Storm Without End (Requiem for the Rift King Book 1) (40 page)
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Authors: RJ Blain
“Someone paid quite a bit of coin for your services, especially if you had to infiltrate another company. The Wolf Blades. A new company? Hired swords thrown together?” Kalen turned his head toward the sound of the Captain’s voice, keeping his eyes closed despite the urge to open them so he could glare.
“Yes, the Wolf Blades hire on whenever they can. While they’re good, they keep to their little groups so half the company doesn’t know each other. Ideal for my line of work. Now that I’ve shared some information with you, why don’t you tell me what, exactly, the Rift King is doing in Kelsh?”
“Be careful, Captain. Annoy him too much and you might find out why his mark is a serpent,” Ceres said from somewhere nearby. “Father, Crysallis asked me to tell you that she will return by tomorrow. She states there is something that requires her immediate attention.”
“Very well, Ceres. Set a guard for when she returns and send her to me. Silvereye, with a mercenary company out of Mithrias in Kelsh, why do you
think
I am here? I don’t believe for a moment you’re so foolish or dense to not know the answer to your own question. My turn. What happened to the women and girls taken?”
A hand squeezed his shoulder, and Kalen pulled away with a wordless growl.
“I can’t tell you for certain, but I can tell you what I suspect. They’re likely being sent to Danar for sale as slaves. You didn’t ask what happened to the boys and men.”
Kalen wrinkled his nose and rubbed at his ear with his right shoulder. It didn’t ease the throb, and he let out a breath in a low huff. “That’s because I already know what happened to them.”
“Lord Delrose and his brood are all accounted for,” Breton said. “You can thank or curse Captain Silvereye for that.”
“Perhaps a bit of both, but I’ll settle with thanks for now. Were you the ones who took them, then?”
“Yes. The Wolf Blades were about to sweep in that direction, and I thought it wise to prevent them from gaining hold of an influential family,” Silvereye replied.
“That doesn’t explain how you knew they were there.” Kalen lifted his hand to rub at his brow. A cough tore through him, and the throb in his ears exploded into fire that raced from his skull and down his spine. A blanket was draped over his shoulders. “So, your hire must be affiliated with Kelsh in some way if you’re out to thwart the Wolf Blades.”
“I’m not able to tell you that, Your Majesty.”
One corner of Kalen’s mouth twitched up in a grin. “I’d expect nothing less from a loyalist. I’ll let it go, for now. But, remember this, Captain. Don’t forget who I am. If I feel your hire is important to the survival of the Six and the continued survival of the Covenant, I’ll peel it out of you one way or another. Mithrias playing both sides of the hostilities between Kelsh and Danar is reason enough for me to get involved.”
“I see your reputation is not without justification,” Silvereye said. The man let out a short laugh. “I will tell you this much. My hire is as interested in preventing war between Kelsh and Danar as you are. Should it be needed for your duty, I will speak with my hire and make an arrangement for you to get the information you need to know.”
“Very well. Breton?”
“What is it?”
“What are you doing here?”
Someone choked on a laugh, and Kalen jerked his head around to face the direction the sound came from. It quieted to a smothered giggle.
“I am doing my duty,” Breton replied in a soft voice.
“Isn’t your duty to be sitting in my study?” Kalen rubbed at his brow again. “Who’s dealing with my desk?”
“Arik’s Queens decided to serve as your Princesses.”
Kalen choked on a cough, and he gasped for air. “What?” The question came out as a wheeze.
“Well we couldn’t send them out to search for you. Riran organized it. I expect by the time we make it back to the Rift your desk will be cleared off for once.”
Kalen tapped a finger against his temple. It wasn’t what he would’ve done, but he couldn’t find fault with the plan. Arik’s choice in Queens hadn’t been faulted. Smart, wise, and competent, they’d done everything Arik wouldn’t.
“I will have to bring things back for them in thanks, then,” he muttered.
“I’m astonished,” Varest said.
“Quiet,” Kalen snarled. A laugh answered him. “I’ve heard Breton, Varest, and Ceres. Where’s Maiten?”
