Island Shifters: Book 03 - An Oath of the Children (34 page)

She leaned back from her study of the Massan maps and smiled. “Say what is on your mind, Emile.”

“You will not abuse the Massan prisoners, and you will not give orders to the Battlearms. If you try to do either again, I will send you back to Ellvin to explain to the Premier why you have hampered my efforts here.”

“Hampered your efforts?
The Premier sent you here to conquer
Northfort, Emile! You seem to be failing miserably in that regard.”

Emile looked back over his shoulder at the Massan bartender, who made no secret of the
fact that he
was listening to
every single word.

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed at Samara. “The only reason we are having this conversation at all is because you had already
given up every advantage we possessed before I arrived! I expected to find a cowered people, Samara, not a battlefield. Your orders were simple. Gain the trust of the Massans. Discretely send shifters back to Ellvin.” He threw his hands up. “Even Anah’s Coinholders could have accomplished that
task.”

Samara’s faced hardened into a beautiful mask. “What about the Vypir, Emile? Who let that thing loose onto foreign land?”

Emile leaned back and exhaled. “I don’t know how that happened. Tolah must have boarded the ship somehow without
anyone knowing.”

She tilted her head. “It would seem that we have both made mistakes then.”

He knew the Premier would be furious when he
discovered the
Vypir missing. “True enough.”

The door to the inn opened and a young Battlearm rushed in. “Second!”

Emile turned. “Aye, what is it?”

“The Massans have just
sent word! They
are surrendering!”

A
mug clanked to the floor
from the bar
behind them.

“Surrendering?” Samara questioned incredulously and scraped back her chair to stand.

“Aye, they have indicated that they will surrender at dawn.”

“Well, then,
Emile,” Samara said with a smile. “It
may be that our
mistakes
are not
insurmountable after all.”

C
HAPTER
27

A
B
EACON OF
H
OPE

Her steady heartbeat against his chest represented
his
lifeline back to the world of the living. Beck concentrated only on that
stirring
sound as he worked to heal
his
injuries. He wished that he could reassure
Kiernan
that he was still
alive,
but could not do so. If he spared
the amount of energy required to fill his lungs with enough air
to speak,
he would die
in truth. He had to reduce his lung capacity to almost nothing as he zeroed his magic in on
his bleeding
heart.

The arrow penetrated the right ventricle.
In anyone else, it would have been an unrecoverable
fatal injury.
In him, it was still up for debate.
As soon as his mind registered what had happened, he
forced his body to shut down just
as he had learned
to do
during Mage training.
In an agonizingly slow process, he went about
repairing
the damage
caused
by the arrow and
in one
infinitesimal
step at a time,
began to expel the shaft from his
heart.

He knew it would take unwavering
concentration
to knit
together the vital organ that kept him alive, so he had to tune out the frantic efforts of his wife to save him. He wished so much to be able to
comfort her
at this moment, but his desire to live for her was
far
stronger.

In spite of his best efforts
to focus,
he
did hear
Kiernan ask the Ellvinian fighter to take her life and his terror almost severed the flow of magic that kept him alive.

No!
Please, Kiernan, hang on. I am doing everything in my power to get back to you. Have faith, my love!

Beck
picked up the flow once again and
went back to work, but still had the awareness to be overjoyed when the Ellvinian refused Kiernan’s request.
He cried tears of pain when Kiernan began to recall some of the special memories they had shared
over the years
and had to halt his efforts
twice just to rein in
his emotions.

When she finally
fell asleep
pressed tight to his body,
a
profound
peace descended over him
and he knew that now he could find the
single-mindedness
and
endurance
necessary to finish healing his wound.

Throughout
the
long
night,
with
the beacon of her heartbeat serving as his guiding light, he
inched the arrow further and further out of his body.
With the arrival of dawn, he was at last able to allow more oxygen to fill his lungs, and
his
own
heart began to
pulsate more
regularly as he started to work on the lesser muscle damage.

As the early morning sun peaked over the horizon, the arrow emerged fully from his body and clattered
to the cave floor.

The small sound awakened
Kiernan, and she threw the cloak off them and
lifted her head in shock. “Dear, Highworld,” she breathed and picked up the arrow. “Beck?”

He tried to answer, but the effort of using his diaphragm to form words proved too much just yet, so he simply nodded.

She leaned over and placed her lips on his and he felt hot tears fall on his cheeks.
“Are you going to live? Please tell me you are going to live!”

He nodded again and she
hugged him gently. “Don’t you ever do that to me again, Beck Atlan!
Do you hear me?”

