Storm Surge Page 12

Breton winced. “The Rift, however, was notified.”

  “And the Rift is not responsible for the identities of the Shadow Captains,” Silvereye replied curtly.

  “His Majesty is not going to like that at all.” Maiten said with a shake of his head. “He does everything in his control to deny his birthright.”

  “Of course, Satoren Delrose would be well aware of the potential situation should he return to Kelsh, so has come with an assumed name. The Rift King sends initialed missives. There’s no reason for anyone to believe our Kalen is the same as the Rift King. It’s simple, and it’s easy. That said, it will become known in certain circles of his true identity. When word reaches King Aelthor, he will act. The existence of Satoren Delrose would change a great deal of things.”

  Breton snorted. “And cause a great deal of political complications when the betrothed of the Kelshite princess reappears after an offer of marriage to the Rift King has been extended. This will not end well. Assuming, of course, you can convince Kalen to go with this plan. I sincerely doubt that he will. If anything, I think it will shatter what little control of his temper he has left. If you want to anger him, that might be a very good way to do it.”

  Climbing to his feet, Maiten pointed down at the Mithrian. “You’re insane, I hope you know. Absolutely insane.”

  Captain Silvereye chuckled. “I find this amusing coming from a man who calls the Rift his home. I’ve been there once. It’s not exactly a hospitable place.”

  Maiten crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at the captain. “Can you truly do that? Make him a Shadow Captain?”

  “I can.”

  “Why?”

  Captain Silvereye smiled. “Maybe I like him. He’s interesting. While he’s opinionated and unafraid to speak his mind, he is pleasant to work with, smart, and a good negotiator. He cares about his duty. I look at him, and I can’t help but wonder how formidable he will be when his sight returns.”

  Breton flinched. “If his sight returns.”

  “If,” Captain Silvereye conceded with a sigh. “If his sight returns, I suspect he will be extremely formidable. I’d like to see him in action. This war is dangerous. I mean it when I say you are inadequate to protect him, through no fault of your own. This is the only way I know of to protect him. In order to end the hostilities between Kelsh and Danar, he will be needed. The Six will be called together, and I’d like to see him live long enough to attend. A new Rift King now would be unfortunate. If my guess is correct, he’s the only man with the knowledge and skill required to negotiate terms for peace after the initial war fades.”

  “What do you think outing him as Satoren Delrose will do other than make him an even larger target?” Breton asked warily.

  “I suspect when King Aelthor learns Satoren is alive, he will turn his attentions from his alliances with Danar and focus all of his efforts on Satoren. Unless the relationship between Danar and Kelsh are more extensive than I’m aware of, the reappearance of Satoren Delrose should cause a great deal of trouble for Kelsh’s king. Lord Delrose’s firstborn is the rightful heir to the Kelsh throne, if my understanding is correct. The Kelshite Princess might be Aelthor’s child, but the reins of power are in Satoren Delrose’s hands, should he choose to stand forward and take them.”

  “Are you proposing that His Majesty join the Mithrian war council and take Kelsh’s throne?” Maiten asked with wide eyes.

  “Why, I might be considering such a thing,” Captain Silvereye said, grinning.

  Breton covered his face with his hands and groaned. “It’s like there are two of him.”

  “Your foal would never consider taking the Kelshite throne, Breton. If he wanted it, he could’ve had it several times over already,” Maiten said with far too much cheer. “And here we held hope that you were responsible, Captain Silvereye.”

  “I am being responsible,” the Mithrian replied, making a displeased huffing noise. “The Rift King is far too important to risk or lose at the current time. An ignorant man on the Rift’s throne would bring disaster for the Six. Worse, it would bring disaster for the smaller kingdoms protected by the existence of the Council—no, let me correct myself. It would bring disaster to the smaller kingdoms that have been sheltered and protected by the Rift King’s influence. His predecessor had no cares for the kingdoms outside of the Six. I doubt his successor will prove an acceptable replacement.”

  It was Maiten who sighed and voiced Breton’s worse fears by saying, “You may be fighting an already lost battle. His Majesty’s current state is not promising.”

