The Sword and The Mountain (Kathardra book 1)

“Any cider for you lot?” Kilee asked shortly after they had all taken seats at a table. “It’s quite strong this evening.”

“I’ll have some,” Worran said with a wolfish smile.

“I’ll-”

“No.” Both Zar and Worran cut Lessa off.

“The rest of us will have water,” Zar told Kilee.

The serving girl eyed them but said nothing as she moved to the next table.

“What?” Lessa looked between them, slightly hurt.

“Lessa, wielders can not drink,” Zar said sternly.

“What, like, never?”

Cinder was shaking his head, bemused, but did not offer a comment.

“Yes Lessa,” Worran said, “let’s mix all of your magic with the inhibitions and impaired decision-making of alcohol.”

Lessa rested her chin on her hands and glowered at the table.

It wasn’t long before a small loaf of bread was dropped in the middle of their table, along with four bowls of hearty stew. Lessa was just taking her last bites when the door opened and guards walked through the door. She stiffened, but foolishly, they continued to the bar and placed orders for drinks.

More and more men, a few with women in tow, drifted through the door. Most of them were soldiers, and Lessa suspected that those not in uniform were just not on duty.

When the tavern was mostly full, and most of Worran’s drink was gone he held his hand in front of Zar. Into the waiting palm Zar dropped a few coins and Worran tucked them away, while he made his way to a table where a group of men were playing a card game.

“So, he’s just going to play games?” Lessa asked, watching Worran clap a man on the back forced space for himself.

Zar nodded. “For now, that’s all he needs to do. He’ll figure out who is loose-lipped and become that man’s best friend. He will probably lose a lot of coins to that man in particular.”

“We’re just going to sit here and watch Worran drink and play games?”

Zar blew out a breath as he eyed his empty bowl.

Cinder chuckled, “I’m getting old, and I for one, will be happy to sit here and watch. And I look forward to sleeping in a bed tonight rather than sleeping on the ground. It’s not good for my bones.”

“Haven’t you been ‘getting old’ for a couple of centuries?” Lessa said, skepticism painted on her face.

“And I’ve had aching bones the entire time! All the more reason to want a soft bed. I’ve forgotten what it is to be old enough to forget to be young! Parading around with you youth has caused me to remember, and I’m not fond of it.”

“I can’t sit here all night.” Lessa stood. “I’m going for a walk.”

Zar grabbed her arm and shook his head, “Too dangerous,” he mouthed.

“Then come with me.”

His eyes flicked to Worran for a brief moment.

“Oh go on,” Cinder said with a wave. “I’ll stay with him. Go have some alone time.”

Lessa’s eyes flashed to Cinder, but his own remained fixed on the game. The corners of his mouth gave the barest suggestion of an upturn.

Lessa could feel her face heating and she didn’t dare look at Zar.

The air outside of the tavern was hardly fresh, but it wasn’t stifled by four walls. Lessa filled her lungs before she turned to the left and started along the street that curved along the castle wall.

At her side, Zar asked, “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere. Anywhere. I’ve been conditioned to move every evening. I can’t sit still… It’s almost nice out here, now that there aren’t so many people.”

Zar hummed a noncommittal response.

Before long the road they walked upon intersected with a wide thoroughfare. To their left the unfathomable wall was barred with an intricate iron worked gate. A line of stationary soldiers stood both before and behind the gate.

“Just keep moving,” Zar said, as Lessa hesitated. They turned to the right and started down the ultra-wide street. A block away a pleasant trickling sound filled the air, its source, a grand fountain stood in an open square.

Drawn by the soothing splashing Lessa wandered to the fountain and sat on its edge. She crossed one knee over the other, kicking her skirt as she moved, propped an elbow up, and leaned her chin on her hands. In his usual, taking up too much space kind of way, Zar sat next to her and they both stared toward the Mountain.

“Are we a little crazy?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, but then said “Maybe.” And Lessa could hear the smile in his voice.

“Maybe we should just fly Storm in?”

His easy smile was gone. “The entire castle would know we are there.”

Lessa paused. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“If we waited for a cloudy night we could ride them close, then drop down onto the top. I don’t think anybody would see us that way.”

His eyes found the gray clouds gathering in the darkening sky above the castle Then shook his head. “It would be better if we went on foot. Can Storm even carry all of us?”

“I don’t think so. Two, easily. Three, maybe. All four would be a stretch.”

