A King's Caution (The Eternal War Book 2)

by Brennan C. Adams

  “And I will watch over him,” Nylion told Kheled even though the Eselan couldn’t hear the assurance.

  “Good luck,” Kheled murmured.

  Cracking a door open, he left Raimie alone with the man who’d been his rival. They stared at one another, neither saying a word while the rumble of Eledis’ long-winded exhortation squeezed through the door crack.

  The minutes dragged, and Raimie’s lips tightened. This would go nowhere. Both of them were too stubborn to first break the silence. He limped before the doors, and Kylorian utterly astonished him.

  “Raimie, I-” He cleared his throat. “It seems I must apologize to you once more. I don’t know why I allow my temper to get me into such trouble.”

  My gods, was Ky trying to… make amends?

  “In any case, I’m truly sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you since Hadrion’s death,” Kylorian continued. “It’s no excuse, but I’ve grappled with engulfing personal issues since that day. They’ve made me… irritable, to say the least, but you’re to become Auden’s king, and soon enough, I’m to become Tiro’s leader. We should try to get along.”

  Raimie coldly glared at the other man. Kylorian was a puzzle for him. On the one hand, he felt a grudging kinship with the man who was so distantly related to him. He even liked the concept of the man he’d compiled through other’s stories and tales, but personally… Kylorian had caused him a continuous stream of headaches since they’d met. Nothing good had ever come from their relationship. After so many years of antagonism between them, the man decided to apologize now?

  “I don’t like you,” Raimie said. “Maybe Hadrion was correct all those years ago. Maybe we are similar, but if so, then we’re too alike. You insult me at every corner and do everything you can to sabotage my goals. Honestly, I’d be delighted if I never saw you again.”

  Kylorian’s arms tightened around his chest.

  “However,” Raimie continued, “you’re right. We do need to work together, so I’ll accept your apology. Don’t make me regret it.

  “We should decide what to do with you. Our rivalry hasn’t painted a portrait of stable government for the Audish people. If we’re to present them with a united front from this point forward, then you’ll need a more public face, Ky. Maybe, with time, we can find you a position in court. Minister of Public Safety, perhaps? I know you enjoy helping people, and your martial skills would be useful in such a position.”

  For once, Eledis had good timing because, before Kylorian could respond, the old man’s drone cut off. The silence was their cue to enter, and for the sake of a smooth performance on this most significant of days, their conversation would have to pause.

  “Shall we?” Raimie asked, gesturing toward the doors.

  While Kylorian worked to fling the heavy wood aside, Raimie leaned his crutch against the frame, there for him as soon as this was over. He almost toppled upon transferring even a modicum of weight to his bad leg, but after a quick sip of Ele, agony weakened, transforming into a bone-deep soreness instead. A discomfort Raimie could manage.

  Following Kylorian, he began his march to the apse, gritting his teeth at the flair of pain upon every other step. With an expression of tranquility already affixed to his face, he forced his lips into a serene smile to complete the illusion all was well.

  The grin became more genuine as he approached the aisle’s end. To either side sat town mayors as well as throngs of ordinary citizens, maids from the palace and average Udulians allowed to the ceremony upon his insistence. His Hand mingled among them, blending in so well he couldn’t pick them from the crowd.

  Toward the front, military commanders and foreign dignitaries had claimed their seats. Of those, several familiar faces instantly stood out. Gistrick and Riadur frowned at him, their displeasure and unease infecting the guests in their immediate vicinity, but Uncle Em- Marcuset practically beamed with pride. The Vasnavai had shown up as well, despite her lack of an answer to their invitation.

  Raimie spied Ren’s black hair near her adoptive father, and his spirit lifted, even if she resolutely faced away from him. Almost immediately after recognizing her, however, he noted Auntie Kaedesa in the same seat on the opposite side of the aisle, her advisor, Pierdriel, beside her, and his delight wavered ever so slightly.

  Putting them from his mind, he focused on his destination. Eledis waited at the aisle’s head, fidgeting. He smiled when their eyes met, but Raimie could see the strain behind his pleasant expression.