  “And that is all the more reason I feel that I should elevate him to Shadow Captain as soon as possible. He must be protected, Guardians. I won’t claim to know all of your customs. But I can’t sit here and do nothing. I have been thinking hard about your request, Guardian Breton, and the implications of it. Mistakes were made by both you and me. Those mistakes will not be repeated when your witch returns the Rift King to the company.”

  Breton closed his eyes and wondered if they were about to make an error so profound there would be no undoing the damage they might cause. “You assume he will cooperate. He is not one to forgo the Covenant so easily.”

  “You assume I will give him a choice in the matter,” Captain Silvereye replied. “I do not intend to give him a choice. You will do what is necessary to bring my two into your order as Guardians. I will handle the Rift King and his elevation to captaincy. He will not refuse.”

  Running his hands through his hair, Breton considered the Mithrian out of the corner of his eye. Despite the evening gloom, there was no mistaking the smug confidence in Silvereye’s expression. “Who are the two you want to make into Guardians?” he asked.

  “My Second-in-Command, Moritta. I think you will find her well suited for the job of protecting His Majesty. The Yadesh have proposed Derac Delrose, His Majesty’s cousin by blood.”

  Breton winced. “You are trying to get us killed, aren’t you? I’ve met Derac. He’s still upset that his cousin didn’t bother to tell his family that he was still alive. He’s done everything in his power to avoid His Majesty. As for your mare, that will entirely matter on if you can convince him to trust her. He is wary around mares, I’m afraid. Most have designs for him and he’s aware of it.”

  With a laugh, Captain Silvereye waved his hand in dismissal of Breton’s concerns. “I think you’ll find her perfectly suited for the task, Guardian. Much to the disappointment of many a young man within the company, she favors other women. I have heard a little of your customs regarding the Rift King and his Queens. I thought this would make her ideal for him.”

  “You realize that we are not simply breaking the Covenant, but—”

  Maiten’s laugh startled Breton into silence. “Burning it in its entirety in our effort to preserve it? It’s something he will find amusing.”

  Captain Silvereye smiled. “I intend to put him in charge of a notable portion of the Crimson Eye. This should keep him sufficiently busy and out of trouble. He will handle all of the Guardians and their interactions with the company. He will also be in charge of small group of the company’s best horsemen and skirmishers. I think you will find the Crimson Eye will welcome the new additions to the ranks as I have been informed many are quite taken with the little runt.”

  “Little runt?” Breton choked out, torn between laughter and being offended.

  Maiten snorted before breaking out in merry chortling. “Well, he is.”

  Coughing to hide his own chuckle, Breton said, “I would not tell that to him, Captain Silvereye.”

  “Oh, I already have. For a blind man, he has superior aim. He tried to remove my head with a boot. He did, however, laugh. That’s part of why we like him.”

  Breton frowned. Laughter wasn’t something he’d heard from the his foal in longer than he liked to admit. “There may be a flaw in your plans. It is important to understand that once your two mercenaries are made into Guardians, it is impossible to reverse what is done. It is perma
nent. Is your Moritta willing to accept this? Is Derac? I’m hesitant to perform the ritual on anyone who isn’t fully willing.”

  Sitting straighter, Captain Silvereye met his gaze. “We have discussed the possibility that it would be a permanent arrangement. It is a sacrifice they are both willing to make. We came to Kelsh knowing that we risked violation of the Covenant despite our arrangements with our hire. We are in a position to lose a great deal should our gambit fail to work. While unexpected, the Rift King and the Rift play a major part in what we wish to accomplish. She understands this. I understand this. As for young Derac, I think he will surprise you. Both of the Yadesh agree with my idea. I have already spoken to him. He is displeased with His Majesty’s handling of certain situations, that is all. I think you’ll find that once the air is cleared between them, Derac will make a fine protector for the Rift King.”

  “It could work, Breton. It’s an equitable exchange. We certainly can’t ask Captain Silvereye to become a Guardian. By having his Second, he is showing us just how serious he is about this. Derac’s a serious man, so don’t discount him so readily,” Maiten said.

