Empire of Chains (World in Chains Book 1)

by Ryan W. Mueller

  "Crayden?"

  "I left before it was destroyed," Tylen said, fear like a dagger in his chest. By all appearances, the attack on Crayden had been meant to kill everyone.

  Oddly, the Imperial Guard smiled. "Well, whoever trained you did a good job. Your fighting style is a bit too clean, too trained, but there's no doubt you have skill." He stroked his short beard. "There might be a third option for you."

  "What third option?" Tylen asked.

  "Well, someone like you might be a good addition to our ranks. You're skilled with a sword. You don't seem to have any problem with killing when necessary. To be completely honest, we need to boost our numbers a bit. What do you say?"

  "What's the alternative?" Tylen asked.

  "Same as before."

  Tylen took a few deep breaths. "Then I guess there's no choice. I'll join you."

  The man smiled as he held out a gauntleted hand. Tylen shook the hand, wondering with terror what he'd just pledged to do.

  "I'm Commander Enders by the way," the man said. "You can call me Sam, though."

  "Thank you for sparing my life, Sam. You didn't have to do that."

  The commander looked away. "Wouldn't want to see such talent go to waste." He returned Tylen's sword. "Let's get to the garrison."

  Tylen followed, numb with shock. After seeing the destruction of Crayden, the way Imperial Guards had treated the high lord, could he pledge his support to Warrick?

  It was about survival, about giving himself the best life possible. It always had been.

  * * * * *

  Darien sat upon his golden throne, looking down at Captain Enders. "You did well."

  "Thank you, Your Majesty."

  "It was a convincing performance," Darien said, "but now you must make sure you don't fail. Tylen's situation is precarious. I need him firmly on my side, so I need you to take him under your wings. You're one of the more decent men I command. He needs to see that we're not monsters. Otherwise, I fear he will never truly join me."

  "I understand, Your Majesty."

  "You are dismissed."

  Commander Enders turned the corner, leaving Darien alone with his thoughts. Thoughts that grew more troubled every day. No one else could understand how close Darien felt to breaking. He maintained a calm mask, but he felt at times as if he were crumbling.

  Tylen worried him at the moment. Darien had not always intended for Tylen to serve him. That was supposed to have been Markus. But both of them had chosen other paths, and Darien had been forced to adjust.

  Now he wasn't sure he could win Tylen to his side. The farther he looked into Tylen's future, the more dark strands he saw, the more divergent paths he read.

  At some point, Darien would have to accept that he couldn't control everything.

  Chapter 37

  Berig lay on the ground while the others rushed to him. Aric reached him first, dropping his sword and kneeling beside him. Carefully, Aric removed the remainder of Berig's shirt, then examined the scratches.

  "Am I gonna live?" Berig asked, so weak he could barely move. He wanted to fight for life, but that sounded like too much of an effort. Maybe if he just closed his eyes . . .

  No. He'd fought to survive this long. He wouldn't give up now.

  "These scratches are very deep," Aric said, "and I fear they might get infected." He shot a glance at Talia. "Get the bandages. Quickly."

  She disappeared from view while Aric continued examining Berig's chest, shaking his head. Berig gritted his teeth against the stinging pain. A few moments later, Footsteps sounded against the muddy ground. Talia had returned with an armful of medical supplies, accompanied by Farah.

  "Get me the alcohol," Aric said.

  "You don't need to," Farah said.

  Everyone looked at her.

  "I can heal him," she said, as if that were completely normal. She knelt beside Berig and placed her hands on his injured chest.

  "What do you mean?" Aric asked. "Are you saying you can use magic?"

  She nodded, but kept her hands on Berig. Soon Berig's pain dulled. He looked up at Farah in wonder. He'd heard that some people had abilities like this, but he'd always thought those things myths. Warrick had magic, of course, but he was different.

  When she removed her hands, she said, "I've healed the worst of it. Now you can get to work, Aric. He'll still need the wound cleaned and stitched."

  Berig looked up at her. "Thanks."

  She nodded, then strode away silently, a greater mystery than ever. Who was she, and why had she accompanied them?

