King's Artesan: Artesans of Albia trilogy (Artesans Series Book 3)

by Cas Peace

  Urged gently by Deshan, Rienne moved forward. The echoes came louder now, originating from somewhere to her left. They were not sobs, as Rienne had first thought. They were far too regular. A heartbeat. Someone else’s heartbeat. She turned toward it, drawn unerringly as if tied by a cord.

  The beats grew louder and faster until Rienne was nearly deafened. Her whole body shuddered in time to the throbbing, her own heart linking to the sound and racing in time. Something odd was happening within her. She could feel the presence of another person, as if someone else besides Deshan had suddenly entered her mind. Yet this was different, more intimate than Deshan’s link with her psyche. This was like being two people inhabiting one body.

  Now Spirit rise up and join all these as one

  The core of our being, of all that we are

  The song returned abruptly, playing like thunder in her ears. She could feel another pair of hands, see through another pair of eyes. Another heart beat inside her breast, and this heart was hurting, fearful and lost. A terrible grief leached out from it, threatening to swamp Rienne’s soul. But Rienne was a healer and knew how to give comfort. She reached out with her own heart, pushing love against the grief, comfort against the loss. Wrapping her psyche around the heart, she calmed its frantic beat.

  The source of all loving, the heart’s labors done

  Gradually, she felt something respond. Something that felt familiar. Not knowing why it was important, she knew she must make physical contact with this presence. It was vital to connect on all levels, not just the metaphysical. She reached out a hand into the pearly light, and gave a soft gasp as fingers appeared, seeking hers. They stretched and touched, and suddenly grasped, holding tightly to Rienne’s hand as if she were a lifeline.

  Drawing on the hand, Rienne saw an arm appear, and then another hand reached out. She took it, the fingers cold but warming as her blood pulsed warmth into the skin. Flawless hands, slender hands with amber skin—she knew whose hands they were.

  When two Spirits join, when two souls sing one song.

  Rienne drew Sullyan’s unresisting body into a close and loving embrace.

  *****

  The men were beginning to fidget. None of Robin’s attempts to break the field had made an impression. He had expected as much and was beginning to despair. He didn’t need this, not now. He didn’t know what else to do. He was going to have to admit defeat, plead ill-health or something, anything, to get out of this with at least a shred of dignity. He just wasn’t strong enough. He didn’t have the will to concentrate, not even to end his humiliation. Slumping with misery, he saw the anguish in Pharikian’s eyes even as he opened his mouth to plead with the man.

  His words never emerged. Pharikian turned his head, frowning as a disturbance sounded at the far end of the parade ground. All heads turned that way, but Robin couldn’t see what was happening. There was noise, lots of it, and for a panicky moment he thought they were under attack, especially when most of the troops on the parade ground suddenly drew their weapons. He couldn’t move because the Firefield was still intact, steadfastly maintained by Blaine even though the General’s attention was also focused on what was happening. Robin was about to call out to him when the people on the parade ground moved back, parting to either side as if a scythe had swung their way.

  Robin gasped when he saw the distinctive translucent shimmer of a portway appear over the parade ground. His blood froze. Who would open a portway this close to people? It was madness. He could see the consternation in Blaine’s eyes, but the General was powerless to oppose the structure while his psyche was caught up in the Firefield. Their only hope was Pharikian.

  He turned to the Hierarch, expecting to feel the man exert his will and prevent the portway from opening. Yet Pharikian had a smile on his face, and Robin’s heart shivered within him. Was it possible …?

  Jerking his eyes back to the spectacle, Robin held his breath. The portway ceased its shimmer and hung immobile, exquisitely controlled with no leakage whatsoever. It would harm no one unless they blundered into it by mistake, and everyone was keeping a very safe distance from it. Then its color changed, bleeding from grey to red, and a figure appeared within it.

