Heretic Spellblade

by K D Robertson

  “I didn’t lose,” Sunstorm shouted, rising to her feet. She paused, taking in Seraph’s calm gaze. “I retreated, noting the storm and the loss of our resources. He’d blown apart most of the camp already, the bandits had fled, and his Champion had incapacitated Sen. Further battle was unwise.”

  “If I thought you capable of learning to be less reckless, I’d believe you.” Seraph gave her subordinate a mocking smile and drained her glass. She rose and walked over to the glass windows. “He scared you, didn’t he?”

  Silence. The rain pattered against the windows. Seraph stared down into the courtyard, watching as ripples formed in the puddles below. The land was so arid this close to the mountains, at least on this side. Useless land for the Federation, she knew.

  “His sorcery affected my shadows,” Sunstorm eventually admitted. “I don’t know how. Normal sorcery had no effect. But he blew away my shroud with a single spell and leveled half of the valley at the same time.”

  Seraph froze. A single spell? That sounded impossible to her.

  “Did you see him cast it?” she asked.

  “No. I was trying to get an angle on that stupid beastkin Champion of his and—” Sunstorm tried to say.

  “Did he cast anything like it later? Did you see that? What sort of spells did he use?” Seraph asked rapid-fire.

  Sunstorm blinked. She swirled her glass, the wine forming a pattern around the outside. “He only used third rank spells. The earlier spell had to be fifth or sixth rank, though. How else could he have affected my shadows? Gem abilities are far above the natural elements.”

  Seraph sighed. So the girl hadn’t paid attention to anything important in the battle.

  This new Bastion was a sorcerer. She knew this, but not where his talents lay.

  “If he affected your shadows, most likely he used the binding stone to enhance his sorcery,” Seraph explained. She couldn’t imagine anything else. How he had done it was beyond her, however.

  Seraph knew of two likely methods the Bastion used to overwhelm Sunstorm’s shadows. One of them seemed improbably, given how magic resistant the shadows were. Although binding stones had immense power behind them, they didn’t turn their owners into gods. That meant he had likely used the other method, which she had been taught was impossible for humans to use.

  After all, human sorcerers were supposed to be restricted to the natural elements.

  “Does it matter?” Sunstorm muttered. “He wasn’t that strong. Like I said, he didn’t have a gemmed Champion. I’ll track him down and claim his head.”

  “Then why don’t you have his head already?” Seraph retorted.

  “Like I said—”

  “Enough,” Seraph said. Sunstorm shut up.

  After returning to her seat, Seraph poured two more glasses of wine. The boy still hadn’t returned with a dustpan and brush. She hoped that Sunstorm hadn’t killed him.

  “You’re being too defensive,” Seraph said. “There’s no shame in losing to a superior opponent.” Sunstorm opened her mouth to protest, but Seraph cut her off with a glare. “And he is superior. You’ve killed Bastions before. You have nothing to prove to me or Master Theus. If he was the weakling you claim he is, then you’d be requesting to meet with our master and show off your prizes. Not complaining about your missed opportunities.”

  Sunstorm remained silent.

  Continuing, Seraph said, “We’ve lost the bandits, but we planned around that. Master Theus won’t be concerned. You say that our contact is still working with us, which means our plans can proceed. At worst, this accelerates our timetable. At best, the Bastion blunders at his next test.”

  “Test?” Sunstorm asked.

  “Don’t worry,” Seraph said. “All I need you to do is return to his keep and survey it for me.”

  “Done,” Sunstorm said. She didn’t move. “I investigated it on the return trip. It’s not that big.”

  Seraph stared at her. “Not that big sounds bigger than I expected. Explain.”

  Minutes passed as the younger Champion briefed Seraph on the exterior of the keep. Seraph kept her surprise in check.

  “And the interior?” No answer. “You did go inside, didn’t you? You weren’t so scared of him that you refused to infiltrate his keep?”

  When Sunstorm didn’t rise to the taunt, Seraph knew something was wrong.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Seraph pressed, her brow furrowing.

