by Terah Edun
“Trust me,” Vana said flatly, “it was a fight to death for her to become Head Pro Tempore of the guild. She has had her finger in every piece of our imperial pie since she was born in the guild hall sauna room.”
“Another companion’s early-born daughter?” Sebastian asked softly.
“A serving girl’s bastard that she tried to hide, which made her hemorrhage on the sauna floor,” Vana said without a touch of sympathy. “The girl lived but caught an infection soon after. The child was raised by the guild.”
“That’s horrible!” said Ciardis.
“Raising an orphan or the premature death of the mother?” said Vana dryly.
“The latter!”
Vana shrugged. “From what I heard the mother was an idiot. And from the moment Melina could talk all she wanted to do was join the guild. Once she got her membership she caused more mayhem than you did and that’s saying something.”
Sebastian choked off a laughing cough. Ciardis turned her glare on him.
“What happened to her?” Thanar asked lazily.
“The guild didn’t want to get rid of her. So they arranged a patronage with an entire community figuring she’d quit after a year was up but she stayed. Apparently the high plains of the west grew on her. Something about being one with nature. Not that it stopped her from being an interfering busybody. Now, moving on...”
Vana turned to Ciardis and pinned her with a glare. “What did she say to you? We don’t have much time.”
Sebastian leaned forward on his knees with an interested look. Even Thanar turned his lazy gaze to peer at her face.
Finally Ciardis said, “She said the key to defeating the blutgott was in Kifar and a member of her tribe knows where.”
Vana blinked and said seriously. “And how in the hell would she know that?”
Sebastian sat back with his arms crossed displeased. “Or even about the blutgott. We didn’t bring it up.”
“Even though we meant to,” Ciardis said.
“Yes, but as you saw we had a lot on our plate already. So how did she know?”
Ciardis shrugged. “She mentioned visions. That her people saw it coming. That she wanted to help.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Thanar softly.
She ignored him. He wouldn’t want to help anyway. In fact he might even try to sabotage their efforts.
Vana reached out with a swift foot and kicked Thanar square in the thigh.
He turned angry carnelian eyes on her.
She snarled right back. “Enough of your bullshit. You serve this god, we know that.” Ciardis’s ears perked up; it was if Vana had read her mind.
“But,” said Vana, “you also want to stay alive. The blutgott can’t bring you back from the dead when you perish after a certain someone dies on the front lines.”
Thanar sat up, attentive now. “What would you know about that?”
His voice was soft and dangerous.
Vana gave him a smile that was just as deadly as his voice. A promise of violence was on her lips. The entire temperature inside the carriage dropped five degrees while Ciardis wondered nervously if the assassin mage and daemoni prince were going to have it out in the confines of a twelve-foot box.
“Let it go,” cautioned Sebastian with an upraised hand. “Whatever this is—just let it go.”
Ciardis swallowed nervously because they were talking about her. Sebastian just didn’t know yet. Hell, she’d just found out about the seeleverbindung connection between herself and Thanar a few hours ago. There was no time to tell Sebastian and no way in hell she was going to do it today anyway. Too much rode on them being united for her to jeopardize their relationship with a revelation. It’s not that she didn’t trust Sebastian, but she was well aware he could be a temperamental idiot when the feeling suited him.
Vana spoke as if Sebastian and Ciardis weren’t even there. Her voice was cold like ice. “I know quite enough. My title is Cloudbreaker for a reason. I can see through fabrications to the true core of the problem. You Thanar are the problem.”
This did not sound good. Ciardis opened her mouth to speak and Vana cut her eyes to her sharply enough that it froze her in mid-movement. She shrank back. Let the crazy assassin and daemoni prince work things out their way, then.
“If I am, so is my friend,” said Thanar in a dangerously lazy voice that didn’t hide the fact that he could easily spring into action and murder them all with a flick of the wrist.
Vana smiled. “But you see that’s what am I getting at. They die. You die. See your problem?”
