Shard Knight (Echoes Across Time Book 1) (26 page)

“And the last,” Tyrell said.

Ronan snapped his head toward Devery. “I can’t accept it. It’s too important.”

Devery shook his head. “We need you well armed. Besides, there’s no guarantee it’ll work.”

“What do you mean?” Ronan said.

“I think this metal will hold more shard magic than ironbarrow steel alone, and it’ll improve the strength and flexibility of the sword. I’ll stretch the crater ore along the blade’s center. The sheba metal will spread shard magic through the steel faster and with greater intensity.”

“Ronan, there’s no telling if it’ll work, but it could give us the advantage we need,” Tyrell said.

Ronan nodded. “Thank you. I’ll do my best. What do I need to do?”

Devery lifted the molten chunk of steel from the furnace. He gripped his smith’s hammer and placed it on his anvil. “Be ready when I call you.” Sparks flew as he beat on the glowing chunk of steel flattening and shaping it. “I make broadswords for the strongest battle knights, and that’s what I’ll make for you.”

Devery’s hammer rang against the molten steel for a few minutes, quenched the blade in saltwater, and reheated the steel.

As Devery cycled the steel from hot to cold, a blade took shape. The sword-smith concentrated on his task, and his attention never wavered.

Devery pulled red-hot sheba ore from the furnace and placed it on the anvil atop the flat blade. He hammered the red metal molding it along the blade’s core. A shimmer of blue shard energy appeared around Devery’s body enveloping him in translucent light. The energy moved from his head and feet toward his shoulders and hammer arm. The energy twisted and ran along his arm before coalescing around his hand swinging the smith’s hammer. A bright ball of blinding light moved from his hand and floated to the face of his hammer. “Now Patron,” he said without breaking focus.

“Ronan, fill yourself with as much spirit magic as you can hold, and give me your hand,” Tyrell said.

Ronan pulled a massive amount of power from the vast reservoir of energy resting at his core, and his body sprang to life. He had a hard time believing knights from centuries ago held far more power. The magic flowed deep and vast within him, and his skin radiated a halo of yellow energy filling the room with a spectral aura.

Tyrell’s eyes widened as he watched the light emanate from every pore and crevice of Ronan’s body. He pulled his shard blade from its sheath and sent his own energy surging into the steel. The sword sparked to life as yellow energy ran along the blade’s edge.

Ronan held out the palm of his hand over the red-hot sheba alloy.

Tyrell’s hand never wavered as he eased the glowing shard blade over Ronan’s outstretched palm.

A thin line of blood formed under Tyrell’s blade as it moved along Ronan’s palm. Ronan turned his palm over and spread droplets of blood across the sheba alloy.

As droplets fell, the enhancement magic they contained settled on the alloy’s surface hissing and steaming from the intense heat.

Devery’s blue spirit magic spread across the face of his hammer as he continued to pound on the blade. The energy settled over the molten alloy and mingled with Ronan’s yellow enhancement energy.

Ronan continued moving his palm across the blade’s surface until directed to stop. The energy stored in his blood combined with Devery’s blue shield energy, and the sheba alloy produced an effect unlike any he’d seen. Red light glowed from the sheba alloy, but Devery remained steady and calm. Ronan assumed it a part of the blades normal construction process.

Devery spoke breaking the hypnotic pounding of his hammer. “The blade chooses the dominant attribute from the power present in your blood and fuses it lending added power during battle.” Ronan’s blood sizzled beneath the onslaught of the smith’s hammer sinking deep into the sheba alloy. “That’s enough Ronan. You may remove your hand.”

Tyrell handed Ronan a clean towel. “I’ve never seen a knight display that much power. How did you do that?”

Ronan wrapped his hand with the cloth. He worried that he’d disturbed the process. “Master Tyrell, I channeled my power as you directed.”

“I’ve seen battle knights with decades of experience unable to summon a fraction of your power. Channeling that much magic lies beyond my ability,” Tyrell said.