  Oswin stood to the left and slightly behind Eledis, one of the two visible members of Raimie’s honor guard. The spymaster deserved the spot. How long had he trailed his friend, never expecting to be remembered, before the spell which constrained Raimie’s mind broke and their friendship resumed from its long pause? How often had the spy served as Raimie’s shield? If anyone could stand for him during this ceremony, it was Oswin.

  Meanwhile, Kylorian was positioned beside and behind his old friend, the other man's spot in the honor guard a concession to his distant familial relation. Seeing Ren's older brother nonchalantly relaxing next to Oswin turned his stomach, but he understood why Kylorian's presence had become necessary. For the short length of the ceremony, he’d tolerate the man, especially if Kylorian meant to reconcile their heavily alienated relationship as he’d claimed.

  The final member of the honor guard wiped away Raimie's rankled discomfiture. Nylion hovered with the other two, invisible but supportive in every possible way. His other half beamed at Raimie as he approached and then pulled an incredibly hilarious face, forcing Raimie to pour his focus into not breaking into laughter.

  Raimie had wanted Kheled with them as well, but the Eselan had begged off, asking for another job. He understood stage shyness-the only reason he didn’t now tremble was due to his shrieking leg-so he’d rescinded the request. As long as his friend was somewhere nearby, Raimie didn’t care what role Kheled played in the ceremony.

  He stopped short of the single stair which led to the apse, his designated spot marked with a bright, red X in his head. Eledis ceased fidgeting and spread his arms.

  “Today is a day for the history books,” he boomed, “for today, the rightful King of Auden takes his place on the throne. Gone are the days of oppression, the centuries where a shadow veiled this land. Today, we move forward into a new age, one of peace and prosperity.”

  Raimie rolled his eyes at the reference to the foretelling. Perhaps his grandfather hoped to convince those present that the day’s proceedings would fulfill it, but such an attempt was folly. Somewhere beyond these walls, Doldimar continued to befoul the earth with his presence.

  Some in the audience must have agreed with Raimie’s conclusions because a round of polite coughs followed Eledis’ short speech, but the old man hadn’t finished with the theatrics.

  “Kneel,” he commanded Raimie with a smirk.

  That demand hadn’t been in the script! Eledis knew that, at the moment, he could hardly walk much less kneel, and Raimie wasn’t sure he could rise once on his knees, at least not without help. He glared at his grandfather while complying.

  Bad knee to the ground first so it bears less weight when the other- AGHHH!

  Raimie wobbled, nearly blacking out before his good knee joined the bad on the stone floor. He took a deep breath, letting pain fade, and bared his teeth at Eledis, a challenge in the expression. The old man nodded his approval.

  “Do you swear to serve Auden’s children, from the most common of serfs to the highest of nobles?” he began with the first vow.

  Modifying the vow to reflect modern times had been Eledis’ idea. The worship of Alouin had struggled while Doldimar had been in power. Few favored the idea of a benevolent god when their lives were hell.

  Raimie had heartily endorsed the change, especially after his last encounter with Alouin. He’d no desire to swear his service to a crazy being. Plus, the removal of Alouin from the vow was sure to please the Matvai leader. No need to remind her of the religion which had
suppressed her people’s beliefs for generations.

  So, it was with a clear conscience Raimie could say, “I so swear.”

  “Do you swear to protect Auden from enemies both within and without, using all available resources up to and including your own life?” Eledis continued.

  This one was easy.

  “I so swear,” Raimie intoned.

  Eledis’ face twisted into a grimace, and he spat the words of the last vow as if they were rancid meat. “Do you swear to foster an environment of equality and understanding, to always consider the views from both sides?”

  The last vow came at Raimie’s insistence. Humanity proclaimed life was solely composed of black and white, Ele and Daevetch, and its various people contended that those not of their side were the definition of evil. No one stopped to consider that maybe the world was mostly populated by grays.

  Take primeancy for example. Most regarded Ele as good, but what happened when one wrapped the primal force so tightly around oneself only rigidity and inflexibility remained? Once trapped within a prison absent adaptability, only a slow death could await the poor captive.

