by Cat Bruno
With his hands held high and backing away from him, Pietro gasped, “I am a loyal and faithful servant of the Queen’s!”
With the sudden realization that the healer did not trust him, Jarek loudly stated, “I am sure that you are. But, now, you can be more. This is no test or game, Pietro, but I do not have much time. You must choose quickly, for there will be no other chance.”
Again, the healer looked nervously about, as if guards would rush into his room at any moment.
“None can hear us, and none know that I am here,” Jarek told him. “I bring word from someone who you once knew, a man named Kennet who is in need of your help.”
At the mention of the librarian, Pietro further retreated, his face bleached white, as if he had never traveled beyond the castle walls.
More calmly, as if he was speaking to a child, Jarek explained, “Kennet still resides at the Academy and has spent his time in study, more than anyone else I would daresay. But before I say more, I must know if you are willing to help us. If not, I will leave at once and your life as it is will be unaffected.”
“Help whom?” came the croaked words of the healer as he stood pressed against cinder walls.
Growing frustrated, Jarek scolded, “The same ones who you sought to help over fifteen moon years ago! Caryss is dead, but her daughter yet lives, as do the others whom I traveled with.”
Jarek was no fool and realized that he was sharing long-hidden information with Pietro. Yet, even if the healer told Delwin of the conversation, none would believe him once the guards outside his door were questioned, for none saw him enter. Jarek understood Delwin well after so many moon years, and knew that the King would only further punish the healer for his lies, while Jarek would say little and only claim that the healer had gone mad. Tomasz was known as a storm-mage, but none knew that he could time-walk.
“I would help you be gone from here, on the promise that you would seek out Kennet and assist him, for his goals are my own.”
Pietro shook his head from side to side, as if he could not make sense of what he was hearing.
“You would help me escape?” he mouthed.
“Aye. But you must make your way to the Academy.”
“How would I do so undetected?” Pietro asked, his cheeks beginning to redden and his eyes beginning to clear.
Remembering Syrsha’s final suggestion, Jarek told him, “With Caryss’s daughter’s kin.”
“You want me to go with the Tribe?” Pietro cried, his fingers shaking as they attempted to mask his lips.
With a nod and without addressing Pietro’s fears, Jarek said, “The boy is a Wolf, but he is a harmless sort. And he can be trusted, which is what matters most. He will see you to Litusia. Once there, you must tell none who you are and keep yourself hidden, for Delwin will send men looking for you if he does not believe you to be dead.”
“You would kill me?” he cried, the words muffled by whitened hands.
Had Jarek been man and not mirage, he might have grabbed the healer, yet through clenched teeth, he explained, “I will make it look as if you died. And you must not make any believe it to be less than truth. Blaidd, who is cousin to Caryss’s daughter, will escort you, by ship, to the Academy.”
“Why would you help me?”
Without feigning sadness, Jarek answered, “I wish I could have done more on that field. For Caryss. For the others. Even for you. To all in Rexterra, I am nothing more than another guardsman, although Delwin knows of my true skills. I have long waited for the chance to be more. To take what should be mine by birthright.”
It was then that Jarek noticed Pietro’s gaze lock upon his own. And he thought back on their brief time together before Caryss died. The healer had witnessed him call for the storm. But, more, the healer had commented on the gold rims around his sky-tinted eyes. Perhaps for his time as Delwin’s prisoner, Pietro had forgotten. But, now, he remembered.
“Is the King your father?” Pietro whispered.
Silence covered the room as Jarek tried to decide how much to confess.
“Will you help us? Will you help me avenge Caryss’s murder and aid her daughter? If not, I will leave now and never ask again,” Jarek finally told him, silently hoping that Kennet was not wrong to trust the healer, but keeping his father’s identity a secret nonetheless.
When Pietro nodded, Jarek said, “You will not see me again. But when you travel to the estate of the Queen’s parents, an accident will befall you. Your horse will tear apart from the group and lead you toward a cliff just as you near the estate. Fall from your horse when you are far enough away that none will be able to see clearly. Then hide. Your body will be found, battered and bloodied and beyond recognition, in a canyon near the cliff. When the body is removed and all carry on toward Assana’s home, hurry east to the port city of Vesta. It should be an hour walk at most, less if you make haste. A Covian ship, flying a bright flag with a blazing sun upon it, will be waiting. I can offer you no more than that, Pietro.”
Again the healer nodded.
“I will visit you once you have safely arrived in Litusia. Remember to let none see you, Pietro. Even those at the Academy.”
The room grew quiet. And Jarek feared that the healer would change his mind. Yet, soon, he spoke.
“We are kin of sorts, Jarek, and I will do all that you ask. Until then, I will not speak on this.”
With that, Jarek departed, still unsure, but with few other options.
*****
Five moon years prior, the group had relocated to its new building, one that King Delwin had procured for them. Situated near the northern edges of the city limits, it was far enough away from the Grand Palace that the Lightkeepers could meet often without many taking notice. Even now with swelling numbers, the group was given little heed, as it would remain with Crispin now dead, Lerric knew.
