The Glimmer Steel Saga, Boxed Set, Books 1 - 4

by Spencer Pierson

  “She’s right, Aiden.” Valeran piped in. “We know there is only one of you, and we will keep the others from requesting too many new things. It’s the exact same thing about the Naiaden toys. Carol has already said they will only use their special weapons to balance out anything the Mourning Lord might throw at us, otherwise it’s swords and shields. Though, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to see a line of Exemplar’s charging at them, even if they were only carrying water buckets.”

  “Okay, well, I’m willing to help however I can, but thank you for that,” Aiden said, relief coloring his voice. “I’ve already been a bit strained and missing nights of sleep. I couldn’t imagine trying to outfit your entire army.”

  Stelios looked a bit off-put by that, and Aiden couldn’t blame him. The weapons and armor he’d made for the guard captain and his men had saved their lives on more than one occasion. He had begun to make more copies at a time on the ship, could there be a way to do even more? He’d have to talk to the Professor to see if he had any ideas.

  “So what now?” Chari asked, sitting in the seat next to Ashrak with her legs in his lap. “A new war? And that ship the Mourning Lord had. I know it was heavily damaged, but most people won’t even care. All they have to do is fly the thing over a battlefield and most soldiers will run, won’t they?”

  “On both sides,” Stelios said. “The few soldiers who lived through the attack on Riften were terrified the entire time. One of the only reasons some of them survived is they wanted to get away from the troop transports as fast as possible. I don’t think he can just fly that thing down wherever, not at first. And he’s got to be wondering if the Naiadens have any more tricks up their sleeves.”

  “Yes, but there’s some things that need to be done before others,” Valeran said, looking over at Chari and Ashrak, “like your wedding and assumption of your Ducal throne, Ashrak. It’s going to be tricky, we have perhaps another week before word gets down to Brun about what happened. We need to be down there just afterward before too much panic ensues. If we can at least get your Duchy stable, that will be a large relief, not to mention Duke Chreen is just across the channel from Brun. We need to get your army and navy ready in case they try to take advantage of the situation.”

  “Wait, did you say wedding?” Aiden said, sitting up.

  The Duke nodded. “Yes. It will be best to get it done quickly so there are already ties with Terek and the alliance. Once Ashrak has gotten confirmation from his lord's council, it will all be easier, but I imagine it really won’t be. When have lords ever been reasonable, eh?”

  “He’s right,” Ashrak said coldly. “None of them even imagined me becoming the Duke. They all thought I’d be dead a year ago. They won’t like things changing so suddenly. There might be some who welcome the change, but it won’t be easy to find them. They’ve all gotten practiced at hiding their true feelings. Those who didn’t were usually killed by my father.”

  “I’ll be at your back with the Terek fleet,” Valeran said. “I’ve already given orders for them to start down there and by the time we arrive, they’ll be close. It won’t be easy to convince anyone you are not my puppet, but that’s exactly what we’re going to have to do.

  “Wedding?” Chari said, slowly looking up at Ashrak, an unreadable expression on her face.

  “Yes!” Ashrak smiled, looking happily at her. “Won’t it be fantastic!”

  “And… when were you going to ask me?”

  Ashrak froze, suddenly realizing the extreme danger he was in. He didn’t answer right away which may or may not have been a wise choice.

  Chari narrowed her eyes and stood slowly. Her voice was low and chill. “I’ll be in my room if you have any other declarations about my life. Please, send a messenger to let me know about them. I will be so happy to hear what you have decided.” Then she turned and left.

  Valeran and Stelios immediately began to hoot with laughter when Ashrak sprang up and ran after Chari, a desperate look on his face.

  Ahnarad just shook her head, chuckling softly. “Well, that marriage is off to a good start. It will serve him well to have someone keep him a little off-balance.”

  Aiden nodded, exchanging glances with Gavin before shrugging.

  “We might have been the lucky ones, Aiden,” Gavin volunteered and both of them turned to watch their friends disappear into the distance. Despite everything, it still made him smile. With so many dangers rising in their path, he knew they had a hard road ahead of them in order to defeat the Mourning Lords. But they had to fight the fear. For Aiden and his friends, there was no other way to move forward.

  ***

  A Glimmer of War

  Chapter 1

  Duke Feldar watched the hunched, twisted form of the old woman as she hummed to herself. She was not the tall, imposing form of the masked Mourning Lord he usually spoke with, but this one scared him just as much. This one was called The Eater, and while he hadn’t known why she held that title when she’d first arrived, the steady disappearance of servants and even a few guards was giving him some frightful ideas. He made sure that whenever he was forced to visit the strange vats she’d constructed in the depths of his citadel, he always had at least three fully-armed guards with him. The need to talk with her had been rare, but today she’d summoned him, and he had no choice but to respond.