Sebastian looked at the two occupants on the left side of the carriage as if they were insane. He looked over with alarm on his face. Ciardis shook her head mutely, saying she had no idea, when really she would give her right arm not to be forced to talk about it.
Thanar said, “You know I’ve never really liked you. I won’t interfere with your plans but neither will I help implement them. I will simply be a silent observer.”
“Do you promise on the souls of your forefathers?” This came from Sebastian in an eager tone.
Thanar turned lazy eyes on him and then finally said, “By the blood of my blood, I swear it is so.”
Sebastian leaned back with a weak grin and a look as if war had been averted. “Whoever this person is that you’re protecting...they must be very special to you.”
“Very,” said the daemoni prince.
Ciardis blinked away moisture in her eyes and stared hard out of the carriage window so that no one could see. She called them stress tears because she was worried about the next convening. Yes, that was it.
Behind her Vana’s voice echoed in the carriage. “Your neutrality is appreciated, but I’ll kill you the moment I find out you’ve broken your word.”
Thanar said, “If I did, I would burn in the fires of daemoni kind for eternity. A daemoni blood promise is never broken. But just so you know, if you step one foot out of place I will happily gut you from navel to chin.”
Ciardis shivered at the tone of his voice. To think she had been hoping they might be beginning to like each other. Or tolerate each other. Tolerance would have been nice.
She didn’t turn around until their carriage pulled into a new courtyard and she had her facial expression mastered again. They all exited the tense carriage without a further word. Besides they had less than two minutes to get inside before the session begun or they would be fashionably late and this was the kind of setting that Ciardis didn’t think took well to latecomers. Sebastian and Ciardis linked hands for their third meeting with one of the most powerful groups in the empire in the same day and walked forward. Vana paced to Ciardis’s left. Thanar to Ciardis’s right.
When they walked in, Ciardis let out a grumble. The nobles’ court was meeting in a room very similar to the one her mother’s trial had been held in. Except there was no dais. There was however a podium in the center of the room. The podium was a perfectly round platform with a magistrate’s railing surrounding it with a small entrance near the front. Radiating out from the podium were benches that were arranged in a staggered layout that rose higher and higher to the ceiling. Every seat was full, but it didn’t matter because Ciardis could tell from the expectant looks on the faces surrounding them that she and Sebastian weren’t guests. They were the main entertainment and they had finally arrived.
One man in wealthy mages rose stood in the open arena surrounding the podium. He’d been conversing with a skinny gentleman with brown hair and a sallow face, before he saw them walking in. Turning from his companion with a bow, the noble walked toward the four of them with ground-eating strides. Ciardis was suddenly glad Vana and Thanar were at their backs.
The entire group might feud in the carriage, but before their foes they were a united threat. Vana and Thanar took a step in front of the prince heir and the companion to emphasize that.
The man paused a few feet away from them. Not out of fear but calculation. His eyes swept from left to right in a calculating look.
Taking them all in one by one.
“My, my, Ciardis Weathervane,” he said coldly. “I had heard that you brought a tame daemoni and pet assassin to the court, but to see it with my own eyes. I never thought I’d see the day.”
Ciardis stiffened at his tone. “Daemoni Prince Thanar and Lady Companion Vana Cloudbreaker are not my pet anything and I’d ask you to mind your manners, but from that introduction I very much doubt you have any.”
He turned a cold glare on Ciardis and for the first time she noticed a scar bisecting the flesh above and below his right eye. Like a claw mark drawn through his flesh. On anyone else it might have looked debonair, but on him it looked evil and chilling.
His mouth in a thin line. “I also see that tales of your impertinence have not been deceptive, either.”
Sebastian stepped forward. “Lord Gareth, if you have something to say other than insults, please do so. But if you’re here to just insult my friends, than please step aside. I believe we have the floor?”
Lord Gareth bared his teeth into a smile. “I believe you do, Prince Heir. But one word of warning. No one brings friends here. They bring conspirators. That has always been your downfall, too gullible, too weak, and too naïve to do what needs to be done.”
