An Empire in Runes (The Runes of Issalia Book 3)

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  Having traveled for an hour after leaving Selbin, Cassius knew he was near his next stop. Brock had done his best to describe the location, and Cassius would do his best to find it. They rounded a bend and a break in the thick trees revealed a field north of the road. Cassius slowed and gazed across the glade, studying the small brown farmhouse at the far edge of the field.

  “Let’s keep going, the path to the farmhouse must be ahead,” Cassius said as he resumed his pace.

  They traveled another quarter-mile before a trail cutting through the trees appeared to the right, barely wide enough for a wagon. Cassius stopped before the trail and turned toward his companions.

  “Everyone wait here. I’ll just be a few minutes.” He looked at his sons. “You two can come with me. This might help to get your heads screwed on straight.”

  The two boys looked at each other and shrugged. Cassius grunted and turned to lead them down the narrow path.

  After a hundred feet, the trees gave way to the open field he had spotted earlier. A split-rail fence, grey and weathered, surrounded the field on one side of the road while rows of plowed dirt spread across the other side.

  They crossed the wide space and approached the house in silence, the usual banter from the two boys nowhere to be found. Cassius held his hand before the worn door, pausing as he took a breath to fortify his resolve. He knocked twice and waited.

  He heard a woman’s voice from inside. “Just a moment.”

  Sounds of shuffling upon a wooden floor came from within. The knob turned and the door swung open to reveal a heavy-set middle-aged woman. At nearly six-feet tall, the woman had a head of dark curly hair and wore a brown dress covered by a dirty apron that was once white. The woman smiled.

  “Hello, sirs. What can I do for you?”

  Cassius smiled in return. “I’m looking for Mister and Misses Merling.”

  “That’s me,” she nodded, “and my husband is inside eating lunch.”

  “May we come inside, ma’am?” Cassius asked. “We’ve some news about your son, Lars.”

  The woman’s smile faltered, her eyes shifting from Cassius to the twins. Her face grew pale when her gaze fell on the boys, the grim look on their faces conveying the gravity of the message.

  Cassius understood why Brock had asked him to make this visit. He would want to know if it were any of his children.

  “Your son is a hero, ma’am. He helped to save the lives of thousands.” Cassius gripped her limp hand and flipped it over to place a coin purse in her palm. “This is the reward for his courage and brave actions. The King of Torinland thanks you.”

  The woman appeared to be in shock, staring at the pouch in her hand.

  A man appeared from within the house, putting an arm about the woman when he reached the door.

  “What’s this about, Floris?”

  The woman did not respond, her eyes staring blankly at the coin purse.

  “Mister Merling, I’ve grave news about your son.” Cassius swallowed hard. “He was killed in battle.”

  The woman screamed, “Lars!”

  She collapsed against the man as he struggled to hold her up. She slid down his body until her knees hit the floor, weeping hysterically as he held her head against his torso.

  “This better not be some cruel joke.” The man grumbled.

  Cassius wiped his eye dry. “I wish it were a joke, good sir.” He nodded his head. “If you ever need anything, come to Nor Torin and ask for King Cassius.”

  “King?” the man asked, still holding his distraught wife. “There hasn’t been a king here in centuries.”

  “Things change, good sir.” Cassius gave the man a small bow and turned from the doorway. “Things change,” he mumbled as he led the twins from the Merling household.

  More tears found their way down his cheek as he heard screams of sorrow from the woman. Even when they returned to the road, Cassius could hear the screams, screams that would haunt his dreams.

  * * *

  Cam could feel them watching. In fact, he had felt it for hours. He couldn’t see anyone, but he was positive that they could see him. Sure as the sunrise, they were watching.

  Squeezing with his thigh, Cam nudged Scavenger toward the canyon mouth. His gaze scanned the canyon walls, hoping he had found the one he was seeking after three fruitless attempts. Cam noticed the low angle of the sun, sparking frustration as it reminded him that he had wasted most of the day searching the wrong canyons.

  A Tantarri warrior stepped out from behind a boulder, holding her palm toward Cam.

  “Stop here, Outlander,” she commanded.

  Cam tugged on Scavenger’s mane, and the horse came to a stop.

  “Thank, Issal,” Cam said. “I’m glad one of you finally showed yourself.”

  Not saying anything, the Tantarri raised one eyebrow in question, causing wrinkles to appear on the front of her shaved head.

  “I’ve been looking for Mondomi all day.”

  The Tantarri appeared alarmed, her eyes widening.

  Cam rushed to calm her. “Don’t worry. I’m a friend, just looking for Puri. She asked me to come...come find her.”

  The Tantarri’s eyes narrowed with a hard glare. She then whistled, the high-pitched echo ringing in the narrow canyon.

  The rumble of hooves followed and six horses with five riders appeared from around the bend ahead. The horses quickly closed the distance and slowed to stop behind the Tantarri woman.

  Without pause, she climbed atop her horse and waved at Cam. “Follow.”

  He nodded and kicked Scavenger into a trot, trailing after the woman’s horse. The other five riders followed close behind Cam, likely to keep an eye on him.