“Settling the horses. He’s fine. Of all of us, I think Crysallis is in the worst shape. Honey bucked her off as soon as we pulled you off Ferethian’s back,” Breton said.
“She kicked the witch too,” Ceres added,
“Honey did? I don’t believe it.” Kalen twisted around to face Breton. “Ferethian I’d believe. But
Honey
?”
“Caught her in the arm. I’m not sure what happened, but the horses were angry with her. That Yadesh didn’t look very pleased either,” Varest said.
Thunder rumbled, and Kalen cocked his head to the side to listen to it. “It’s still storming?”
“Doesn’t look like it’s going to be easing up anytime soon,” Captain Silvereye said. “Rest while you can, Rift King. If we need to march, it’ll be without warning. It’s only a matter of time before the Wolf Blades or the Danarites find us, and all of us will need to be ready when they come.”
“Don’t forget the people from that town,” Breton said.
“Them too,” Silvereye acknowledged.
“We’ll be ready. Breton, locate Lord Delrose and find out the details of what his mage friend did. I want to know what needs to be done with my hand, and if there are any unwanted surprises in store for me. Beat it out of him if necessary. If you’ve the spare supplies, Captain Silvereye, I’d like to have our horses fitted with saddles and barding. Varest, I want you working the horses and get them ready. The spares, too. Ceres, if I have to be stuck in this thrice-cursed kingdom, at least let me have some tea. Once you’ve done that, work with Captain Silvereye and share strategies.”
Silence answered his words. He frowned when he didn’t hear any movement. “What are you waiting for? We’ve work to do.”
Acknowledgments
Thank you for reading!
It takes a lot of help to finish a novel, and Storm Surge was no different.
To my friends, family, and editors,
Thank you so much for sticking with me through thick and thin. Without you, this book never would have happened. You’ve seen this book before it was polished, finding those insane, embarrassing, and sometimes hilarious mistakes scattered throughout the novel. Thank you for putting up with me. I appreciate it.
To my readers and fans,
Thank you for all of your support. You’re what really makes the hard work, effort, and time spent on this novel worthwhile. Your support of my novels helps ensure I can work on the next title, something I will always be grateful for.
A Message from RJ
I was recently asked about my views on piracy when they discovered many of my novels had been pirated and made available on torrent sites without my consent.
Piracy is a concern for all authors. We value our words, our stories, and our livelihoods. I’m an author. Writing is my career. The financial support of fans and readers is how I make my living, no different than those who go to a 9-5 office job. Piracy means I don’t get paid for my hard work.
That said, in the digital era we currently live in, torrent sites have become the new library system in many ways. Someone buys a copy of the book and populates it on the torrent sites, no differently than a librarian who buys a copy and puts it on the shelf of their library. Unlike traditional libraries, one file can be propagated to many users, all at the same time.
I support literacy, and I have no problems with libraries. If you did acquire a copy of this book (or one of my other titles) through a torrent site, I really hope you enjoyed the novel. Please consider buying a copy for yourself or a friend. Your financial support helps ensure I am able to keep writing.
Thank you.
~RJ Blain
Titles by RJ Blain
Witch & Wolf (Urban Fantasy)
Other titles from the Witch & Wolf World (UF)
Tales of the Winter Wolf
Beneath a Blood Moon (Nov 2015)
Requiem for the Rift King (Epic Fantasy)
The Fall of Erelith (Fantasy)
Requiem for the Rift King, Book 2
Kalen has escaped from Morinvale, but at a heavy price. Blind and crippled, the best hope for his people is for him to choose a new Rift King, forfeiting his life in the process. With his failure to broker peace between Kelsh and Danar, war is inevitable. For the first time in a thousand years, the Rift prepares to ride into battle.
Choosing his successor is only the beginning of Kalen’s troubles: his Guardians have turned against the Code and Covenant. Instead of securing the Ascension of a new Rift King, they’re doing everything in their power to ensure Kalen’s survival, even if it means the destruction of the Six Kingdoms.
To make matters worse, the skreed conjured in Morinvale aren’t just growing stronger. They’re breeding, and they aren’t picky about what—or who—they’ll eat.