  Sighing at his friend’s blunt observations, Breton tried to think of a good reason not to play into the Mithrian’s hand. All it left him with was a headache behind his brow. “I think it would be wise to summon Moritta, Delaven, and Derac so we can explain to them at length what it means to become a Guardian.”

  “Are you seriously considering this?” Ceres gasped out.

  Breton opened his mouth to answer Kalen’s foal, but Maiten cut him off with a wave of his hand.

  “Let me answer this one, old friend. Ceres, Captain Silvereye is correct on too many counts. I think it’s been proved that we four are not sufficient protection. When we make new Guardians, he will come directly to us. His Majesty has not experienced the creation of a new Guardian, but I’ve been involved with the process enough times to know that it will have a very strong impact on him.” Getting to his feet, Maiten went to his horse and stroked his gelding.

  “Arik said it was quite painful until physical contact with his new Guardians was established,” Breton added, wincing a bit of at the memory of the former Rift King’s agonized expression following the rituals. “Nerisan said so as well.”

  “We’re going to hurt him?” Ceres asked in dismay.

  When Maiten glanced at him with a helpless expression, Breton sighed. “It won’t cause him any lasting harm, Ceres. In addition to alerting His Majesty, it’s entirely possible that all of the other Guardians will feel what happened. It might draw them to us faster, which I would certainly welcome. Four of us—seven if we count the new ones—simply isn’t enough, considering the current circumstances.”

  ~~*~~

  While Captain Silvereye went hunting for Moritta, Delaven, and Derac, Breton questioned his decision. The consequences of his actions could change the kingdoms. It could turn his Kalen, the foal he had rescued from Kelsh on a whim, into something far more dangerous than just the Rift King.

  Kalen would have sway and rule over the most influential kingdoms on the entire continent. If the other kingdoms rose up and allied with Danar, they might have a force large enough to withstand the Rift’s new rule.

  The thought terrified Breton as much as it intrigued him.

  “You’re thinking dark thoughts,” Maiten announced. “If you frown much more, old friend, it’ll become permanent.”

  “You mean it isn’t already?” Ceres asked incredulously.

  Maiten laughed. “He smiles only when certain no one is watching.”

  “Enjoy yourselves while you can. I think I’ll sacrifice you first, Ceres, in order to maximize my chances of survival when His Majesty finds out what we’ve done.”

  “Which will be in about ten minutes,” Maiten replied, grinning with glee. “It’s about time we’ve gotten the better of the little runt.”

  “Maiten!” Ceres pointed at the red-haired Guardian. “Have some respect.”

  “Absolutely not. If he wants respect, he can come over here and demand it of me.”

  Breton rubbed at his forehead as Ferethian reached out and bit the recalcitrant Guardian on the arm. The scuffle between horse and man ended with the black stallion placing a hoof on Maiten’s chest, teeth snapping without closing on flesh or bone.

  While he doubted Ferethian would hurt Maiten, if either one of them were injured, Breton would pay the price. “Enough, foals, unless you want us all to be whipped.”

  “I’d like to see him bring you lot in line,” Captain Silvereye said, emerging from the darkness. A young, blond-haired woman followed slightly behind and to his left. Delaven came next, looking anxious, leaving Derac to bring up the rear, frowning as he joined them.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get that chance. We were discussing sacrificing Ceres first. He might survive his father’s wrath,” Maiten replied cheerfully. “You must be Moritta.”

  The woman dipped into a shallow bow. “Guardian Maiten.”

  “I’m really surprised you’re here, Derac,” Maiten said in a quiet voice.

  The Kelshite straightened. “I’m going to flatten my cousin later about this, have no doubts. He didn’t tell me who he was. I had wondered, seeing my uncle and him go at each other’s throats, but I hadn’t known for certain. Satrin told me today. So, here I am.”

  “When you try, just know he fights dirty,” Maiten replied, grinning.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Should we take this elsewhere?” Captain Silvereye asked.

