Harbinger

by Shae Ford

  And to think that Kael could ever measure up to a warrior like Setheran was … laughable.

  “You’re —”

  “Please,” she held up her hand, “I have no interest in an argument. You mountain people carry on pretty famously over the stupidest things. Let’s talk about something else.” She looked down and pulled at the skirt of her nightdress. “Like why I’m wearing the Kingdom’s ugliest, itchiest piece of fabric.”

  If he hadn’t already been cross with her, the way she snarled at the gown might have made him laugh. “All the female patients wear them.”

  “Do they?” She let the dress fall back into place. “Well did it ever occur to you that I might not like having winter’s vindictive fury blowing up my skirt? My privates aren’t any less important than yours.”

  Kael didn’t know a thing about women’s privates, and the burn in his cheeks more than proved it.

  An amused half-smile took the place of her frown. “Never mind. Just tell me where you’ve stashed my armor.”

  He pointed to the office and she walked away, flipping the knife high into the air and catching it deftly every few steps. The moment she was out of sight, he tried to collect his thoughts. What had he been about to do?

  His stomach growled, reminding him.

  He got what little of the stew was edible divided into separate bowls. He wasn’t entirely sure how she was used to eating, but he tried to make the table look presentable. Even after he’d scrubbed it down and settled the spoons just so, it looked more prepared for operation than anything else. Well blast it, she’d just have to manage.

  “Is something on fire?”

  He’d prepared a scathing retort. But when he saw her, his throat sealed shut.

  It’d taken Amos a week to clean all the grime from her armor. Every evening he would close himself up in his office and work late into the night. He borrowed oil from the blacksmith and grumbled about how filthy it was. But he’d done his job well.

  Every inch of her attire was black as the darkest hour of night. The high collar of her jerkin nearly brushed her chin, and the hem fell almost to her knees. A wide belt wrapped around her waist, framing her graceful figure. Gauntlets covered the tops of her hands, ridged on their backs for the sole purpose of dealing ending blows. They stretched down to her elbows, where they ended in deadly points.

  When she turned to check the hearth, he saw the hood attached to the shoulders of her jerkin. She moved, and the tight material that clung to her arms and legs caught the light. He was certain now that they were made of interlocking pieces of metal — so fine they were almost smooth.

  “Who are you?”

  She smirked at his question. She had her hair pulled back into a pony’s tail, but a few strands fell across her eyes, dulling their brilliance in shadow. “My name is Kyleigh.”

  He’d been expecting her to say that she was an agent of the Earl, or perhaps even an assassin. But a name made her at once less menacing. His eyes wandered to the boots she had clutched in her hands, past the deadly spurs sticking out from the heels, and down to her bare feet. “Aren’t you cold?”

  Kyleigh shrugged. “Rarely.” She dropped her boots next to the hearth and sat at the table. “This is nice. It’s been a while since I’ve had a proper meal.” She looked at him expectantly.

  “What?”

  She nodded to the chair across from her. “Won’t you sit?”

  He did, stiffly, and tried to avoid her eyes. When she was dressed in rags and holding a knife to his throat, he didn’t think much about the fact that she was a girl. But now he was very aware of it.

  “This is yours, by the way.” She slid the knife across the table to him.

  He grasped at his belt and realized that his hunting dagger was missing. “You stole it.”

  “If you don’t want it nicked, you ought to keep it in your boot,” she said with a shrug.

  He stuck it back in his belt — just to spite her.

  She rolled her eyes and put the first spoonful of stew in her mouth — which she immediately spat back out. “Ugh, what is this?”

  “Well if you hadn’t attacked me, it might not have burned.”

  “I’m not talking about the broth.” She dipped her spoon in and held it well away from her, as if she thought it might be poison. “What’s this?”

  “It’s a leek.”

  “A what?”

  “It’s a sort of vegetable.”

  She glared at it. “Well I don’t eat prey food. Here, you can have it.”

