The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle

by H. O. Charles

  Their hiding space was not particularly spacious, and he could feel her hot, breathing body against him. He very nearly cursed, but instead pulled a dagger from his coat and bit down on its handle. Artemi did not ask him what he was doing, for which he was very grateful. Two nobles walked past, appearing not to notice them, and entered a quieter room farther down the hall.

  “I think that’s where the meeting is,” Artemi said.

  It looked likely, but the entrance was too observable for them to sneak in. They would have to come at it from above. Morghiad padded back up the stairs with her close at his heels, and identified the two possible doors that could offer them a view. Before he could stop her, Artemi ran ahead of him to the door on the left. Where had she learned to be so reckless?!

  She only paused briefly to listen for people inside, and then threw it open. A fastmoving guard spun from his station and charged at her. Artemi just had time to block his assault with the edge of her sword, but Morghiad had already withdrawn his own. He ran to her assailant as they battled, clamped a hand over his mouth and wrapped his arm around the man’s neck to pull him to the floor. Their new

  prisoner struggled violently, but Artemi had him pinned by the legs. Morghiad had no choice but to break and reposition the guard’s neck. It would take a week or so to heal, but there was no use in killing him when they were unidentifiable. With any luck, the guard would not even remember much about the encounter. “Girl. If you don’t rein yourselfin, I will tie you up and leave you here while I do the rest. Do you understand?”

  She didn’t respond. From the glittering look in her eyes, she seemed to be enjoying this far too much.

  “I said, do you understand me?” he whispered harshly.

  She placed her hands on her hips. “I came here to watch you.”

  “And I told you, it’s my duty to make

  sure you don’t get yourself...“ He broke off. That would not happen again. “Just behave.”

  He looked around at the room layout. Dark wood office chairs and desks were scattered throughout the book-lined and paperfilled room. What had the guard been protecting in here? The wall on the right was too close to allow access to the ceiling of the meeting room. Artemi picked up the smoking end of a red leaf cigar. “Perhaps he came in here for a break?”

  Morghiad rose. “Why don’t you employ your excellent skill for thievery to provide us with a reason for being here?”

  “I thought you told me to behave...” Amusement touched her voice as she headed directly for a box under a desk. She rummaged around in it noisily before she straightened, and

  brandished a gold sceptre and some jewelled mayoral paraphernalia. Artemi did seem to have a nose for it. They moved carefully to the door of the next room.

  This time, Morghiad waited at the entrance for a reasonable period before opening it. The chamber beyond was dark and empty., and at the centre lay an enormous bed with gilt, carved headboards in a sickening array of colours. This was the mayoral bedroom, and by the gaudy looks of it, the incumbent had a taste for extravagant things. He would be just the sort of man to be turned by rich nobles.

  Artemi pulled back the silk rug to reveal the floorboards below, and Morghiad dropped to his knees to inspect for loose ones. Carefully peeling back a very old plank, he

  leaned down to the cavity, and listened.

  Veradlin’s voice filtered through, “...This unlawful kahr, this murderer who executed our beloved King Acher of House Sete’an! So I ask you now, will you stand by and allow him to take the taxes you have collected? Will you lie back like whores while he robs you of your dignity, your lands and fills them with witches?”

  Morghiad bit his lip. He couldn’t count the number of times Bracon had massaged his ego about his policies and triumphs. He pulled up another board and lay completely flat on the floor. The tops of several well-coiffed heads were just identifiable between the gaps of the ceiling boards.

  Artemi placed herself at the opposite side of the listening hole and propped her head

  on one arm.

  Veradlin continued, “...there are fortyseven of you here today, I am glad to report. Across the country we have no fewer than a thousand supporters, ready to take arms against Morghiad of House Jade’an.”

  A voice interrupted his speech, “He has an entire army at his beck and call; his general has police in every city. Can we really counter these things?”

  “But of course,” Bracon simpered, “I have spent enough time with them to know how their minds work - what their weaknesses are. Morghiad still thinks himself guilty enough to stand trial. He is weak enough to be convinced to abdicate once we have his army...”

  Morghiad felt his river of anger begin to “... Several of its more senior members have already indicated to us that they are unhappy with the changes he has made to the country. They feel they have been abandoned by their former captain while he seeks power and money.”

  Was that true? He had marched to every battle with those men, bled with them. How could they think he had forgotten them?

  “...And unfortunately for Lord Silar Forllan, his mother left a rather extensive address book of characters who form his most trusted network of informants. Many proved rather easy to... shall we say... tame?”

  They had to get hold of that list to get ahead - to know who had been turned.

  Veradlin cleared his throat. “There is also another advantage we have over our failed king and his corrupted court: Sky Bridges.”

  That was impossible. Those things weren’t even supposed to exist outside of myths! A heckler echoed Morghiad’s thoughts.

