayten. You’re stronger than that! I know you can do it!” Ilsa encouraged.

  Kayten nodded, backed up, and grabbed the excess of her robe before getting a sprinting start and leaping from the edge of the building. Ilsa caught her as Kayten lurched forward, nearly falling onto her face on the other side.

  “Okay. Only nine more to go,” the unmasked man explained.

  The masked one remained silent. The four continued along at a decent pace as Kayten summoned enough courage to make the leaps, some greater than the first, in stride. They came to the end of the block and looked down upon a small side street where buildings hugged the city wall facing the sea. The unmasked one looked down over the edge and leapt two stories into the street. Ilsa lurched over the edge to watch his fall and smirked as the man fell into a cart of what appeared to be bagged sand and rolled off onto his feet.

  “Really? Really?” Kayten asked as the masked one leapt to the cart.

  Ilsa patted her on the back with a smile and leapt down herself, landing on her heels and rolling forward over her knees and onto her feet.

  “Well, here goes nothing,” Kayten moaned as she grit her teeth and threw herself at the cart.

  With the weight of her armour, she did not roll but smacked the cart and did not move.

  “Ow!” Kayten spoke as the dust rose up around her, and Ilsa pulled her from the cart.

  “You’ll be fine, let’s continue,” Ilsa told her, and Kayten got to her feet, rubbing her sore rear.

  The four made their way up the street, past three more buildings, before skirting across the shallow street and opening a door to another two story building that hugged the city wall. They walked into a home where an old man sat alone, stirring a pot above his fireplace.

  “Raulf,” the unmasked one spoke and sent the man a nod, who sent him one in return.

  Kayten and Ilsa followed the two as they continued to a hallway that led to storage and the man’s room. The unmasked one bent over, felt at the edge of a rug, and then slid his fingers inside the floor. He stood to his full height and lifted up a section of the floor, revealing a stairway descending into darkness.

  “After you,” he told them, waving them inside.

  Ilsa ventured in first and traveled through a narrow hallway of darkness for a short time before coming to a landing lit by a lamp. There was a hole that led further underground with a rope ladder tied against the nearby wall. Ilsa looked at the man, and he nodded at the hole, bidding them to continue. Ilsa descended the ladder first, and it seemed like it continued for quite some ways because she shortly lost track of its rungs. She heard the gentle lapping of water before she could see the red rays of sundown. When she stepped off the ladder, she found herself on a risen edge of a seaside cave. She looked out of the cave, past the stalagmites and the stalactites that rose and fell from the cave mouth like a set of sharp fangs, to the final moments of the sun’s setting.

  When the four of them were on the tiny stone platform at the sea’s edge, the unmasked one made his way to the farthest edge and pushed at the rock wall. A section of the stony cave, imperceptible in the dimness, fell inwards at his touch. He slid the wall to the side, allowing them passage into its depth. Ilsa followed the masked one, passing a long rowboat stored on the side, and watched behind Kayten as the unmasked one slid the wall back into place.

  “Where are we?” Kayten asked as they continued through the torchlight tunnel.

  “Under the city. Within our inner sanctum,” the unmasked man responded as the tunnel began to branch off into different rooms and corridors.

  Kayten looked left and right through any of the open doors. She spied two bedrooms complete with burning lamps, furnished beds, hand-carved wooden dressers, and a rack for hanging robes, shirts, and overcoats. There was also a storage room and a warehouse where a dim light revealed rows of shelving with open crates, torn open sacks, and rows of polished weapons. Ilsa and Kayten eventually found themselves in a wide open chamber, and the unmasked one led them to its end to where an older man was sitting upon a throne of dark sea stone. He was wearing tight blacks that featured a swirling golden pattern along its length. The crow’s feet deepened as he squinted to see the forms in front of him and dragged himself up to attention.

  “So, these are some?” the elder asked his disciples.

  “Yes, these are two from the group from Erawal. This one uses the way of eluding fog and could be of tiger fang or serpent sting. This one here is less adept but appears to have a bloodfire blade,” the unmasked one stated, motioning towards each of them.

