The Godswar Saga (Omnibus)

by Jennifer Vale

  “Hello, Tevek,” Gabriel said. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Is it, now?” Tevek asked, struggling to keep his voice calm. Now that he could actually see his old friend in the flesh, his rage threatened to overwhelm him.

  Gabriel’s fake smile vanished, and he turned toward Talroy. “Leave us, Squire.”

  “Of course, my lord,” the young man said, flashing a final apologetic glance to Tevek before leaving the room.

  Once he was gone, Tevek and Gabriel returned to glaring at each other. The new Highlord’s eyes were legendary for their ability to terrorize younger knights and squires, but Tevek wasn’t as easily impressed.

  “I hear congratulations are in order,” Tevek said.

  Gabriel continued to stand despite the empty couch opposite Tevek. For a moment it looked like he was going to pour himself a drink, but instead he remained still.

  “I expected you to be angry,” he said. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “I understand perfectly. The Code obligated you to do what you did. I committed an act of treason against the order, after all, and all crimes need to be punished.”

  The corner of Gabriel’s mouth twitched in the same way it always did when he was irritated and didn’t want to show it. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, old friend.”

  “I wasn’t being sarcastic. That’s exactly why you did what you did, isn’t it?”

  Gabriel sighed and finally walked over to the bar and poured himself a drink. “You were becoming a liability, Tevek. I had always been able to overlook your recklessness until you took that thing with you to Lyebel. The Highlord’s place is to lead, not to throw himself half-cocked on some absurd quest.”

  “That thing?” Tevek replied coldly. “Can you even hear your own words?”

  “She’s an abomination. You know what her people are like, the way they live underground surrounded by demons and heretics.” He scoffed in disgust. “And you taught her all our techniques, all our tricks. She cannot be allowed to teach others.”

  “You mean to spread Maeleon’s word about right and wrong, good and evil?” Tevek asked. “Yes, clearly that’s a terrible danger.”

  “You know exactly what I mean,” Gabriel hissed. “The Dawn’s channeling techniques are sacred, and they have been kept within the order for two thousand years. I am not about to risk letting our most powerful secrets fall into the hands of our enemies.”

  Tevek shook his head. “What happened to you? What has made you so paranoid? Torsia is on the verge of another war and you’re worried about one woman.”

  “I worry about her because of the war. A rogue paladin is more dangerous now than ever before. What if she decides to join the Crell? What if she shares our secrets with them?”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  Gabriel finished his glass and then slammed it down on his desk. “She is an Unbound, Tevek. I know this apparently means nothing to you, but to the rest of the world it means she is dangerous. The Imperium is one of the only places in the world where she could avoid being locked away…where do you think she’ll run first?”

  Tevek snorted. “So first you convince Areekan to start a witch hunt to find her, then you accuse her of trying to run away from you? Unbelievable.”

  “You have allowed your personal feelings for her to override your judgment,” Gabriel said. “Elade is a threat to everyone and everything around her, and I will drag her back to the Citadel in chains if I have to.”

  “You don’t even know her!”

  “I don’t need to. She is an Unbound, and that is enough. She may do right today, but who is to say what she’ll do tomorrow? Who can rein her in when she decides to do wrong?”

  “That’s her choice to make,” Tevek said. “We are all responsible for our own actions.”

  “Please, spare me the platitudes,” Gabriel groaned. “I always hoped you’d grow out of that nonsense someday. If you had, perhaps you would have left her in that dungeon where you found her. Or put her out of her misery once you learned her true nature.”

  Tevek’s mouth fell open. He hardly even recognized the man in front of him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Gabriel took a deep breath and pressed his lips into a thin line. “I am able to see the world for what it is, not for the fantasy you wish it to be. The Unbound are dangerous, Tevek, perhaps even more so than the Crell.” He turned and smiled. “And it is long past time for the Last Dawn to start taking a more active role in the world. We have served at the whims of petty monarchs long enough. By the will of Maeleon and the blessing of the Triumvirate, Obsidian is our world to protect. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

  Tevek bit down on his lip as a cold tingle worked its way down his spine. “What are you planning, Gabriel?”

  “A new age of enlightenment and justice,” the other man said. “I have started by informing the Alliance Council that we will only assist them against the Crell if they are willing to give us something in return.”

  “You mean like the thousands of troops and supplies they assisted us with at Serogar?”

  “I mean authority,” Gabriel explained. “If they want our help, then they need to accept our expertise. Under your leadership, our knights were little more than dogs chasing whatever bones the Council decided to throw at your feet. From now on, we will be the ones making the decisions.”

  Tevek shook his head. “The Last Dawn is about service, not power. We act where we are needed.”