  “But of course they exist. One only needs to know where to look... and the aid of a pacified wielder. But we have a few of those in hand. So, as you can see, the stage is set for our forces to descend upon Cadra in fifty-two days’ time. And then we can destroy that bastard son of the slut Queen Medea!”

  Morghiad very nearly ripped out the joists and ceiling boards to reach his enemy. “I’ll kill him! I’ll rip out his thro-”

  Artemi clamped a hand across his mouth and pointed at the door. The sound of chattering voices approached.

  Moving quickly, they replaced the

  floorboards and re-covered them with the rug. The voices stopped outside the door of their room. One of them was a very drunk woman. Morghiad grabbed Artemi and pulled her under the gargantuan bed with him, where they lay amid the rolling dust in complete silence as the couple stumbled into the room.

  “You... are a... a... oh, I’ve forgotten. But whatever it was, you are one. And a very bad one at that!” said the woman.

  The man slurred something unintelligible, and then, “Well, my lady. I suppose you had better tell me off and spank my bottom for it! Did you know that fifty out of a hundred women enjoy... oh that’s not right. No, no. One intwo women. Ah... one intwo people enjoy sleeping with me!” he exclaimed exultantly.

  Artemi’s eyes looked at the king quizzically. He felt just as uncomfortable.

  There was the sound of corsets being ripped open and fabric brushing against fabric as the pair stumbled about.

  “You are very sexy for a mayor. You know... most of them are fat and ugly. But you’re just fat!” The woman hiccupped and they both laughed for far too long.

  The mayor broke their guffaws. “Well, lady. Tomorrow I shall still be fat and you shall be sober!”

  The mattress dropped suddenly as it took the weight of the two drunken lovers. Morghiad really did not want to have to endure the entirety of their malodorous affair. He gritted his teeth and tried to block out the incredibly unpleasant noises coming from

  above. At least it had curbed his passions for Artemi; no one could feel remotely amorous in such a situation.

  After a rather disappointing and frankly laughable climax, the sound of heavy snoring echoed about the room. Morghiad nodded at Artemi, and they quietly crawled out from under the bed. The dazzling sight of the two intertwined bodies reminded him of a pair of pigs: pink, oil
ed and ready for roasting. He went for the door and led his companion out to the fresh air of the hallway, before trotting back to their exit room.

  “I’m going to have to be sick,” Artemi croaked.

  “You’re not the only one,” he whispered. And for more reasons than the sounds made by the rutting couple.

  Morghiad and his betrothed climbed out of the window, and leapt back to the outskirts of the city, where they found their horses munching greedily on the grass. It was not long before they had returned to their cave, and Artemi set a small fire just inside the entrance.

  “We should hide that,” he said, taking her hand. The heat of The Blazes made the calescence of the fire appear lukewarm while he built a mask over the cave. It was only a cloned image of the surrounding earth, stone and brush, but would be sufficient in concealing them. From the cave side, it looked entirely transparent.

  “Very impressive,” Artemi said as she walked in and out of it. “I haven’t made that one before.” She took a seat opposite him and

  gave him one of her deep stares. “When the eisiel cut you, was it more or less painful than the other ones you’ve received?”

  He smiled. “They all start to feel the same after a while. I’m sure any of your house guards will tell you that.”

  She looked unsatisfied. “Is pinh... is it the worst pain? Do you think it’s the worst way to die?”

  “No.” The agony he’d felt from her still rocked his memory. It had been excruciating, like having your skin torn off and then being bathed in acid.

  “Well then, what is?”

  That was not something he wished to revisit, ever again. “You will not suffer it, Artemi, and you don’t need to know about it.”

  She did not ask more on the subject,

  and lay down on the stone floor with her flame hair half covering her face.

  An hour passed before she broke the silence again, “Have you ever... loved a woman?”

  Morghiad grimaced inside. He couldn’t very well lie about it. This was exactly why he was not supposed to meet her until she was twenty-three. That and the small matter of his unquenchable thirst for her. “There was a woman once. It was a long time ago. It’s not something I discuss.”

  She blinked at him. “She was a wielder, wasn’t she?”

  He remained silent. Too many clues would lead her to the only possible conclusion.

  Artemi pressed on, “I’d wager she was the most beautiful woman in Calidell.”

  “Enough!” His voice echoed through the ravine outside, and he immediately regretted it. She looked upset by his tone, and rapidly rolled onto her other side to face away from him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, before promptly falling asleep.

  While she lay still and unaware, he could not resist reaching across to touch her hair. It buzzed gently against his fingers like the vibrations of a hummingbird’s wings. He had held onto a piece of it after she’d died, watching as the power slowly faded from it each day, hoping that he’d find her again.

  Soft orange embers pulsed among the ashes, and signalled that the fire had reached its delayed conclusion. Artemi sat up and pushed aside the black and green cloak that covered her. The air was thick and humid from the previous day’s rain, and the skies grey with heavy clouds. She stood and assessed the cave around her. The lieutenant, his great horse and

  her own were gone, but the saddlery was still there. Perhaps he had left to find them water

  and hunt for some food of his own.