Chapter One
Kalen fumbled with his cloak pin, hissing when he jabbed its tip into his shoulder. The pain from the wound—and the four others like it—spread up his neck, throbbing with his heartbeat. Muttering curses, he pulled it out. Holding the brooch between his teeth, he adjusted his cloak over his shoulders once again.
Without his sight, it took him far too long to secure the heavy wool into place. At least when he finished—if he finished—no one would notice how many times he had punctured himself.
Kalen seized the pin and tried again, muttering curses at his traitorous sight.
In the two weeks following his escape from Morinvale, his eyes hadn’t healed at all, refusing to acknowledge the world around him. His anger roused, but he shoved it back, drawing deep breaths until he could control himself. If the healers couldn’t cure his blindness, leaving it to a matter of time and luck, he couldn’t do anything about it either. Blaming them wouldn’t change anything, so he didn’t. He endured, silent more often than not—except when Breton was around.
Kalen tightened his grip on the sigil of the winged serpent, grumbling his frustration. He didn’t need Breton reminding him that he was as good as dead as a blind cripple. He knew it, and so did everyone else. Focusing his attention on his task, he tried to drive the thoughts of his Guardian away.
It was only a matter of time before those seeking his rank would come and take it, and his life as a result. The impenetrable darkness was an incessant reminder of that fact.
If he still had his vision, he would’ve been able to manage the once-simple task of securing his cloak. Kalen stabbed at the wool again, the pin scraping across his finger. He jammed his thumb against the tip until it caught in the clasp. Holding his breath, he gave the brooch and cloak a tug.
It held. With a triumphant huff, he leaned over and patted at the canvas-covered ground until he found one of his boots. Snagging a lace, he pulled it out from under the cot. He ran his fingers along the sole of the boot and furrowed his brow trying to identify which foot it belonged to.
“Your right,” Maiten said.
Kalen sucked in a breath and jerked his head up. Somewhere beyond his tent, he heard the murmurs of people in the camp, sounds he had ignored as unimportant in their normality. He hadn’t heard the eerily quiet Guardian enter.
“Maiten,” he replied when he managed to swallow the lump in his throat.
“Breton’s going to tan your hide if he finds out what you’re up to,” his Guardian said. A foot scuffed against the canvas floor of the tent.
“I know.” Kalen shrugged before shoving his foot into his boot. Frustration simmered in his chest, tightened in his throat, and threatened to explode out of him. Swallowing again, he drew a long and deep breath. “He can rot in the deeps for all I care.”
It was a lie. He would care, but couldn’t bring himself to admit that fact. Ducking his head down, he snagged the tongue of the boot and jerked it up with enough force that the leather stretched. In the back of his head, the cold of the First’s presence intensified. There was a murmur in his thoughts from the creature, but it reminded him of the mumbling of someone still caught in the throes of sleep.
“He’ll thrash the life out of me if he finds out I helped you, so we’ll just keep this our little secret. Hand off, foal. I’ve got your other boot, and I don’t feel like waiting for you to tie them on your own.”
Kalen snorted but dropped his hand from his boot and straightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Maiten laughed.
It was difficult, but Kalen forced himself to sit still. He shoved his left foot into his boot when his Guardian tapped on his ankle.
After a long moment of silence, Maiten said, “I think I’ll go on a walk through the forest. Check on the horses, you know. It’s a nice, warm night. Might be a pleasant change from wandering around the camp bored out of my wits.”
Relief kept Kalen quiet. With a few tugs, Maiten tightened the laces of his boots. After several moments of silence, Kalen felt fingers brush against his shoulder and neck where he’d poked himself with his sigil.
“Why am I not surprised?” Maiten tugged on Kalen’s cloak, and Kalen quivered with the desire to bat the man’s hand away. “There. That should hold now. I thought you’d like to know the others are all asleep.”
“Good,” he muttered.
“Temper, temper. Come on, who do you think I am? I’m no fool to think it’s safe or wise to keep you penned up. Fresh air’ll do you more good than fussing will. I remember what happened last time they tried this. They’re lucky my patience frayed before Ferethian’s. Yours already has.”
The weight of guilt settled over Kalen’s shoulders. “You heard about it?”