  Robin’s throat was so tight it was painful. His lungs pleaded for air, yet he didn’t have the wit to breathe. All his focus yearned toward the portway, all his hope and strength willing this miracle to happen. When Deshan stepped out onto the parade ground, Robin staggered from disappointment. What was Deshan doing there? Then Rienne stepped out, and his whole body tensed. Rienne held someone’s hand, and when another figure appeared dimly through the structure, Robin felt his heart stop completely.

  There was an instant of complete silence when Sullyan emerged from the portway into the sunlight of the parade ground. The structure behind her vanished with a soft sigh of air, and the sigh was replaced by a great clamor of welcome from her company, which quickly spread to the rest of the men. Robin’s heart restarted with a lurch, sending him forward almost into the Firefield. He had to clench his muscles to stop himself being burned. He stood in shock, gasping for breath, while Rienne and Deshan escorted Sullyan through the cheering men and up to the platform.

  She was unsteady on her feet, he could see that, and looked a little dazed, but otherwise she seemed unharmed. Elias and Pharikian approached her and she went down on one knee. Elias moved swiftly to raise her, his hand beneath her elbow to help her stand.

  “Your Majesties, please forgive my late and dramatic entrance. It was not my intention, I assure you.”

  Elias snorted. “Under the circumstances, Major, there is nothing to forgive. We are all very pleased to see you safely returned.”

  Bowing her head, she released his hand and turned to Pharikian. The Hierarch held out his own right hand and she took it in both of hers, pressing it lingeringly to her cheek before kissing the royal amethyst. He said nothing. The moisture in his eyes and the expression on his face told all.

  Completely forgotten by the cheering crowds milling around the Firefield, Robin stood forlorn and stunned. He could not have moved even had he possessed the strength, for it was not permitted to break a test for Mastery without the permission of the senior Artesan present. Fortunately, Pharikian recalled the task at hand. Nodding toward Blaine, he gently alerted Sullyan to what was taking place. She caught Blaine’s eye and smiled at him. He shook his head in relief.

  When she finally faced Robin and met his eyes, the pang of love that shot between them made her sway. It very nearly brought Robin to his knees.

  “Sullyan!” he whispered, stretching out a hand as if he could reach her. His fingertips brushed the Firefield and sparks crackled sharply in the air. He snatched his hand back. “Sullyan!” he pleaded more urgently.

  She was clearly fighting with her own emotions, struggling for breath. In such charged and awkward tension, she did the only thing she could.

  “Captain—oh, your pardon,” she said as she caught sight of the double thunderflash on his breast, “Major Tamsen. I do believe you are under test.”

  Her forced smile begged him to forgive her.

  He was astounded, unable to believe she would prolong his agony. There were murmurs among the crowd, and even Rienne looked concerned. But this was the only way. Doubtless, Sullyan knew Robin would never forgive himself if he failed now.

  Her voice gaining strength, the light of love never leaving her eyes, she said, “You have been set a test, Major. Are you going to let me down?”

  Swallowing painfully, Robin acknowledged his dilemma. He was going to have to complete the test if he wanted to hold her in his arms once more. But he was still in trouble. He really didn’t have the strength, and the shock of her incredible re-appearance had only drained him further.

  “Major,” he said, trying to pitch his voice for her ears alone, “I can’t do it. I couldn’t get the hang of breaking it the way you did. I never have. It just won’t work for me.”

  Cocking her head, she regarded him
. “Oh, Robin, I did not make the rules. I never said you had to do it my way. Find your own path.”

  Her words struck something inside him. For some reason it had never occurred to him that there were other ways to break the field. She had used her hands as a focus for interrupting and dispersing the power, but that had never worked for him. Was there something else that might? He narrowed his eyes in thought, searching for an answer. Then, slowly, he began to smile.

  He held out both hands, palms upward. Drawing on his will, concentrating on the space between his hands, he called forth a shaft of Fire and held it there. Molding it to his will, he forged it until it became a glowing, flaming sword across his hands.

  Sullyan nodded, pride shining in her eyes. “Yes, my love!”

