Preludes to War (Eve of Redemption Book 6)

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Preludes to War (Eve of Redemption Book 6) Page 11

by Joe Jackson


  Kari nodded. It seemed like the most sensible plan under any circumstances, especially here on Mehr’Durillia. The whole concept of kast’wasi was as much of a mystery to her as the kings that engaged in it. If the princes eventually grew into kings, why did anyone sire or give birth to potential competition? The whole notion was absurd, which suggested there was some other facet Kari was still unaware of.

  “Is there anything you know about Salvation’s Dawn that your peers are ignorant to?” she asked him, wondering if Morduri would overhear with the crowd noise.

  Emanitar stared at her for a minute, then turned his gaze back over the field as halftime came to an end. “Only that you are not the first. Will you be the last? I cannot say. What part you may play in all this remains to be seen, but I am certainly impressed with your efforts thus far. You are both a great prize and a great threat to the kings, the former giving me cause to think you have a greater chance of success in this endeavor than might normally be the case.”

  “You mean Amnastru will hesitate to kill me, Your Majesty?”

  “I cannot speak to that with certainty. He is volatile and lacks the more tempered hand of his father. I would advise you, should you find yourself on the verge of being slain, to remind him of the Overking’s desires. He may not heed your warning, but it may be the one thing that can save you should you fall before him.”

  Kari would have to keep that in mind. “If he captured me and took me back to his father, do you think King Sekassus would kill me?”

  Emanitar nodded. “Yes, without question. He can likely do so and escape punishment by the Overking. His son, on the other hand, would have no protections from our lord.”

  “So don’t get caught, got it,” Kari muttered, eliciting a chuckle from both of the kings with her. She had suspected Morduri could likely overhear everything they said, but now she had to wonder if one of the other kings might have spies among Emanitar’s people here.

  The second half of the match got started. Now Kari could see that the Reds were warmed up and ready. They trounced their youth team in the second half, setting up offensive schemes and using free kicks to devastating effect. Though the Reds surrendered a goal to the Juniors on a brilliant corner play, they scored five times themselves in the second half. Even with a margin of five goals separating victor and loser, the match still pleased the crowd and the king, and both teams received rowdy applause at the match’s conclusion.

  “Do your people play?” Emanitar asked, staying in his seat while the crowd began to disperse. The teams both came by and bowed before him, and the king sent them off to relax with a gracious nod of his head.

  “Here and there, but I’m honestly not sure if my home city has a league or even a team. I’m sure the children probably play, but there aren’t a lot of organized sports in DarkWind that I know of, and I’ve been living there for about four years.”

  “How dreadfully boring. What do your people do for entertainment?”

  “Kill each other, mostly,” Kari muttered. Emanitar’s ears perked up in shock along with Morduri’s, and Kari chuckled. “I’m kidding. I used to go out for drinks and to listen to the bard troupes before my mate and I had children. I’m not much of a social person, though. I find most of my entertainment at home, with my family and my children. Though I spend so much of my life on the road, entertainment isn’t ever really much of a consideration.”

  “Hmph. Perhaps you should prod those in charge of your home city to look into putting together some sports to entertain their people. As long as the matches are never taken seriously, it is a good diversion from the stresses and fatigue of a busy day.”

  “Sure, and maybe I can invite your team to come beat the stuffing out of whatever team we could put together,” Kari quipped.

  “I find that extraordinarily unlikely,” the demon king returned. “Are you certain you wish to leave now? Or would you like to stay one more night and begin your journey at dawn?”

  Kari glanced at Morduri and shook her head. “No, the sooner I leave, the better. I’ve got things I need to see to at home, so I should get to work. It should only take me a couple of days to reach the Te’Dastras, so if you and Lord Irrasitus wait about a week, that should give me time to put our plan into effect, Your Majesty, and you should hear something in the way of news.”

  Emanitar smirked at Morduri. “I told you she’s learning,” the elestram king said.