“Oh, you mistake me, Lord Gareth, for the weakling you once knew,” Sebastian said with a fierce look in his eyes, “You once sent your son to kill me in the Aether Realm. You should have done a man’s work and done it yourself.”
Lord Gareth said snidely, “From the rumors that abound, that problem will be taken care of shortly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Ciardis with her fists clenched.
“It means, whore, that his father won’t be around to protect the poor, pallid prince for much longer.”
Ciardis wasn’t sure if was the memory of his father that triggered Sebastian’s rage or the man calling her an unbecoming name, but the prince heir lashed out. With the strength gained from training with his soldiers on the field of battle and the anger of a young man’s fierce rage, he balled his hand into a fist and hit Lord Gareth directly in the face.
The man flew back to the ground with his long golden hair flying around his face. When he sat up, blood was running down his face, cold rage was in his eyes, and Ciardis was sure his nose was broken.
“You’ll pay for that, boy,” the downed man said.
“Take it up with my father,” snarled the prince heir as he guided Ciardis past the man.
Ciardis heard Lord Gareth get up with a yell of rage. Sebastian whirled so quickly and pushed Ciardis into Thanar’s arms so fast that she didn’t see what happened next. All she knew was that from one moment to next Lord Gareth had summoned a sword into his hands and Sebastian was parrying his blows with dexterity.
Still Ciardis worried. “Vana,” she shrieked. “Do something.”
Vana stood beside Thanar with Ciardis in the protective circle of his wings. She had a knife in either hand.
She shook her head. “Not unless someone else stupidly gets involved. This is his fight.”
Vana was looking directly at two servants who looked like they were about to rush into the arena to help their master. Catching Vana’s deadly gaze they each held up their hands and slowly backed away.
Meanwhile, Ciardis focused on Sebastian trading sword blow for sword blow with the arrogant lord.
“He’s a titled lord, isn’t he?” she asked.
Without turning around Vana said, “Yes, one of the most influential, as well.”
“If Sebastian wins this fight, will it be important?”
“If he wins,” said Thanar quietly while he put a protective hand on her right shoulder, “it means respect. Respect from his peers. Respect from the nobles who might join your cause.”
Ciardis nodded. “Then I hope he trounces him and then tears his bloody head off. There’s nothing like a beheading to gain respect.”
“I think you mean instill fear,” said Thanar with a laugh.
“In the case of these monsters, I think they need a little fear,” Ciardis said darkly. She became aware of the steady chant of excited voices a minute after Sebastian and Gareth engaged in battle. The nobles were watching the swordfight like a spectator sport. Whenever a blade connected with skin and blood emerged, they screamed. They weren’t interested in a winner or a loser, all they wanted was blood.
Like ravenous wolves, thought Ciardis darkly. Looking for their next feeding.
It disgusted her.
The floor of the arena was tile. Slippery and not meant for a fight. Several times Sebastian whirled and she feared he would go down tumbling, but he just came back faster and stronger.
He’s toying with him, she realized.
Yes, Sebastian is the better fighter, said Thanar softly. It’s been too long since Lord Gareth’s seen an arena and even longer since he’s fought for his life.
“Then why is this taking so long?” Ciardis asked.
Vana said, “The fight?”
“Yes,” said Ciardis grumpily. “If Sebastian is clearly the better swordfighter, why did he let Gareth score points?”
“Watch the crowd, Weathervane. Watch and learn,” Vana commented.
Ciardis stepped forward until she was half in and half out of the protective shield of leathery wings that Thanar provided. Then she looked. Truly looked at the crowds surrounding them. She tuned out the noise and chants. Disassociated herself from their body language, their fists in the air, their jumping up and slumping down. Then she took in the anger in their faces. Their disbelief. Their shock.
“They didn’t think he’d lose,” she whispered silently to herself.