  Despite how warm it was, he didn’t like being down here, now. It smelled of brine and the ocean, both of which he’d hated since he was a small boy. Being up in the middle of the Atero Mountain range just made it more of an oddity but he knew this was all necessary. Since their defeat at the city of Riften, he was just waiting for the powerful navies of Riften or Terek to appear off of his coast. He knew what The Eater was growing in the vats would provide a significant distraction for those Duchies and would protect his Dukedom. He told himself that was the only reason he had allowed it to happen.

  He could see small swirls in the thick liquid appear at irregular intervals. Whatever was growing in there was not large yet. He’d been told not to let anyone in here without the express permission of The Eater because it would be unwise to feed the creatures early. If it happened that they acquired any food at this early stage, they would grow too fast and become a problem. He didn’t know what kind of problem, but the way she’d said the word made him heed her warning with utmost discipline and he’d given strict orders for everyone to stay away. Honestly, he wished he could be anywhere but here, himself.

  His musings ended when the crippled old woman quickly thrust her hand into the water and pulled something out. It was grayish-green and wriggled madly in her bony fingers as it snapped two grotesque claws in the air, trying in vain to twist and latch onto the woman’s hand. It was only about ten centimeters long but was bulky for its size; combining both a soft body and a hard chitinous exoskeleton over its head, legs, and claws. As it attempted to free itself, it let out a frightfully loud screech, protesting its extraction from its watery home.

  In response, The Eater cackled and brought it close to her cowled face. The Duke thought she was just examining the thing, but then he heard a sickening crunch followed quickly by the sound of loud, wet chewing.

  It took every bit of discipline in his flabby, sweating body not to bolt from the room. He could hear the guards shuffling nervously behind him and could only imagine their wide, terrified eyes but he dared not look. He knew if he did, he would lose his courage and flee the sweltering room. As the old woman chewed thoughtfully on her unexpected meal, she finally turned to stare at the Duke. Her eyes were hidden deep in the cowl that she wore, but he could see them gleaming out at him with a disturbing hunger.

  “They are almost ready,” she rasped, her face hidden in darkness. The Duke continued to hear the wet sounds of her chewing as she spoke. Unwittingly, a scene where one of his grandchildren’s nanny told her young charges not to speak and chew at the same time flashed across his mind’s eye. He ruthlessly pushed the thought down and wrenched his concentration back to the
figure before him. Standing in front of this frightful presence was the last place he needed to daydream such dangerous, and insane, thoughts. He was glad he couldn’t see through the gloom of her cowl. “Have you prepared the transports to take my children around on their errands, dear Duke?”

  He nodded, sweating under her gaze and the heat of the room. She didn’t take her eyes off of him as she took another bite of the thing in her hand and he wondered if she imagined it as his flesh she was consuming. “Yes, everything has been prepared. I’ve constructed the containers within the transports per your requirements. All I need is the liquid to fill them, and whatever else goes with it.”

  “Ah, very good,” she said casually. The Duke felt his gorge rise as slimy juices sprayed out from her cowl onto the floor. “The pumps in the transports will pull the liquid and my babies where they need to go. We will need some brave, very careful souls to put the hoses into the tanks, however. Do you have suitable people ready to handle that task? It should be fairly simple, and I promise I will keep my hands to myself during the process.” The Eater paused though her free hand flexed, clawlike in the dim room. “They should be ready by tomorrow at noon. Yes, my children should be ready for their first outing to say hello to everyone. I just know they will enjoy playing along the coasts of your friends.”

  Duke Feldar watched as her feverishly-staring eyes crinkled in amusement. He nodded to the hag but secretly vowed to pick his newest, most expendable men to perform that task when the time came. “It will be done, Your Excellency.”

  She laughed a high pitched, stringent-sounding cackle and dropped the half-eaten thing in her hand onto the floor, taking a step toward the Duke. “Oh, I do so love hearing your amusing forms of address. It has been many years since I’ve been down to the planet and I’ve forgotten how polite you’ve all become. Will you bow for me as well?”

  Duke Feldar couldn’t help but hesitate. Something about her had changed when she’d taken her step forward. He could see her fingers twitch again, almost as if they wanted to reach out and grab him. However, he couldn’t disobey her request. Instead, he bowed while keeping his head up and taking a step back towards his three guards at the same moment.

  He could tell she almost pounced, the temptation of his juicy flesh calling to her. He could hear his guards step back as well, away from the threat. He would have to arrange something special for his men for their lack of loyalty. Indeed, the thought of distracting himself with hot irons on their flesh would prove a fitting distraction from this meeting.

  However, she stopped herself with her hands half-raised, turning away from him with a half-muttered curse. For long moments she muttered and rubbed her hands up and down against her ragged robes, finally bending to pick up the half-eaten creature from the floor and caress it like a lost pet.

  “Yes, good man. Bowing. So polite you are these days.” She muttered, barely loud enough for the Duke to hear but he was not about to step closer. “Remember, tomorrow at noon. Have your men enter through the door behind you. They should put the hoses into each vat and empty the containers completely. Do not leave any of the liquid or creatures behind. Once they depart, I will begin on a new batch of my lovely little children as well as a surprise for Duke Norpon.” She paused, caressing the carcass in her hand before taking another messy sounding bite. “So lovely.”