  “Take this,” the mallasti monarch said, removing a thick gold band from his finger. “If anyone halts you – most probably a harmauth or erestram patrol – you need only show them this signet ring, and they will let you pass without question. I would wish you luck, Lady Vanador, but I do not believe in it, and my nephew would only counter such a wish with odds.”

  “Go into Sorelizar and paint it red with the blood of Sekassus’ son,” Morduri said. “If you can’t do it yourself, lure him to us as planned, and we’ll all take our vengeance on that whore’s son together.”

  Kari blinked. It was strange enough to hear the contempt behind Emanitar’s words regarding Sekassus and his family. It seemed out of place to hear such vehemence coming from Morduri, but then she had to remind herself that Amnastru had killed Emma’s sister. Morduri was taking that personally, despite Emma’s sister not being family or a lover to him. In the end, Kari simply nodded; she wanted to kill Amnastru for reasons of her own, and anything it gave Emanitar or Morduri in terms of satisfaction would only help accomplish her other goals.

  After a brief stop at the palace to collect her things, Kari set off southwest toward the mallasti village of Ewuaswi. Freshly provisioned, she walked the streets of Rulaj, attracting many a stare, but she reminded herself that it was no different than a mallasti or elestram would receive walking the streets of DarkWind. She had seen that enough times when she walked anywhere with Liria, Se’sasha, or Seanada. The stares here were not hostile or unwelcoming, just curious above all. A rir was so vastly different than a beshathan or even the odd valiras that populated Rulaj and Tess’Vorg in general. And, Kari mused, whenever a rir comes through, trouble probably isn’t far behind.

  The city soon gave way to countryside, and Kari used the remaining daylight to put as many miles behind her as she could. She felt mostly prepared: she didn’t know what to expect once she crossed the border into Sorelizar, but nowadays she could speak infernal and a few phrases of beshathan to introduce herself. She had the pendant of the Great Mother, hand-carved by a mallasti. She had King Emanitar’s signet ring to prove her rights to walk these lands and interact with his people. And, above all, she had the strength of her god flowing through her.

  The night cooled off nicely, and as Kari lay on her bedroll beside a petite fire, she looked up at the stars. It was so reminiscent of her past life, walking back and forth across the continent of Terrassia, and usually alone. She was rarely alone these days, serving as head of the Order, traveling with the Silver Blades, and spending most of her nights in bed with a husband. The last few months had been a difficult change, and Kari found it was hard to transition back to the solo, wandering type she had been for most of her prior life.

  Grakin dominated her thoughts as she stared up at the heavens. Tears made their escape from her eyes, but she was somehow content even in the minute resurgence of grief. Somewhere up there, beyond the stars in the celestial domain of the gods, Grakin was enjoying the desserts of one who spent their life serving others. He was happy, warm, and at peace; Kari remembered at least that much from her own time there, blocked though the memories might be. He was being spared the anguish of longing, content in the knowledge that one day, he and his wife would be together again in some capacity.

  Kari had to console herself with that. She would never hold Grakin again, never lie with him in the throes of passion again in this life. Perhaps the next life would remedy that – that seemed to be a point of contention among the faithful, but one Kari never bothered paying much attention to. She had to live this life, one day at a time, and
Morduri’s advice to her rang loudly in her ears. Grakin was gone, but their love would abide forever. In the here and now, she had the opportunity to build a similar yet unique bond with Kris Jir’tana, and she would be a fool to let that opportunity pass a second time.

  What the afterlife would hold for a woman married to two men was a mystery, but one Kari didn’t need or want to bother thinking about now. When she returned home, she would make her feelings known to Kris more succinctly than even opening her robes to him nearly a week before. If his feelings were the same, she would see where their courtship led. And in all of this, she would yet keep that space in her heart reserved only for Grakin, that his spirit would never leave her.