  And before he could stop her, she dropped it into his bowl. “You’ve just had that in your mouth!”

  “What? I didn’t chew it.”

  He managed to grab the leek before it sunk and flicked it into the fire. When he turned back around, five more had mysteriously appeared in its place. “You are most definitely not a lady,” he muttered.

  He’d been so used to talking to her however he liked that he jumped when she laughed. “Of course I’m not a lady. If I were, I’d find the idea of eating off a bloodstained table disgusting.”

  He supposed she had a point. “Just what are you, then?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” She spread her arms wide. “I’m a knight.”

  That might have been the most ridiculous thing he’d heard all evening. “No you aren’t. There’s no such thing as a woman knight.”

  “I beg to differ,” she said, propping her feet up on the table. She balanced the stew in her lap and dug through it, making a face at every leek she found.

  “Well I’ve never heard of any women knights. And I’ve read all about them.”

  “Have you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Then surely you know how secretive the knights of Midlan are, how their very names are forged to hide them.”

  Of course he knew. Only the most elite of the Kingdom’s soldiers were recruited into the army of Midlan, and only the most skilled of those became knights. They were the deadliest warriors in all the Kingdom: nobody but the King knew how many there really were, or what exactly it was that they did. But rumor had it that they traveled all across the realm, doing the King’s most unsavory bidding in shadow.

  He supposed it was possible that one of the knights was a woman. But these days there was a price for joining the army of Midlan. And if Kyleigh was telling the truth, it meant she was a murderer.

  He suddenly lost his appetite. “Who’d you kill?”

  “Loads of people,” she said, around a mouthful of charred squirrel.

  “You know what I mean.”

  She must have caught the serious edge in his voice because she set her bowl down and leaned forward. “Kin or friend?”

  He nodded.

  “Neither, because I have neither.”

  “I don’t believe you. Everyone has someone.”

  “Well I don’t.” She leaned back and crossed her arms defiantly. “The King’s goons slaughtered my family, and I’ve been on my own ever since.”

  He could tell by the hard lines around her eyes that she was telling the truth. “But why would you serve the King if he murdered your family?”

  “I don’t anymore. I’m an outlaw — a renegade knight bent on reform.”

  “Don’t you mean revenge?”

  She smirked. “If I took blood for blood, all I’d have is a mess. No, I want things to change. I want to see Crevan toppled and the Five kicked off their thrones.”

  He snorted. “And I’d like it if the stew pot were always full.”

  “It’s not a fancy,” she said, frowning at him. “It can be done. All I need is —”

  The door burst open and Amos rode in on a flurry of curses. “It’s snowing!” he spat, brushing the white flakes off his shoulders. “I had to listen to Roland gloat all through dinner. I told you it would snow. My toes never fail! Huh, I think he was the only cheerful person in the village. Besides you, of course.” Amos jerked his head at Kael without looking. “To the rest of us, snow just means no food and nothing to do.”

&
nbsp; “Why would Kael be happy about the snow?” Kyleigh asked.

  Amos snorted and said without turning around: “Because it’s his birthday, of course! I thought everyone in Tinnark knew that.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “Ah yes. Mountain folk use the weather for birthdays. I’d forgotten about that.”

  Finally, Amos seemed to catch on. He spun around and his mouth dropped open. “You’re awake.”

  She frowned. “Awake? Have I been asleep?”

  He nodded. “For over a month, now. Ever since Kael found you in the woods.” He took an instrument off a nearby table and advanced on her. “Let’s just see how everything’s holding up.”

  She batted his hand away. “Hold on a moment. Why was I in the woods?”

  Amos frowned. “You don’t remember? Well, that’s not unusual for someone with a head injury. I’ll tell you what we know …”

  She stared into the fire as he told the tale, her brows bent low. The more he talked, the more troubled her face became. At first, Amos tried to leave out the part about how they healed her, but then Kael told him that she already knew their secret. He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say a word about it.