  Duke Feldar didn’t hesitate to leave nor did he dare look at any of his men. He knew that if he did, he’d see the same gibbering terror that was gnawing at his guts reflected in their eyes. Not that it mattered. These particular cowards would be dead before the night was upon them.

  ***

  His study was warm and comforting to him. As always, he had his servants keep the fire going year round, so that whenever he retreated to his inner sanctum, he would not have to wait for it to be warm. He was getting older, and the cold crept into his bones more and more with each passing winter.

  Retreating to his desk, he powered on the built-in terminal and called up the map which he had received from the Mourning Lords, grinning in anticipation at what it was showing him. Several highlighted points near the coast of Riften and Terek showed the drop areas for the creatures in his basement. The Masked had assured him the little darlings would cause extensive panic and chaos while also crippling the fishing industries. He wasn’t sure exactly how, but after seeing the small version of those creatures down in his basement, he hoped they would just become more dangerous once they grew to full size, whatever that was.

  As he sat pondering this next step in his master’s plan, he felt a hand, both cold and warm, slide over his shoulder. He almost jumped, but froze when he saw out of the corner of his eye the dark red satin covered by scroll worked steel fingers that belonged to the Masked Lord. The hand tightened ever so slightly before he felt the other slide onto his opposite shoulder.

  His mind thrashed in fear even as he stayed frozen, feeling the two hands begin to massage his high-strung muscles. The strangely soothing feeling warred with his terror and lost, but he dared not move. He had seen the creature that was wrapped around the Mourning Lord kill, and he knew he had no hope of jumping free before it struck if its master intended his death. Dismally, he heard a strange whimpering noise before he realized it was himself.

  “Come, come, Grimmin,” whispered the sonorous, smooth voice of his master. “Why are you so tense? I know Minerva can be somewhat off-putting, but her skills are the best when it comes to creating the most interesting creatures. She will give us the time we need to take care of things properly. She is on her best behavior.”

  Duke Feldar could feel cold sweat trickling down his back as he nodded vigorously. “Yes, Your Excellency. I understand. I did not mean to offend.”

  The Mourning Lord’s hands came off the Duke’s shoulders, and the tall figure moved to the front of his desk. The intricately carved mask he always wore was tracking the Duke as he moved. Finally, he sat gracefully on one of the two facing chairs, leaning back in its opulence and nodding. “Yes, I know you are doing your best. Do not let it trouble you. You have been wise to keep your distance from her because she really cannot help herself. You have plenty of guards and servants here, so it should not be a burden.”

  “Yes, my lord. I think the plan is progressing well. We’ve done everything that has been asked of us and will continue to do so.”

  The tall figure paused and tilted its head, “When the transports lift off tomorrow, they will each go to their respective places and unload a portion of their cargo. Include two men with each transport. Make certain they are smart but disposable, just in case. The base lifeform Minerva has been using can be…exuberant.”

  “Of course. I already have the men picked and ready,” Duke Feldar said. He paused as if to speak again but stopped himself, looking down instead.

  “Speak your mind, Grimmin,” the Mourning Lord said, tapping the desk with one of his metallic claws. “Do you see any issues or concerns?”

  Duke Feldar took a breath before speaking. “I…do not know, Your Excellency. Do you think there is any way for that brat to interfere? To make one of these fantastical contraptions, that could stop this plan?”

  “There is always a chance, but it shall not be easy, dear Grimmin. Once our little charming distractions begin feeding and growing, they shall spread all along their coast. It will be only a short time before nothing is safe near the water. A total disaster for Riften and nearly one for Terek as well. They will have to pull their armies and navies back to their realms and leave them unable to interfere in the East.”

  Duke Feldar nodded. He couldn’t see how stopping a hoard of creatures from the ocean would be easy. If they truly did what his master said, his own Duchy would be safe, at least from the armies of men. “It does seem like a good plan, my lord. There is no center for them to strike. If the little beasts reproduce as quickly as you say, they cannot stop them. I will continue to be able to funnel resources and men to Duke Norpon. Once we conquer Caitrel and Banum, we can tur
n our attentions towards more of the Duchies.”

  “That’s the spirit, dear Grimmin,” the Masked Lord said before standing up. A package began to emerge from his robes. Tightly wound in paper and twine, it was a double handful though not heavy once given to Duke Feldar. “Here are the supplements for your men traveling to the war zone. Be certain they are received, or your men will be useless within two weeks.”

  “It will be done.”

  “Of course it will,” the Mourning Lord said, turning away from the Duke’s desk. “Now, I must be going, Dear Grimmin, but you still seem so stressed. Perhaps you should play with one of your little toys. Afterward, send what’s left to Minerva. She would appreciate the thought and will like you better.”

  Duke Feldar only nodded, not trusting himself to speak as the Mourning Lord slowly faded from view. It did sound like a good idea to him, but he was afraid that The Eater already liked him too much for his comfort.