Bardian's Redemption_Book Four of the Guardian's Vambrace

by H. Jane Harrington

  Directly in Kir's path, a burly upright kaiyo with dingy reddish fur, about the size of a Cornian yellow bear, stood on its stocky hind legs in a menacing posture. Its extremities looked more knife-like than paw-like. The creature swiped at Amari's courser as he passed, taking it down by the legs. Amari jumped before the horse stumbled, and he rolled away cleanly. Borloh rode by his clan brother and offered a hand, which Amari took deftly to swing himself into the saddle behind. They didn't seem eager to engage the tub of nasty, choosing to race toward the packs of groundlings near the gates.

  Kir wasn't so inclined to pass up on the strange kaiyo, which was a new variety to her. It was too dangerous to allow it to take out any more of the horses. Sorrha's reins slapped in the kaiyo's direction, and Kir flung herself from the saddle when she was within brawling distance, close enough to engage but far enough to keep its knife-paws away from Sorrha's chest.

  The kaiyo's right eye was bright red, while its left eye was a brilliant shade of blue. Odd combination, Kir thought passingly. The kaiyo slashed in arcs that were much faster than its size would suggest. Kir used the broadsword to counter the paws, which were almost as long as Deynartrial and as solid as any blade. It not being a swordsmaster, the kaiyo's motions were predictable, even if they were faster than the average combatant.

  Kir sliced her blade against the left shoulder, hoping to hinder one side and slow it up. The blade made no mark in flesh, but rebounded with a metallic ping. As suddenly as Kir had struck, the creature's fur changed color, from red to a muddled blue, and the blade-like appendages morphed into long, flaccid ropey things. They flopped around, almost comically. As soon as the corner of her mouth turned up in amusement, Kir regretted her lapse in guard. The kaiyo whipped the left appendage upward and it stretched in a direct path toward her neck.

  Inagor intercepted it, slicing through the appendage with his Guardian sword. The kaiyo screamed its fury and pain to the clouds as it recoiled to inspect its severed arm.

  “How'd you manage that? My sword just bounced right off.” Kir readied for another assault.

  “It's a manakato,” Inagor explained briskly, staring the creature down in calculation as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder beside Kir. “The side you hit determines the form of its attack. You can tell by the color of the fur and eyes. Corresponds. It can only be defeated with the opposite.”

  “You mean, hit it on the left side and you get blue fur and ropey arms to...what? To strangle their opponent?”

  “Exactly. In this form, you must use blades, rather than fists, whips or other soft weapons. That's why your sword didn't work before—you would have needed to hit it with your hands while its fur was red. From now on, only attack the left side. If you strike the right, it will turn red again, revert back to its bladed arms and we'll be forced to attack with organic strikes, which doesn't do as much damage.”

  It was the most complicated kaiyo Kir had ever had the misfortune to encounter. She didn't waste breath asking how Inagor knew so much about it. They teamed up with their blades to the left half, working in rhythmic strikes until the manakato was spilling its purple guts on the cobbles. The broadsword's pommel continually caught in Kir's splint, stealing precious seconds away from her attacks. It was a frustrating hindrance that would have to be addressed as soon as possible.

  With the manakato down, Kir and Inagor remounted and launched themselves back into the momentum of the speeding caravan.

  As the warriors on horseback reined up at the base of the fort to provide ground cover, the longboats raced for the water gate, which clunked and puttered its way up as they approached. With the Barrier down to allow them entry, a handful of opportunistic kaiyo welcomed themselves into the fort, only to be met with volleys and steel. The fighting was no longer concentrated on the front. Battle cries, clanging, inhuman screeching and chaos rang inside the walls, mimicking the sounds all around. Even behind the walls, there was no safety to be found for the civilians until every last kaiyo that found its way inside was exterminated.

  “Highness!” Beyhue called. “The last of the longboats is approaching the gate. Go! We'll guard your flank.”

  Kir saluted acknowledgment. She hung from the saddle to finish off the gornaculah beside her, then slapped Sorrha's reins, urging him toward the portal. “Ithinar Steel! Rally to me!”

