Storm Without End (Requiem for the Rift King Book 1) (39 page)

The Mithrian sat down beside him and nodded his head toward the city gates and the army beyond.

Breton shrugged. “Ask me when Maiten is back.”

“I had hoped to get out of here without a fight, but I don’t think that’s happening.”

Maiten stepped through the door, shaking his head. “That’s an understatement. From what I could see, the entire city is surrounded. At least a thousand, if not more. You’ll like this, Captain. The ones in charge seem to be the only ones that have swords at all. A couple of good archers…”

“They’re trying to save their wives and children,” Kalen rasped out. “Nothing more.”

Breton sat up with a jerk, and the bench collapsed beneath him. He hit the ground with a thud and choked on the dust that swirled up around him. Captain Silvereye sprawled next to him, muttering several curses.

“I thought you said he was deaf, Maiten!”

“I thought he was!”

“Deaf?” Lord Delrose boomed out, surging to his feet.

~All of you be quiet!~
Satrin’s shout left Breton with a headache and a ringing in his ears.
~He can’t talk over you. Shut your mouths and keep them shut.~
The Yadesh broke through a piece of rotten wood with a hoof, pounding it to dust and splinters. The elegant ears were pinned back, and the stallion bared his teeth.
~May the Lady of Light bear witness, I’ll bite you and break your feet.~

Not even the rain and thunder dared to break the silence.

~Ask your questions. One at a time. Starting with you, Breton.~

“How are you feeling?”

Kalen flicked his hand up in a rude gesture, and Breton was torn between grinning and scowling. Maiten snorted a laugh.

“My turn,” Maiten said. “Do you know who is behind this?”

“Danarites. Mercenaries marked with crossed swords. Priests,” the Rift King replied in a hoarse whisper. “Five red, twenty pink, six indigo, eighteen yellow, four hundred, two hundred horse, one score black hands.”

“What does that mean?” Lord Delrose asked.

Captain Silvereye let out a low whistle. “I’d rather take on a thousand farmers armed with nothing more than a rusty spoon. That’s not a force I want to face in battle.”

A troubled expression flashed across the captain’s face before the Mithrian masked it. Breton frowned.

“How did you find out this information?” Captain Silvereye asked.

“Tsordin.”

“Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Breton asked.

“Tsordin is the name of one of their Lord Priests. Quiet fellow, as far as the Danarite leaders go. I don’t know much about the man, but then again, no one knows much about any of them. Why would he tell you anything? Especially numbers like that?” Captain Silvereye stepped to the door and stared toward the gate. “It won’t be long until they come to take the city.”

Kalen lifted his hand, palm up, in a dismissive gesture and didn’t reply.

“What do we do about Varest and Ceres? We can’t leave them, and we can’t run with them like this,” Maiten said.

~I’m not telling him this,~
Satrin said.

“So he
is
deaf,” Maiten said.

“Why is my son deaf?” Lord Delrose growled.

“Why was he in the hands of Danarites
again
to begin with? I heard all about it from Ceres and Varest how you purposefully separated them,” Maiten snapped.

Breton drew a deep breath. “
Enough!
” Everyone stared at him, and Maiten’s mouth dropped open. “Tell him, Satrin. He should be the one to decide.”

“What happened to Ceres and Varest?” Kalen sat up and shrugged off the cloaks that covered him.

“Crysallis did something to them. We don’t know what,” he replied.

“And where is she?”

“I am here, Your Majesty,” the witch’s voice came from the door. Breton turned and narrowed his eyes. Crysallis stepped forward, and a frown creased her lips. “I will awaken them for you.”

“Your
Majesty
?” Captain Silvereye asked. “Are you serious?”

The Rift King was at Breton’s side before he could do more than draw a breath to answer the captain. Gorishitorik was yanked free and the tip of the weapon pressed against the witch’s throat.
 

“What did you do to them and why?” Kalen snarled.

“It was necessary to prevent their deaths,” the woman replied.

“Don’t lie to me, witch.”

Crysallis smiled. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Breton ignored the Mithrian’s question.

Kalen’s laugh was bitter and hoarse. “You would, Crysallis. Only a fool would believe otherwise. Wake them. And, should you harm either one of them, I’ll do more than separate your head from your shoulders. I won’t leave enough left of you for even nibblers. Understood?”