Devery’s pounding ceased, and energy flowed away from his hammer. He dunked the blade into the quenching barrel, and steam billowed from bubbling water near the hot sword. Devery left the sword to soak in freshwater. “I won’t need your assistance for the rest of the process. I’ll take another block of steel and meld it atop the first half. Then I’ll attach the guard, grip, and hilt, polish the surface mirror smooth, and the sword is yours. I’ll have it ready before we leave Redkeep.”

“Thank you Devery,” Ronan said.

Devery waved away the appreciation. “Don’t thank me yet, but I think the sheba alloy worked. I’ve never seen a blade react that way during the crafting.” He pulled off his heavy leather gloves. “But, I’ve never seen a knight channel that much power.”

“I thought you said magic was waning from the shards?” Ronan said.

Devery wore a puzzled expression and nodded. “Yes. And as I said, I’ve crafted that shard before, and he held half your power. I can’t explain it.”

“What did you mean when you said the sword picks the knight’s best attribute?” Ronan said.

“Yes. Every battle knight has greater aptitude enhancing one attribute. Some knights have proficiency increasing their quickness and reaction time.” Devery nodded toward Tyrell. “Patron’s gift is increased accuracy. Knights with great innate strength channel that attribute. Your blade will use characteristics of that defining attribute,” Devery said.

Tyrell extended his blade. “This blade alters its course before striking an enemy finding the best angle. It moves by an inch or less seeking flesh rather than armor.”

“Strength causes a blade to hit much harder than other shard blades,” Devery said.

“When we saw Bryson in Winter Haven, infused speed caused his blade to move faster. A knight can already swing his blade fast, but a shard blade infused with speed moves with innate quickness,” Tyrell said.

“Which attribute did my sword take?” Ronan said.

Devery shrugged. “We won’t know until you send your power through it in battle.”

“Until then, we need to prepare for departure,” Tyrell said.

***

Merric Pride knelt before the life-size sculpture of Elan staring in resplendent glory toward the heavens. He lifted his white cowl over his gray hair and forced his gaze downward as a wave of deep inadequacy washed over him.

He’d let down the great Lord. So many lost Ayralen souls in the colonies would never find His salvation. He’d given them every opportunity to find Elan’s guidance, but, instead, buried hundreds that refused to find the way. He clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and prayed to Elan for spiritual aid.

Save for the king, the Queen Mother’s Chapel behind the royal palace stood empty. A candlelight’s glow flickered from the altar providing the sole source of illumination in the tiny worship hall. Twin stained glass windows behind a statue of Elan shone dark in the dead of night. When dawn arrived, golden sunlight would fill the chapel with a rainbow of colors, but dawn wouldn’t come for hours.

Behind the prostrate king, double doors creaked open, and tentative footsteps shattered the blessed shroud of silence.

Pride raged at the interruption, but he kept it contained. He focused on his prayers, and ignored the barbaric intrusion of the interloper. He would finish his genuflection before he dealt with the disruption. He needed all of Elan’s guidance for the obstacles ahead.

The footsteps grew louder and stopped a few feet away. The intruder cleared his throat and waited for the king’s attention.

Pride resisted the urge to strangle the intruder. Elan wouldn’t tolerate violence in his place of worship. He let go a heavy sigh without turning. “What do you want Niles?”

“Pardon the interruption Your Majesty, but I felt this news couldn’t wait,” Lord Randal said.

“Do your concerns somehow outweigh Elan’s need to guide me?” Pride stood and faced Lord Randal.

Traces of fear rimmed the corners of Lord Randal’s eyes, and his grip tightened on an old wooden book. His shoulders stooped, and he shrunk from Pride’s wrath. “Of course not Your Majesty. I apologize for disturbing your reverie.” Lord Randal turned to leave.

Pride held up a hand. “Wait. You’ve already destroyed my concentration. Speak your mind so I may return to my meditation.”

Lord Randal’s shoulders eased, and a twinkle of excitement replaced the fear in his eyes. “I’ve news about the girl.” He said, voice peppered with energy.

Pride sighed. “What girl Niles?”

“Miss Deveaux Your Majesty. Danielle Deveaux.”

