Guardian Queen: Epic Fantasy Romance (Hardstorm Saga Book 3)

by Dana Marton

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  (Tera)

  I stared at the mad Emperor who wanted to live forever like a god, who expected me to drop to my knees before him and kiss his hand. I would never submit to him. He thought he knew me, but, in truth, he saw not me, only his illusions. In his madness, he had woven a tapestry of endless glory for himself. I was but a bright thread for him, in a color that he needed.

  No, I thought then. He was weaving not a tapestry but a net, a net in which to capture all the world, every man and woman. I would not be part of such a trap.

  “I wish for no power,” I told him.

  He retracted his gleaming arm, his expression turning puzzled as if he’d just heard his dog talk or seen a bird swim, something altogether unexpected. “What do you wish for?”

  “Peace.”

  “Then serve me for peace. When the world is mine, when I’m Emperor of the Four Quarters, my peace will reign for a thousand years.”

  I shook my head. “A great empire, and not a free man or woman in it.”

  Kind spirits, show me the way.

  The prayer I had said countless times in the past stopped me this time.

  Was I really asking the spirits to show me the way, or did I still merely want to do everything my way?

  Every time I thought about righting our world and all the war and pain and damage in it, I thought the world could be healed only with kindness and love. I was a healer. I believed with all my heart that kindness could survive in an unkind world. I believed in love of country and one’s people, love of freedom, love of truth, love of service. If we were to make a better world, I could only see that world built on these values. Shahala values. Values my mother had taught me.

  Yet my mother’s last message, engraved on her tombstone for me to find long after her passing, said: Spirit be strong, heart be brave.

  I was beginning to understand that message as I watched the emperor who sought to rule the Four Quarters. I must be kind and good in the world, but not only that. I also needed to have the strength and courage necessary to ensure that kindness and goodness survived.

  Standing before the emperor even a year ago, I would have been filled with fear. But now I understood that while some powers were granted, others were claimed. After his father’s death, Khan Verik had claimed his title by killing his own brothers. He had claimed our island by taking Karamur, the High Lord’s seat. I was here to claim it back.

  So I told the emperor what I had told the khan. “Withdraw from the city now. Leave the island with all your men, and you shall be spared.”

  “You may leave us for now,” the emperor said as if I had not spoken.

  I stood my ground. I could not allow him to dismiss me like that, not if I were to save my people. I had to try something. But what if the only thing I could think of was as evil as the man?

  Not long after I had met Batumar, he’d asked me whether I could take life, the way I saved life. I had told him I would never try. Yet as I stood before the emperor… I reached toward him with my healing power for a reason that had nothing to do with healing, and sought out his heart. I listened to the rhythm. Thump—thump—thump.

  Could I?

  The sorcerer’s cold hand descended on my shoulder. All my senses dampened. I could feel the emperor’s heart no longer, could not hear it beat. All I could hear was his voice. The moment when I could have done something passed.

  He was talking to the commander of his guard. “Troops do not like uncertainty, and they did not expect me here today. Neither did they expect the loss of Verik or to have a new leader. I will address the fighting men. Find a place large enough to hold as many of the Kerghi mercenaries as possible. The imperial guard can watch the city walls. I want as many Kerghi as possible to hear me. The siege-laying army that sailed from Uramit with Lord Batumar could be under these walls as early as…” He cast a questioning glace at his sorcerer for confirmation. “Tomorrow?”

  “The last I have looked.”

  The emperor went on. “Our men must be ready. There can be no uncertainty, no division in the ranks. I shall have them swear allegiance today.”

  As many Kerghi mercenaries as possible… And Batumar with our men nearly here, only to be met with overwhelming force…

  I had to get word to him, but how? And if I couldn’t warn Batumar? If I couldn’t open the portcullis and the city’s gate? At the very least, I had to steal Drav’s war horn away from him. We needed our battle tigers on the battlefield.

  If only the sorcerer and the imperial army hadn’t come. If only I could destroy the horn. If only I could even the odds.