  Though I’d desperately like to see you again, my love, Kari thought. She hadn’t seen that little hovering ball of light since the day she’d buried Grakin, but a deep part of her soul knew that it was him. He had watched over her in battle, guided her, saved her life even. Their love transcended time and space, and he had remained behind on Citaria even after death until his love was safe again. Now she wondered if he could do the same here on Mehr’Durillia.

  A wolf loped into the edge of her firelight, slowing and then standing at attention across the flames from her. Kari turned and looked behind her into the darkness for any signs of an approaching pack, attempting to catch her unawares. There were no reflections of other eyes in the night, and she turned back to the apparently lone wolf. She nodded absently to it, and the scrawny male dipped his own head before laying down close to the fire’s warmth, and yet a respectful distance away.

  “If you’re a werewolf, you can change forms; it won’t surprise me,” Kari offered, but the wolf simply lifted his head and regarded her curiously. Once she stopped speaking to him, he laid his head back down on his front paws and watched her through the flames.

  You certainly draw all the right people to your side, one way or another.

  Kari recalled Aeligos’ words from their hunt on Terrassia, when he accompanied her to put a stop to Annabelle and Zaliskower’s reign of terror. It seemed as though this wolf was just a wolf, but was it simply the fire that drew it to her? Was there something about her that made Morduri and Emanitar act so congenial and give her so much leeway when she erred in how she addressed them? By all rights, her position as Avatar of Vengeance should set all of the kings, great and small, on edge, and yet she was finding more and more of them wanted to work with her on some level. Certainly, most simply saw her as a tool, but she didn’t get that feeling from Morduri and Emanitar. They seemed to be testing her for bigger and better things, and part of her hoped it was a return to the way things were, once upon a time under Be’shatha.

  Either way, that was a very long-term goal. Even if Kris was right and Kari had been altered to live nearly as long as an erestram, it might take her all of four thousand years to see the Overking deposed and Mehr’Durillia returned to some semblance of freedom and prosperity. For the time being, she had to concentrate on her immediate goals, and hope that with each new victory she achieved, more would be drawn to her just as the wolf lying across from her was drawn to the warmth of a fire.

  Kari was no longer here for vengeance, nor to satisfy a debt to Morduri. She was here to lay the next brick in the foundation of a strategy. She was here to achieve one more victory, and with that draw more allies to her side, whether here on Mehr’Durillia or back home. If the tales that had spread after her meeting with Sekassus had become so far-fetched and embellished, she could only imagine what would happen to tales of her slaying Amnastru.

  Kari looked down at the signet ring she wore, and touched her hand to her breastplate over the spot where Be’shatha’s pendant had settled. She wasn’t here for vengeance or to spite Sekassus. She was here to do something righteous, to defend the weak, to leave one dent in the armor of the kings. She had made Cestriana and the other mallasti of Moskarre a promise, and she was on her way to take care of the first step toward fulfilling that promise.

  She was going to rid Sorelizar of its crown prince.

  She was going to paint it red.

  Chapter VI – Civil Unrest

  A day and a half’s travel brought Kari to the city of Kaatherai, another impressive work of the elestram. She received a cool welcome at first, surrounded by distrustful looks and those cold, impassive stares that the beshathans were known for. Armed with her new ability to speak the infernal tongue, Kari was able to make her way around the city and find out what she needed. She learned its name, where to buy provisions, and even that it was ruled by a three-thousand-year-old erestram named Sharexi.

  It didn’t take much of Kari’s considerable experience to realize that the city was agitated by the rumors of trouble across the border. Kaatherai was close to Sorelizar, enough so that the city had a few syrinthians living in it. That surprised Kari; she didn’t think they were allowed to leave Sorelizar, but then perhaps they had always lived here. Kari was able to pick up tidbits of news despite the fact that most conversations took place in beshathan. There was the occasional chatter in infernal, allowing her to glean some insights, incomplete and out of context as they may have been. She was picking up more and more words in beshathan as well, but without someone to properly translate, she wasn’t certain she knew what the new words meant.

