The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle

by H. O. Charles

  “He was your brother too.”

  Kalad shook his head. “It was not the same.”

  “Will you take up your

  responsibility now? Someone needs to march the borders.”

  “Ah, I’m not a fighter, Med. I’d be no good to you.”

  “But you could organise them – you could marshal our eyes and ears-”

  “Medea, I cannot stay. Not in this white... prison! I only came to see you, to make sure you were alright. And you are alright?”

  She smiled weakly. She certainly felt better for seeing him. Not many of their family remained in Gialdin now. It would be another half-decade at least before their parents returned. She sighed heavily. They would not take

  The evening passed quickly, and though an element of her nausea remained with her through the night, she was able to sleep during most of it. Artemi awoke and made herself ready for her journey home, then set off upon her old horse for the north and the rickety village of Allintar. It was not too far from Hestavos, but distant enough for her to pass beneath the open blanket of stars and wave at the moon on the way.

  There were few things Artemi loved more than the open desert in the grip of night time, or the haze of the early morning. It smelled of the sort of freshness that all cities had long since lost, and it was free of the eyes and noises of a thousand other people. It was free of blazed, Hirrahan idiots.

  She arrived at Allintar just as the sun had reached its peak in the midday sky, and just as her skin had started to freckle from the exposure to it. She did not like freckles; they tended to attract unnecessary amounts of teasing from friends and foes. The horse ambled slowly along the narrow streets and his hooves clattered noisily down the cobbled alleyways. At length, she reached the small building that had been her home for so many years.

  With saddlebags over one shoulder, and her mount’s reins in one hand, Artemi strode to her front door and knocked once.

  There was no answer.

  She knocked again. Still nothing. Her heart started to beat faster. Her father would not be at work today;

  why would he be out? Silar’s warning flashed up in her mind again. She tried the door latch, but found it ineffective. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that the whole door had been nailed shut around the edges. Why would anyone

  –

  “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

  Artemi spun, and was met by a round-faced woman with long, black hair. She looked rather serious, and her clothing quite expensive for the district. “Oh,” she said, “You must be the daughter.”

  “My father lives here, yes.”

  The woman folded her arms. “Lived. Your father was killed yesterday morning. I am sorry.”

  All breath drained from her lungs. “What?”

  “Eisiel. It took out three of our guards. Only the blacksmith, Evarr, was able to stop it, and he lost an eye.”

  “My father is dead?”

  The woman let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes. Do you want to see his body?”

  Artemi could not breathe. She could not swallow, or think, or move. Her eyes felt hot. They wanted to do something, though she was not quite

  sure what it was. “His body,” she murmured.

  “No? Well, fine then. There’s the business of settling the estate to be dealt with. My investigations have revealed that this house was rented rather than owned by your father, correct?”

  “Ah... I... yes.” Dead? “From Miss Sinteri.”

  The woman nodded, writing something down on her sheaf of parchment. “Mmm-hmm. And we’ve seen to the contents being sold, so that is not a problem. Did he have any savings that you know of?”

  “You sold his things?”

  The woman levelled her eyes at Artemi. “There are fees that must be paid, girl, and your father’s estate was not a big one. You want him to be properly honoured in death with a pyre, do you not?”

  Artemi nodded slowly. She did want that. “He had no savings. Everything he had spare went to my schooling.” Her face was making increasingly clear what her emotions wanted of her now. She could feel her skin reddening.

  “I see. Add to that the debt to Master Ruey.” She scribbled a few

  more things down. “I’m afraid we are still short of some pennies. How old is the horse?”

  She looked to her mount. “Seventeen.”

  “We’ll take him as well, then.” She folded up her writing into a roll and placed it under one arm. “That should break about even. Count yourself lucky he hasn’t left you in debt, girl.” With that the woman took her horse’s reins, and walked with the animal away and into the shadows of the narrow streets. Artemi stood outside her former front door for a moment, not knowing where she ought to go next. A few people

  walked past her, but none lifted their eyes to look.

  Artemi needed to do something, to make herself useful. His body. She wanted to see his body. Some strength was required to shake her legs back into action, but she succeeded in lifting each one into something that resembled walking. After an amount of time she could not determine, she arrived at the edges of the graveyard. A pyre was always ready and waiting at the edge of the area, unused. The evermade bed, the villagers called it. All would go to rest there, eventually.

  To the left of that was a long,

  low and thick-set stone building, a building that would remain cool inside on the hottest of days. She walked in slowly, eyes only adjusting to the darkness in gradual increments. Five shapes emerged from the gloom, their forms covered by black sheets. Artemi immediately knew which one to head for, as he was shorter and slighter than the others. She pulled the sheet slowly from his face, and saw that it was indeed her father beneath. His face looked pale and bloodless, but calm. She removed the rest of the sheet, revealing two huge gouges that stretched the length of his torso. They

  were filled with some sort of black fluid that she recognised all too well. Artemi quickly replaced the sheet, and the tears started to flow in full force. She would never see him again, hear him speak. If she had come yesterday...