  “Thank you, Zoreyn,” the leader nodded, “Bring your tools forth, travelers,”

  “Thank you for saving us. What is this place? Who are you people?” Ilsa asked as she palmed a smoke bomb in one hand and unsheathed her ebony blade in the other, and Kayten withdrew her sword and laid it across both of her hands.

  “All in good time,” the leader said, raising a hand for patience he before looked at Ilsa, “You seem to be acquainted with shadow, but you are not one of us. Where have you learned of the way?”

  “I was trained by Master Wulfred, retainer to my family, the Vemsdower’s of Malquia. He taught the true nature of the darkness,” Ilsa explained and then made her weapons disappear.

  “Wulfred? That explains it. Did you know that Wulfred was from Vandar?” the man queried, stroking his tightly-trimmed goatee as he looked upon her.

  “No, I was unaware. Did you know him?” Ilsa asked, her eyes reflecting the dim torchlight.

  “Wulfred was just a child when I found him. His parents had recently passed from sickness, and he was an orphan here in Andalvia. I found him fighting a stray dog with a rock. He claimed it was to eat, and I took him into my care. He was one of the first disciples. He was the first of many to travel here, live here, and kill here in this city after the Order’s occupation had begun. It was through our organization that Wulfred found his wife and made a son. It was a great tragedy when Malic the Betrayer sold us out to Vandar and lead them to our former base within the city. Wulfred survived, wounding Malic, but his wife and son were killed in the assault, and he swore revenge. Wulfred left our cause and the city to seek his family’s killer,” the master explained.

  “Malic! Malic tried to kill a Malquian lord and a dear friend. The entire reason the Malquian forces have come to Kal’resh is to return him to Malquia… for questioning,” Kayten blurted out.

  “Malic is like the sand snake, camouflaged and elusive but none-the-less deadly. His allegiance to the Order also makes him a resourceful foe, although his shadow does not stalk Andalvia often,” the elder replied.

  “I had no idea about Wulfred. I wonder what happened between his departure and ending up down on his luck in Amatharsus. He was a faithful friend, and he was treasured until his death at the hands of the Blackwoods, puppets of the Order in Malquia,” Ilsa replied.r />
  The master nodded as if knowing the tale already.

  “Zoreyn is now my second. And I, Rahven, am the first. The people before you are the ‘coming-of-darkness’, or as we have been known, the ‘Dusk’,” Rahven stated as he motioned towards the followers who stepped out of the shadows to form a long line around the outside of the chamber.

  “Our group strikes from the shadows at these Vandarian overlords, striving relentless to free this once great city from their shackles. We are responsible for the deaths of four commanders who have ventured to rule over this city. Now, we are engaged in struggle against the fifth, Rakash Dommath, the so called ‘Light of Judgment’,” Rahven explained.

  “A warrior of light seems to be a worthy opponent to disciple of the shadows,” Ilsa stated.

  “Indeed, but it is not the fervency of his belief that has made him a worthy foe. Although we have broken through the defenses of the Vandarian guard time and time again, Rakash is a peerless fighter in the art of the sword. I’m sure you wonder why we do not simply overpower him with greater numbers. Unfortunately, he puts all our advantages to waste with his shining mursame blades. Like the light pushing away the shadow, Rakash can blind at many of us at once, prompting our swift escape from his lunging reach. We have tried smokes, oils, and prismatic eye-shades, but we have never succeeded against such effective weapons. And so, we are locked in a standstill as we await something to shift the balance of power back into our favor,” Rahven told them.

  Kayten bowed her head and grit her teeth. She knew it was only a matter of time until the Order would wield the true mursame blades, seeing how their knowledge of its secrets predated hers by decades. She also knew, with the presence of Dawnbringer and Darkbreaker upon the battle field, mursame’s potential for warfare had now been discovered and effectively proven. Kayten moved to speak about their mission to Andalvia to rescue their own warriors of light but was soon interrupted by a heavily breathing Dusk operative who broke the circle of his peers and bent to a knee.