A King's Caution

by Brennan C. Adams

  Good gods, the man was inquisitive! He’d asked everything short of the one question which might have provoked the answer he sought.

  “That’s not your concern,” Kheled replied. “Who warned you about me?”

  “Oh, you know. The one who ruined my face.”

  “Doldimar?!” Oh Alouin, what had the bastard told this spy? “What did he say?!”

  “Just that you weren’t dead despite what I might think. He gave me a message for you. It went, ‘Arivor received your letter and says hello.’ What does that mean, and why does Doldimar know who you are?”

  So, Arivor knew an end might be in sight. Kheled hoped that gave his old friend some small measure of comfort.

  “Again, not your concern,” he mumbled.

  “I’m sorry, but it is!” the spy insisted. “If you’ve a connection to the evil overlord we hope to overthrow, the King and his Hand should know about it.”

  “Raimie’s aware of everything there is to know about me,” Kheled intoned. “Every secret. Every detail of my past. If he’s seen fit to keep it from you, then I don’t feel any need to share.”

  Little reddened, the white, healing skin under his stitches a stark contrast to the flush of color.

  “The tales are true. You are arrogant,” he muttered, “but I won’t argue your claim’s truth. When he feels the need, the King will tell us. In the meantime, return to your façade. Both Kheled and Keltheryl are irritating, but at least I don’t feel the need to throttle Keltheryl.”

  “Will you share what you’ve learned with the others?”

  “No, although you might want to clue Kylorian in. He’ll notice if you start flinging Ele in the coming battle,” Little advised before stalking away.

  Despite the spy’s concern, Ren’s adoptive brother didn’t worry him. The man would be plenty occupied with killing Kiraak in the coming skirmish, enough so he wouldn’t notice the occasional burst of white light. Besides, in his countless years of experience, Keltheryl had learned how to disguise Ele usage in a fight.

  A crackle in the brush drew his attention, and he surreptitiously drew a knife. He casually meandered in the direction from which the noise had come, fixing his eyes on the blasted lands beyond the tree line. Hushed breathing sounded behind him, and he lunged.

  “Did someone order a younger brother?” Keltheryl called a few moments later.

  Shoving the teenager forward, he settled in to enjoy the spectacle.

  “Hadrion?! What are you doing here?!” Kylorian gasped.

  After regaining his balance, the teenager planted his hands on hips. “Joining you, of course!” he answered.

  “You can’t-” Kylorian massaged his temples. “Does father know you’re here?”

  “He thinks I’m training with the Zrelnach in Da’kul,” Hadrion answered with gulp, “but he probably knows I’m gone by now. They were supposed to send a message once I'd arrived.”

  Snatching his brother’s arm, Kylorian began dragging him away.

  “What are you doing?!”

  “Taking you to safety, idiot,” Kylorian replied. “You can’t come with me. This group will complete the most dangerous part of the assault. We’re almost guaranteed to get killed.”

  “You can’t, Ky,” Raimie interjected, “not if you want to complete the mission with us. You won’t have nearly enough time to drag him, kicking and screaming, to safety as well as return before the bombardment begins.”

  “Then I guess I’m not going with you,” Kylorian retorted.

  Keltheryl and Raimie exchanged a glance, and Keltheryl shrugged. Honestly, he hadn't needed the man's help in the first place. He'd only accepted Kylorian’s offer of protection so the other man would have no argument with Raimie, but if he wanted to leave now, Keltheryl wouldn't stop him.

  “You’d back out of a promise so easily?” Little asked. “Some king you’d make.”

  Kylorian jerked to a halt, giving Hadrion the chance to yank his arm free. He rubbed the white handprint marking his skin.

  “What do you suggest I do?!” Kylorian demanded.

  Shrugs rose all around.

  “We could tie him to a tree?” Little suggested.

  “He’d escape the ropes,” Oswin countered. “Look at him! He’s squirmy as a snake.”

  “Little could take him to Marcuset. I doubt the Commander would let the kid out of his sight,” Raimie said. “Or maybe Oswin should go?”

  “I will if that’s what you command, sir, but I’ve unfinished business in the Birthing Grounds,” Little murmured. “Something which will require my presence.”