“No. If we can just find a side door in, then we can find Golathar and… end this.”

Lessa tilted her head and looked over at Zar, his eyes sat heavily upon her.

It had been over a week of sitting at the tavern every evening, watching Worran get soldiers drunk, and gamble away all their money with very little payoff. It was a wonder Lessa could get her dinner into her mouth with how hard she was clenching her teeth. She was going to go crazy here.

A chuckle nearly wiggled from Lessa, the irony. She would go crazy because she was no longer hearing a voice in her head. Storm didn’t dare come closer to the city until well after midnight. She woke Lessa from a dead sleep each night to check in for just a few minutes before she went back to the mountains.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” she pressed Zar, not for the first time.

“Worran can do this,” Zar said, with an admirable amount of trust.

“This is how things go.” Cinder had recently acquired a pipe and was puffing on it. “Espionage is mostly waiting for information to fall in your lap.”

“Here she is now!” Worran said loudly, and somewhat slurred. “Come here, little sister.” His hand waved to beckon her over.

"I imagine that will be our information now," Cinder said dryly around his pipe.

Lessa stared at him. He was standing at the bar, next to a uniformed man who was atop a stool.

Worran tripped his way through the bar to Lessa, he grabbed the shoulder of her dress and pulled her from her chair. “Why can’t you ever listen,” he grumbled.

Worran dragged her to the other side of the room to stand here before the soldier. “She wants a job in the castle.”

The man dragged his eyes from her boots to her hair, where they fixed on the solitary slim braid among her loose curls. “Married?”

Before Lessa could answer, Worran slung his arm around her shoulders and said “Yes, she’s married to him.” He thrust his tankard behind him in the vague direction of their table. “So she needs a job and not a man. You said you know someone in the castle.”

“No, I said I know someone who knows someone in the castle.”

“What’s the difference?” Worran said cheerfully.

“I do want a job in the castle.” Lessa pushed Worran off of her shoulders. “They pay well, right?”

The soldier grunted.

“When can I meet your friend of a friend?”

The skin on the back of Lessa’s neck rose at the predatory gleam in the man’s eye. “He happens to be on duty tonight. Care to go for a stroll?”

Lessa’s hesitation lasted only a moment before she gave the man a tight nod.

“Bring your brother,” he said, dropping coins on the counter and dodging his way toward the door.

Lessa’s eyes met Zar’s and she shook her head, clearly relaying don’t follow. “Come on brother.” Lessa seized Worran’s arm and dragged him behind her.

“Where is it that we are going?” Lessa asked, trotting to keep up with the man while also pulling Worran.

“The guard house.”

That was really specific.

The man took a route that had become familiar to Lessa, but instead of turning to go to the fountain he went straight across the thoroughfare and knocked on the solid wooden door of a stone building.

The door swung inward revealing more guards.

“I thought you were off duty, Stan?” the man inside said once he saw Lessa’s escort. “I am. These folk want to talk to Julthien about a job in the castle.”

A new man came to the door, “What do I know about a job in the castle?” he barked.

Lessa froze, she didn’t actually know, but Worran, still stumbling and slurring cut in.

“Stan said your woman is a washerwoman…” Worran paused and laughed at his repetition.

“Aye, she is. Don’t mean you can get a job there.” Julthien started swinging the door shut. Worran slammed his hand against it, belying how inebriated he was, then he dropped his shoulder lazily against it and chuckled stupidly.

“Please,” Lessa begged. “I’m a hard worker. I will be a testament to the name of... Your girl.”

Julthien hesitated, his eyes appraising Lessa.

“Please. I need it. I’ll do any work she gives me.”

He folded his arms and leaned against the door frame. “You ever done washing before?”

She promptly lied. “Yes.”

“I can’t guarantee you a job.”

“A recommendation would be good enough.”

“Fine,” Julthien agreed.

“Thank you!” Lessa grabbed Worran and pulled one of his arms over her shoulder, hoping to prevent him from annoying this man now that they had gotten the answer they needed.

“But it’ll cost you.”

With Lessa’s arms busy trying to control Worran’s loose limbs she did not have time to avoid Julthien’s hand. It snaked out and snagged the pendant around her neck. She couldn’t even breathe an interjection before the thin chain snapped.

In unison, Lessa and Worran both went rigid.