  Aric examined Berig with a frown. "She did a good job, but you've still got some scratches. If I don't treat them, they'll get infected." He uncorked the alcohol. "This is going to hurt like hell. You ready?"

  "Not really."

  The liquid hit Berig with burning fury. He screamed and writhed on the ground.

  "I'm sorry," Aric said, pouring more on his wounds. After the initial burn, the pain had faded, but Berig still clenched his teeth against it, feeling like he might pass out. Then Aric began stitching up the wound, and the pain became even worse.

  When Aric finished stitching, he wrapped bandages around Berig, who stood on unsteady legs, trying to get the world to stop spinning.

  There was a reason most people didn't go on adventures. Maybe Berig could turn back now and leave the Black Swamp. He could surely find a life in one of the cities. Thieving had been good to him before, and it couldn't be any more dangerous than this insane quest.

  But, no, he couldn't go back to that life. The fire in Crayden had convinced him that he needed to do something more, something that would make a difference.

  What that was, he had no idea.

  "How're you moving?" Aric asked.

  Berig tested out his limbs. It seemed he could move at a normal pace, but if he made any sudden movements, the cuts on his chest flared with pain.

  He shrugged, and winced. "Could be worse, I guess."

  They returned to the campsite. Their dinner had finished cooking, but Berig didn't feel hungry now. Still, he forced some down, knowing he'd need his strength. Everyone expressed relief at his narrow escape and puzzlement at Farah's abilities. Farah herself remained apart from the group. Once again, Captain Davis also seemed quiet.

  Berig sat down next to him. "You okay?"

  "I should have been quicker," the captain said. "You could have died."

  "But I didn't. No harm done."

  Captain Davis shook his head. "I wish I could agree with you, but I'm supposed to be a protector, and I did a pretty poor job of protecting you."

  "It's not your fault," Berig said, but the captain ignored him. With a heavy sigh, Berig gave up. At least he had some idea what was bothering the man. In truth, Berig understood those doubts all too well. He'd failed before, back in his thieving days, and people had been hurt.

  No use thinking about the past, though. Berig focused on his food instead.

  During their meal, Ander made a new rule. No one could go venturing off by themselves again. Berig wished they'd had that rule before.

  He slept poorly that night, his cuts stinging as he rolled over on the soft ground. When he woke the next morning, he felt stiff and sore.

  The swamp seemed unchanging as they walked. Muddy ground. Gnarled trees. Thick mist. Occasionally, they dodged pools of black water as growls sounded in the distance.

  That afternoon, the mist thinned, and Berig prayed they were almost through the swamp. Soon they arrived at an enormous black lake. A broken path of islands crossed the lake.

  "Should we risk it?" Graig asked. "They're close enough together to cross."

  Ander examined the path. "No, we should go around."

  "You sure about that?" Captain Davis asked.

  "Berig won't be able to cross with his injuries," Danica said, "so we all might as well all take the long way."

  "Good point," Aric said, glancing at Berig. "Don't worry that you're slowing us down. The lake shouldn't be that large. It
'll just be another twenty or thirty minutes, if that."

  Berig burned with guilt. He'd sworn he wouldn't slow down the group, and now he was doing just that. What good did he do anyone? He had no skills, no strengths, nothing people like Ander and Aric could use.

  Talia frowned with concern. "Are you okay, Berig?"

  "I'm fine, just thinking. Sorry I'm slowing you down."

  Graig patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. You couldn't have known that cat was going to attack you. You need to take it easy on yourself, Berig."

  That was easier for someone else to say. Berig's only achievement in life was surviving so long. What did they see in him that he didn't?

  "Yeah, I guess I just blame myself too much," he said. "I'll be fine." That was a lie, but he didn't have the energy to argue at the moment. He'd never been much for debating with others. It was easier to accept things as they were.

  Ander led the group to the right around the lake, keeping a safe distance from the black water. Berig, however, kept looking at that water as he traversed the uneven ground. He could have sworn he saw something moving within the lake.

  His stomach churned. "Could there be monsters lurking in the water?"