Maiten let out a low whistle. Crysallis turned so white Breton thought she would faint. Instead, she swallowed, stood straight, and slowly bowed her head in submission. “I understand. Once they are ready, I will show you a way out of the city.”

A horn blared, and its single, deep note sent shivers racing up and down Breton’s spine. “Hurry up, Crysallis.”

The witch looked over at him. “I will take care of them and open the way for us.”

“Try not to kill them,” Maiten said, “if His Majesty’s right, they’re just trying to save their families.”

“Trust me,” Crysallis replied.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Breton muttered. He picked Kalen up and ignored his foal’s hoarse protests. “Get them conscious enough to ride, and let’s get out of here.”

~~*~~

Breton felt his eyebrows arch, and he glanced over at Crysallis. The witch stared up at the clouds and clucked her tongue. The rain-soaked metal and wood of the gate gleamed with each flash of lightning.

“I think I’ll need your help with this one, Maiten,” the woman admitted in a low voice.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Maiten replied.

“Good. You weren’t supposed to.”

~Perhaps I can be of assistance,~
Satrin said.
~If a channel is what you need, I can provide. Kalen can as well, but I fear his strength won’t last long.~

“The last thing we need is him going on another rampage,” Breton snarled.

The Yadesh bobbed his head, but the sense from the creature was more of a shrug than agreement.
~I didn’t say it was a good choice, just that it was one.~

“What rampage?” Captain Silvereye asked.

“Do I really have to explain this?” Breton turned his glare to the Mithrian. “If we didn’t kill those mercenaries, who do you think did?”

“Stop arguing,” Kalen ordered in a rasp. “What’s your plan, witch?”

“A Scouring, Your Majesty. I’ll call one and make a path for us. If they’re wise, they’ll get out of the way before their flesh is torn from their bones.”

“Put me down, Breton.”

With a sigh, Breton obeyed. The Rift King straightened and turned in the direction of the gates. “Open the gates. Maiten, help her. Satrin, should they need my aid, let me know.” Satrin’s ears went back and the stallion snorted.

Maiten held out his hand to Crysallis. “I’m ready.”

“You’re not going to tell him if they need his help, are you?” Breton asked Satrin.

The Yadesh refused to meet his eyes. Breton shrugged and returned to watching the witch and Guardian. “If he finds out, he’ll skin you for a rug.”

~He would die,~
Satrin said, and he got the sense that the words were meant only for him.
~He would try, he’d succeed, and he’d die.~

Breton met the Yadesh’s golden eyes, then glanced down at the Rift King at his side. He let out a low sigh. The black marking Kalen’s scalp leeched away at the vibrant gold, until only a few pale streaks remained. All he could do was nod. “Some things never change.”

“When I open the way, hurry through it. After the winds, I will call for the rain to slow them. I hope you know where we go, as it won’t last long.”

“We’ll go to my company,” Captain Silvereye said. “An hour on foot if we hurry.”

“Give it three in this weather,” Lord Delrose replied.

Crysallis frowned and didn’t look away from the sky. “Which direction?”

“North by west.”

“I will draw the storm from that direction, then. Get ready to open the gates.”

Before Breton could take a step forward, Lord Delrose and Captain Silvereye wrestled the heavy bar from the gate and tossed it down into the mud. The two glanced at each other and nodded. Crysallis began to mutter. Four spheres of light circled her head and two more winked into existence over where she touched Maiten. The thunder crashed. The wind hissed and then howled its fury.

Crysallis’s mouth moved, but he couldn’t hear what she said. Ceres and Varest slid from Satrin’s back. They both swayed but when they remained upright, he didn’t move from Kalen’s side.

~Move!~
Satrin said.

The Kelshite and Mithrian dove out of the Yadesh’s way. The animal hit the gate with his shoulder and mud flew as he sought purchase with his hooves. Backing away, Satrin charged it again. The structure shuddered and burst open. A wall of churning darkness stretched down from the sky and the ground trembled when it landed. The wind whipped at Breton and sucked the breath from his lungs. A serpentine cloud coiled in the air and struck down with a clap of thunder that rattled his teeth together.

Walls of wind surrounded him and formed a channel as wide as one of the trails in the Rift. Crysallis dropped her hands to her side and gasped for air. She gestured to the path and started to run.