  She buttoned up her fitted coat and stepped outside. It really was remarkable how the cave mouth vanished behind the mask of Blaze Energy. Though now that she looked closer, it was possible to observe that several of the shrubs had been copied. Artemi left the false wall and scampered down the ledge. This would be an excellent opportunity to further test her tracking abilities. Two horses would make it very easy for her, but that man had a curious set of skills, and she intended to learn some of them.

  She had only really been able to follow him to Hafendh because of the limited number of options he’d had in getting there. Tracking him and that enormous horse had proven almost entirely fruitless, but nothing compared

  to the satisfaction she had felt when their black figures had come into view between the trees, nor the proximity she had achieved before he had noticed her presence.

  Artemi headed down the side of the ravine towards the river, as she believed that would be the best way to water the horses. She caught the occasional disturbance in the soil, but nothing was identifiable as a hoof print. How was that even possible? He may have trained his horse to levitate, but hers certainly could not! The brush thickened the closer she came to the bottom, and she caught a few signs of broken leaves. Artemi followed them to the edge of the rain-swollen river. Its roar was cacophonous so close, drowning out even the sound of the wind in the bare trees. The lieutenant was not here though. Farther

  downstream, she could see an inlet where the water swirled calmly, and she headed directly for it.

  She kept her footfalls utterly silent and her head low - her movements smooth enough to hunt the most flighty of deer. The two horses came into view very quickly, drinking at the edge of the water. Artemi moved softly between the larger trees, scanning the nearby area for any movement of her new friend. Something flicked out from behind a sallow trunk. It was lofty enough to have been from a man of his height.

  She crept up to the aged, wrinkled wood and planned her surprise. She would appear cool and omniscient; that would teach him to treat her like an unruly child! Artemi swung round the tree calmly, “I see y-”

  His green eyes regarded her levelly.

  “Oh,” she said. The lieutenant raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

  Artemi remembered herself and turned her back to him. Did the man have a severe dislike for clothing? She had seen everything. It had been bad enough when he had decided to strip in front of her in the cave, but at least then he had had the presence of mind to keep his underclothes on! He could have had the shame to cover himselfwith his towel at least! Perhaps he enjoyed parading his overly muscled body before young women. She had heard of men who liked to do that. Even his blasted scars enhanced his looks. Infernal man! It would be better if he just jumped into a stinking mire or gorged on a few hundred

  feasts. That would wipe the smugness from his pretty face!

  “MightI have my clothes?” he asked.

  Artemi spotted them a few yards ahead of her. Clearly he intended to use her as his servant now that she had made a point of her low breeding. She made an exasperated noise and went to collect them, before holding them out behind her. Brief tendrils of flame licked down her arm as he took the items from her.

  After surprisingly little rustling of material, he walked past her to the horses. “You could do with a bath yourself, my lady,” he declared as he strode by.

  “I am not removing my clothes in front of you!” She didn’t smell that much, did she?

  He gave her an expression she could not interpret. Then, “So you’d prefer to bathe

  in your clothes?”

  “Before other men, it is probably a condition of being the king’s property.” She folded her arms in annoyance at his stupid, relaxed arrogance.

  He approached her and regarded her for a moment. “As you wish.” With whirlwind speed, he picked her off the ground, threw her over a broad shoulder and strode to the water’s edge. Artemi kicked and struggled and yelled at him. It was no good. Before she knew it, she was sailing through the air and into the frozen embrace of the river.

  The water was darkly muddied by its torrential path, and Artemi watched as the brown bubbles swirled above her. An undercurrent was pulling her down, but she paused before fighting it. There was something

  calming about being under the water something very familiar. She kicked hard at the wash beneath and dragged her body back to the surface. When she re-emerged, the lieutenant was grinning broadly. His grin turned to laughter: loud, infuriating l
aughter. Artemi suppressed her anger. She would rise from the water the queen she’d been trained to be, if only a rather bedraggled queen.

  She kept her chin high and her shoulders back as she stepped out of the shallows. Sogginess was nothing to her physical being. Artemi walked up to her assailant and waited patiently until he had finished his display of amusement. His smile did not fade altogether, but it would do. “Would you be so kind as to bring me my horse, lieutenant?” She emphasised each consonant

  for effect.

  The man folded his arms and held her gaze. When she showed no sign of moving, he tilted his head. “Hmm,” was all he said before he went to fetch the animal.

  Upon reaching the cave, he saddled her horse and came to speak to her. “Wouldn’t you like some dry clothes?”

  With benevolent tones, she said, “I thought you would prefer my odour in riverwashed ones.”

  “I can’t have you freezing to your death in the name of cleanliness.”

  When she gave no response, he muttered something about stubbornness and went to fetch his cloak, which did feel very warm across her shoulders. He paused as he pulled it tight around her. “On your various

  outings, have you found anything that would help me find Lady Forllan’s address book?”