“No, they didn’t,” said Thanar with some admiration in his voice. “Sebastian played them like a fiddle. Made them think rage would make him foolish. Allowed them to guess that his inexperience would make him easy pickings. Even gave Lord Gareth a chance or two to get a nick in on his skin. But now this ends.”
“Now he’s going in for the kill,” Ciardis solemnly as she watched Sebastian do just that.
With a lunge and backward pull, Sebastian sent Lord Gareth’s sword flying and disarmed him. With the tip of sword at the base of the man’s throat, Sebastian forced him to his knees.
Pale hatred crossed Lord Gareth’s face. Then he did the last thing he could do to salvage his pride. Amplifying his voice with his mage gift, he projected to the crowds his last request as he said, “Kill me.”
Sebastian stepped back to shocked silence all around the arena. He tapped into Lord Gareth’s power and they all heard him say, “No, live with your defeat.”
Then Sebastian walked back to his three friends. Anyone who had been standing in the maudlin hope that Lord Gareth would salvage the day and defeat the prince heir slunk back into their seats slowly.
When Sebastian reached Ciardis she hurried from between Thanar’s wings and kissed him fiercely on the lips. “You foolish man.”
Sebastian’s lips moved into a smile. “It was worth it to see the defeat on the smug bastard’s face.”
Ciardis leaned back. “But it was worth so much more than that.”
“I know,” said Sebastian softly while wiping a light sweat from his brow. “I almost killed a man for what he said about you. But I admit silencing this crowd was a very good second prize.”
She looked at him fondly. “Well done.”
Over Sebastian’s shoulder Ciardis watched Lord Gareth slink out of the arena with the help of his servant who he berated from the moment he was in hearing distance. She didn’t think that was the last they would see of the man, but there was nothing she could do about it now.
“Shall we?” said Vana.
With her hand still cupping Sebastian’s face, Ciardis turned to see Vana pointing at the empty podium.
With a sigh, Sebastian asked, “If you’d accompany me to the raised podium, Ciardis Weathervane, now we can convince a bunch of bigoted, wealthy idiots to throw away the lives of hundreds of their soldi
ers for our cause. But with words this time.”
Despite the situation, Ciardis cracked a smile. “I would be delighted, Prince Heir.”
Sebastian sheathed his sword, Vana picked up the fallen sword Lord Gareth had left behind, and they proceeded to take the stage.
Chapter 21
Ciardis and Sebastian stepped up onto the raised platform alone. Thanar and Vana waited at the base to guard the entrance. Although Ciardis could feel without turning around that Thanar’s focus was more on the air above them just in case any attacks came from the sky.
Taking a deep breath, Sebastian spoke, “Sonorous on.”
His voice magnified ten times so that every individual in every corner could hear him. Ciardis could feel the amplifying spell that was bound to the woodwork of the podium. It was an ordinary piece of residual magic, although she’d never seen one invoked on so large a stationary object before. Leaving Ciardis standing in the middle of the round raised platform, Sebastian walked in a circle with his hands upraised.
“Were you amused?” he roared.
“Did we feed your entertainment?” he said, turning around with a snarl. “Because we all saw and heard your animalistic cries for more blood. You fed like ravenous wolves on carrion.”
Disgust laced his tone. He paused and then said, “Are you ghouls or are you nobles? This land is ours. These people are ours, and yet you sit here in your comfortable homes in the capital city. Safe from turmoil, safe from strife, safe from hunger.”
“We feed our people!” shouted one woman. As if that was the most reprehensible trait Sebastian had named.
Sebastian turned to search for the voice that came from a woman who had stood on the second level of the benches in the northern corner. He spotted her.
“Do you, Lady Merriweather?”
She nodded defiantly.
“That’s good, but does your neighbor, Lord Cymis?” Sebastian said with his eyes cutting to a gentleman in the fifth row. “Or does he spend every coin earned by his vineyard laborers making the wine you so enjoy, in the taverns and bar rooms of this very city?”
The man stood and sputtered but quickly sat down in the face of Sebastian’s anger. It was clear he wasn’t a fighter.