  They galloped through, swinging at every groundling that came within range. The loading docks beyond the rampart walls were not much better off than the roads. Battles were erupting everywhere. The Karmine libertines were still in the longboats that packed the channel. They clutched makeshift weapons, taking whacks at any aerial kaiyo that came near. Lyndal sat quietly with Bertrand in the royal longboat, eyes parked on the oarsman rather than the deck. He was able to take in every angle without breaking character. Kir was proud that he had kept himself in role, no matter how itchy his sword hand got. Lili and Melia were with him, serving as secret protection. Lili was able to fight, but it would blow her cover to reveal such, so she played the innocent, wide-eyed servie at Lyndal's side.

  When the last of the wounded greenies were pulled through the gate, Beyhue blew on a tiny horn that hung from a cord around his neck. It looked very much like the one Ulivall used to issue orders to his own troops. The sluice gate came crashing down, shifting the water level. The sudden current pushed the longboats further down the canal. A fuchsia Barrier flickered between the capacitors, solidifying the Defensive fortification.

  No more kaiyo could get through, but there were still dozens on the inside to dispatch. These were tougher battles than what the caravan had faced at Kaiyo Storm. The creatures were fresh, unbattered, and higher levels. They hadn't tangled with warriors until now. It took a lot more team effort to slay them.

  Kir dismounted and added her blade to a group of greenies bent on filleting a second-class tentacled lendrickan. One of its poison-thorned arms swung forward. The pommel of the broadsword hung up in Kir's splint again, delaying her reaction time. The lendrickan's thorn nearly clipped Kir's leg before she could maneuver the blade. Ferinar blocked it with his sword and severed the tentacle with several good lops.

  “I thank you, and my leg thanks you,” Kir saluted. She launched a Binding to hold the creature firm, allowing the warriors to impale its weak areas.

  “Your order to training was fruitful, Saiya Kunnai,” Ferinar said boldly. He made a strike of his own in the soft spot under the lendrickan's beak. “I hope you recognize the progress I've made under Eshuen's tutelage. Your lesson was impacting, and I am a better man for it.”

  “I think you'll make a war commander yet, Consul,” Kir said. It was feeding his ambitions, but he'd just saved her a nasty sting. Kir figured he deserved a bit of praise, even if it inflated his cocky head more than was good for him.

  Inagor sidled Kir and motioned to a pack of furies that were tearing into a mauled corporal. They worked in tandem on the pack, eliminating them and their puffy partners with perfectly fluid rhythm. When the furies were done for, Inagor hailed Malacar, who was struggling with a long-tailed grunifler nearby. “We need to move the royals to safety. Fetch His Majesty.”

  Malacar banged his fist to his chest, then pivoted and roasted the beast with an Inferno. He signaled to Lyndal's oarsman to row him forth. Kir jumped into the boat before it touched the dock. She hauled Lyndal to his feet and coaxed him along, still playing the role in case anyone was watching.

  “General Beyhue! Secure the libertines!” Kir called, pointing to the boats.

  He acknowledged and issued command to the unit on the bank, then he called to Ulivall. “General, escort the royal entourage to the forward command center. I'll cover your back.”

  The fort was as much Ulivall's baby as it was Beyhue's. The two Generals had overseen the construction for the last months, uniting the efforts of both armies to make a palace from a shanty. Ulivall knew the passages inside and out, and he guided them quickly past the skirmishes to the closest entry into the front t
ower.

  Kir and the warriors surrounded Lyndal, Lili, Melia, Bertrand, and Gevriah, with Ferinar joining them. They fought their way through the first hallway. The second was empty, seeming almost eerily silent compared to the screams, clanging and screeching where they'd come from. They reached a particular room and Ulivall called a code word through the door panel. He pricked his thumb and pressed it against the lock plate. The door swung open, revealing a large room full of people. They were gathered around the long oval table that ate up the center of the chamber. Kir recognized most of them as the Counselors of the Hilian Circle. Several officers sat at desks lining the walls, communicating their orders between the towers with message scrolls.

