Storm Surge Read online

  “His Majesty found the Danarites. By the time we arrived, they had killed all but one of the women. It took one look for him to lose control. Just one. He ascended and tore them to shreds. He was brutal and merciless.” Maiten’s hands balled into fists. “When only the woman remained, Tavener went to him and he changed back—without his arm. The price of his power.” The red-haired Guardian bowed his head with a shudder.

  Breton swallowed. “What do you mean by ascended, Maiten? Like in Morinvale?”

  With a bitter laugh, his friend shook his head. “Him in Morinvale? That was nothing. Nothing. In full, old friend. He ascended in full. Arik never had, not like Kalen, and I don’t think he ever could. He was the true and proper Rift King within his first month, and I swore not to speak of it. He asked me not to. He understood our traditions and didn’t want to break them. Where Arik was a black, terrible thing, Kalen…” Maiten swallowed, staring down at his gelding’s neck. “I sometimes wish you could have seen him, Breton. He was so beautiful. Vicious, dangerous, and terrifying, but beautiful.”

  Breton remembered Morinvale and the Rift King’s golden arm. Instead of flesh, his scaled hide had been tufted with fur, partnered with curved talons better fit for a hawk than a man. “And Delaven’s dam?”

  “She adored him and the thing he had become to save her. I can’t blame her. Do you remember Arik’s ascension, such as it was?”

  A shudder tore through Breton. “I remember.”

  Arik’s transformation had never been complete, resulting in a twisted, bent creature with a black, oozing hide. In a way, the former Rift King had resembled a skreed, but with a more human body and a man’s face.

  “Sometimes it frightens me when all I can remember of it was how wonderful he was even as he ripped the Danarites to shreds. That’s when he lost his arm. There was no pain with its loss. It was just gone when he once again became human. He was a sun in glory, gold and white.”

  Breton straightened at his memory of the white, gold, and blue creature the skreed had desired, the one it had named Eldest. Had it meant Kalen when ascended? Was that possible? The possibility chilled him. The mark the skreed had branded into him still ached sometimes, ensuring he couldn’t forget about when he had first met one within the Rift. Shivering, he turned the conversation away from what his foal had become to the Mithrian woman by asking, “How did she become an Akakashani?”

  “I’m not really sure. When they talked, it was in Kelshite, and they spoke too quickly for me to understand. She told him what happened, that the Danarites had claimed them to become their mates.” Maiten’s expression and tone darkened. “They killed them afterwards, when they didn’t prove to be with child. They were saving her for last.”

  Breton sucked in a breath. There wasn’t a word in the Rifter language for what the Danarites had done to the women, so he said in Kelshite, “They raped them.”

  “That’s the word His Majesty used. He didn’t tell me what it meant.”

  How could Breton explain the concept of rape to someone who admired, respected, and loved women? He wasn’t sure how, so he shook his head in denial. He froze, his eyes widening when he realized that his foal had purposefully kept Maiten away from places where rape was an open secret, including Kelsh. While rape existed in Mithrias, it was a secret shame for both men and women, and not discussed in casual conversation. “He spoke to you in the month you two were gone? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “He spoke very little to me. Hellfires, Breton. I wasn’t going to try my luck with him like that. He was as likely to kill me as not. I was the only Guardian with him. I had no hope of containing him if he lashed out. When he spoke to me, I did what he asked of me and was grateful he didn’t turn on me. But I guess I wasn’t at much risk, was I? He was never as violent as Arik. He did only what was necessary.” Maiten sighed. “He didn’t want me there for my conversation and wit, I presume. I don’t know why he picked me. Most of the time, he spoke to her. He didn’t really need me at all.”

  “That is not how I imagined it went,” Breton admitted after thinking over his friend’s words. In his nightmares, the Rift King remained on the edge of violence, controlled only by his Guardian’s interference. “He didn’t speak much after you two returned either.”

  “I don’t know how much he remembers of it. By the time he returned to Blind Mare Run, he was subdued. There were quite a few attempts on his life in the Lower Reaches. And of course he wouldn’t let me discourage the thrice-blasted fools.” Maiten scowled and he shook his head. “No more, though. I’m done watching him try to protect himself. No one ever needed to be protected from him. He’s always been the victim, and we’ve done nothing but watch.”