  If she had come yesterday, she still would not have been able to prevent it. Silar had known. Would it have been any easier if she had remained in Hestavos and heard by letter? It seemed unlikely. Artemi permitted herself to cry for a moment longer, until someone placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Doesn’t serve them to cry so

  long, child,” the voice said.

  Artemi turned to face the source. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Toryn,” said the man in a distinctly foreign accent. He smiled with pity in his eyes. “I’ve come to see that you are alright.”

  “Why?” She stood to face him. He was perhaps a half-a-foot taller than she, with hair that appeared to glow red in the low light. How old he was, she could not have said, though he gave off the impression of many years spent alive.

  “Because you should not be alone for this.”

  She did not particularly want to be alone, though why he should care about it was an unsettling unknown. “They are going to burn him soon.”

  “That is the Sunidaran way, I’m told.” He inclined his head slightly. “Come outside before the sun sets.”

  Artemi followed the stranger, and sat next to him upon the stone wall. There was something about his face... something she had seen before. “Silar sent you, didn’t he?”

  Toryn nodded.

  She thought for a moment, digging her nails into the rocks that formed her seating place. “If he had

  known about this, why didn’t he stop it from happening?”

  “That is a good question. I honestly wish I knew the answer, but I do not. Silar sees and does things that few of us really understand. His old approach was to interfere as much as possible. More recently he seems to have... backed off. Perhaps he sees something that will result from this that is more important.”

  What could be more important than a life? She cursed Silar’s name again. “He knew I would ignore his inst
ruction.”

  “Of course he did.”

  How could a man have that power? To know that one action could change everything, and which action it would be? “But surely you could have saved my father. You could have warned him...” For the first time, she noticed the sword at his back and his build. “You could have fought the eisiel off.”

  “No. I was handed a letter three weeks ago, and was told to ride here as fast as I could. No reason was given, except that you would need me. I arrived two hours ago.”

  “Why you?”

  He smiled, his grey eyes

  sparkling in the low light. “Because he knew I would read his letter and adhere to it.” His gaze dropped to the sand at their feet. “And because he knew I’d lost a daughter, and you a father.”

  “Are you going to stay here?”

  He nodded. “As long as you need me to.”

  This was very strange, very strange indeed. She had only just lost a father – she did not need another one! “I don’t want you to stay.”

  “No?” He looked... upset. Blazes, now she felt guilty!

  “How did your daughter die?”

  The man sighed briefly, then

  said, “Murdered. She discovered something she was not supposed to. The interested parties had her killed for it.”

  “I’m sorry, Toryn. And for your king, as well.”

  He twitched as if bitten by something then. His face darkened considerably.

  “Did I say something – was I wrong to assume – I just thought you must be Calidellian, and-”

  “He was my king, Temi. He was a good lad, good-natured and honest. The best. It is a great loss.” Lad?

  Artemi shuffled under his arm,

  so that it lay across her shoulders. They remained there for the evening, and watched at a distance as her father’s body was placed upon the pyre with the others. The logs were set alight, and soon their remains had become part of the flames that made the world turn. She would wield them by herself one day, and his fire would be among them, somewhere.

  She cried into Toryn’s shoulder several times, which seemed to be something he was built to tolerate. The man gave the impression of a rock in the Lightning Seas, weathered by a thousand storms, but pushed over by

  none. When the morning came, she was ready to leave. Artemi was confident that she did not want to see this damned village ever again.

  “I’m going back to Hestavos now,” she said to the Calidellian man.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  She shook her head. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “I rode for three bloody weeks to get here, girl. I’m coming with you.”

  “I don’t need anything more from you.”

  He folded his thick, stone-like arms. “Stubborn, is it? Well, I can do stubborn as well.”

  “You sound like my – oh, just – fine then.” He did sound like her father. What had this Silar been planning in his blazed mind?

  “Do you have a horse?”

  “I don’t need one. I’ll walk on my own feet.”

  A smile touched his features. “I bet you would. Even if I bought one for you, you’d still walk alongside it, eh? Wilfully ridiculous.”

  “I am not.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “We ought to go, then. You’ll want to rest when the sun’s at its height, no doubt.”

  “I am Sunidaran, not a soft

  Calidellian. I’ll walk.”

  He unhitched a rather fine animal from the post that was situated a few yards away, and brought it toward her. “Set your bags on her back, then.”

  “You have a racer mare for your mount? Are you a lord?”