~She says to hurry.~

Breton hesitated long enough to help Ceres and Varest back onto Satrin’s back. Kalen cocked his head to the side and followed after the Yadesh. Breton frowned. The Rift King’s footing was firm and confident. Satrin glanced back at him.

~I think the witch used some sort of power to help him see. It’s not true sight, not that I can tell. It’s like he senses where things are but can’t see them. He just knows they’re there.~

Catching up to the trotting Yadesh in a short burst of speed, he bobbed his head in acknowledgment of the Satrin’s words. Kalen skid to a halt and Breton crashed into him. Letting out a curse, he twisted around so he wouldn’t land on top of the Rift King, hitting the mud with a splash. “Kalen?!”

Drawing a deep breath, the Rift King put his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle that cut over the wind. It was answered by a shrill call. Breton’s breath caught in his throat. With their coats rain-slicked and matching the churning winds, the shapes of horses coalesced from the darkness surrounding them. With curses, Maiten, Crysallis, Lord Delrose, and Captain Silvereye dove out of the path of the animals. His Perin dodged past Kalen and skidded to a halt in front of him. The warm nose rammed against his chest and drove him to his feet. Gorask halted and pawed at the mud. Neither horse wore any tack. Getting to his feet, he wrapped his arms around the necks of each in turn and slapped their shoulders.

Ferethian and Honey danced in front of their Rider, bobbing their heads and whinnying.

~Lord Delrose, ride me,~
Satrin said. Kalen tapped Ferethian’s shoulder and the stallion immediately knelt in the mud. The Rift King mounted.

“Captain, ride Gorask, if he’ll let you,” Breton said. He turned to his gelding and muttered a few words to the horse. The Mithrian sloshed through the mud and held his hand out to his horse. Gorask let out a snort with both ears turned back but didn’t move or bite.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Silvereye said before swinging up on Gorask’s broad back. Breton mounted.

“Honey,” Kalen said. The golden chestnut put her ears back and snorted, then let out a long-suffering sigh. The mare stepped to Crysallis and presented her back.

As soon as Ceres and Varest were on their horses, Breton nudged Perin’s sides with his feet. Crysallis led them through the storm until they reached the trees. She made a sharp gesture. The air stilled, and the black walls of wind dissolved into mist that the torrential rains drove down to the ground.

“This way,” Captain Silvereye said. Gorask plunged through the forest and left them to chase after, leaving the army of peasants and the city doomed to fall far behind them.

~~*~~

Kalen’s ears burned and sound exploded through his head, jerking him from the peace of sleep to full awareness. He struggled upright, but a hand pressed against his chest and pinned him down. Someone’s cursing drowned out all other noise. When he inhaled, the voice fell silent. His eardrums throbbed with each beat of his heart and pain stabbed down his neck.

“Kalen?”

He recognized Breton’s voice, and the air whooshed out of his lungs. “Breton.” Relief eased the pain—at least temporarily. Although he’d heard Satrin, and had known the Guardian was near, he hadn’t quite believed it. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, in case he’d been dreaming.

“Bless the ancestors,” the Guardian said with a sigh. “Thank you, Healer Parice.”

“Of course. Now that you can hear me, young Kalen, I can’t do anything for your eyesight for a few days. Your body requires rest, and while it won’t take much of your strength, it’ll be quite a bit more painful than healing your ears. As it is, you’re fighting off several infections,” a man said. “Captain, if I might return to my other duties?”

“Of course,” another man replied, his deeper voice tinged with amusement. “Thank you. I’ll speak with you later.”

A tent’s flap rustled and the thud of departing feet broke the silence. Kalen lifted his hand to rub at his aching ear, but his wrist caught in a strong grip.

“Leave it,” Breton ordered.

“Your Majesty. It is a pleasure to meet you properly. Call me Silvereye. I’m the captain of a skirmishing company from Mithrias.”

“The Crimson Eye,” Kalen replied. “A specialist group dealing with infiltration and cavalry. Hit and run experts. Sabotage, too. Loyalists. Your symbol isn’t the double swords, though. I think.”

“I’m impressed. You’re correct on all counts. I heard you were well-informed, but I hadn’t thought you’d know of my little company. The twin swords are the symbol of the Wolf Blades. They’re a money company. Until two weeks ago, the Crimson Eye had been wearing their sign as a part of an infiltration. We split off after a set of skirmishers and pulled back.”