  “I understand. But perhaps we need to think about how best to do that so he doesn’t get too angry with us again,” Breton replied in as soothing a tone as he could. If they hadn’t smothered him, Kalen wouldn’t be separated from them. Guilt tightened his throat and chest. “We’ll do better this time.”

  “It’s strange, Breton,” Maiten admitted in a quiet voice.

  “What’s strange?”

  “He’s changed everything. Right from the beginning, he was changing things. He was an outsider who became our King, who defied the odds, and who refused to die. He changed his new Akakashani from someone afraid to someone determined to repay her debt to him in any way possible. When she left, she said she would go to Mithrias, where she had been born. He gave me to her and ordered me to visit at least every other year, more often if my duties allowed. And so he created a Mithrian Akakashani. If Delaven’s here, she knows. She must. She’s cunning. Hellfires, Breton, she probably goaded him into making a run for it, knowing he’d pick Silvereye’s company. People are pawns in every game she plays—and all for His Majesty. She doesn’t report half of what she should to him.”

  Breton stared at his friend, sighed, and said, “You never ramble this much. What are you really trying to tell me?”

  “If Delaven is here, it’s because she means for him to be here. And, blast her to the deeps, she probably knows I would be in the thick of it.” Maiten laughed, shaking his head, his expression softening to one of admiration. “That woman never ceases to amaze me.”

  “You like her.”

  Maiten snorted. “Of course I like her, just as I like all of her sons and daughters.”

  Like wasn’t a strong enough word for the strength of pride in his friend’s voice, but Breton pretended he didn’t hear it. “You know them? I hadn’t thought you’d met Delaven before.”

  Fidgeting in the saddle, Maiten twisted his reins in his hands before sighing and shaking his head. “I haven’t met him or his siblings, not directly. Their dam thought it wise. Kept telling me if they met me, they’d come running to the Rift and leave her before they were true men and women.” When his friend smiled, it surprised Breton. “I don’t mind. It makes sense. I’m never sure if I’ll make it back to her, and she knows it. She complains bitterly that they’ve all inherited my urge to roam.”

  “They’re your foals,” Breton whispered. “All of them, aren’t they?”

  “Look at me, Breton. The moment I decided I would accept the mantle of Guardian, I believed I lost the right to have any foal call me Father.” Maiten leaned forward, patting his gelding’s arched neck. “You amazed me when you brought a child into the Rift, you know. Of all of us, I never thought you would be the one who would try to break our tradition. But you were right. Being a Guardian doesn’t mean I can’t raise foals of my own. When they are old enough to leave their dam’s care, it’ll be my turn with them. But I’m not going to take her foals away from her when they might not be able to return to her. That was something we decided together.”

  “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

  “Of course I have. I’d court mate with her if I could,” his friend admitted in a soft, sad voice.

  “Why can’t you?”

  Maiten snorted. “Can you imagine His Majesty’s reaction if
I asked for a pair of serpents? He’d either demand I bring her to the Rift or exile me to Mithrias to be a proper mate. I’m a Guardian above all—his Guardian. And she, above all, is his Akakashani. We have our duties.”

  “But would she accept a serpent?” When his friend blushed, Breton laughed, reached over, and slapped the other Guardian’s shoulder. “The Rift will be bereft of your skills, friend.”

  “They already are,” Maiten replied with a smug smile. “I am very careful to ensure I’m too busy to accept the affections of our mares. I will not repay her loyalty by straying from her nest.”

  “Nest?”

  “What else do you call the home of a woman who keeps six kingmakers as pets?”

  Breton’s mouth dropped open, but he couldn’t find a single word to say. No one kept kingmakers as pets within the Rift. A single bite from an adult ensured death, with one exception: the Rift King.

  “Madness,” he stammered.

  “Which one? Her, or him for giving them to her? With them defending her nest, I’ve no worries for her.”