  Conversely, Daevetch was named evil, but sometimes, aspects of it were required for life to advance. What came after a forest fire? An explosion of new plant life, sprouting from the ashes. What accompanied personal tragedy? In most cases, personal growth.

  Maybe it was because he wielded power from both sides of the eternal war, but Raimie tired of being the sole person who could see the benefits of both. He intended to make it his life’s work to found a new type of kingdom, one where everyone belonged and it didn’t matter if one was Esela or human, Ele or Daevetch primeancer. Everyone would be welcome in Auden.

  Perhaps, however, the people weren’t ready for his vision because, behind him, vicious coughing erupted. Ignoring it, Raimie squarely met Eledis’ eyes as he proclaimed, “I so swear.”

  “Rise,” Eledis commanded through gritted teeth.

  Climbing to his feet didn’t need to be as daunting as it seemed. If he objectively examined the problem, Raimie was sure he could devise a solution.

  He glanced at his hands hanging beside his glowing leg. Would using them prove a display of weakness-?

  Oh. Duh.

  Raimie shot Ele from his knees, rocking onto his heels and wheeling his hands to keep from toppling. His feet flattened, and he relaxed, viciously grinning at Eledis.

  The feat must have flustered the old man because he skipped the explanation of Shadowsteal’s importance to Auden, merely frantically gestured for it.

  Kheled came forward, cloth covered bundle cradled in his arms. He winked at Raimie as he approached, hands softly applauding beneath his burden.

  Flipping the cloth to the side, Eledis withdrew the sword which had precipitated their long journey. He impatiently offered it to Raimie who nervously licked his lips.

  “Here goes,” he murmured to himself.

  He accepted the offered grip, and the world crawled to a standstill.

  Ele suffused the hall of worship, and Raimie could see every speck of the normally invisible energy. It faintly glowed in the walls, the floor, the air. Scattered splotches brightened and gathered until they became corporeal and drifted toward him. He gratefully accepted them. The energy buzzing through his veins cast aside his current maladies, and a drumming beat thrummed alongside it. He rolled his head in a circle, taking a moment to enjoy the glorious sensation. The peace and humming pulse drowned out consciousness, but after a moment of thoughtless floating, Raimie struggled to the surface, intent on discovering how Shadowsteal had altered his world this time.

  Eledis, Oswin, and Kylorian shone brighter than the hall of worship’s background, each caught halfway through a breath. Oswin’s proud look of triumph spread across his face at a snail’s pace with Eledis’ disquiet joining it. They stood as glowing statues, moving much as Raimie imagined stone would if it could.

  Before them, Kheled was a blazing beacon of white light, and Raimie shielded his eyes to keep from going blind. Beside his Eselan, Creation watched Raimie with foreboding. No light emerged from the splinter. He was merely Kheled's twin.

  Meanwhile, Bright clapped and giggled with delight beside his human, excitedly hopping in place. A stain upon the world stood with the Ele splinter, its uncertain grin barely visible through the swirl of wrongness which composed its face. Raimie restrained his hand from twitching toward it. Yes, that was the enemy, but it was also Dim. While he held the weapon, he wouldn’t allow Shadowsteal to destroy his Daevetch splinter. Piecing Bright together following his annihilation had been enough of a pain in the neck. He wouldn’t do the same for Dim, especially when he could avoid the splinter’s destruction in the first place.

  Nylion had disappeared. For a moment, panic churned Raimie’s gut before he felt his other half’s presence emerging from within. Reassurance and calm zinged along their bond, and he forcibly relaxed the tautness which had taken hold at the idea that Nylion had been stolen from him once more.

  A song of voices raised in joyous cries began behind him, and Raimie turned to accept the cheers. A collection of white candles composed the crowd, each glowing at varying degrees of brightness. Most matched Oswin and Eledis, but one near the back overshadowed the others. An Ele splinter hovered behind her, and Raimie started. An Ele primeancer, here?

