SWNOVELS Fireblade: Chapter 10
LASHING RAIN HISSES down from dark thunderclouds and salt spray spits upwards from the heaving waves below. Flying above the sea in the middle of a raging storm is a shock of cold and wet after the dry heat of the Annubian deserts and the sultry humidity of the Rapathian plains.
This is my only chance to learn how to conceal the dragonfire inside me before it becomes a conspicuous problem when we arrive in Samaran. At least the rain is washing away the blood and ash of the battle.
I have an uneasy feeling that now the binding with the Shadowblade is complete, I will once more be viewed with suspicion when I arrive back in my own country. And turning up with a large fire-drake at my side is sure to make that situation ten times worse. I can only hope that Marin will understand and intervene on my behalf with the rest of the Eldrin before Jantian decides that I really am too much of a security risk to be allowed to live.
I’m guessing that Marin has based himself at Blackthorn Manor again. He may have been fighting to defend Samarian villages but I feel sure he will not stray far from the King’s side, not after the recent kidnap and assassination attempt on the royals. I guide Zandar to the forest surrounding the Manor and its grounds, taking care to maintain enough distance to be well out of sight of the Eldrin guard patrols. The dragon sets me down in a rocky clearing screened by tall trees.
“Zandar, will you wait here until I return?”
You say we are allies but you do not wish me to meet your kin?
“It might go better if I explain to them first that we are allies.”
As you wish.
I can’t help finding his non-committal compliance seriously unnerving. Discovering the alarming differences in our assumptions and reactions has left me trying to second-guess the outcome of every conversation. Something else has been worrying me as well.
“Zandar, how often do you need to eat?”
He looks offended.
Disgusting human habit. Elementals derive power directly from the forces of nature. Clean. Pure.
“How much disruption is that going to cause?”
Drought. Forest fires. Depends on how the balance of elements is affected.
Something else I should have negotiated before now, especially as he seems to share none of my concern over it.
“Can you try to keep it to a minimum? I won’t be away for long.”
As you wish.
I set off for Blackthorn Manor with a heavy sense of foreboding. Desiccated farms and immolated villages will lie heavy on my conscience if I fail to get back in time to avert another Elemental disaster.
I’m guessing that I have little chance of being allowed through the main gate. I have no way of knowing if the Eldrin are still maintaining the story of my guilt in the attempted murder of crown prince Sarinder. Unless they have discovered the real perpetrators, I have to assume they are continuing the deception while they track and spy on every suspect.
Even without my renewed association with Shadow, I am unlikely to be welcome here on so many counts.
Dodging the Eldrin forest patrols is easy, and for the first time I notice just how much additional stealth and silence I have acquired from Nishan training. Something to mention to Marin when I find him, a warning that even though the emphasis with Eldrin discipline is on small groups working closely together, it is still too focused on full scale military tactics to be truly versatile.
I search for the narrow cleft in the rock that marks the entrance to the hidden escape tunnel, reflecting that I seem to have become embroiled in one of the most thankless tasks in the history of Samaran. Only a few weeks ago I was on my way to becoming a trusted ally of the Eldrin, sent to learn the secrets of this concealed passageway in case I needed to help the King escape an attack on the Manor. Now I’m forced to use it to sneak back inside like the guilty assassin that most of the military commanders already assume I am. It would be just my bad luck to discover that an entire unit of heavily-armed guards has been posted inside since I was last here.
There are no torches at this end of the tunnel and in any case I don’t want to risk a light. I count steps from memory to reach the spot below the access ledge, running my hand across the wall in the darkness. The familiar handhold slips into my palm like a welcoming key and I follow the series of steep moves to the upper ledge. Brushing aside cobwebs and dust, I inch my way along the ledge, measuring seven arm-lengths to the narrow funnel leading to the far side of the stone door that blocks the way at ground level.
A long pause at the opening in the ceiling that leads back into the main tunnel, but I hear nothing. Surely the Eldrin would have placed a guard here after the last security breach?
Maybe they have put all their trust in the secrecy and complexity of this escape route.
Or maybe the guards are stationed at the exit in the library?
I drop silently to the floor, making the decision to divert through the link into the internal passageways of this strange house. And, much to my surprise, I emerge without hindrance into one of the storerooms. It occurs to me that the link might have been added recently by the Duke and maybe Marin doesn’t know about it. Something I should check with him before Farang’s spies discover it and use it to gain access for another assassination attempt.
Nishan training has taught me how to silence the subtle sound of my heartbeat and breathing to focus intently on the slightest noise. There is something strange happening here. I sense a great crowd of people gathered in the main audience chamber, while the rest of the place is almost deserted except for the guard patrols.
I use the back stairs above the servant’s quarters to dodge the patrols, then work my way back to the minstrels’ gallery above the great hall. I inch silently forward, my chainmail masked by black Nishan fatigues that blend with the shadows.
Two armed guards. Eldrin, but they won’t be enough protection if something bad intrudes on whatever is happening here. They are unlikely to tolerate my presence in such a strategic vantage point so I’ll have to get rid of them.
It takes only seconds of Nishan stealth, silence, and a more effective pressure-point than the one Marin once used on me. I lower each man quietly to the floor and step past their unconscious bodies to peer over the balustrade at what is playing out in the hall below.
The whole place is crowded with richly-dressed aristocrats and their bodyguards. Seems like the cream of Samaran’s nobility has gathered here. From the hushed whispers and the wide avenue they have left down the middle of the hall, I can only assume they are waiting for someone.
Probably King Tandarion himself, although the last I heard, Marin was planning to keep his father and his cousin safely out of sight while maintaining the story that the King and Sarinder had been moved to a different location. It was one final attempt to elude the spies our treacherous Lord Farang has had too many years to plant in every corner of the country.
This fancy gathering doesn’t meld at all convincingly with the desperate rearguard fighting I saw playing out in the Blade’s mirror when we first arrived in the mountains of Annubia.
And the mirror does not lie.
Something has changed here since I left Samaran. The uneasy feeling that has haunted me since I arrived back in my own country is growing stronger by the minute. My training in Rahimar has kept me away for too long.
An imposing, regal couple walk slowly through the arched entrance to the hall below. I stare at them for several moments, wondering why I cannot make any sense of what I am seeing. The man is tall, crowned with the gold circlet of a Samaran prince, his hair and cropped beard a glossy jet-black, all of which mark him a stranger to me.
And yet he isn’t. I know every subtle movement in the way he confidently strides forward, the way he holds his head. The way his arm gently supports the elegant hand of the woman walking at his side.
She is dazzlingly beautiful, her hair glittering with a cluster of bright turquoise jewels before flowing over her shoulders in a cascade of auburn curls that I would know anywhere. At last the painful jolt of recognition stabs through me as the couple seem to morph into full focus in front of my eyes. Even under the heavy makeup and rich brocade wedding dress, I would know my sister anywhere.
And the man Alina is marrying is Marin.
I don’t understand his black hair and beard disguise any more than I can figure out why he is getting married, why he is arrayed in glittering royal purple robes and the gold band of a crown prince of the realm. All I know is the pain of utter betrayal stabbing through my heart. After everything I have gone through to save him from breaking his oath to the Eldrin, he couldn’t even wait out the few weeks I have been away?
And marrying my sister is not even part of that last desperate plan to claim the crown and snatch victory from the invaders!
My hand is shaking as I nock an arrow and take aim. My mind is too tortured and confused to even be sure who I am trying to kill, my faithless lover, my treacherous sister, or the High Priestess of the Five Warriors who is waiting for them at the far end of the hall as the trumpets blare out in celebration.
This is all so wrong, so insane…