  Shortly after rounding the bend, her horse angled up the rocky side of a small hill. Cam followed her, not noticing the trail along the canyon wall until he was upon it. They rode up the narrow trail as it rose above the canyon floor and toward his destination. Cam glanced down, feeling a bit dizzy by the drop beyond the narrow path.

  They reached the top, and the trail turned as it entered the mouth of a large cave. Once inside the cave, the leader stopped and dismounted. Cam did the same, glancing down the long tunnel that led to Viridian. He recalled his last visit to the lush valley, thinking that it was the most beautiful place he had ever seen.

  “Come along.” The Tantarri woman said as she entered a side tunnel.

  Cam followed her, ignoring the images and scenes scrawled on the tunnel walls. He focused on the purpose of his visit and on what was at stake. A pang of queasiness rumbled within his stomach as anxiety began to boil.

  They emerged into a large cavern that Cam had come to know as the receiving hall.

  “Wait here,” the Tantarri woman said before continuing into a tunnel opening across the chamber.

  Cam glanced backward and found the other warriors spread into a half-circle behind him. Although nobody had taken Cam’s sword, the warriors remained ready to attack at any sign of aggression.

  As he turned his head, Cam’s gaze fell on another tunnel entrance, the tunnel that led to the pit. The last time he had entered this chamber, the Tantarri had put him and his friends in the pit to await execution. It’s funny how things change, he thought.

  A noise from the tunnel ahead drew his attention. The female warrior who had guided him to Mondomi emerged and stepped aside. A moment later, another woman emerged.

  Puri appeared more beautiful than ever, having added a jewel-encrusted headband and a multi-colored cape to her usual form-fitting black leather outfit. She crossed the room and stopped a stride away from Cam.

 
“Hello, Puri.” Cam said with a small bow as he kept his emotions in check.

  She returned his bow. “Cameron. It is good to see you.”

  He nodded. “And you as well. It appears that you are now Head of the Clans?”

  She gave a slight nod. “Yes. Head Clanswoman. The first, although not without contention. Some of the…more traditional leaders fought to place a man in the role instead. Thankfully Yuranni supported me and his guidance holds much import among the clans.”

  “I’m happy for you.” Cam replied. “I have come with a missive for the Tantarri. Since you now lead them, I will convey the message to you now if you feel it’s appropriate.”

  Puri nodded. “Now is good. I have no secrets to hide from my people.”

  Cam took a breath, preparing his words. “The Tantarri must know that the Empire is no more and that the leaders who declared war on the Tantarri have been removed. Replacing the Empire will be an alliance of nations where each will have its own rules, army, and will be free to operate as they see fit such that they do not impose themselves on another nation. Designed to encourage free trade while discouraging aggression or attempts to change nation borders, the alliance is intended to ensure peace and prosperity.”

  Cam hesitated before adding, “However, this alliance of nations is considered incomplete without the inclusion of the Tantarri. I have a copy of the Treaty of Issalia, which the Tantarri can review and sign should they wish to join this alliance.”

  The room fell quiet, nobody moving or speaking as they waited for Puri’s response.

  Puri then smiled. “Of all possible outcomes, this is what my father would have most desired. I will meet with the clan leaders so they can weigh in, but I will strongly advise that we join this alliance in the best interest of the Tantarri people.”

  Although Puri had responded as Cam expected, he felt relieved. “Very well,” he said, trying to maintain a calm coolness.

  Puri’s smile faltered, her eyes growing serious. “Is this why you’ve come to Mondomi? To offer a treaty?”

  He swallowed hard as his anxiety began to boil over. His hand strayed to the hilt of his sword, touching the cool metal of the pommel. A commotion arose behind him as the Tantarri warriors drew their weapons. Cam raised his hands above his head and slowly turned toward them.

  “I mean no harm. I wasn’t going to draw my sword. I was just…just gathering my…courage,” he stammered. “It’s a habit I guess. Touching my sword helps…when I feel afraid.”

  “What are you afraid of, Cameron?” Puri asked.

  He turned toward her, finding her appearance simultaneously fierce, yet gorgeous. His hands remained above his head as he replied.

  “I’m afraid…that if I ask you to be my wife…you might say no.” At the end of the sentence, his eyes drifted to the floor.

  Puri took a step closer and put her fingers under his chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Are you asking for my hand in marriage?”

  Cam glanced toward the female Tantarri who led his escort and found her staring at him with one brow raised. Having the audience made him feel less sure of himself.

  “Well…yes,” he replied.

  Puri lunged for Cam, embracing him and pulling his head down until her lips met his. Cam stiffened in surprise before melting into the kiss. His arms lowered until his hands were on Puri’s lower back and remained there when the kiss ended. She leaned back and stared into his eyes with a grin.

  “Yes, I will marry you, Cameron.” Her smile faltered. “However, you must understand that I am responsible to my people and that responsibility must come first.”

  Cam swallowed hard, trying to remain focused despite the rush he felt from her embrace. “I understand. If you felt any other way, you wouldn’t be the woman I’ve grown to love.”

  Puri smiled again and pulled his head down until their lips met.