  Gabriel flicked his wrist dismissively. “Like I said, I don’t expect you to understand. The Knights of the Last Dawn are not meant to be servants—we are meant to be leaders. We are the worthy and the righteous, the last blazing light illuminating the world before the fall of darkness. We are the Last Dawn, and the world will follow our example.”

  Tevek shook his head. The man in front of him might have worn his old friend’s face and spoken with his old friend’s voice, but he was not Gabriel Alric.

  Or was he?

  Grimacing, Tevek replayed all the old conversations in his mind. Gabriel had always been a hardened, bitter man, but he had usually done the right thing in the end. Or had he simply been playing along all those years, picking and choosing his battles while he nodded his head at the right times while he waited for the chance to strike? Had Tevek simply been blind to the truth? Had he been naïve to think two men could disagree amicably with each other?

  “Selvhara once told me to watch you closely,” Tevek whispered. “She warned me never to turn my back on you. I never listened to her.”

  “Paint me as the villain all you like if it makes you feel better,” Gabriel said, “but in the end, history will prove me right. It’s time we took center stage and dealt directly with the corruption infesting this world.”

  Tevek closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I won’t let you bring her in.”

  Gabriel snorted. “You’re past the point of idle protests. Maeleon has judged you, and you have no more say in the matter. At least step aside graciously and try to salvage some dignity in your reputation.”

  For a moment, Tevek almost struck him. But of course that’s probably exactly what he wanted, and it would give him all the excuse he needed to lock his old friend in a cell and throw away the key. No, Tevek wasn’t about to make it that easy for him. He still had many friends and a reputation, and Gabriel underestimated him. Tevek might have lost his powers, but that didn’t mean this battle was over.

  He turned on a heel and strode over to the door before glancing back over his shoulder. “I’d wish you luck in the battle,” he said, “but I think you’ll be safe here in this cozy little office of yours.”

  “It is the purpose of a Highlord to lead, not to charge recklessly into battle,” Gabriel said. “It’s a pity you never understood that.”

  “Neither will the men and women under your command,” Tevek said. “You’ll learn that soon enough.”

  He shut the door without waiting for a reply.


  Chapter Nineteen

  “Never trust a naked woman or a well-dressed man.”

  —Galvian saying

  “So he’s not just a bigot; he’s also a fool,” Krystia growled after Tevek told her about Alric.

  “As am I, apparently, for letting all this happen in the first place,” Tevek said, rubbing at his temples. “I don’t wish to worry you, but I figured you should know.”

  “I’d be more worried about Alric—I can be very unpleasant when I’m angry.”

  Tevek cocked an eyebrow at her, but she couldn’t hold her stern face for long. Soon her lips cracked into a wry smile, and they shared a hearty chuckle. He wasn’t even sure Krystia was capable of being angry; she was probably the sweetest young woman he had ever known.

  “I worry that Gabriel will make himself a burden during this war,” Tevek said after a moment. “You and I both know the Alliance will need all the help it can get. Whatever the Sovereigns have planned, this conflict could quickly spiral out of control—especially if they have legions of these ‘Breakers’ waiting around to assault His Majesty’s priests.”

  “You should speak to the king about your concerns. You should warn him about Alric.”

  “I will try, but I’m not sure how accessible he’ll be right now with all the war preparations. Hopefully at least his Voice can spare a few moments for an old friend.”

  Krystia held onto his arm tightly for a while, her head pressed firmly into his shoulder, before finally leaning away and sighing. “There has to be something we can do. There has to be a way to change things.”

  “There are always ways, but they’re rarely quick or satisfying,” Tevek told her. “A decade ago, I convinced myself that the Conclave would eventually realize that the Unbound weren’t monsters…but they never have. Not much has changed here in Solaria, either. I spent a lot of time thinking about that on the trip here. I wondered if things would have been different if I had been more direct.”

  “About Elade?”

  “And you, and the others I’ve known. My goal with you was to make sure you had a good life first, not to make a political statement. And I don’t regret that decision.”

  Krystia smiled again and squeezed him. “You’ve done more for me than I can ever repay.”

  “I just wish it didn’t have to end there.”

  “It won’t,” she promised. “When Areekan’s successor takes the throne, I won’t let him or her forget about what you’ve done for me or other Unbound.”

  Tevek favored her with a worried look. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “You don’t need to worry about me. I have friends in high places, after all.”

  “Speaking of,” he said, holding up her hand, “when are you going to marry this general of yours?”

  “Uh,” Krystia stuttered, her cheeks flushing. “I…I don’t know.”

  “You love him, yes?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then why not ask him?”

  “It’s very personal,” she managed. “And I’m not used to you being so…blunt.”

  “I’m not a paladin anymore,” Tevek said with a shrug. “I think that means I can also dispense with the social graces.”