  A seed of an idea formed in my mind.

  I needed time to think it over. I needed time to consider whether it could work. But time I had none.

  I cleared my throat. “The courtyard outside the Great Hall will hold hundreds of soldiers. More can listen from the windows and the ramparts.”

  The emperor did not acknowledge me. He simply went on talking to the commander. “Make sure the Kerghi are assembled in the courtyard. If that is not large enough, have them up on the rooftops.”

  The captain nodded to his second, and the man hurried out.

  The emperor was not finished. “Scour the fortress city for a catapult. If they have none, have one built overnight. I want it on the top of the outer wall, atop the portcullis, and as many barrels of pitch next to it as can be found in the city. Then gather up the servants. I want them bound and ready. When the enemy arrives on the morrow, I want every worthless peasant yet left within these walls to be dipped in pitch, then lit on fire, then lobbed at the enemy.”

  The horror of the images born of his words filled my veins with ice.

  “I want a massacre that the world has not seen.” He was so soft-spoken, so unconcerned, even relaxed. Yet it was as if death itself had whispered. “I want it to be known that any land I take, no rebel can liberate.”

  Think not of his evil. I could not despair. Give not into hopelessness. I could not surrender. The tent pole must stand, Tomron, my faithful general, had told me once in a difficult moment. The tent pole must stand.

  I steeled my spine as I steeled my will.

  Think of hope.

  Batumar will be here by tomorrow.

  Drav’s gaze cut to me once again. Those dark, cavernous eyes threatened to suck me in and swallow me forever. I felt as if all the air had been squeezed out of my lungs. Cold menace emanated from him, but at the same time, I also felt curiosity and a dark amusement. I tore my gaze from him and gasped for air.

  As I caught my breath, I straightened my spine. “I had a long journey. I shall retire.”

  “The sorceress should be there when you speak to the Kerghi, Emperor,” Drav told his master. “Having both a sorcerer and a sorceress by your side, especially a woman so famed, will distract the troops from Verik’s beheading. They are simple soldiers. They need something to talk about in their barracks at night. Better to have the Lady Tera as the topic.”

  The emperor did not look at me, but, after a moment, he inclined his head ever so slightly.

  “I will clean up, then meet you all in the courtyard.” I began walking away, glancing at the door as if I was ready to flee. I had to draw Drav with me.

  The sorcerer took the bait and seized me by the arm. “I shall personally make sure that she is prepared and ready.”

  His touch was cold, his fingers cuffs of ice. I looked up at him and felt once again as if my spirit was being sucked out of my body and into the twin black caves of his eyes.

  As we left the room, I glanced back at the emperor one last time. His gaze flickered to the man who had cut the Kerghi khan’s throat. The man bent down, used the same dagger to slice off the khan’s ear, then held it out to the little dog. The emperor’s pet snatched the ear away, then trotted back to his master, up the stairs, leaving tiny bloody paw prints in his wake.

  Chapter Thirty

  (Tera)

  Drav’s hand slid from my arm t
o my wrist as we walked away from the Great Hall. He would not release me, so we walked side by side, three of the emperor’s guards falling in step behind us. Onra trailed behind them, wringing her hands. I flashed her a reassuring look before turning forward.

  “I can change on my own.” I knew the more I pushed him to leave, the closer the sorcerer would stay to me. And he needed to be close if I were to take that war horn away from him. “You must have matters of sorcery to attend to, something more important than playing lady’s maid.”

  “I assure you, my lady, as distasteful as your filthy clothes are, peeling you out of them shall be a pleasure.”

  I did not respond, as a full unit of imperial guards appeared up ahead, hurrying toward the Great Hall. They split into two columns and hugged the sides of the hallway, allowing us to pass through the center. They would not meet the sorcerer’s gaze.

  “Withdraw from the city now,” I told them. “Tell all others who came with you to leave the islands, and you shall be spared.”

  The guards ignored me, giving no sign that they even heard me. Drav was the only one to react.