  Taking the hilt of his creation in both hands, he raised it high above his head. He saw Taran grinning, and knew the man recognized the powerful overhead stroke Robin used to bring the fiery blade whistling around him. He wasn’t the only one to let out a joyful cry of triumph as it connected with the Firefield in a shower of sparks, shattering the glowing cage completely.

  *****

  The cheers and roars of approval were deafening. Ignoring them all, Robin broke with protocol again. Without waiting for Pharikian’s formal confirmation, he sprinted for the platform, leaping the steps to gather Sullyan into his arms. Under the circumstances, the Hierarch forgave the new Master his impetuousness.

  Sullyan was fighting for breath when Robin finally released her. Her terrifying experience had drained her, and she was being supported solely by the stubbornness of her will. Her body was trembling with emotion.

  Robin was also unsteady as he stood by her side, his face pale and his heart thumping. He had no breath for speech. To give them time to compose themselves, General Blaine came forward, offering the new Major and Master Artesan his congratulations. Robin shook his hand and returned the General’s grin. Then Blaine turned to Sullyan and laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “You witch! You always did know how to make an entrance.”

  She covered his hand with her own. “Believe me, Mathias, that was one entrance I would much rather not have made.”

  King Elias stepped into her view. “I think we’d better get on with things, my Lord. The … Major looks like she could do with some rest.”

  His slight hesitation made her frown, but his next act stretched her eyes wide. Extending his hand to Blaine, he accepted a rank badge. Then he moved around to face her and spoke in formal tones.

  “Major Brynne Sullyan. For services rendered to the Crown of Albia, both here and in the Fifth Realm of Andaryon, for actions beyond the call of duty, and in recognition of your skills and unwavering loyalty, we hereby accord you the rank of Colonel.”

  To her utter amazement, he pinned a triple-thunderflash rank insignia to the dress jacket she wore. Giving a small gasp, she stared at him. Then, remembering protocol, she saluted as best she could.

  Elias returned her homage with a smile. Lowering his voice so that only she would hear him over the resurgence of cheers from the men, he told her, “There is a matter which we need to discuss privately, but it can wait until you’re stronger.” She bowed her head over his ring, her eyes brimming. “Besides,” he continued, “I believe your ordeal is not yet over.”

  She gave him a puzzled glance. He didn’t speak again, moving away as Blaine and Vassa came over to offer their congratulations. Once they were done, the Hierarch approached her.

  “My child,” he said gently, “I am so very glad to see you returned, but we will share our joy later. Now, there is another matter over which I must preside. You may think it inopportune, and I ask your forgiveness, but this is actually a very appropriate moment. This is your natal day. Twenty-four years ago today, almost to the hour, your mother gave you life. Because of this, all four elements are in concord with your psyche. And so, Brynne Sullyan, Artesan Master-elite, I have decided to set you your final test of Mastery.”

  Robin gasped in protest and stepped forward, but Sullyan waved him back. “No, Robin, his Majesty is right. Today is a very appropriate day. As he says, twenty-four years ago today, I was born. A short while ago, thanks to Deshan and Rienne, I was reborn, for they showed me the way back when I could not find it. And so, this is a doubly special day.”

  She turned back to the Hierarch. “I accept the trial, Majesty. What is your test?”

  Pharikian smiled down at her, approval in his eyes. “It is very simple. I merely require you to demonstrate your Mastery over each of the four elements.”

  Sullyan inclined her head before turning to Robin. “Will you help me? I feel I need a little strength.”

  He frowned as he bent forward to take her arm. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  She gazed up at him, fathomless love warming her soul. With a gentle hand, she caressed his cheek. “It will be alright, Robin. I just need your support for a while, that is all. As I always will.”

  Unable to refuse, Robin lent her some strength. As she moved to the platform railing another crescendo of cheers greeted her and tears came to her eyes. Eventually, an expectant hush fell. Sullyan felt her pupils dilate as she concentrated her will.