  “And you’ve permitted me to join you this time,” Oswin added. “I’m not leaving your side until this is over.”

  “Do I get a say in this?!” Hadrion cried.

  They all rounded on the teenager, and he gulped.

  “Is anyone going to ask how I found you or how I traveled the miles from Tiro to here? No? Because I successfully trailed you for weeks, and none of you noticed. What does that say about my abilities? Also, I’ve diligently trained since you last left Tiro, Ky. I’m leaps and bounds better with the sword than I was. I’m ready to fight the Kiraak, but Dury’s never going to allow that to happen. I’m the youngest, the one he most wants to protect. If something doesn’t change, I’ll stay trapped in Tiro for the rest of my life. Plus, like Little, I’ve unfinished business here. I need to return to the place from which Dury rescued me if I’m ever to escape my nightmares.”

  Kylorian looked unconvinced even after his brother’s speech, but Keltheryl understood. The older brother was only concerned with protecting his sibling from immediate danger and didn’t anticipate the long-term damage lurking around the corner if he didn’t indulge the kid.

  If they won this battle, Hadrion could visit the Birthing Grounds when it was safe, but that’s not what he needed. For him, demons infested that crater, and Hadrion needed to fight and kill them for good.

  “We can keep an eye on him,” Keltheryl suggested. “He can’t come to harm with so many experienced warriors watching him.”

  “Yes!” Hadrion exclaimed, nodding gratefully. “He makes a good point!”

  “But the plan doesn’t call for us to stick together the entire time,” Kylorian protested, defeat already in his voice.

  “He’ll go with Raimie when we split up,” Keltheryl said. “If a dual primeancer and a spymaster can’t keep him safe, no one can.”

  “Please, Ky,” Hadrion begged. “I need this.”

  Struggle captured Kylorian’s face, but soon enough, he nodded acceptance.

  “Yes!” Hadrion danced in a circle. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  He hugged his brother, and Kylorian awkwardly patted his back. Then, the teenager bounded across the grass toward him. The rest of the group returned to whatever conversation they’d held before Keltheryl’s interruption.

  “Thank you, I- I don’t know your name,” Hadrion frowned.

  “I’m Keltheryl, but you can call me Khel,” Keltheryl told the teenager.

  After checking the other’s fields of view, he blinked out of and into the visible spectrum. He hoped the teenager would remember the display he’d performed before winter’s arrival, the one in his sister’s guest room where he’d demonstrated his primeancer abilities.

  Hadrion’s hand flew to his mouth. “I knew it!” he gasped. “I knew you weren’t dead, Kheled!”

  “Can you keep this secret?” the Eselan asked. “Right now, it’s a barrier between me and danger.”

  “Of course I can!” Hadrion exclaimed, pulling Kheled into an embrace. “Thank you!”

  What was he supposed to do? Lie to the teenager? Hadrion was a genuinely kind, young man. In some ways, he reminded Kheled of Rafe, his adoptive nephew from his first life. He couldn’t bear to let the kid believe a friend perished longer than he already had.

  “How’s that mask?” Hadrion asked as he pulled away. “You still wear it, I see.”

  The teenager had bee
n the only person in Kheled’s millennia of life to recognize the pleasant façade he presented to the world was false. He’d also been the one to encourage Kheled to abandon it.

  “I’ve allowed it to slip on occasion,” Kheled answered. “Most don’t like what lies beneath. It makes them uncomfortable.”

  “But it’s who you are! You can never entirely be yourself around your friends if you don’t drop it.”

  “Not all my friends are as accepting of me as you, Hadrion.”

  A distant rumble interrupted the teenager’s reply. The noise must signal the bombardment’s beginning. Immediately, the group was on its feet.

  “Keltheryl! Hadrion! Coming?” Raimie called.

  Kheled bit back a groan at the name his friend used for him. The switching of personas was becoming tiresome. If he didn’t watch it, he’d soon make a mistake. Maybe it was best to stick with only one for a while, make no more revelations. If only he could manage such a miraculous feat.

  Little led them to a nearly invisible trapdoor. Wild scrub concealed it from searching eyes, the disguise so effective Keltheryl might have missed it if not for the spy.