  He shook his head with an amused smile. “You will not have a bad life with me. We will stand together by the emperor’s side. He does take care of those who serve him well.”

  “I plan on serving him not at all.” I mirrored his smile. “How times change,” I said then. “When I was born, the emperor wanted me dead. He sent a man to kill me in my mother’s womb, all because of an ancient prophecy.”

  “My father told him when and where you would be born.” Drav’s tone turned pensive. “And yet you lived. And now the emperor has changed his mind about you.”

  “Lucky for me.”

  Drav’s smile returned, nearly reaching his bottomless eyes. “Lucky for the both of us, I think.”

  “I have no power of sorcery, as you must well know.”

  “You have something.” He licked his upper lip. “I can taste it on the air. You have power in this place.” He hesitated. “And there is another, darker power too, that clings here, a power very much to my liking.”

  My steps faltered for a moment. I could barely imagine what damage Kratos could wreak if he bound Drav—a true sorcerer—to his service.

  Never.

  “Why are you at the emperor’s side?” I held the man’s gaze as we walked. “What prize does he give you for your loyalty?”

  “Maybe the prize is you, sorceress.”

  He said the words lightly, but something in his tone made me think the tale had more to it. I waited.

  “My father assisted the emperor now and then, but he was not bound to Drakhar’s service,” he began in a bored tone, as if answering me only because he had nothing better to do at the moment. “He did, however, bind me to the emperor. I serve for life. As will my children and my children’s children. Three generations were sworn. And a sorcerer’s oath cannot be broken.”

  Neither his voice nor his expression betrayed the anger and resentment I would have felt in his place.

  “It could be worse,” he added, his smile now true and real. “The emperor could have selected a hundred-year-old crone for me to breed. Trust me, he would have expected me to make it work.”

  I did not know how to respond to that. I did not have to in any case, as we reached Pleasure Hall at last.

  Under Kadar tradition, no man was ever allowed in a lord’s Pleasure Hall but the lord himself—under punishment of death. Drav and the three imperial guards clearly did not understand the laws of Kadar Pleasure Halls, because not only did they come inside with Onra and me but stayed inside.

  About twenty bruised and battered women cowered before us, all my age or younger. I did not know any of them.

  “Do you know what happened to the concubines?” I asked Onra. I could not imagine they had met a kind fate when the Kerghi invaded.

  “Lord Samtis spirited them away to the safety of his brother’s keep before the enemy took the city,” Onra whispered back.

  I was most glad.

  The new women, set aside to serve the khan, were beautiful, even under their bruises. Drav snapped at one to run and fetch food from the kitchen, then ordered the others to see to my needs. I imagined they had all been high-born ladies once, but they all rushed to obey like servants.

  The common area of Pleasure Hall was a circle, doors opening from it in every direction to the concubines’ chambers. In the middle stood a sunken pool that was usually steaming, heated from below, but now the water had been left cold. The walls were bare, the multitude of Kadar tapestries missing.

  Drav let me go at last. “I think we can all agree that the first thing you need is a bath.”

  He stayed where he was. He did not send the guards away either.

  If he thought he was going to cow me with as little as that, he was going to be disappointed. I was prepared to sacrifice a lot more than my modesty. I turned from him, stripped off my sweaty, dusty clothes and stepped into the cold water, suppressing a shiver. The women gathered to help.

  At first, they tried to talk to me, but every time one said something, Drav shook his head. If a few words were exchanged regardless, one of the guards reached for his sword and stepped forward. Soon we all fell silent. I feared not the guards, but I did not want any of the women to come to harm.

  “Wash her hair,” Drav ordered.

  I resisted nothing. I wanted the sorcerer to think that I was resigned to my fate. I followed all orders, while silently plotting.

  The women washed and dressed me in one of my own fine gowns that I had left behind. When the platter arrived from the kitchen—with cold ham, bread, and cheese—I did not fall on the food. I would not show the sorcerer how desperate I was. Instead, I ate with ladylike restraint. And while I ate, Onra braided my hair.