  At the far end of the command table sat a moppy-haired Alakuwai man. Kir could have kissed him for living. It was Master Prophet Farning, the most welcome sight to Kir's eyes, short of Inagor.

  Farning was short, only an inch taller than Kir, and the way he held his bearing reminded Kir of a yappy little dog that thought it was a kaiyo. His beady eyes darted across Kir's party, inspecting them with haughty disapproval. If the man had a more agreeable temperament, Kir might not have noticed his shortcomings. It was easier to find the faults on the surface when the insides were ugly.

  When they were all in, Ulivall secured the door. It sealed with a hiss of Defensive magic that flickered along its surface. Kir guided Lyndal to a seat at the table, then commanded him to sit. The troops still didn't know of their ruse, and it wasn't time yet to spill it. There were too many other things to focus on. Counselor Kynlah urged Bertrand gently to the chair beside Lyndal. The chaos of the battle had sent the boy into his head. His hands were flicking and rubbing his shell pendant anxiously.

  “Your Affianced Highness. We've been waiting for you,” Elder Trenen said. “Thanks be to Eskanna that you arrived safely.” The entire room bowed their heads and clasped their hands in the Hilian display of respect.

  “The day ain't over yet,” Kir said, forgetting to be formal. “We're all behind the Barrier, but there's a wagonload of fangs inside with us. It will take the troops some time to exterminate them all.”

  “This room is protected by blood-lock. Without the blood of an officer, nothing is coming through that door,” Trenen assured her.

  “It sure is good to see you all,” Kir offered, taking Trenen's wrist-clasp. “I can't thank you enough for all the support you've shown, even if it went unbeknownst to me until the last.”

  “The feeling is mutual,” Trenen beamed. “You have brought Hili a legitimacy in the court that would have been impossible for us to gain on our own.”

  Politics. Kir was destined to be a piece on the shogi board, no matter where she went. There was no escaping it now. It seemed a Dimishuan had more call to represent Hili to the court than she did. While she may have grown up among the Karmine servies and partaken a bit of their culture, the reality was that she was not Dimishuan. Until the fall that she had brought upon herself, Kir had never been ground under a social boot, and she could not claim to know what it was to be considered expendable. She had never been treated as an inferior because of her birth. She'd had choices. There were similarities in their circumstances, sure. Kir had been a slave to the family name. She had been bred and sold to the Crown for status. She had been beaten down by propriety. She had even been collared in captivity by Tarnavarian. But hers had been a collar of a different brand, and she didn't reckon it could compare to the Dimishuan experience. The Circle had gone all in on Kir because she was the only card they had to play. She was determined to give them a winning hand. Kir's relationship and citizenship with Hili was mutually beneficial, but it wasn't just a political alliance for her. It was a demonstration of her loyalty, and a promise to fight for change on their behalf.

  “I'm proud to represent Hili,” Kir replied. She added wryly, “But Princess? For a people who don't cotton to titles, you sure did pick a flashy one for me.”

  “We'd have titled you Goddess if that was required to buy your place at His Majesty's side,” Counselor Weshenell said.

  Everyone allowed chuckles to crack through their nerves.

  “We understand you've graduated to Queen,” Trenen smiled with approval.

  “I guess it went to my head,” Kir joked and everyone chortled again. “A squab is just the idiot noble's fancy label for a peasant's pigeon. I don't care what title you label me with. Formality's not my cup of tea.”

  “Even though we do not hold titles in Hili, we do recognize the importance to the Septaurian royal court. If we wish to play the game, we will play by their rules, and we'll endeavor to win. Queen works for us,” Counselor Jequine said.

  “Master Prophet? Is it possible to expedite the title?” Trenen asked Farning, who sat sourly, looking miserable and antsy. “This situation is certainly unprecedented. As Her Highness bears the only viable Karanni mark, can she be Ascended now? Ascendance would secure her as Queen and give her legal authority over the entire kingdom, not just the islands backing her. Could you perform the ceremony?”

