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

by Brennan C. Adams

  As soon as Eledis saw the first Enforcer waltz from shadows, he’d sounded the retreat. Standing against Daevetch primeancers would be futile. Dozens would die within minutes, and he’d rather spend the defenders’ lives at the palace than here. He’d no illusion the wall around the palace would prove any more of a barricade than the one around the city. He could always hope, however, that Doldimar might wish to play a second round of the game.

  Someone had opened the gates while Eledis and the defenders raced down the ramparts. Kiraak gleefully poured through the opening, eagerly advancing on Audish soldiers, but most of Eledis’ people managed to find the speed necessary to escape the closing trap’s jaws. He blocked his ears to the cries abandoned behind him, squeezing his eyes shut to free them of mist. The break in his vision was nearly enough to send him sprawling over abandoned possessions littering the streets, left behind by panicked civilians on their flight to the gardens.

  In his mad dash to the palace, Eledis became another grim face in the mob of Audish soldiers. When the Enforcers decided to stalk their flight, appearing from thin air to carve through their ranks, he could easily have been one who fell to the primeancers’ blades, who heard their manic laughter as his life slipped away.

  But he wasn’t. They approached the square which led to the palace gate, and the Enforcers abruptly and inexplicably ceased their attacks. Their termination proved quite a mercy because as they turned the last corner into the square, they collided with a wall of people. Single individuals and families crowded what had once seemed an enormous gathering space, reducing its size to a mere fraction. Fortunately, the civilians continued to peacefully wait for admittance inside the gate. Their tranquility was about to transform.

  Eledis drew his pistol. He’d hoped more of the city would be emptied, more citizens gone, but what could he expect from six kids who attempted to vanish hundreds of thousands? Lifting the pistol above his head, he fired. Immediately, the square opened as people instinctively ducked.

  “Everyone make way,” Eledis shouted as he quickly reloaded. “Let us through.”

  One man defiantly rose from the hunkered people, hands on hips. “Or wha-?”

  Eledis shot him before he could finish the question. Watching the man’s surprised face as he slumped beneath the lake of civilians pained Eledis, but he forced himself to record every moment of the man’s fall, there to be retrieved when he required a reminder he wasn’t a good man.

  “I’ll only say this once more,” he yelled into the stunned silence. “Let us through, or we will slice our way through you.”

  An angry murmur answered him, but the throng parted. Eledis strode to the gate, trying not to examine the faces fearfully following his progress. One vivid victim was more than enough for today.

  Panic hadn’t yet taken hold, but then again, the crowd probably hadn’t parsed what the soldiers’ presence in the square meant. Empty walls. An advancing army.

  He waited at the palace wall until the last surviving soldier limped inside before crossing the barrier himself.

  “Close the gate,” he ordered the soldier who manned the portcullis wench.

  “Sir?” the man asked. “The civilians? What about our men on the other side?”

  Grabbing a fistful of the soldier’s vest, Eledis drew him close. “Doldimar nears, and you take the time to argue with me?” he spat. “We’ve saved as many lives as we can. Close. The. Gate. And let the blame fall on me.”

  Shoving the man toward the wench, he turned away without checking whether his order was obeyed. Hurriedly, he rushed for the palace. Doldimar’s new toys should distract him for at least a few hours, giving Eledis time for much-needed rest. After such a long waking period, sand comprised his eyes, and his arms burned from dragging Shadowsteal through too many Kiraak necks. He’d try to sleep for an hour before returning to the wall.

  That being said, he fully expected small skirmishes to harry the wall at any second now, hence why he’d closed the gate. The soldiers could handle such small matters by themselves, however, especially considering the square crammed with civilians which would serve as an irresistible sacrifice to the Kiraak.

  Anxious shouts rose from the gate’s direction, and Eledis slumped against obsidian.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered to the faceless voices screaming fear and betrayal. “I’m so sorry.”

  “We do what we must,” Illasaya pronounced beside him. “Look to the people you’ve saved, Eledis, not those who are lost.”

  Ignoring her advice, he instead focused on her, seizing her arms. “What are you doing here?!” he asked, voice a strained screech. “You were supposed to be among the first evacuated.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I was waiting for you, silly.”