  He was the last one on the ladder, squeezing through the sinkholes’ crack with difficulty. Resisting the urge to light it with Ele, he carefully descended the ladder in pitch dark. At the base, Keltheryl regrouped with the others. Raimie and Little advanced to the next opening, and they frantically waved their companions forward.

  Keltheryl had been sure they’d encounter enemies in this cave system. During a bombardment, dug outs in the earth would become the safest place to wait, and while Little had reported numerous caves dotted the Birthing Grounds’ perimeter, a flood of Kiraak and Conscripted also inhabited the crater. These halls should be packed, but they emerged into sunlight without a single encounter.

  Whistles, rumbles, and crashes made any conversation they might have held impossible. Not that any of them would have risked making such noise with Kiraak nearby.

  The ground shook, nearly knocking them off their feet, and Keltheryl shot a glance at the cliff’s edge. Their group was supposed to be safe from projectiles this close to the wall. Raimie had ordered the initial bombardment to focus on Birthing Grounds’ center, but Keltheryl supposed he shouldn’t expect accuracy from such crude weapons of war.

  When they stood below the initiation of the projectiles’ deadly arcs, Raimie placed a hand against stone. Darkness flickered from that contact, racing up the cliff in a jagged zig-zag. Where it leveled off, the cliff face cracked and lifted, anchoring into a ninety-degree angle. Step by step, a stair rose from the wall.

  The last one rose into place, and above their heads, soldiers peeked over the intimidating drop. One hesitantly placed his weight on the first floating step, and when he didn’t plummet to his death, more followed his example. The bombardment slowed enough for sound other than stone’s plummet to become perceptible.

  Raimie retracted his hand, ceasing Daevetch’s flow, and a knot of unease in Keltheryl’s gut loosened. He knew his friend wasn’t as affected by the dark energy as every other Daevetch primeancer he’d ever encountered, but the day would come when Raimie would wield those shadows and refuse to let go. He didn’t care to imagine what would happen to their friendship when that eventuality occurred.

  His friend turned around with a crooked smile, and immediately, Keltheryl reached out to steady his wobble. Raimie raggedly laughed, the glaze in his eyes retreating in increments.

  “Sorry, Khel, holding that much power is intoxicating. Releasing it leaves me dizzy.”

  “Can you continue?” Keltheryl asked. “We can take a break if needed.”

  They really couldn’t.

  “No need. I can carry on, no problem,” Raimie responded as he pulled away. “Good luck?”

  His friend looked nowhere near recovered. Frazzled and relentlessly distracted, Raimie probably couldn’t defend from even the mildest of attacks, but the plan required speed if it was to succeed. Keltheryl would have to trust Raimie knew what he was doing.

  “And to you, my friend.”

  Raimie, Oswin, and Hadrion plunged into barracks, the buildings quickly concealing them from view. Kylorian uncertainly monitored their departure. He took a single step after them but no more.

  “Do you need me to stay with you, or can I complete my business?” Little asked Keltheryl.

  “I’ll find the Enforcers holed up in the caves, yes?”

  “When rocks started flying, they’ll have saved the most protected site for themselves, so yes, they’re in the caves. Hopefully, my directions from last night will prove sufficient for finding their hidey hole,” Little answered.

  “Then I wish you luck with your task.”

  Inclining his head, Little also disappeared between the buildings, if on a slightly different trajectory.

  “Just you and me now, huh?” Kylorian commented.

  Keltheryl pointedly didn’t roll his eyes. Instead, he headed for the closest hole in the cliff face, Ren’s adoptive brother on his heels.

  They commenced their search without preamble. Empty halls and chambers greeted them around every corner.

  Rather quickly, Keltheryl wondered if Little’s belief concerning the Enforcers’ behavior had been valid. Sure, most men and women would protect their lives above all else in such dangerous circumstances, but Daevetch primeancers, such as Doldimar’s Enforcers, responded to a higher call. The primary drive to their lives was Chaos, Corruption, and Death. They were sure to be helplessly drawn to the scene unfolding outside, and he and Kylorian couldn’t afford to waste time on a false trail.