  Kir had not anticipated such a notion. She had always assumed that Vann, as the Ellesainia bloodline's Crown Heir, would be the one Ascended, and that she would be granted the title of Queen by default when that happened.

  “I'm afraid it is impossible at the moment,” Farning replied. “Even though Soventine's Karanni mark is currently defunct, the King's body still lives. For another marked royal to Ascend, either Soventine's body must physically die, or his Ascendance must be dissolved through Annuleration. It doesn't happen often, but there are times when a King must abdicate, due to ill health, extreme age, that sort of thing. While any Mon-Priest can perform an Ascendance, the Annuleration spell is only known and performed by the High Priest, to keep power in check. While there is a living King still Ascended, the spell would not work on a Crown Heir.”

  “So, Soventine has to die or Galvatine has to dissolve his throneright?” Inagor summarized. “Neither event is likely to happen in the next few hours.”

  “It doesn't matter,” Kir put in. “We have more important things to be worried about right now, anyway.”

  “You may not yet officially hold the title to Septauria, but you are considered Queen to us, Highness,” Trenen stated.

  “In all honesty, it doesn't seem right for an Alakuwai to represent you,” Kir admitted humbly. “Hili granted me citizenship, but the time I've spent in Hilihar wasn't much longer than a slip-stalker’s sneeze. Someone born under either collar or Hili sunrise is more deserving of this post.”

  “You are our foot in the door.” Trenen's eyes twinkled like he had clapped a winning piece on the shogi board. He was probably envisioning all the future Hilian petitions that were set to make their way to High Empyrea in about twenty years or so. Kir wondered if she would live long enough to see her children betrothed. Or to see children at all.

  “I'll be that and more if I can help it. My Kion flames for Hili and my voice rings for its people. There was a time I thought we had something in common. I saw the invisible collar of my birth as comparable to the ones you've worn. I was very wrong,” Kir said, throwing a meaningful glance at Copellian. She understood now why he had been so bitterly resentful of her, and why he had so much difficulty accepting her into his clan. “Privilege is blinding. No matter how controlled my world was, it was privileged, still. I have a lot to learn, and I beg your guidance. I may be your foot in the door, but let's make sure that door frame is blown wide open.”

  “That is the plan, Saiya Kunnai,” Trenen affirmed. He seemed touched by her admission. “An open dialogue is where we begin.”

  “Master Prophet,” Kir called across the room to Farning. “Just the man I've come through kaiyo and drencher to see. I'm anxious to open a dialogue with you, too.”

  “Yes, Highness. Took your sweet time in coming, didn't you? I've been waiting in this muggy hole for weeks. Army food and bedding does not sit well with me.”

  “I'm sorry for
the delay. We faced a few inconveniences of our own,” Kir said flatly, trying not to shoot her mouth off and offend the man who would be saving Vann's soul. She turned to Ulivall. “I didn't get a good overview of the battle, being knee-deep in the thick. Do you know how we're looking out there?”

  “Doing a rough calculation, I expect the invading kaiyo that slipped into the fort to be overcome within the hour. Their numbers were massive, but not many made it inside. Thanks to the Defensive Barriers, the rest of them can only sit outside our walls and wish for our blood.” Ulivall looked to the nearby Major who was overseeing a scrollboard intently. “Do we have a casualty report yet?”

  “No, sir,” the Major replied. “But there is a report that one of the commanders made it through before the Barriers went back up. It's a human with kaiyo strength.”

  “A kaienze?” Malacar asked.

  “She is on the move,” the Major confirmed. A fresh message blossomed across the scrollboard. “General Beyhue says she is heading our way.”

  “She?” Kir looked to Inagor, who was thinking the same thing. His face blanched.

  “If it's Soreina, she can't get beyond this door,” Malacar reminded them.

  “If it's Soreina, that casualty list outside this door is about to explode,” Inagor said.

  “We don't know for sure if it's her,” Eshuen cautioned.

  “It's her,” Inagor said positively.