  She laughed. “We haven’t talked about it much, but I think we’ve both been too preoccupied with all that’s been going on. We’ll have to wait until the war is over, at least.”’

  “Ah.”

  Krystia sank into his arms, and Tevek let out a deep breath as he thought back to all the decisions in his life that had ultimately led him here. As a rule, he had never been fond of regret; it burned a hole in the stomach and little else. Everyone had done something they weren’t proud of at some point in their lives, but dwelling on mistakes was pointless. The sensible course of action was to learn and move on.

  But here things were different: he didn’t regret what he had done. He had placed the lives and safety of those he had saved above political gain. Certainly that was nothing to be ashamed of, especially for a paladin. He was a victim of circumstance and ambition, and that, ultimately, was the root of the problem. He was used to staring down and defeating his enemies blade to blade. He never even considered stabbing them in the back from time to time.

  A knock sounded at her chamber door, and Krystia’s ears perked up. “It’s Darius,” she whispered. “Come in!”

  The door opened and General Iouna stepped in. He looked every bit as haggard as Tevek would expect from a man who had probably been buried in meetings for days.

  “Highlord,” he said with a nod. “I’m glad to see that you are well.”

  “Alive, anyway,” Tevek muttered, standing and shaking the other man’s hand.

  The general smiled tiredly. “I wish you were in that room with us.”

  “So do I,” Tevek said, glancing between them. “For now, I need to speak with the Voice. I’ll leave you two alone.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be eager to discuss your successor,” Darius commented. “Lord Alric had some…interesting suggestions today.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll be able to mediate, but I will make the attempt.” Tevek offered them both a smile and a few parting words, then set out.

  Twenty minutes later, he finally tracked down the man he’d been looking for. The High Priest had retired to his chambers, which unfortunately were nowhere near those of the rest of the clergy—they weren’t even in the same building. Kaeldar lived inside the King’s Tower with his patron, and the halls were crawling with priests, soldiers, councilors, and a seemingly endless entourage of aids and sycophants. Even a man of Tevek’s stature had some trouble parting the crowds in a few places, but fortunately Darius had at least been right about the High Priest: he was in fact very eager to talk to Tevek.

  “His Majesty and I convey our deepest condolences,” the Voice said as he offered Tevek a seat in his lushly decorated quarters. “I wish things had worked out differently between you and the Dawn. I also wish that we could have helped you in some capacity, but I’m sure you understand that our hands are tied.”

  “I understand,” Tevek assured him, “but I also realize you don’t really sympathize with my decisions.”

  The High Priest’s lips curled as if he had just noticed a bad taste in his mouth. “I was hoping the experience hadn’t embittered you.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be bitter; I was simply stating a fact. Though I do admit I find it a bit difficult to accept you joining hands with Gabriel to track down Elade.”

  “It’s been a long day, Tevek,” Kaeldar said tiredly. “I’d rather not spend the night regurgitating a very old debate between us.”

  “Fair enough. From what General Iouna told me, I’m sure Gabriel isn’t making your task easy.”

  Kaeldar sighed. “No, he isn’t. He’s willing to commit the Dawn’s forces to our border defenses, but he is insisting they take a much more active role than normal. He’s also insisting they operate independently of our troops.”

  “He’s convinced our role in the world needs to change,” Tevek explained. “He feels I’ve gotten us too involved in the affairs and policies of others. He’s going to make mistakes because of it.”

  “And I gather he won’t listen to you?”

  “Not anymore. Maybe he never did.” Tevek paused for a long moment. “I’ll be as forward with you as I can. After the battle if things settle down, I plan to find Elade and challenge the Conclave. You may agree with me or you may not, but I’m not looking for your support. What I am looking for is a chance to help you right now.”

  “When I heard what happened, I wondered if you might approach me and ask me to serve as one of the king’s priests,” Kaeldar said. “But I assumed you knew that would be impossible. You aren’t a Solarian citizen, and we can’t validate what you’ve done—”

  “I’m not interested in becoming a priest,” Tevek said, waving a hand. “But I’m sure you’re as worried about this attack as I am. The Crell have something up their sleeves, and we need t
o be ready for whatever they decide to throw at you. I just want to be here and offer my sword in His Majesty’s defense.”

  Kaeldar frowned. “There was a demonic attack in the city two days ago. His Majesty and I have wondered if that is related to the Crell, since we never solved the demon mystery in Lyebel.”

  “Perhaps,” Tevek said. He couldn’t imagine why Ethan would want to try and disrupt his best ally in the cause, but stranger things had happened to men who had made pacts with demons. He might have been a completely different person than before; he might have even been in their thrall by now. “It’s difficult to say with any certainty.”