  “Not in the traditional sense, no. Hurry up.”

  Artemi dropped her saddlebags across the hind quarters of the horse, pleased to see that several skeins of water had already been fastened there. How much did one Calidellian need to drink? She closed the buckles on her

  own items, and began walking.

  “You do realise that I must offer you a seat on here,” he called after her.

  “Not required,” Artemi called back.

  Hoof falls soon caught up with her, and Toryn rode at her side as they ventured back into the desert. He was quiet for most of it, which was sensible. Any fool knew that opening your mouth in the heat was a good way to waste water. She did, however, manage to extract from him that he was a soldier by trade, and that he had some very close links to the Calidellian royal family. Exactly how those links

  were forged, he would not be pressed upon.

  Four days passed before they arrived at the outskirts of Hestavos, and Artemi had to admit that she was grateful for Toryn’s company. She had made that particular journey on foot before, but she had owned the resilience of a fearless child then. She had also required far less food. Thankfully, her new acquaintance had come well-prepared.

  “This is where your school is?” he asked, looking rather surprised at the size of the city. Very little traffic had passed them on their journey to

  indicate that it would be so big. Then again, few would ever want to go to Allintar.

  “It is indeed. I’ll help you find a good inn.”

  She chose The Scarlet Star for him, as it seemed to match his occupation and horse rather well. Once the somewhat exhausted creature had been stabled, he invited her to the bar for a beer. Artemi was too tired and thirsty to refuse. They were both far dustier than the typical clientele that the inn served, but none of the staff raised an eyebrow. Perhaps they were used to seeing travel-worn guests.

  Toryn took a deep swig of his ale as soon as it arrived. Artemi was still drinking deeply on hers when he spoke. “Have you met the green-eyed Morghiad yet?”

  Some of her beer went down the wrong way, and she spluttered to clear it. At length, she managed to answer his question. “So Silar told you about that bastard, too? What about him?”

  Toryn’s mouth turned down at the corners in puzzlement. “He’s not your friend?”

  “Friend? He spends his time thinking of ways to humiliate me. He’s arrogant, conceited, selfish and colder

  than the shade in Forda. He’s the last man I’d want as a friend.”

  “Hmm.” Toryn’s features relaxed suddenly. He smiled broadly. “Well, trust your instincts, I say. He sounds like quite the villain.”

  “Villain does not come close to describing him. Now Linfar, he is a friend.”

  “Linfar?” Her father smirked. Wait - father? Was she forgetting her own already? Blast it! What was wrong with her? Artemi pushed the thoughts to one side, and began talking about

  Linfar. It was late in the evening by the time she had finished.

  Toryn remained at Hestavos for the remaining weeks of the festival break, and Artemi had to admit that she had become rather attached to him by the end of it. He frequently remonstrated with her over things that were not his to remonstrate over, and his sense of humour was peculiar, even inexplicable at times. But his presence was a reassurance she had missed, and he was good with a sword. She picked up quite a few little tricks from his lessons, tricks that her Sunidaran tutors

  had never been keen to show her. Toryn had been a very calculated choice on Silar’s behalf; that much was clear.

  She hugged him goodbye when it was time for her to begin her lessons once more, and even shed a tear or two as he rode away. It was an odd experience. Could a woman, who was essentially full-grown, adopt a father so soon after losing the first? Artemi tried to suppress her guilt, and wandered back into the compound of Fate’s. Already many of the cadets had returned, and some of them bustled about the stables putting their horses

  away. Artemi no longer had her horse, though in fairness, he had been growing too old for the strain of crossing the desert. She hoped he had found an owner who would give him an easier life.

  Artemi returned to her room after checking for Ulena, who still was not back yet, and went to lie upon her own bed. Her rest was interrupted, however, when the house m
istress entered.

  “Miss Fevtari,” she said solemnly.

  Artemi stood to attention. Thank blazes the place was tidy!

  The woman looked rather more stern than usual, which made her almost brick-like in aspect. “You are to see Captain Gilkore as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll go now. Thank you, Mistress Kinney.” Artemi marched out of her room without another word, and made her way hastily to the captain’s office. She had no doubt that the school had received word of her father’s death. Perhaps Gilkore would consider her something better than a wren, now.

  “Come!” he announced from beyond his door.

  Artemi entered, and once he had seated himself, she took the chair opposite.

  “I have news from Allintar,” he began, “I do not need to explain the nature of it to you, I understand?”

  “No, captain.”

  He nodded. “Well, then. I must tell you that your time here is nearing its end. Your father left your fees paid up until next month. After that there is nothing more, and his bank has instructed me that his accounts have been emptied to settle all debts.”

  A month? And yet she only had this winter and spring before her

  training would be complete. They would permit her to finish, surely?