  “They’re kingmakers, Maiten!”

  “So they are. Lethal and beautiful, just like her, really.”

  Breton rubbed at his brow, unable to believe what he was hearing. Of all of the things he had expected from the conversation, his friend besotted with a Mithrian Akakashani and her serpents hadn’t been among them. “So what do we do about Delaven?”

  “I should tan his hide for leaving his dam. If he’s anything like her, and I daresay his sire, he’ll do anything in his power to get what he wants, so we may as well surrender now and cooperate.” Maiten reached down, patting Gorishitorik. “You’re here and so is the sword. There’s no reason we can’t make him into a Guardian. Best of all, should we, he’ll bring His Majesty right back to us in a hurry.”

  Breton pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you trying to convince my foal to kill us both?”

  “Don’t lie, you’re worried about him. This will simply encourage him to come back a little faster.”

  “I’d rather he have at least some caution returning to us!”

  “Him? Caution? Breton, old friend, think about who we are speaking about here. You’re asking the impossible. At least this solves several problems. First, he won’t wander any which way he wants if he’s trying to figure out what’s happening to him. You know how strong the pull is when a Guardian is made. We’ll have no problems convincing Delaven to stay with us. He’ll make a fine Guardian, too. Second, His Majesty needs someone loyal to him first and above all. We’re loyal, but I was made under Arik’s shadow, and you were made under Nerisan’s.”

  Breton stiffened, scowling at Maiten. “He has had no need for other Guardians.”

  “I know, I know. He uses us masterfully, protecting us far better than he protects himself. But that will change. It must change.” With narrowed eyes, Maiten turned Horasian and glowered in the swarm’s direction. “He means to Ride, my friend. I’m certain of it. And when he does, we must protect him from those who don’t honor the Code, guarding him as we should have all along.”

  “I don’t need you to tell me that.”

  “Then we’re agreed? His Majesty will come. We have you, his sword, and his new Guardian.”

  “You are a little too eager for this, Maiten. Isn’t your Mithrian mare going to murder you should His Majesty fail to?”

  “She’ll forgive me.”

  “How are you so sure of that?”

  Maiten leaned towards him and whispered, “It’s in her best interests. Think about it, she became an Akakashani to pay back a debt to His Majesty. Who better to protect him than her own colt? She’ll be more than pleased. I’ve been trying to decide if I should tell you or not, but I guess there’s no harm in sharing this with you, seeing how much I’ve told you already. She’s His Majesty’s most valuable Akakashani.”

  “Any Mithrian Akakashani is surely valuable,” he replied doubtfully, pausing a moment to consider Maiten’s enthusiasm. “What makes her special?”

  With a smile that widened to a full-fledged grin, Maiten replied, “She made herself into a Shadow Captain.”

  ~~*~~

  Breton wanted nothing more than to find a quiet place to lie down and sleep, if only to delay having to approach Captain Silvereye about Maiten’s foal. While he was convinced making Delaven into a Guardian was wise, he couldn’t bring himself to make the offer to the boy without speaking to the Crimson Eye’s captain first.

  Once he took up Gorishitorik and committed himself to performing the ritual, there was no turning back or reversing it. He hoped he wouldn’t regret his decision to go along with Maiten’s plan. While Breton wanted Kalen to have Guardians loyal to him first and above all, what price would they pay for choosing an Akakashani’s foal?

  Glaring at Maiten wasn’t going to solve any of his problems, either. With a heavy sigh, he nudged Perin into a canter, riding alongside the company in search of Captain Silvereye. He found the Mithrian sitting on his horse at the top of a knoll, looking out over the landscape.

  “Captain, could I have a moment?” he asked, reining Perin in at a respectful distance. When the Mithrian waved a hand in an accepting gesture, Breton nudged his horse closer. “There is something I would like to ask of you.”

  “I’ve heard confirmation that your king has, once again, vanished from our keeping. Does what you wish to ask of me relate to that, perhaps?”

  “It does, Captain.”

  “You don’t seem alarmed, Guardian. Why is this?”