  “You magnificently stupid woman!” Eledis yelled, shaking her. “I need you safe, not here. Come with me.”

  He dragged her to the gardens, deliberately refusing to heed her protests. Pushing and shoving to the front of the line, he drew more than a few baleful glares and curses, but before long, they stumbled into the clearing where once an arena had persisted.

  Soldiers kept those waiting from creeping too far forward. Drowning their only means of escape in flesh would be unthinkably foolish, but people were never rational during an evacuation. If it weren’t for the shine of the soldiers’ swords, the Udulians would by now have advanced to the cliff’s edge, tumbling their rescuers from its precipice.

  Behind their guardians, six Daevetch primeancers tirelessly toiled to shade meld Uduli’s population to safety, despite their obvious exhaustion and strain. Nessaira quietly sang under her breath as she grabbed a little boy and whisked him away. The children rubbed at their eyes and yawned while beckoning their next charge forward, and one of the girls laughed a manic giggle Eledis had only ever heard from the Enforcers.

  The teenager, Tejesper, stumbled from the shadows and stretched. Slapping his face, he turned to accept his next passenger when he saw Eledis.

  “How goes it?” Eledis asked.

  “Not quickly enough,” the teenager responded, scanning the lines, “but we’re coping as best we can.”

  “Only one at a time?”

  Tejesper shrugged. “Toward the beginning, we tried more people per trip. It did not go well.”

  Eledis eyed the rust stain on the teenager’s shiny shirt, the organic bits he’d mistaken for beading, and decided not to press the issue.

  “What about her?” he asked, pointing to the giggling girl who’d crouched and wrapped her hands over her head.

  “Oh, Rilishin,” Tejesper sighed. “She’s used too much. The madness has taken her. Nycolas!”

  He shouted for one of the boys. Nycolas’ head jerked up and over to the girl, and he slumped. Trotting to her side, he enfolded Rilishin in his arms, and they disappeared.

  “I’m sorry,” Eledis said.

  “We knew the risks of coming to help,” Tejesper murmured. “What can I do for you?”

  Eledis pulled Illasaya forward. “You may know Queen Kaedesa of Ada’ir. I need her next departed the city. Can’t have a diplomatic incident on top of destruction by Doldimar,” Eledis bitterly laughed.

  “I won’t go anywhere without you,” Illasaya protested.

  He turned her to face him, resting his forehead on hers. “I know, my love. Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll be together soon.”

  Kissing her hair, he breathed in her comforting scent, allowing himself to bask in the moment for as long as he dared. When he pulled away, he released her, cupping her chin.

  “Thank you for making me a better man,” he told her. “I’m sorry.”

  A confused expression crossed her face as his hand dropped from her.

  “For what-?”

  Tejesper embraced her, and they vanished. Eledis ground his teeth at his sudden hollowness, the crushing sense of loss which crawled up his throat to choke off his air, his thoughts…

  He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but when next he blinked, Te
jesper extended a slip of paper to him.

  “She said to give you this. Threatened to gouge out my eyes if I didn’t deliver.”

  Chuckling, Eledis took the proffered gift. “She would.”

  In an angry scrawl, a message starkly loomed from its white background.

  Only Read If You Plan to Be Selfish

  Breaking the seal, Eledis started his trip back to the palace.

  My Love,

  You are SUCH a bastard. I don’t yet know how you plan to do it, but how dare you manipulate me into going with a primeancer!

  You’re not allowed to sacrifice yourself-the penmanship grew shaky here-without allowing me to go with you. We just found one another again. Don’t let Doldimar become a barrier between us once more.

  Stay alive. Come find me once you’re done in the city. Fight the evil son of a bitch if you must, but DON’T DIE. Do you hear me? I need you beside me, not in the ground. I love you, you selfish, self-destructive, wonderful man.

  -Illasaya

  Eledis slowly exhaled as he stashed the letter over his heart. “I love you too, ‘saya,” he murmured. “I’ll try to comply with your request.”

  His feet automatically followed their usual route to his room, brain too tired to actively participate in the act of traveling, but they slowed at the sound of a familiar voice singing a lecherous tavern song. Eledis reluctantly followed the sound until it crossed behind the throne room doors.