  He’d decided to abandon the caves when he felt a Daevetch bolt flying at them. Shoving Kylorian out of the way, he immediately rolled into a crouch, his saber and dagger already loosed from their scabbards. The bolt harmlessly splashed against a spot on the wall Kylorian’s head had previously blocked.

  “You all right?” Keltheryl panted.

  “Yes, thanks.” Quickly recovering from his forced tumble, Kylorian drew his weapon. “Where did that come from?”

  “One of them, I suspect.”

  Three men and two women occupied the small cavern they stood before. Keltheryl couldn’t tell who’d thrown the bolt since all five lounged, not a care in the world. Two played dice in a corner while another watched, one flipped through a book at a table, and the last casually tossed a dagger in a repetitive fashion from where he lay on a cot. Two of the men sported nothing but squirming black beneath their skin while the other three showed no sign of Corruption. Black eyes, however, marred any sense that these seemingly normal humans were ordinary.

  “One of you take care of them already,” the female at the table sighed over her book.

  Immediately, the two men playing dice rose, unsheathing their weapons.

  “Can you distract them?” Keltheryl asked.

  “I was only expecting regular Kiraak but…. I can handle a pair of Overseers for a while,” Kylorian answered. “Not sure about killing them but distracting I can do.”

  “I’ll finish the Enforcers quickly, then.”

  “Are you done nattering?” one of the Overseers drawled. “I long to taste your blood.”

  Kylorian recoiled. “Disgusting,” he muttered before attacking.

  Keltheryl followed his companion into battle without delay, but as he approached the Overseers, he flicked Ele at the man on the cot. The Enforcer flinched, tumbling from his resting place.

  “That one’s mine!” he growled.

  The Overseer swinging at Keltheryl’s head stopped halfway through his arc. The unexpected halt made the man stumble, giving Keltheryl the opening he needed to score a hit to the thigh. It was the best he could do given the three primeancers rushing him, but hopefully, the injury would slow the Overseer enough to give Kylorian an advantage.

  Any worries he might carry for his companion wiped away in the onslaught of the Enforcers’ fury. They didn't attempt to coordinate with one another, only bore down
on him with all their strength.

  He used Ele to duck under their strikes, amusement tugging on his mouth at their frantic readjustment. They were obviously accustomed to overpowering their opponents with ease, and while he’d no doubt they’d sparred with one another in the past, they’d also most likely underplayed their abilities in such bouts, too cautious to reveal the full extent of their strength to those who were tentative allies at best.

  Kylorian’s back was turned, so Keltheryl swept a wave of white light at his three, unsteady opponents. It bowled them over, and he took the opportunity to behead the male.

  A flash of movement caught his eye, and he twisted, but not before pain pierced his left shoulder. His saber clattered to the ground, dropping from his temporarily useless arm.

  Snarling, the woman who’d stabbed him brought her sword around in what she must have thought would be the killing blow. Keltheryl backpedaled, leaning away from her scythe of death. He used his long dagger to block her next several, bone-shuddering strikes, the hand wielding it growing increasingly tired. His left arm continued to dangle.

  While caught within the blur of desperate motion, he briefly took note of the other female’s hurried departure before concerns of survival dragged his focus to the fight. The female was growing frustrated, her sword raining on him like a hammer on a nail, and Keltheryl’s good arm tingled with pins and needles. He tenaciously clung to his dagger, perfectly aware that with its drop, he’d quickly fall.

  Whatever kept Keltheryl in perfect health was taking its sweet time with his injured shoulder. He couldn't take a third death in as many weeks, not now, not when Raimie relied on him to break the Kiraak from the Enforcers’ control. For a moment, he considered praying for relief, but then, light flashed.

  Catching the next blow on the dagger’s cross guard, he punched the Enforcer in the face, rejoicing in the power of two working arms. She stumbled backward, clutching at her gushing nose. Shock froze her solid, long enough for Keltheryl to retrieve his saber.

  The female pressed her attack with determination, barely giving him enough time to compose his defense, but her skill wasn’t enough to save her. When she overstepped with a blow aimed at his stomach, Keltheryl deflected it and buried his dagger in her eyes, one after the other. She dropped her sword to claw at her face, and he circled to her back before ending her suffering.