He tried to smile, but it hurt too much.
“I…I will…try.”

She must have realized he was not yet fully healed. “Are you
in pain? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No.
I
just…need more time. Where…are we?”

“In one of the sea caves. I managed to get you away after you were shot, but the Ellvinians captured the others.”

“All right.
Give me…a few hours, and
I will be as good as new.”

She cupped his face in her hands and leaned in close. “Are you sure you are going to be all right? Promise me, Beck, that you are not going to leave me
again.
Please…”
That last word was little more than a moan.

“You have…had that
promise, my love,
since the first day…I met you.”

* * * * *

At dawn,
Samara strode into the mayor’s estate surrounded by Emile and a contingent of Battlearms. She did not
fully
trust the Massans’ offer of surrender and
had to be
prepared to act should it turn out to be an ambush.

“Give me your sword,” she demanded of the Battlearm to her right. The fighter hesitated, but then removed his weapon from the scabbard on his hip and handed it to her hilt first.

As soon as her fingers encircled the
leather
grip, she felt more at ease, but she was not sure why. The
more she learned about the capabilities of these Massan shifters, the more she
realized
just
how useless
their weapons
were. Until they
could get inside the shifters’
magical
defenses,
all the swords in the world could not stop their destructive
powers.

That was
precisely
why this
sudden surrender was so suspect.

The doors to the ballroom stood open and she stepped inside cautiously. All of the Massans that had previously been locked in the cellar and the young royal shifters that had caused so much damage to her troops were sitting casually around the walls of the ballroom.

“Who will speak for you?” she asked the assembled Massans.

The
infuriating
young Prince with the golden eyes stood up from his position on the floor. “I
will.”

Samara narrowed her eyes. She thought it would
be
the other Prince
who took
the lead. He seemed the
more
political and outspoken
of the two.

“What is
this nonsense about a surrender?”

“It is not nonsense. We are surrendering to the Ellvinians.”

“Why would you do such a thing when you have access to the magic you possess?”

Kane shrugged. “Our magic is not limitless. We cannot stand against your numbers forever. We have decided to surrender now before more innocent people are harmed.”

“I see.”

“I would ask for one concession, however.”

Of course
.
“What would that be?”

“Let the citizens you are holding hostage go free.
They are not soldiers. They are not magic users.
As such, they hold no negotiating value
for
you.
Let them
go.”

She laughed.
“So, they can go and summon additional help for you? I don’t think so.”

“I am a Prince of Iserlohn, Lady Samara!
You hold royal members of Deepstone and Haventhal as well!
Help will come
whether you are prepared for it or not.
By your actions, I am assuming you mean to
occupy
Northfort
for some time. Having royal children in your possession will help your cause.”

“And, these
royal children
will go meekly along with all we say? I am finding that very hard to believe.”

“What other choice do we have in order to avoid war?” He pulled down the shirt at his neck. “See this tattoo? Its presence on my neck demands that I protect the people of Massa. Inviting war would be contrary to that purpose, and
I am confident the Kings will see it the same way.”

Samara considered the Prince’s words
for several long moments.
It made sense to go along, she finally decided.
What were the citizens to her anyway except more mouths to feed?
Still, if innocent Massans were what kept the shifters in line, she had to keep some of them around. She lifted a hand. “Free the prisoners.” Several fighters ran from the room to comply with her order.
“But, all these here in the estate will stay.”

“As you say, Lady Samara,” Kane said, bowing his head.
“Now, that I am your prisoner, maybe you will feel inclined to explain your hostile actions against my island.
We would have given you all the wormwood plants you required
if you simply asked.”

She
waggled a finger at him.
“Ah, but the road to war is never as simple
as
that, young Prince.
It is complex and winding and full of forks. Survival, greed,
censure, addiction. These are but
some of the factors that set
the Ellvinians
on this path, but I find now I can add another to the list.”

“What would that be?”

“Retribution.”
Samara
put a hand to her chin and began to circle the room. “You see I
have a special concession
of my own, Prince.”

She noticed that Prince Kane moved his body to keep her in his sight at all times.
She also remembered his skill at defeating the Battlearms in this very room and knew she could never let her guard down or underestimate this deadly young man.

“Yes?
What concession can I offer you, Lady Samara?”

Samara
stopped right in front of the little Elf
with the silver hair
and pointed
her
sword at
the girl’s
chest. “This Elf killed my friend, Chandal. I demand nothing less than her death
in return.”