  Shit. He’d hoped… Well, he’d hoped a lot of things, hadn’t he? He closed his eyes, fighting an overwhelming sense of despair, one which threatened to knock him off his feet. Maybe he could play diversion long enough for the evacuees to finish magically absconding. It was a flimsy straw at which to grasp, but he’d nothing else.

  Slamming the doors open, Eledis marched into the throne room. Lounging on Auden’s throne, Doldimar continued to sing his bawdy song as if the interruption had never occurred.

  “Will you kill me swiftly, or must I continue to provide you entertainment?” Eledis asked.

  Doldimar closed his lips, cutting off the music, and inspected him with a smirk. “You’re not who I expected,” he said.

  “I’m who you get.”

  The sound of steel rasping against steel deafeningly echoed in the cavernous room. Eledis fell into his favorite defensive stance, Shadowsteal’s point defiantly lifted toward Doldimar. The time had come to see which would prevail, magic or three centuries of training and practice.

  “Fight me,” Eledis commanded.

  “Must I?” Doldimar asked. “I’d rather save my strength. What have I ever done to you?”

  Eledis stilled his escalating rate of respiration. The question was a taunt, meant to distract. He wouldn’t let it.

  “You killed my son,” he replied, listing his grievances without emotion, “destroyed my kingdom, uprooted my life. Yes, I believe we ‘must’ fight.”

  “Fine,” Doldimar agreed, on his feet faster than physically possible, “but remember, you asked for this.”

  Doldimar drew his sword and attacked.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  1st of Ninth, 3485

  Thirteen months, an entire year, of juggling my secret with resisting Doldimar’s sniping attacks. That’s how long Nebailie gave me before sharing my secret lack of a splinter with the Ministers. Two months until the cowardly lot had the palace guard arrest me and what’s left of my family. I can hardly blame them for the decision, especially not my brother. For weeks, Nebailie has dropped hints of what came like the alms he’s so fond of dispensing.

  I’m almost grateful it’s come to this. No more struggling to hide my inability to wield Ele. No more hiding.

  At the same time, I want to throttle my jailors because they’ve trapped me in a prison cell with only my angry wife, terrified heir, and grief for company. For not only have I spent fifteen months combatting Doldimar, but I’ve also fled the inescapable image burned into my brain. The one where I open a box which contains my son’s piecemeal body. Now, I’ve nowhere to run.

  I’ve so much pride for that brilliant boy. How he kept his evil, son of a bitch captor appeased for five years, I’ll never know. He gave us time to prepare, although, after the last year of war, I know no amount of preparation could have been enough.

  The sad saps who currently discuss our fate have no idea. If they think they can better contain evil’s embodiment, then they’re welcome to try. I only wish they’d more quickly make up their minds concerning the former royal family.

  I know what delays them. The Ministers want to publicly execute the three of us, but Nebailie argues against it, and he controls Auden’s military. They can’t afford to distance him.

  As an added surprise, we’ve gained an ally in the Eselan diplomat. Alouin knows why he pleads for our lives. I’ve shown him nothing but contempt during our encounters. Supposedly, he sides with us at Drena, his seer wife’s, bidding. The woman must provide a compelling reason for keeping us alive because we’ve waited in this cell for three days, and still, they argue.

  I simply want to know if my deception had damned us. My gloriously gorgeous wife. My fantastically intelligent heir…

  It seems I’m about to find out. I hear the tramp of guards’ boots on the prison stair. Whatever fate awaits us, I thank you, my longtime companion, for being the best of listeners. Hopefully, I can write again soon.

  Enjoy it while it lasts, old man.

  A novel, foreign sensation scorched metal onto the back of Raimie’s tongue, a heat which stung his eyes and stabbed his middle with sharp pain. The feeling was strangely clarifying because despite the distant view of his city burning, a sight which should have smacked him into despondency, he knew exactly what to do next.

  “Another, Dim.”