  "It's possible," Aric said. "All the more reason to keep our distance."

  Berig tried to quell his fears. Surely Ander and Aric would keep everything under control. They were natural leaders. Ander with his ability to take charge and keep the group going when emotions might get in the way. Aric with his calm and reasoned manner, but with a bit more sympathy beneath that exterior.

  In fact, Berig trusted everyone here except Farah, who walked off to the right, where the twisted trees clustered more thickly. She was quite pretty, though, with curly brown hair.

  Graig put a hand on Berig's shoulder. "How're you feeling?"

  Berig grimaced at a sudden movement. "The cuts sting, but I think I'll manage."

  Graig gave Berig a reassuring smile, hanging back beside him. Berig couldn't help but like the bearded merchant. Back in Bradenton, most merchants had shown little concern for Berig, as they were more concerned with making profit. Graig seemed a charitable man, reminding Berig of people like Liam and Gram. The Empire needed more people like Graig.

  Ahead, the trees went right to the shore and were so close together no one could fit between them. Not even Berig. He thought he saw movement in the water again.

  "Did you see anything there?" he asked, turning to Graig, Talia, and Danica. The rest of the group had marched ahead of them.

  Danica squinted toward the water. "I think I might have."

  "I was hoping I was imagining things," Berig said.

  The water churned more fiercely as Berig and the others stopped and stared at it. Moments later, a huge white tentacle emerged.

  Berig's stomach lurched. "What the hell is that?"

  Graig's eyes widened. "I don't know. Let's get out of here."

  They glanced around, but there was no escape with the trees standing so thickly around them. At a loss, they took off running, trying to rejoin the rest of the group. Berig felt searing pain across his chest, but he ignored it.

  The tentacle slithered closer, like the world's largest snake—at least fifty feet long and as wide around as a sturdy tree trunk. Grimacing, Berig increased his pace.

  They kept running, straying dangerously close to the water, the tentacle maybe twenty feet from them. Berig glanced at the others, whose faces had paled. Sweat clung to his forehead.

  Heart pounding, he pushed through the pain and felt as if he'd ripped his stitches open.

  The tentacle reached them and grabbed Graig, who couldn't get his sword out in time. Talia jumped into action, slashing at the tentacle with her sword. The tentacle writhed but didn't release Graig, and she kept attacking it.

  Berig and Danica stood off to the side, looking on with alarm. They both had daggers, but could they do anything against a monster this large? Regardless, he had to try.

  He raced over to Graig and tried to pull the tentacle free, but it wouldn't budge as it dragged Graig toward the black water. Drenched in sweat, chest screaming with pain, Berig slashed at the tentacle. Graig opened his mouth in a silent scream

  The tentacle retracted quickly, and Graig was only feet from the water, struggling against the monster's grip. Berig reached over the tentacle, digging his feet into the muddy ground as he tried to pull Graig free, but nothing slowed the tentacle's progress.

  Graig looked Berig in the eyes, and his voice came out as a croak. "Let go, Berig."

  "I can't!" Berig shouted, tightening his grip, growing closer to the water. His fear and pain didn't matter anymore. He had to save Graig, who'd been so kind to him.

  Talia grabbed on as well, and the tentacle slowed a bit, but they hadn't stopped it. Graig glared at them. "Let go, Talia. You can't save me either."

  Now less than a foot from the black water, Berig made his decision. As much as it pained him, he couldn't die along with Graig. He let go. Beside him, Talia did the same. They fell to the ground and watched helplessly as the tentacle pulled Graig beneath the water and the lake became still once more.

  "I-I can't believe it," Talia said. "He's dead."

  And it was Berig's fault.

  Chapter 38

  Markus awoke early in the morning, his mind racing as it had all night. At the time he'd gone to sleep, Rik's fever was still burning intensely.

  Markus shuffled out into the common room, where Taren sat awake in a large wooden chair, reading by candlelight. Markus tried to sneak past without Taren noticing, and almost made it to the door.

  "I gather you didn't sleep well," Taren said, setting his book down on a battered wooden table.