  “He… He sensed me,” Sunstorm said, her eyes boring into the tiled floor. “When I teleported, he knew where I’d appear. It’s how I lost a sword. He even knew when I used a shadow double. How could he do that so easily?”

  “Talented sorcerers can detect Champions,” Seraph said. “If you’re using your abilities, then it’s even easier for him to find you without even trying.”

  “But it takes time to scan for magic,” Sunstorm protested.

  “Hence why I say talented,” Seraph said. “I did say he is a superior opponent. You’ve done well today, Sunstorm. Remember that you haven’t done anything to upset me or Master Theus. Rest up, recharge your gem, and prepare for your next mission. I’ll brief you in the morning.”

  Sunstorm left. The servant boy slipped through the door a minute later and swept up the remains of both empty wine bottles. When he brought another to the table, Seraph waved him off and retreated to her bedroom.

  What a mess she was in, she thought. She threw herself onto the pile of cushions on top of her bed. The mattress swallowed her groan.

  The Empire had stopped the leyline disruption far earlier than expected. The new Bastion was orders of magnitude more capable than Theus had claimed. Seraph cursed Theus’s arrogance.

  Years of experience had taught Seraph that taking a Bastion lightly was the highway to the grave. For every incompetent Bastion that Sunstorm could behead without even blinking, another could blow her away just as quickly. The raw power of a binding stone was not to be trifled with.

  But Theus didn’t care. All he had told Seraph was that the new Bastion was too weak to be of any concern, and that the Empire had sent him to Gharrick Pass to get him out of the way.

  Seraph didn’t understand why the Empire would ever promote somebody to Bastion only to put them in a corner and forget about them. But Theus had dismissed her concerns, then pissed off up north with his other Champions. They smirked and giggled behind her back, questioning why she worried about a Bastion that everybody knew was incompetent.

  And now that Bastion had built a fortress from nothing in three weeks, defeated Sunstorm and her pet spellblade, and appeared capable of sorcery that Seraph had been told was fundamentally impossible for humans.

  She could salvage this. Theus was too arrogant to believe she knew how the leylines worked, but she had been a Champion longer than he had been sticking it in those giggling idiots that worshipped him.

  If the leylines stopped being disrupted, then all of that magical energy had to go somewhere. Bastion Nathan Straub would need to prove himself to be a capable commander even swifter than he had built his fortress.

  In the meantime, Seraph had the time to prepare her next move. First, though, she needed to tell Theus. Beautiful, stupid Theus.

  She opened the connection over the wireless after she confirmed it was magically secured. Almost five minutes passed before he answered.

  “Why are you wasting my time this late, Seraph?” Theus grumbled over the wireless, his voice crackling.

  “I need your authority to accelerate my plans down south,” Seraph said, closing her eyes and imagining something less irritating than his voice. “The Empire is making its move.”

  Chapter 17

  Nathan watched the carriages roll up along the road toward his fortress. There were three of them, all decorated in von Clair regalia. A company of Anna’s soldiers accompanied the convoy.

  This wasn’t a social visit. Anna wouldn’t have brought so many horseless carriages if she only wanted to see Nathan. In fact, she probably woul
d have requested that he visited her.

  Several weeks had passed since they defeated the bandits and recruited Sen. Summer had arrived. Wildlife overran the nearby forests, and pollen filled the air. Nathan’s nose was constantly irritated whenever he was outside.

  And the leylines had stabilized.

  Nathan descended from the wall. It now extended farther than it had a few weeks ago and separated the fortress into two halves.

  A massive wall protected the upper section of the fortress and ringed the keep. The soldiers and clerks stayed here and practiced in the main courtyard. An inner wall separated the upper section from the lower section, and it contained a single gatehouse for now.

  As Kuda had predicted, merchants and peasants flocked to Gharrick Pass once news spread. A Bastion was in the county, and his fortress promised protection. Caravans began to stop here, and that meant there was money to be made. Trade grew as people serviced the caravans, then shops opened up for the people living in the fortress, and soon families moved in because other people were here.