  From the conversations in infernal she was able to eavesdrop on, the mallasti of Ewuaswi were particularly agitated because there was a vulkinastra among their populace. Speculation pointed to King Sekassus making an effort to lure or coerce her across the border, and so soon after his latest murder, it had tensions running high. Kari wondered if vulkinastra were always female, as every one she’d heard of had been. She found it strange that Sekassus had such a vendetta against hyena-folk who were born with an albino coat, but then there was more to it.

  She recalled there was some prophecy he was given regarding a vulkinastra bringing death to his doorstep, leading to his deposition. Aeligos and Typhonix had a discussion some time ago about prophecies coming true because people worked to make them not come to pass, and the irony of the nature of prophecy in general. Kari wasn’t sure she understood what they’d been talking about, but looking at what Sekassus was doing now gave her context to figure it out. The demon king was murdering vulkinastra in the hopes of avoiding his own deposition, when the fact that he kept murdering these girls was likely to cause a rebellion. If that rebellion in turn brought about his deposition, then what Aeligos and Ty had talked about made perfect sense.

  You fool, Kari said. You’re going to bring about your own demise by trying to avoid it.

  With daylight failing, Kari found a hostel in the city to spend the night. She didn’t have much in the way of marks, but she found that things were reasonably priced wherever she went on Mehr’Durillia. She was slowly learning economics thanks to owning a vineyard estate, but she wasn’t sure if the low prices pointed to prosperity or poverty. The engraving beside the hostel’s open front archway stated that it was only 2 marks per night with meals included, and that was fairly cheap to Kari’s thinking.

  There was a mallasti male sweeping out the foyer when Kari entered, and he gave her a cool look when he straightened up. Kari took off her helmet and deliberately scratched at the side of her snout to show off the king’s signet ring. It had exactly the intended effect, as the mallasti’s eyes widened momentarily before his features became much more welcoming. At first, he began speaking in beshathan, but Kari interrupted as politely as she could to tell him that she wasn’t fluent enough to converse in that tongue.

  “You speak infernal, then?” the innkeeper prompted.

  “Yes, please. I only know a few phrases in beshathan so far.”

  “If you will forgive my saying so, it is odd that King Emanitar would have a rir among his staff. What brings you to Kaatherai, emissary?”

  “Just passing through,” Kari answered. “I’d like a room for the night.”

  “You are headed toward Ewuaswi, yes? There were rumors of an assas
sin from across the border attacking the village.”

  “Trying to get at the vulkinastra that lives there?”

  The mallasti nodded and took the offered marks from Kari. “Yes. There have been no reports of casualties, and I believe the assassin was driven off without reaching their quarry. It has only exacerbated the unrest here and across the border.”

  Kari played her hand. “The king has sent me to Ewuaswi to calm the people and also to defend them from further attacks. What do you figure, it’ll take me another day or two to reach the village?”

  The innkeeper nodded again. “Come, let me show you to your room, and I will fix you a hot supper and bring it up when you are settled.”

  “Does the room have a bath chamber?”

  “A small one, but yes. We have running water here, you should be well pleased with it.” He led her to one of the upstairs dormitories and gave her the key after letting her in and showing her around a bit. Once she dropped her pack on a chair, the mallasti left her alone.

  Kari realized she never got the innkeeper’s name, but she didn’t pay it much mind. She looked around her temporary abode, set up like the one she and her friends had shared in Rulaj on their first visit. This one was much smaller in scale, but still had a sitting area, a separate bed chamber, and a bath chamber. In almost any other circumstance, Kari would have immediately taken the opportunity to have a bath, but something felt out of place to her, and she was leery about shedding her armor and weapons.

  The innkeeper returned half an hour later with a tray of food and hot tea. “If there is anything else I can do for you, do not hesitate to ask,” he said.

  “What are relations like with the syrinthians?” Kari asked. The mallasti’s ears twitched, and she elaborated, “Have the people here taken to distrusting them with what’s going on further south and across the border?”

 

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