  For a moment, nothing happened. Then the massed men on the parade ground began to shift as they realized they could feel a tremor beneath their feet. Horses stamped and snorted. The air in the arena grew hazy, becoming opalescent. Those in the pavilion, and especially those who were Artesans, could see the telltale shimmer of Earth’s puissance rising from the ground, arcing upward to be held in place like a shield over the area. Sunshine slanted through the pearliness, and the men glanced around in amazement. Some even reached out as if they could touch the haze that flowed and shimmered before their eyes.

  Then the air grew moist as Water condensed out of the atmosphere. It didn’t settle on the ground or their clothes—rather it hung over their heads like a dome of droplets, glittering in the sunlight like miniature stars, casting tiny, perfect rainbows through the pearly shimmer. The effect was quite stunning.

  Sullyan breathed deeply, knowing Robin was keeping an eye on her. He held tightly to her arm to support her. She was becoming rapt in her expenditure of power, and ignored the drain on her energies.

  Her pupils were as wide as they could go, and even Pharikian was impressed when she called Fire while still maintaining control over the other two elements. Her Fire came in the form of a myriad of tiny flashes of lightning, sparking within the misty cloud. They shattered the miniature rainbows, which reformed again and again. Sullyan smiled despite the tiny beads of perspiration gathering on her brow. Was it from the strain of being lost in the Veils, or the effects of controlling so much power? She neither knew nor cared. This was glorious.

  A sound began to swell. It started gently, like a sigh, growing in depth and tone until it thundered like a rushing waterfall. The misty dome of Earth and Water began to shimmer, rolling and bulging like some giant bubble. The flags and banners around the arena snapped and streamed as a powerful warm wind caught them. Dust motes swirled among the rainbows, gyring into the air.

  Sullyan closed her eyes, feeling her energy drain. Robin stirred beside her. “Enough!” he hissed. She didn’t reply. She couldn’t afford to break her concentration. She needed to reaffirm her control over her powers, and she needed to experience once more the dizzying elation of glory that only came with testing one’s power to its limits.

  Reaching deep within to her final reserves, she spread her fingers, arms at shoulder height. The wind she had called raced sunwise around her display, spinning the mist, Fire, and Earth-shimmer up into an elegantly twisting column. It reached for the sky, extending hundreds of feet before abruptly snapping upward, vanishing into the blue.

  There was stunned silence. Then her audience burst into wild acclaim, roaring their approval and stamping their feet. Sullyan slumped, panting, caught immediately by Robin. Pharikian, his eyes full of loving admiration, approached her. There was an expr
ession of intense pride on his face.

  To Sullyan’s embarrassment, the Hierarch of Andaryon, Timar Pharikian, Senior Master Artesan, knelt before her and accorded her the brow-lips-heart salute owed to the Mastery she had shown. Then he stood and confirmed her status. Every Artesan present accorded her the same homage and she waved her acknowledgement, her vision blurring with tears.

  Pharikian stepped closer and put an arm around her shoulders. “That was an astonishing display, child. Especially coming so soon after your recent traumatic experience. I will want to hear the details, but first you need to rest and take some sustenance.” He turned to the two men behind him. “Your Majesty, General Blaine, might I suggest we go somewhere more private?”

  The General inclined his head and gestured for Colonel Vassa to lead the way back to the Manor. Elias walked beside Sullyan as Pharikian turned her to follow them, his arm still around her shoulder. “I don’t want the details yet, but I have to ask. Did you succeed in destroying the Staff?”

  She glanced up at him. “Oh yes, the device has been completely destroyed.”

  Nodding in satisfaction, Pharikian led her from the parade ground.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The party walking away from the pavilion spared not one glance for Baron Reen. His presence was clearly not required, and certainly didn’t warrant concern. At any other time this would have caused him severe irritation, but not now. Right now, he could hardly have cared less if no one thought of him ever again.

  He was frozen in place, his hands gripping the back of a chair. He stared at nothing, his eyes wide, mouth agape. A tremble began in his fingers that slowly climbed to his shoulders. As it reached his chest, the thumping of his heart sped up.

  Words echoed around his mind, the woman’s voice scouring his nerves.