  More people arrived each day. Nathan had constructed the lower section to protect them, given they had begun to build their own town outside the walls. How many years had it been since he had commanded a fortress that needed to worry about and protect the general populace?

  Too many. The Far Reaches were practically uninhabitable, even if it had been an important chokepoint. His last fortress had been an isolated one.

  Nathan sped up the arrival of people through his bandit purges. Sen’s group had been the main one. She had told him as such, and the leylines had begun to stabilize within days. But smaller groups continued to operate with much weaker magic users.

  Running around burning out bandit camps had spread the word of a new Bastion faster than normal. Within a month, they’d be spilling outside of the walls again if he didn’t do something.

  “Do you ever stop worrying about things?” Sen asked him, dragging him from his thoughts.

  He looked over and saw her hovering by his side. When had she gotten here?

  He waved for her to follow him, then headed to the main courtyard in front of the keep.

  “I’m a Bastion. If I don’t worry about what happens next, who will?” Nathan replied.

  “Somehow that feels too natural coming from you,” Sen said. “I’m still not used to this.”

  “Remembering one past, but feeling completely differently?”

  “Yes. That.” Sen nodded, her eyes distant. “I get strange feelings of nostalgia sometimes, but I don’t know what I’m nostalgic about. Other times I feel like there’s a hole in my heart, as if I should remember or associate something with what I’m seeing or remembering, but that thing is missing.” Sen suddenly smiled. “You’re something of a constant, at least.”

  Good to know, he thought. Kadria had carried out her end of the deal once again.

  The carriages rolled through the gate. Anna’s soldiers formed up in ranks along either side of the courtyard to greet her. The officers wore their dress uniforms, their breastplates gleaming for the first time since they had arrived at the fortress. The captain of the guard patrolled the line, chewing out some of his subordinates and reshuffling the formation. He wanted the best-dressed guards at the front for his countess to see first.

  Nathan meditated while he waited. He checked on the leylines, did rhythmic exercises to focus his sorcery, and monitored every presence in the fortress. Beside him, Sen leaned on her sheathed greatsword and tried not to make eye contact with any of the guards.

  Her profuse apologies had mended things enough that the guards didn’t glare at her when she passed. At the same time, the fact she had to apologize so much meant there were things that couldn’t be so easily forgiven. She was under his protection now, and supporting him. That kept the guards happy.

  Even if they weren’t happy, they had to live with it. Nathan could run his fortress without them.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Fei gasped out, running up to his side. Her tail wagged behind her, batting against Nathan’s legs once she took up her position to his right.

  Sen smirked. “Are you ever not late?” She paused. “Huh. I get the feeling you’re supposed to be punctual.”

  Fei gave Sen an odd look, but shrugged the statement off. Her eyes scanned the courtyard. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she saw the convoy only beginning to enter the inner section of the fortress.

  “Where’s Kuda?” Fei asked. “I saw him at breakfast, so I know he’s around.”

  “You have time to pay attention to other people while shoveling down all that food?” Sen asked.

  Fei glared at Sen.

  “Be nice,” Nathan murmured.

  The two women glared at him instead.

  With a sigh, Nathan said, “Kuda is preparing the meeting room.”

  “Eh? Is this important?” Fei asked. “It’s only Anna’s carriage.”

  Sen laughed, then tried to cover her mouth and pretend she was coughing. Fei still glared at her. Nathan pushed both their heads down, causing both to wince and stop playing around.

  “Anna wouldn’t bring three carriages if this was a social visit,” Nathan explained.

  “I also doubt the soldiers would line up like this,” Sen remarked.

  “No, that’s pretty normal,” Nathan said. “How often do you think the officers get a chance to show off how well-trained their companies are? Even a minor visit by the ruling noble is a big deal. You weren’t on the wall, so you likely missed the crowds in the streets in the lower section.”

  Sen grimaced. “No, I saw them. I thought there was a market on today.”

  “That’s at midday.”

  Sen and Fei continued to chatter while they waited for the carriages to pull up. The soldiers accompanying Anna pulled away from the convoy. They took up positions at the far end of the courtyard.