  Raimie allowed the shadows to rip him apart without waiting for the splinter’s agreement. What was the point of Dim if he couldn’t assist his human when help was most needed? This trip took a split second longer than the last, a fact of which he made note, but the shadows soon spewed him into the unfamiliar surroundings of a stranger’s home.

  Orange light illuminated a sitting room, softly playing over its armchairs and fireplace. Raimie tread to the window, flinching at a burst of flames against the glass. With cackles and hisses, fire devoured the building next door, its wood and daub walls groaning under the strain. He’d need to quickly complete his errand if he didn’t wish to roast alive.

  For a moment, Raimie wondered if Dim had chosen the wrong exit point. The sitting room was empty, but a familiar mumble drifted through an empty doorway.

  “I had to… Couldn’t…”

  Creeping to the opening’s edge, Raimie darted his head around the doorframe. Two bodies occupied the next room: one sought after, the other a complete surprise.

  Marcuset, Uncle Emri, knelt in the floor’s center, hands bound to ankles. A knotted leather strip gagged his tongue, and smoldering eyes tracked the other man’s pace from one end of the room to the other.

  Kylorian was in a pitiful state, even considering what little Raimie could see of him. Ren’s adoptive brother wrung his hands to the time of his nervous feet’s staccato, reassurances passing from his lips with increasing anguish.

  “She’ll survive… She’s smart… Nothing I could do!”

  So internally focused was he Raimie could have stood before him and yelled a greeting without Kylorian noticing, but he opted to sneak up on the man, silent as death. When Ren’s older brother ended his pace in the direction opposite Raimie, he curled his fingers in Kylorian’s hair and drove the man’s face into the wall three times-“How could you!”-before tossing him across the room.

  Kylorian tumbled and rolled until a doorframe stopped his uncontrolled spin. Gasping, he struggled to face his unknown adversary with dignity, and when he rose to his knees, Raimie wished he hadn’t. Kylorian’s eyes had sunken into pits of purple, bruise-like stains, a wild craze filling his once clear, blue orbs. His nose was smashed into pulp, Raimie’s
work, and a snaking spider web of black veins slunk from the back of his neck and over his cheeks, Doldimar’s achievement.

  Kiraak… Shame cauterized Raimie’s stomach into an abyss of frost.

  “Gods, I didn’t know he’d taken control, Ky! I’m sorry! When did he get you? How long have you battled Corruption’s spread?” Raimie exclaimed before shaking his head. “Why am I rambling? Here. Let me take it from you.”

  Shrieking, Kylorian slapped Raimie’s outstretched hand away from him. Falling backward, he huddled with knees drawn to chest, face buried in crossed arms.

  “Why- why- why-” he stuttered like a broken record. “Should have seen… Too kind of a man… My fault…” A tear-streaked face lifted to Raimie’s. “MY FAULT!” Kylorian screamed.

  “Not if Doldimar made you,” Raimie told him, unease prickling his skin.

  Kylorian laughed, the audial epitome of insanity, and Raimie’s blood froze.

  “Sure, he may have forced my deeds, but who do you think approached the bastard in the first place?” Kylorian grinned, blood from his split lip staining his cracked teeth. “Because I wanted to be rid of you, I made a deal with Daevetch! Look at me now! Opening the gate for the Kiraak instead of resisting them. Killing a woman whose only mistake was to uncover my deception.”

  The shouted confession halted as Raimie’s foot connected with Kylorian’s jaw. His head bounced on the floor, jarring his laughter into two brief hiccups.

  “Yes! Please! Please, Raimie!” Kylorian pleaded, eyes wildly swiveling as they searched in the ceiling for his brother-in-law. “I deserve nothing less. Please!”

  For what could have been seconds or hours, Raimie regarded Ren’s brother. The sight of Corruption on Kylorian’s face had cooled whatever all-consuming fury had moved him to seek the man in the first place. The sensation had sharpened from an unreasoning, devouring blaze to a sub-zero, precision-oriented scalpel.

  He considered drawing Corruption from Kylorian, unbinding Uncle Emri, and departing, a course of action he’d have chosen before arriving in Auden. But he wasn’t that boy anymore. Freeing Kylorian’s neglected sword from its sheath, he stabbed it through the man’s midsection and into the wooden floorboards beneath.