  "I'm just so worried," Markus said, turning toward Rik's room. Before Markus could take another step, Taren fastened a hand around his arm and directed him to an old chair.

  "I'm curious about you three," Taren said.

  Markus's stomach churned. "We're just three travelers. Nothing to be curious about."

  "I doubt that. The way you act says otherwise."

  "Well, you're mistaken," Markus said, the chair groaning as he shifted. This felt like an interrogation, and Taren suddenly reminded Markus of his uncle.

  The man reached into a leather sack by his feet and pulled out a small scroll that looked oddly familiar. "What is this? I found it in the young lady's things."

  Markus glared at him. "Found it? Sounds more like you stole it."

  He tried to keep the anxiety off his face. Did Taren suspect what the scroll might be?

  "If I'd stolen it, would I be showing it to you?"

  "It doesn't matter," Markus said. "You had no right to go snooping."

  "Relax." Taren handed the scroll back to Markus. "I looked at it, but couldn't make any sense of it. I've never learned Luminian"

  "I still don't trust you. For one thing, you haven't told me how you knew my name."

  Taren leaned back with a relaxed smile. "Well, if you must know, it's because you look a lot like your uncle. You might not think so, but you do."

  "And how do you know my uncle?" Markus asked, though he had the feeling he knew the answer.

  "No point hiding it," Taren said. "I used to work with him."

  Markus forced himself to stay composed. It bothered him that an Imperial Guard had shown interest in the scroll.

  "And do you still work for Warrick?" Markus asked.

  "Well, you might retire, but you never really leave the profession."

  "I still want to know how you recognized me. Yeah, you might know my uncle, but it almost seems like you were expecting me. Tell me the truth. Were you?"

  Taren continued smiling. "I don't have to take orders from you."

  "I'm not ordering, just asking. I mean, what are the chances that you'd recognize me? Even more suspicious, why'd you just happen to have the Miracle Fruit?"

  "I always have some in stock," Taren said. "There's nothing suspicious here."

 
; Markus couldn't read Taren's expression. The man had what Rik would call a good poker face.

  "Then why'd you pick out the scroll?" Markus asked. "We had a lot of other stuff."

  Taren shrugged, maintaining his poker face. "Well, I thought it was interesting."

  "You can lie all you want, but I know you're up to something. I'd bet you're still working for Warrick. You seem like the type."

  "Maybe I am," Taren said. "Or maybe I'm just giving the appearance that I am. After all, it is dangerous to oppose our emperor."

  The chair groaned again as Markus shifted, eyeing Taren coldly. "Fine. I know you're not going to give me any answers. I'm going to check on Rik now."

  "Go ahead. No one's forcing you to stay here."

  But as Markus rose, he felt as if Taren could force people to do anything if he felt in the mood. After a deep breath, Markus eased through Rik's door. Please, God, let him be okay.

  Rik lay in bed, faintly snoring, and Markus put a hand on his shoulder. After a soft groan, Rik opened his eyes, looking around in confusion.

  He lifted his head gingerly. "Markus?"

  "Rik, how're you feeling?"

  Rik sat up. "A lot better, I think. What happened? The last few days all kind of seem like a blur to me. I remember getting stabbed. I vaguely remember walking to Riverside. Then everything gets really foggy." He shrugged. "Guess I pulled through."

  "Yes, you did," Markus said. Then he recounted everything that had happened. Gradually, Rik's memories returned, but he said they remained fuzzy. His skin also felt normal again.

  "I've never heard of these Miracle Fruits," Rik said.

  "I hadn't either."

  "This Taren guy sounds a little suspicious."

  "Yeah, we need to be careful," Markus said. "The sooner we get out of here, the better."

  "Let me see if I can stand." Rik placed his feet on the floor, then tested his strength. At first, he wavered, but then his legs steadied. "Well, I've certainly felt better, but this is a good sign. I should have my strength back soon."

  Markus put an arm around Rik's shoulders. "You can't imagine how glad I am to know you're going to make it. These last few days were terrible. I can't lose you, Rik."