For the last moon year, he had served as the Chief Lightkeeper, and although many initially argued that he was too young for the job, few voiced complaints since. Under his watch, their numbers had further increased, and, today, the Lightkeepers Watch could count nearly five-hundred men and women as active members. Only twenty women had earned the ranking of Lightkeeper in the fifteen moon years since they had been permitted to join, but they were awarded full rights.
Tanic, his sister, was one such Lightkeeper, and Lerric searched the second floor for her, finally spotting her chestnut-hued hair falling freely down her yellow tunic outside a small reading room.
Nearing, he called, “Sit with me for a moment, Tanic,” and led her to the back of the room.
The room was empty, but he warded in nonetheless, locking its entrance to all others. His sister noticed, but said nothing, as he knew that she would not. There were few as loyal to him as she. Without Tanic, he might not have become Chief Lightkeeper, and he often relied on her knowledge and skill. While Lerric chanted spells and studied scrolls, Tanic learned more earthly skills. Few could charm and beguile as his sister could.
Dropping into a rough-hewn chair, Lerric sighed, “Prince Delwin has requested that I send him a handful of Lightkeepers to travel with Queen Assana. He has grown worried that the Tribe will attack once she is free from the King’s City.”
His sister, little more than a moon year younger, stared at him with her sand-colored eyes. Much was written there, but she did not speak, for she had long ago mastered listening for what others could not hear.
“I need not tell you that it would be wise if you were one of the five that I sent,” he informed her.
When she smiled at him, he thought of their mother, Tyssa, whom had died when they were both young. Once beautiful and delicate, she had spent moon years as a drunk, and was thin and yellowed when death finally called. Tanic looked much like their mother had in her youth, and Lerric realized that she would be a useful tool to have so near to the throne. She feigned shyness, yet beneath her own prettiness lived a sharp mind.
Softly, as if she was no more than a swallow or finch, she told
him, “Your plans have worked out well, I see. When must I leave?”
Lerric had long coveted an invitation from King Delwin to join the ranks of his closest advisors. He could not yet leave the King’s City, but his sister could, which was nearly better, and he told her so, reminding her of the importance of befriending the queen. For Tanic, the task would be an easy one.
“By all accounts, Assana is little like the King. She is a devoted mother and daughter, with little opinion of her own about Rexterra or Cordisia. She will know little of the Tribe and care only for her children’s safety. You must make it seem as if you want just the same. Talk mostly of womanly things, Tanic, and allow her to think you are Lightkeeper in name only.”
When she would have interrupted, he raised a hand and said, “You have less than a quarter-moon to prepare. Learn all that you can of her and her children. The other four who I choose will be competent, but gruff. It will be you that Queen Assana must come to trust.”
Her gaze suggested that he did not need to further explain, for Tanic understood the importance of the King’s request. For fifteen moon years the Lightkeepers had readied, even though the Tribe had not yet attacked. While the North despaired and the Wolves and Crows battled, Rexterra had grown strong. Soon, the King would have need of the Lightkeepers.
“Is war so near then?” Tanic asked some time later.
As if he was instructing his sister, Lerric slowly explained, “For nearly fifteen moon years, the Northern half of Cordisia has been in strife, through battle and through trade restrictions. As a result, Eirrannia had grown weak and her people hungry and desperate. Word spreads of how Eirrannians no longer dream of their independence and want nothing more than to feed their children. Nearby, in the Tribelands, some have died, although we have no real number of how many remain. Of late, the Wolves and Crows lie dormant, rebuilding perhaps, but chastised and beaten.”
“And still the Bears sleep?” she mumbled in query.
With a heavy sigh and a sweep of his neatly tended hands, Lerric told her, “Aye, yet they have lost none over these moon years. They sleep, but they survive.”
“But will they wake when Rexterra attacks?”
“Only if given reason to, I would think. Delwin is not unwise, Tanic, and he would make a friend of the Bears if their vows proved trustworthy.”
It was only then that his sister gasped with surprise, as he suspected she would. Before she could question him, Lerric tightened the ward further and continued.
“I have learned that he has sent word to the Bears in Edan Lake that a common enemy makes them more ally than foe. He would allow them to return to Concordia Lake if they choose Rexterra over Tribe. I need not tell you that his promise does not sit well with the Lightkeepers’ vows.”
Over the last moon year, Lerric had listened and watched as King Delwin patiently moved his game pieces across Cordisia. With his brother Crispin dead, nearly all had changed, and Delwin no longer had to wait to strike. Lerric was no more than a boy when Delwin’s father, King Herrin, was murdered, but he knew the story well. The frail king’s body was found mauled, as if by an animal, despite having guards outside his tent and a ward encircling it.
Murdered by Wolf had come the cries, but King Delwin had never confirmed them. Instead, he placed blame solely on Eirrannia, which had made little sense to the Lightkeepers.
The King’s death was, Lerric recalled, revenge for the death of an Eirrannian woman who was mother to a newborn Wolf-cub. The woman was killed by a high-ranking Crow, which had led to Tribal war. Lerric knew little of the babe, or what had come of her or those who had escaped the battle. However, there was a boy found that day who was more prize than any had suspected. His identity had long been secret, but Lerric had known of the boy, who was now a man grown, for moon years.