  When he was finished, Kyleigh slumped forward and put a hand over her face. “Oh yes, now I remember,” she muttered. After a moment, she sat up straight. “Well, this complicates things.”

  “How so?” Amos asked.

  She looked at Kael. “You saved my life.”

  “No I didn’t.” It was the only thing he could say to keep the heat from springing into his face. “Plenty of other people helped. All I did was seal the wound shut.”

  “And if you hadn’t, she’d most certainly be dead,” Amos said rather smugly. “Speaking of — is there a reason your blood cooks hotter than the inside of a forge?” He held up his bandaged fingers. “Are you a cursed woman?”

  She smiled wryly. “You might say that.”

  “Do you remember how you got wounded?” Kael asked.

  “Oh, that was just a … misunderstanding,” she said with a wave of her hand. “But the important thing is that you saved my life. And by the laws of my people, I owe you a debt.”

  “Mmmm, and just who are your people?” Amos interjected.

  “Warriors from the Grandforest.”

  It was a vague reply, but before Kael could ask for details, Amos butted his way back in. “I see. And you say you owe my grandson a debt? What sort of debt?”

  “A life debt. I must fight alongside him until I save his life in return. And in the meantime, it seems I’ll have to put my personal mission on hold.”

  Kael wasn’t in the market for a companion. He had a long road ahead of him and doubted very seriously if Kyleigh could survive for any length of time in the mountains. “Thanks, but I don’t need your help,” he said, and glared to prove he meant it.

  “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. My sword is yours.” Her hand twitched involuntarily for the scabbard at her hip, and she found it wasn’t there. “Where’s he run off to?”

  “He?” Amos said.

  “Yes, he. Every ship and sword in the Kingdom is a she, so I thought it was high time for a he. His name is Harbinger, if you must …” She bolted upright and froze. “Harbinger?” She cocked her head, like a fox listening for the scratch of a rabbit beneath the snow. Then she turned on her heel and dashed for the office. “I’m coming, Harbinger!”

  “Gah, head patients,” Amos muttered.

  By the time they caught up with her, it looked as if a whirlwind had blown through the room. Amos’s books were tossed every which way, clean and filthy clothes lay in heaps together. The cot was turned on its side and the desk lay on its head, its legs stuck up in surrender.

  “Not the floorboards!” Amos said, but it was too late.

  Kyleigh’s heel came down on one of the planks and it broke with a crack! She ripped it free and sent another two sailing to opposite ends of the room. When the hole was large enough, she reached down inside of it. Her arm disappeared to her elbow before she let out a triumphant whoop.

  “I’ve found him!” she said excitedly, pulling the curved sword free.

  “Blast it, girl! If you’d kept your breeches on for another minute I could’ve got him for you — and with a great deal less ruin,” Amos said. He’d gone out of his way to hide the sword from prying eyes, and now his entire workspace was destroyed.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d put him away,” she said, working the scabbard onto her belt. “He was calling for me, and I couldn’t just —”

  “Calling for you? Are you mad?” Kael interrupted. He knew very well who was going to have to clean up the mess, and it wasn’t going to be Amos.

  “I’m not mad,” she said, her voice flinty. “And I can prove it.”

  She drew and swung the sword in one fluid motion. Its blade was a solid, bright-shining white, and curved in the middle for the sole purpose of catching flesh. He’d never seen such a blade — he imagined it could cleave a man’s head from his shoulders with hardly any effort at all. But that wasn’t the strangest part.

  The sword hummed as it cut through the air. It was an eerie sound, almost human. He thought he could hear the delight in its call … and the hunger. For some reason, it made him itch for a fight.

  “Where did you find it?” Kael said, not taking his eyes off the blade as she swung it around in dizzying arcs.

  “He found me, more like,” she said with a smirk.

  He’d doubted before, but seeing the way she moved with a sword in hand made him believe: Kyleigh was a warrior. “Have you ever killed anybody?”