  With so many in one place, Nathan noticed that the guards in the fortress had adjusted their uniforms slightly. While the guards that had arrived with Anna only wore her family symbol, as befitting a private army, those in the fortress were different. They had added a small silver patch from the Imperial Army.

  Nathan’s historical knowledge of the Empire wasn’t complete enough to help him recognize what it was. But he at least knew that the guards in the fortress now identified themselves as soldiers of the Empire, rather than mere hired swords under a noble. For many of them, it was a large step up in status.

  The carriages came to a stop. Anna stepped out from the closest one, her dirty blonde hair almost brown in the summer sun. She wore an elegant ruffled black dress covered with silver ribbons and bore a red sash. Her heels were larger than her bust, and Nathan doubted she had any plans to run about much today. She was dressed to impress.

  Vera joined her a moment later in the same sorceress robes from the other day. Her white robe gleamed. Clearly, she had cleaned them after the storm.

  The lead carriage disgorged a handful of clerks, all dressed up in their puffery and carrying books and pens. They clustered a short distance away from Anna and Vera, talking furtively to one another.

  The officers called their soldiers to attention. A clatter of boots and armor resounded across the courtyard. Hundreds of mailed gloves slapped against breastplates. Fei clapped her hands over her ears. Gently, Nathan pulled them down, ignoring her watery eyes.

  A lean-muscled giant jumped down from the last carriage. His gray hair was neatly cropped, and his sideburns ran low on his jawline. He didn’t wear any armor, favoring a simple officer’s uniform that matched Nathan’s. A golden badge gleamed from his collar, however.

  The badge of the royal family.

  Bastion Leopold Tyrim, the oldest Bastion in the Anfang Empire, surveyed the courtyard with a gentle smile. Slowly, he raised his hand to his chest in a salute. He lowered it, then gestured for the assembled soldiers to be at ease.

  “Is that him?” Sen mumbled.

  Fei shot Sen a look of disbelief. The beastki
n’s eyes were wide as dinner plates, her ears and tail standing on end.

  “How can you not recognize Bastion Leopold?” Fei hissed.

  Sen stared at Fei, then looked up at Nathan and shrugged. “That’s a yes, then.”

  Another person descended from the carriage behind Leopold. Nathan stared at her.

  He had expected to see her at some point, but not this soon.

  Ciana. She had served Leopold briefly before the fall of the Empire. Her opinions of him had colored Nathan’s view of him, causing him to take many of the negative views of Leopold with a grain of salt.

  She looked so young. Her single horn stuck out from her forehead. Her platinum hair glowed in the sunlight. She had tied it back in a ponytail, pulling back her bangs that Nathan had always encouraged her to keep. Her horse’s tail swayed behind her as she followed Leopold.

  Anna and her entourage approached Nathan. He greeted Leopold with a salute, and the other Bastion returned it. Ciana stared up at Nathan with cautious eyes, then hid behind Leopold when Nathan looked back at her.

  “Forgive her,” Leopold said with a chuckle. “Unicorn beastkin are naturally skittish around men. Especially those who are more…” His eyes lingered on Fei and Sen, who hovered close to Nathan’s side. “Active? Yes, let’s leave it at that.” Leopold laughed.

  “It’s fine.” Nathan shrugged, despite feeling the opposite. “But why bring a unicorn here given they are rightfully wary of people?”

  Leopold raised an eyebrow. “She needs to learn how to handle others. Men, women, ‘active’ men, enemies, and eventually demons.”

  “You’re training her to be a Champion?” Nathan asked.

  “Blunt, aren’t we?” Leopold chuckled. “Let’s head inside and continue this.”

  Anna coughed and gave Leopold a look. He sighed, scratched a hairy cheek, and decided to stay put.

  “Ah, yes, the formalities,” he said. “Well met, Bastion Nathan. On behalf of His Majesty, I congratulate you on your early victories as Bastion, and for uncovering a plot against the Empire. Suffice it to say that rewards are being prepared and will be doled out once the Federation is sufficiently cowed.”