It was a rare moment to come across an Elemental in the halls of the Grand Palace.
Again, he looked to his sister. She was unmarried, yet he was aware that many men, and some of them Lightkeepers, had shown interest in her. It was time that she found a place at the Grand Palace, near enough to the King that she could learn of the man named Tomasz.
“Tanic,” he murmured, “Your task in the coming moons is an important one, even more so than I had once thought. If you become close enough to the Queen, then she will want you near, which will allow you more freedom than any of the Lightkeepers that Delwin employs. He sees us as little more than a safety net, but we must become more if we are to defeat the Tribe. There is a man who masks himself as a simple Guardsman, but you will sense that he is more when you get near enough. He is Elemental-born, although I know not how he came to be in Cordisia. You have a fine face and a smooth smile, and this man is unmarried.”
Her gaze shifted in thought and Lerric added, “I have seen him, sister, and most would think him handsome. He must become friend to us, for there is no stronger weapon against the Tribe than this man.”
Many would not have noticed how her eyes shined, yet Lerric knew his sister well.
“Am I to make him love me?” she asked. “Lerric, you must know how foolish that sounds. What do I have that one such as he would covet? I am no beauty, nor do we come from a royal line. You ask much of me! I have only just accepted that I must befriend the Queen, and now you tell me of this man!”
He insisted that she would be fine. “Within the hour, a woman will be joining us to instruct you on proper hair styling and dress.”
When she paled, he laughed.
“I am a Lightkeeper, and my skills are better served weaving wards and spells, Lerric!”
“Aye, and those skills will be needed one day, Tanic. But I have a greater need of you before then. You do not need to marry this Tomasz, but you must learn of him as you will with the Queen. In a few days hence, Queen Assana makes her way to Ravenfold. With her travels a healer. He was once named traitor and only lives because he is distant kin to King Delwin.”
“Why tell me all of this?” she huffed, examining her auburn-streaked tresses.
His glare was stern as he stated, “Because the healer was there the day King Herrin was killed by the Tribesman. He knows of the babe and of the Elemental. Do you see now why you must go to Ravenfold?”
“So I am to charm this healer as well? How many men must I woo, dear brother?” she snorted, as if her brother joked.
Ignoring her jest, he said, “His name is Pietro, and there is much that you must learn from him. I do not think the King understands how valuable the healer is. He knows more than most of all the players involved, Tanic, which I assume is why he is still prisoner so many moon years later.”
She uttered another complaint, but her words were hushed, as if acceptance had come.
“I will leave you to wait for the companion-woman. Come see me on the morrow to complete the travel arrangements.”
With a flutter of his hand, the ward vanished, and Lerric strode from the room. There was still much to do, but he could not keep the lightness from his step as he bounded down the high-arched stairs. Before the evening was over, he would speak with the other four Lightkeepers who he intended to send with Queen Assana. He had little belief that the Tribe would attack, yet Lerric let the King believe such was possible. In the coming moons, he would not be wrong.
*****
11
“Do you think we will be in Cordisia within the moon year?”
With a heckling snort, he asked, “You think to master hand combat within a few moons, faela?”
His words were sharp and strained, spoken in between swings of his Greatsword as the two sparred under an upcoming sun. He was nearing fifty, yet his muscles were still tight and his aim accurate. To look upon the Islander, most would think him moon years younger. Yet Syrsha recognized a stutter to his strike, as if he was overly tired. For a moment, she, too, hesitated. But he had taught her well, and she lunged with force, cutting her sword from above her shoulder to below her knees.
With a roll, she was upon him, and the blade of
her shortsword pressed sharply against the back of his lower leg.
Grunting, she spun away again until she was standing steps from him, two daggers now in her hands, ready to be thrown.
“Even you must admit that I learn quickly,” she purred.
Syrsha would have laughed, but she knew that he would punish her for such impudence, so she bit at her lip to prevent her lips from curling into the smile that threatened. Around them, the others roused, and she could smell musk deer being seared on the fire. The scent of the smoking meat was enough to distract her, although only briefly for she heard Otieno’s boots thump against the ground as he neared.
“You do not take long to acquire a new skill, but you have trained with weapon since you could walk. It will not come so easy to learn to fight without it,” he warned, tucking the curved blade back into the hardened sheathe.
“But what of my fire?” she countered, tucking her daggers back into small leather pouches tightly attached to her boots.
“Has Aldric not taught you that there will be those who can extinguish it?”
Nodding, she told him, “There will be but few mages strong enough to counter my flame. Even then, it will not last overlong. When first Aldric put out my fire, I could not call it back for days. Now, even he has trouble extinguishing it. I have come far these moon years, more so than even my toughest teacher would care to admit.”
“Perhaps,” he admitted as he wiped dirt from his face.
Syrsha laughed then, knowing that it was as much praise from the master as she would receive.
“I want little more than to test my skills against Jarek,” she added, having thought of him often since her recent visit.
“How fares the boy?”
As the two walked toward the low-burning fire, Syrsha answered, “On the morrow, he will free the healer. Otieno, I do not overly like this plan, I must admit. Was it not this same man whom my mother distrusted during her time at the Academy?”