  Drav drew a handful of golden hairpins from his robe, each tipped with a black pearl, the metal decorated with swirls that seemed to form unfamiliar symbols.

  “A wedding gift,” he told me as he held them out on the palm of his hand.

  My hands fisted at my sides.

  Drav flashed an amused grin. “What a shame. History calls for a warrior, and here you are, a healer. Yet you have spirit. I do not think I shall break it, unless, of course, the emperor demands that you should be broken.” His expression turned hard. “Now accept my gift.”

  I did not move.

  “I told you,” he bent to my ear to whisper, “I do not wish to break you, Lady Tera.”

  “What if I wish to break you, Lord Drav?”

  He laughed. “They did not tell me how truly magnificent you were. There is nothing a man like me loves more than a challenge.” Then his tone hardened. “Take the pins.”

  They were likely imbued with some controlling magic. I wanted to throw them across the room. Yet what good would it do when Drav could make me pick them up? I nodded to Onra, and she took them from the man. As she slid them into my hair, I waited to feel the touch of his power, but I felt nothing. Perhaps he was that skilled—able to leave his victim unsuspecting.

  I sat still while the women fussed with me, taking as much care as if I was still the High Lord’s favorite concubine, on my way to Yullin’s Feast. I let them do their work but paid them little attention. I was waiting for opportunity to pass Onra a message.

  Drav watched me too closely, however.

  When the women finished and stepped away, his dark eyes glinted with approval. “Makes me wish tonight could be our first night, but preparations must be made.” His gaze roamed over me. “Still, the stars do align, so maybe as soon as tomorrow.”

  I stood straight and tall under his inspection, not bothering to hide how cold his words left me. Time to set the trap. “Tomorrow, Lord Batumar will be here.”

  Drav sneered. “Then he will perish. I heard the sorcerer of Ishaf was not up to the task. Let me assure you, my lady, when I rip a man’s spirit from his chest, he dies and he remains dead.”

  “He will come for me. Soon we will be to
gether again.”

  Drav turned thoughtful at my words. His dark eyes narrowed. “How come you to be here before your army? How did Khan Verik manage to capture you? I did not think the man clever enough.”

  I refused to look away from his probing gaze. “I came on my own to retake the city.”

  He laughed with delight. “Ambition is a fine thing in a sorceress. But watch out for delusion. Delusion is quicksand.” He shook his head, his expression thoroughly amused. “You walked up the North Road and what? Banged your slim fist on the gate, demanding entrance?”

  I matched his mocking tone. “Did you not see me come? I thought you foresaw our arrival at Rabeen after we sailed out of the hardstorms. Did you not foresee the rest?”

  His lips flattened. “I saw you sail into Rabeen’s harbor, but not what you did on the island. I saw you in the Shahala port city of Sheharree and then the Kadar port of Kaharta Reh, but too late to send men to intercept. I had to watch the fleet burn. Then I saw you in a boat on the water, with three of Verik’s men, then rescued and sailing up along the coast, then nothing.”

  Most interesting.

  Not on Rabeen, and not once I neared Barren Cove. Why? The only thing those two places had in common that I could think of was Kratos’s presence. Could the sorcerer not see past the ancient god’s power? Did Kratos’s presence dampen the sorcerer’s abilities? If so, I might be able to surprise him yet.

  I thought hard about that. I thought about the collapsed north tower. I thought about Boscor’s tales of the Wyrn wars, how a handful of rebels used trickery against armies a hundred times their size. The plan that had been slowly forming in my mind took a more solid shape, like a ship sailing out of a dense fog—a swirl of gray at first, then more clearly defined, with more and more detail.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  (Tera)

  The spirits provided me with the unguarded moment I needed.

  An imperial guard arrived, and Drav walked to the door to talk with him. While the men conversed in hushed voices, I cast Onra a sideways glance. She understood, stepping up behind me and pretending to adjust the back of my collar.