  He wondered if the woman’s splinter had informed her of what might occur when her King touched Shadowsteal. Suddenly, revulsion slackened his grip on the sword, to the point it almost clattered to the ground. How much of an invasion of privacy had he imposed upon her? Despite the possible violation, however, fascination stole Raimie’s fancy. If he could view concealed splinters while holding Shadowsteal, perhaps this inconvenient weapon could prove useful after all.

  And that moment of contemplation was when he saw it. Thick smoke cloyed along the roof’s underside. The sight of it didn’t fit the investiture’s scene. The gas lamps and candles which lit the hall of worship shouldn’t produce as much exhaust as what floated above. So, what was?

  The smoke originated from the windows, and with Ele singing inside, Raimie danced forward to investigate. The beat pulsed so loudly that he worried it would rip through his skin, break the barrier to the physical plane, and gleefully vibrate the world to bits with its newfound freedom.

  “Silly human!” Bright manically exclaimed. “It could never do that!”

  He madly cackled, and Raimie cringed to hear such uncontrolled exhilaration in the voice of a primal force’s fragment. What good could come of Bright’s agitated glee?

  “Ignore him. He can’t cause much damage all by his lonesome,” the stain murmured, and Raimie took Dim’s suggestion to heart.

  He’d made it to the nearest window before the audience reacted to his departure from the apse. Their shouts of surprise and delight directly contrasted with his internal one of dismay.

  Outside, someone had built a string of bonfires along the hall of worship’s walls, each strategically placed beneath a window.

  Raimie sprinted to the doors at the hall’s rear, Ele’s beat long forgotten in his panic. He tried them in vain, already knowing a barricade would block them, but hoping-

  Hope would get these people killed.

  The audience gradually rose to its feet. They twisted to face him, their new king. The one who’d just vowed to protect them.

  Blocked door. Ridiculously narrow windows obstructed by fire. Walls sturdily built to repel invaders. Had the architect not considered that this precious edifice, dedicated to Alouin, might burn? They’d constructed the place to resist ingress, making egress virtually impossible as well.

  One good point. They’d die of smoke inhalation before the flames reached them.

  “Oh, gods! What do I do?” he whispered.

  “Perhaps you should blast the doors from their hinges?” the stain beside him suggested. “Who knows what type of barricade lies on the other side, though? You could shade meld outside.”


  “I won’t leave these people behind,” Raimie growled at the enemy.

  “Raimie. I wasn’t suggesting you do anything of the sort,” the stain replied. “Shade meld to the hall and break the barricade so they can escape.”

  Raimie could hear the ‘stupid’ even if the word was unspoken.

  “That could work,” he murmured. “Thanks, Dim.”

  Panic subsided, allowing the peace which throbbed inside to take control once more. When he reached for his Daevetch source, however, he couldn’t find it.

  “You can’t use me until you put that away,” the stain commented, pointing at Shadowsteal. “Touching it makes you one with the enemy whole, and it cannot abide usage of my whole, only destruction.”

  Oh. Well, the ‘being one with the whole’ thing certainly explained a lot. Such as why he could see Ele everywhere and in everything.

  Raimie was thankful he’d worn his typical dress, including his weapons belt and accompanying blades, under these ridiculous robes. He’d a feeling he’d need to be armed over the course of his efforts to free his new subjects. Shrugging the heavy garment to the floor, he retrieved Silverblade with his free hand, replacing it with Shadowsteal on his hip.

  As soon as he released Shadowsteal’s grip, the world resumed its normal pace, confused cries and severe pain enthusiastically greeting Raimie. He slapped hands over his ears to block the babble. The noise impeded his search for his Daevetch source.

  Of course, at that exact moment, the windows shattered, making way for a storm of bottles filled with liquid fire. They burst on impact, igniting anything they touched including members of the audience. Bemused confusion immediately flipped to fear, and like a mindless herd, the crowd stampeded the doors. Raimie sprayed an Ele wave before the leading line, subtracting from the huge store Shadowsteal had drawn to his body. The crush of people slowed long enough to listen to their new king, their steadily quietening visages a direct contrast to the agonized shrieks filling the air.

  Oh, how Raimie wished to help those caught in flame, but his job was not one of individual assistance but overarching service. Such as calming several hundred people before they succumbed to animal panic.