  “His Majesty is in no danger. Our witch has gone to retrieve him for us. All things considered, I felt it wise that most of us Guardians remain with the company.” Breton straightened, careful to meet the captain’s steady gaze without flinching away. “That said, I would like to propose something to ensure they are able to find us.”

  Captain Silvereye narrowed his eyes. “Would you please explain why he is not with us?”

  “Unfortunately, luck and circumstances outside of our control, Captain. His Majesty has been recovering well and bristling under the necessary restrictions. In order to preserve his temper, Guardian Maiten took him for a walk to see the horses. There was no way of knowing the swarm would come. In the chaos, he was separated from us.” When the Mithrian’s posture relaxed, Breton averted his eyes and tangled his fingers in Perin’s mane.

  The explosion he expected didn’t come. Instead, Silvereye stood in the stirrups and shouted, “Company, halt! We camp here for the night.”

  The change in the mercenaries was immediate. The careful lines of riders and wagons split, spreading out to circle the knoll. Breton watched as horses were cared for and unsaddled and tents popped up in neat rows. There didn’t appear to be any coordination between the men and women, but it didn’t take long for the line transformed into a duplicate of the camp they had left behind earlier in the day.

  “Let me guess, he ended up on the wrong side of the destruction?” Silvereye sighed. “There truly should be limits on the poor luck one person suffers through.”

  “So it seems. I would like to make a proposal.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Breton swallowed, braced himself, and said, “I would like to subjugate one of your mercenaries and turn him into a Guardian.”

  Captain Silvereye’s only reaction was the slight widening of his eyes. For several more minutes, they watched the mercenaries, and it took every bit of Breton’s patience and will not to fidget while he waited for the Mithrian to respond. The captain reminded him of when Kalen faced a particularly difficult problem with no easy solution. So Breton sat still and quiet while waiting.

  “I can almost understand why so many want you Rifters to stay in your canyons. Wherever you go, you bring change and chaos. You challenge things by doing exactly what you want and nothing else. I should’ve known the Rift King’s men would be similar to the one they serve. I can’t have you drawn and quartered, however tempting that might be. It’s usually considered
a crime to try to hire away men from a loyalty company such as mine, Guardian. But you Rifters have taught me a few things in the past few weeks. You always do something for a reason. Explain yourself, Guardian. Which one of my men do you want and why?”

  “The boy named Delavan is the one we want. He’s Rifter-born.”

  “We of Mithrias do not care about the circumstances of a man’s birth.”

  Breton lifted his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I’m aware, Captain. Considering the nature of a Guardian’s duties, however, someone with a Rift bloodline is ideal.”

  Captain Silvereye’s expression hardened. “And you have reason to think one of my men would be loyal to the Rift King?”

  Matching the Mithrian’s cold tone, Breton replied, “I think he could serve as a very valuable liaison between you and us. Loyal to the Rift King, yes, but with bias towards your company. It’s a risk on both of our parts. Should you decide to turn against the Rift, however, I think one man’s loyalty will be the least of your concerns.”

  “No, I expect His Majesty is reason enough for me to worry. I’m well aware of the ramifications if the Rift made drastic shift in its political stance. There are many kingdoms outside of the Six who would immediately fall under the Rift’s guidance. The Rift King has forged many alliances, should he wish to use them.”

  Breton winced but couldn’t dispute the Mithrian’s claim. The Rift King was many things, but he took care with the missives he wrote, with his Akakashani, and with forming relationships with those in power. Danar and Kelsh were the real exceptions. Some disliked his direct approach, his willingness to take risks and make educated guesses, and his disregard for certain protocols, but many did respect the Rift King’s intellect.

  “Delaven, is it? Isn’t he a bit young?”

  “Not much younger than when His Majesty became the Rift King.” Breton shrugged, shook his head, and stared over the camp. While the line of mercenaries continued to stretch through the light woods, the camp grew more established as the men and women joined forces to set up tents, clear space, and picket the horses. Some gathered wood from the forest for fires, others took to their horses, armed with bows to go on the hunt, while others secured the tents. Patrols scouted around the fringes of the camp, both on foot and on horseback.