  “Kael,” Amos said sharply, but she wasn’t at all offended.

  “I already told you I have.”

  “What's it like?”

  She stopped swinging. “Like? Well it isn't pleasant, I'll tell you that.” She thrust Harbinger into its sheath and gave him a hard look. “I've met your type before: daydreamers, book-readers and the like. You think battle is something glorious.”

  “Well isn't it? There’s glory in defending your home, surely. And in helping those in need, and fighting for people who can't protect themselves. Or are those sorts of things not important to outlaws?”

  Her lips curved into a smile. She started to say something, then shook her head. “Never mind. I see the light in your eyes, and I won't be the one to put it out. Now, where are we off to?”

  Amos looked alarmed. “You’re leaving? But the snows just started. You’ll be frozen before midnight.”

  “I’m not leaving yet.” He turned to Kyleigh. “And you’re not coming with me.”

  She opened her mouth to retort when a loud boom interrupted her. It sounded like a thunderclap, but the whole house shook beneath it. Kael grabbed Amos by his frail shoulders to keep him from toppling over while Kyleigh held her arms out for balance.

  “What in Kingdom’s name was that?” Amos sputtered when it passed. He pushed Kael aside and jerked the door open.

  Light poured in from outside — bright, orange light. Angry light. Shouts and the sharp clang of metal drifted in with the snow. Tiny bumps rose up on Kael’s arms that had nothing to do with the cold. “What is it?”

  After a long moment, Amos finally spoke: “Tinnark is under attack.”

  Chapter 7

  Wolves with Iron Teeth

  Shock filled his head like gobs of cotton. He hardly felt it when Kyleigh pushed by to stand next to Amos. She leaned out the door, squinting into the night. “It’s the Earl’s men,” she said after a moment. “Great skies — they’ve got mages.”

  The house shook again and a burst of lightning flashed, followed by screams. Kael went for the door, but Amos stopped him. “There’s a whole army on our doorstep and no time to play the hero. You’ve got to leave — now.”

  “We can’t let them burn Tinnark, we have to fight!” He shoved past Amos but couldn’t get through Kyleigh. She pushed him back with her elbow and closed the door.

  “
Tinnark’s already burned. The only thing we can do now is make sure you get to safety,” Amos said as he opened a chest at the foot of one of the hospital beds. He stuffed a leather cap over Kael’s head while Kyleigh forced his arms through the sleeves of a deerskin coat and buttoned it. Amos tossed her a rucksack and she slung it over her shoulders.

  Its sides bulged out, as if it was already packed.

  Explosions rattled the door, much closer this time. Kael cornered Amos. “What about the other villagers? What about Roland? Who’s going to save him?”

  Amos planted two knobby hands on his shoulders and looked him hard in the eye. “You are. One day, you’ll save them all. But not today.”

  “What? Grandfather, you don’t know what you’re —”

  “Shut your mouth and listen,” he snapped, digging his fingers into Kael’s skin for emphasis. “Follow Kyleigh, do as she does.”

  “I don’t want …” Hold on a moment. He didn’t remember Kyleigh ever introducing herself to Amos. “How do you know her name?”

  He blanched. “You have to run. It’s time for you to run.”

  But he didn’t want to run. He swore he would never run again. When he tried to push this thought to his lips, it jumped from his grasp like a slippery fish. His ears clogged. He suddenly couldn’t remember how to breathe.

  Run.

  The tiny lines in Amos’s eyes were all-consuming. He felt his feet leave the ground. He was falling further and further into darkness and he couldn’t seem to stop.

  Run.

  Amos’s voice was everywhere. The house was gone. Tinnark was gone. Even the mountains were gone. His voice, his command was the only thing left to hold on to — and Kael grasped for it.

  Run!

  Snow flew up from under his heels as he followed Kyleigh through a tunnel of blazing streets. She was a shade with a white sword, a shadow made even darker by the walls of fire around her.