“Ah, yes. The Ayralen creature holding my ring. What news do you bring?”

“We may have located her Your Majesty.”

“What do you mean you may have located her? Either you did or you didn’t.”

“Goat herders near the base of Salem’s Peak reported a massive avalanche several weeks ago and told stories of a strange opening exposed in the aftermath. I sent a team of knights to investigate -”

Heat flashed behind Pride’s eyes. “Why wasn’t I told this news?”

Lord Randal’s eyes widened. “I felt it beneath your attention.” The words tumbled from his mouth. “I didn’t want to bother you without definitive news.” His eyes flickered downward unable to hold the king’s gaze. “The knights located the cave and arrested a small group of Ayralen tomb raiders looting the ruins. Our knights killed two Ayralens during the robbery. We’re holding the rest for questioning.”

“Miss Deveaux was an accomplice?” Pride said.

“Yes. A girl fitting her description helped the barbarians. I know few blond haired Ayralens Your Majesty.”

“Where did the knights take her?” Pride said.

“To the northern colony Your Majesty. I -”

“Did she carry the ring?” Pride said interrupting the twit.

“I don’t know what items she carried. I received news of her capture minutes ago and came straight here. Should I order her brought to the palace Your Majesty?”

“Why would I allow Ayralen thieves to disgrace the glory of Elan’s capital? Leave them in the northern colony. I’d like to inspect the place anyway. We’ll travel north for the interrogation. Have the Order’s Freehold battalion travel with us.”

“Yes Your Majesty. The other piece of news -”

“Have you found the boy?”

Beads of perspiration glistened on Lord Randal’s forehead. “No Your Majesty. When the knights entered Redkeep they found it abandoned.”

Lord Randal’s incompetence knew no bounds. “Did you at least leave a blockade at Winter Haven?”

“Yes Your Majesty. Commander Renault left a full battalion behind at Winter Haven. The Order controls the Lost Valley.”

Pride nodded. “Have Renault send the company north to Ironbarrow. Elan will guide us to them.”

Lord Randal nodded. “Yes Your Majesty.”

“You may go Niles,” Pride said.

“Your Majesty have you given any thought to Knight Slater’s report?” Lord Randal said.

Pride’s brow furrowed. “If I wanted to see fiction, I’d go to the theater.”

“The Ayralen that detained Knight Slater and Knight Jeremy commanded plants and vines to suffocate them,” Lord Randal said.

Pride smirked and shook his head. “Please Niles. Don’t tell me you fell for their story. I think young Bryson drank too much ale, passed out, and allowed Ronan and Tyrell to sneak past.” Waves of pity and contempt washed over him. “Honestly Niles, you’re as gullible as a schoolgirl.”

Lord Randal smiled. “I’m sure that’s it.”

“Good evening Niles, I must return to my meditation.”

“I’ve another item to discuss if it pleases Your Majesty.” He lifted the ancient book cradled beneath his arm. “The knights found this book inside a room littered with skeletons.”

Pride narrowed his eyes examining the book. “What does the book say?”

“I don’t know the book’s contents Your Majesty. I haven’t opened it. The knights found it atop a lectern inside the ruins.” Lord Randal held his breath. “I believe it’s the Book of Order.”

Pride’s stomach fluttered. “What evidence makes you believe that Niles?”

“I don’t know Your Majesty, but if it’s the Book of Order, the information it contains could change the world.”

“Did the Ayralen thieves overlook it?” Pride said.

“They said the book held no value for them. They were seeking artifacts,” Lord Randal said.

Pride nodded. He expected no less from the forest pagans. They needed religion and the discipline it brought. They would live under Elan’s strict doctrine soon enough. He smiled and placed a hand on Lord Randal’s shoulder. “You’ve done well recovering this artifact Niles. Do you see how Elan works? The avalanche revealing the cave. Elan’s blessed knights arriving in time to stop the barbarians. Elan guided this book into our hands tonight. He works in mysterious ways, but you can bet He has a plan.”

Lord Randal beamed with satisfaction. “Yes Your Majesty. I believe Elan has led us to this moment.”