  CHAPTER 45

  Milan Tannerson pulled the hide from the lime bath, shaking the excess liquid from the skin before laying it on the workbench. He grabbed his blade and began scraping the hair from the skin, the follicles shedding easily after the alkali treatment.

  “Where is that boy?” Milan muttered. “He should be down here by now.”

  The rumble of footsteps drew his attention, his eyes flicking to the stairwell. A sixteen year-old boy emerged, his twisted nest of dark hair making it apparent that he just had woken and hastily ran down from the loft.

  “Sorry, Master Tannerson.” Oliver blurted. “I overslept again.”

  Milan’s focus shifted back to the hide he was scudding, the brown hair piling onto the dirt floor of the tannery. He sighed, unable to hide the frustration he felt at the boy’s inability to stay on task, any task, even waking on time.

  “Oliver, you’ve got to focus and maintain some level of organization. You cannot allow chaos to rule your life.” He took a calming breath, feeling as if he repeated the same message on a daily basis. “Go grab your breakfast, but be quick. There is much to do. We are behind this month and have extra debt to recover.”

  From the corner of his eye, Milan could see the boy still standing in the spot, kneading his hands and biting his lip.

  “Again, I’m sorry, sir.” Oliver was apologetic. He was always apologizing for something because he always had something to apologize for. “I’ll never again forget to dip the hides in brine before using the acid. I promise.”

  Rather than respond, Milan grunted. His thoughts drifted to the incident, which occurred when he had stepped out for an hour to set the latest hide pricing with Melvin. When he returned from the cobbler’s shop, he found two silver’s worth of hides ruined.

  Realizing that Oliver still hadn’t moved, Melvin addressed him again.

  “As long as you learn and don’t repeat the mistake, the lesson will be worth the price.” Milan pointed toward the door to the apartment behind the tannery. “Now, go eat.”

  With a grin, Oliver nodded and darted to the door, his lanky legs crossing the floor in three strides. When he slid through the door, Milan shook his head again.

  “That idiot boy will be the end of me, I swear it,” he muttered. “I can’t believe I thought Brock was bad.”

  Upon mentioning Brock, Milan’s thoughts drifted to his son. Before Brock left, Milan had little concern that he would miss the boy. Brock’s resemblance to Emily had been a constant reminder of how much Milan missed his wife. However, without Brock around, he found that he missed her more than ever. Despite Brock’s issues, his absence left Milan feeling even lonelier.

  A heavy knock sounded on front door. Milan was about to call Oliver to answer the door, but the words stopped just shy of leaving his lips. With a sigh, he set the dull knife on the table and tore off his thick gloves. Wiping his sweaty hands on his smock, he crossed the shop to greet the newcomer.

  Milan opened the door to find two city guards waiting. One guard matched Milan’s age and height, but with an even stockier build. The other guard was at least a decade younger and stood a full head taller than his companion. The younger guard had his hand over his nose, pinching it to avoid the odor of Flower Street.

  “Hello, sirs,” Milan said. “What can I do for you?”

  The shorter of the two guards nodded, his balding pate gleaming in the morning sunlight.

  “We’re looking for Milan Tannerson,” the guard replied. “We were told that he runs a tannery on this street.”

  “Well, you’ve found him,” Milan responded. “What’s this about?”

  The guard reached into his jerkin and removed a folded piece of paper. “Can you read Mister Tannerson?” the man asked as he held the paper out toward Milan.
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  Milan looked at the paper, his brow furrowing. “Yes, a fair bit at least.”

  “Good,” the guard said. “Take this and present it when you arrive at the Citadel.”

  “The Citadel?” Milan muttered as he accepted the paper.

  “Yes. We are to notify everyone to appear at the Citadel at noon.” The guard smiled. “The Empire no longer exists. Kantaria is now a kingdom. Come at noon to meet your new king.”

  With that, the guards turned and walked away. Confused, Milan watched them as the two men moved on to visit Bart, the smelter who lived next door to the tannery. When the guards approached Bart’s door and knocked, Milan broke from his reverie.

  Stepping back into the tannery, Milan shook his head in wonder. What had occurred to cause such a drastic shift in the world? The Empire had been around for two hundred years and suddenly, it was no more? Kantaria was a kingdom for the first time in centuries. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? he wondered.

  The apartment opened, and Oliver shuffled out. Milan glanced at the boy, noticing that Oliver’s shirt had a glob of porridge on the chest.

  “Who was that?” Oliver asked.

  “It was city guards.” Milan said in a tone of wonder. “Apparently we are to be at the Citadel at noon. They are going to introduce our new king.”

  * * *

  Milan’s stomach fluttered as he led Oliver through Upper Kantar. Ahead, the Citadel loomed, its pale towers gleaming in the mid-day sunlight. Milan rarely visited Upper Kantar and had only entered the Citadel once in all of his thirty-eight years. He felt out of place in both districts, with the Citadel seeming far above one of his station.

  The crowd around him steadily thickened as he neared the wall that divided the Citadel from Upper Kantar. With Oliver close behind, Milan shuffled through the gate and into the square that spanned the space between the wall and the buildings.