  Breton shook his head, picking up the sheathed Gorishitorik. “Here is fine, Captain Silvereye. This will not take long at all. It is a blood oath and little else. But, it is my duty to explain to you what you are getting yourselves into.”

  Both Moritta and Delaven straightened, watching him with interest. Neither spoke. Derac nodded.

  “In your first days as a Guardian, you will be herded by another Guardian. He will guide you in your duties, help you adapt, and tell you all you need to do in order to survive under the rule of the Rift King. Ceres will herd you, Delaven. You will answer to him, to the Rift King, and to me. Maiten, you’ll herd Moritta. You will answer to Maiten, to me, and to the Rift King. Derac, I will herd you. You will answer to me and to the Rift King. All other Guardians are your herd mates. You will swear on your shed blood that you will protect, nurture, and guard the Rift King from harm.”

  He considered mentioning that their duties also included protecting others from the Rift King, but he decided against it. If it became a problem, they’d learn the truth soon enough. Unsheathing the Rift King’s sword, he held the blade out. “This is Gorishitorik, the King Slayer. With one cut of this, you will be forever bound to the Rift King and to the Rift. Do you understand?”

  Narrowing his eyes, he searched their faces for any sign of doubt or uncertainty.

  There was none.

  “I understand,” Derac said without hesitation.

  Breton wondered if insanity was an inherited trait of the Delrose line.

  “I understand,” Moritta said, her voice clear and quiet.

  Delaven nodded. “I also understand.”

  “I will begin with you, Delaven. Hold out your left hand, palm up. You as well, Ceres.” Once both obeyed, Breton tightened his grip on Gorishitorik and placed the blade across Ceres’s wrist. The blade cut through skin with no resistance. Blood welled up from the wound. Ceres winced, but remained still. Before Delaven could react, Breton did the same to him.

  Gorishitorik’s blade glowed with a silver light. The eyes of the serpent on the guard turned black, devouring the illumination. Then, blazing with the brightness of the sun, the horse’s eyes flashed gold. Stowing the blade under his arm, Breton seized Ceres and Delaven’s wrists and pressed the bleeding wounds together. “Don’t move.”

  In Gorishitorik’s light, Breton watched Delaven pale by several shades. Once he was certain neither was going to move, he took up the blade and placed the wet ed
ge of the blade against his own wrist. The metal was hot to the touch, cooling as it sliced through his skin. The glow of the blade changed to the pale blue of a winter sky. Breton’s skin crawled as though serpents slithered in his veins.

  When the glow faded away, Breton lifted the weapon away from his skin. The wound writhed and closed, leaving behind a silvery scar no thicker than a hair.

  Ceres shook out his arm while Delaven stood stunned. Leaving the new Guardian to Ceres, Breton turned to Moritta.

  “That’s it?” she asked.

  Breton smiled, said nothing, and gestured invitingly with the Rift King’s sword. Without hesitation, Moritta thrust out her left arm. When it was Derac’s turn, the Kelshite likewise held his arm out without a word.

  Chapter Nine

  Pain stabbed up Kalen’s arm. He hissed, tried to pull his wrist to his chest, and froze as realization struck him.

  His right hand didn’t hurt any more than usual. The unnerving sensation of his phantom left arm was coupled with a throb so strong it stirred the memories of the Danarite Priest breaking the bones in his hand, one by one. A shudder tore through him, a cold sweat trailing down his brown.

  The Lord Priest’s laughter rang in his memories.

  “Your Majesty?” Crysallis’s cry was sharp with alarm.

  He wanted to reply, but his non-existent arm hurt so much he couldn’t force a single word out. The worst of the agony centered in his hand, but it spread to his wrist and ever upward until it reached his shoulder. From there, it lit every nerve in his body on fire.

  His legs buckled beneath him, and with a curse, Crysallis caught him under his arm, sparing his head from bouncing against the ground. With a jerk, the witch created a globe of light over them. Kalen floundered, struggling to draw a deep breath to ease the burning in his lungs.

  “What’s wrong?” Crysallis lowered him to the ground, sinking down so she could rest his head against her leg. Before he could reply, she took hold of his hand, applying pressure in search of the source of the pain.