Flames flames flames…

Lessa’s chin raised very slowly, and she could see the shocked expression on Julthien’s face. There was no chance he didn’t recognize her, the necklace hung slack across the palm of his frozen hand.

Maybe she could knock him out. But her eyes rose to the men scattered in the room behind him, a few of them were also frozen in shocked silence. Catching sight of their reactions, more men were turning their heads.

How many? A dozen. Too many.

First to react was Worran, his head swiftly turned to her and he hissed in her ear, “Run, get out of the city. We will find you.” And he shoved her hard.

Reflexes honed sharp kept Lessa on her feet. She darted away from Worran and only looked back briefly. He was struggling with the guard in the doorway.

“Stop her!” A voice shouted behind Lessa. Thankfully nobody heeded the call. But people were staring at her as she ran.

She could hear the exclamations left in her wake.

“Did you see?”

“It’s her!”

“I never thought-”

If she was caught, she was dead. That simple.

Lessa dodged down an empty side street, grateful that not many people were out this time of night.

She slowed to a walk just at the other side of the alley, strolling out of it like nothing was wrong, forcing her breathing to slow down.

A bugling horn blared up from the direction Lessa had come. She froze and looked around as more horns took up the call. The few people in the street stood just as still as Lessa, their eyes cast around, then at each other.

Lessa made the mistake of meeting the eyes of a balding man standing close to her. Even in the near dark, his eyes went wide with recognition.

“It’s you!” he cried out.

Lessa shook her head and backed away, panic rearing once again. “No, no.” she managed before a woman several yards away gasped and her hands covered her mouth.

Lessa again found herself sprinting down the street. But now soldiers were gathering as if from nowhere.

She ducked swiftly behind a barrel set out to collect rainwater.

Sucking each breath in quietly was a struggle. She peeked from her hiding spot down the street. Under the horns that were still blaring, soldiers were sweeping the road, looking as confused as anyone. They didn’t seem to be doing anything, aside from marching the streets.

Coming up with the only meager plan she could, Lessa untied the long skirt from about her waist and pulled it over her head like a cloak. It was the best she could come up with.

Lessa stood quickly and strode down the road with her chin raised, but eyes downcast.

At any moment her pounding heart would betray her, she knew it. But she walked right by a group of soldiers, they didn’t look twice.

A slow pent-up breath eased from Lessa’s lungs. She could do this. If she just kept moving, just kept walking she would be alright.

Slowly, the tremble eased from Lessa’s fingers and her legs felt steadier.

Until she was yanked backward by her makeshift cloak. It ripped free from her hands and Lessa twirled to see an armored man holding it in his hand, looking directly at Lessa.

She turned and bolted.

“Here! Stop that girl!”

A man stepped in front of Lessa and she skipped around his side, spinning around him. Hands grabbed her arms, Lessa dropped to the ground and instinct shot her leg out and she swept the man’s legs out from under him.

Another soldier stepped in her path the moment she started running again, his brothers-in-arms swarmed around Lessa.

Lessa drew her sword, in the dark of night the blade was difficult to see, but not so much that the men didn’t gasp once they saw her blade. Lessa cursed her stupidity when the sounds of dozens of swords being drawn surrounded her.

She dipped into her magic and sent a wild blast in all directions, most of the men flew back away from her, a couple stood, their magical shields invisible in the dark of night.

Honing in on a single man Lessa assaulted him with a concentrated blast of power, his shield broke and he slammed into a wagon behind him.

She turned to the next wielder, he looked at her with fright, his shield dropped and he stumbled backward, tripping over one of his fallen companions.

The fallen soldiers were starting to rise, a sword fell and Lessa blocked it instinctually, she reached under her sword and blasted the man even further backward.

She used another omnidirectional blast, sending the closest men back to the ground, but at the risk of hurting civilians, she couldn’t do more.

A blast hit Lessa in the back, she cried out as she fell toward the ground, but she caught herself and turned just in time to shield another attack.

She might have used too much, but Lessa shot a blast of air toward him and he skittered across the ground until he hit the corner of a building, he was already trying to rise, dazed.

As fast as a snake, Lessa danced around three more men, using her sword to turn aside their weapons, and her magic to drop them to the ground. Methodically Lessa worked her way down the street south, leaving bodies lying behind her, unconscious or struggling to rise.

Finally clear of the chaos, Lessa turned to run, but an arm grabbed her own. Lessa twisted to free herself but there were more arms, too many, a cloth covered her mouth. The world went black.