Shard Knight (Echoes Across Time Book 1) (29 page)

“Kelwin, can you make another rope?”

Kelwin nodded. Without further instruction he dropped a seed atop the wall, and a thick vine lurched over the rampart’s edge and disappeared into the dark gray fog.

As Ronan slid down the vine, the sickening stench of death grew heavy laying like a thick blanket across camp. When he touched ground, the foul odor forced him to hold his breath, and his stomach contracted with nausea. He needed all five senses working for him and couldn’t afford to cut off the horrific odor. With watering eyes he forced short hard breaths through his nose and crouched waiting for Tyrell and Kelwin.

First Tyrell then Kelwin landed near Ronan. Kelwin moved his hand near the vine ready to release it.

Ronan touched his shoulder and said in the barest whisper. “Leave it Kelwin. We need a quick way over the wall.”

Ahead, the dark outline of a ramshackle wooden barracks loomed. The building had no door and provided nothing for warmth. Winter’s first freeze would kill any souls lucky enough to survive that long.

Ronan scrambled forward sidestepping a pile of debris. As he approached the nearest barracks, he paused signaling Tyrell and Kelwin to stop.

A horse’s whinny filled the strange silence of the predawn air. Atop a creaky wagon, a gaunt white haired driver sat with stooped shoulders guiding a team of horses through the impenetrable wall of fog.

“I don’t know how you’re steering this wagon. I can’t see past the tip of my nose in this damn fog.” The voice came from the wagon’s rear end.

The toothless driver pulled the reigns hard, and the wagon stopped. “I’ve driven this route a hundred times. I could do it blindfolded. If you’re done squawking, there’s work to do.”

A barrel-chested guard slipped from the wagon’s rear seat. “Come on Briggs. Time to work.”

A short stocky guard groaned as he eased from his seat, and shambled toward a pile of dead bodies. “Why can’t we just leave these stacked? We stopped by this barracks two days ago.”

A few yards away, a neat pile of thin corpses lay stacked like logs awaiting a fire.

“You know what the captain said. The king arrived late last night, and he doesn’t want him to sick up with the dead piled sky-high near his breakfast plate,” the big man said.

Ronan’s blood ran cold. Why would Pride visit the northern death camp? He could’ve killed Rika any time in the past. He glanced over his shoulder at Tyrell.

Tyrell shrugged and shook his head.

The guards heaped the lifeless bodies of women and children atop the corpses already filling the wagon bed. They flung the remains with all the solemnity used to clean a dirty chamber pot. After a few minutes of silent work, the guards climbed aboard the wagon. The larger guard smacked the side of the wagon, and the ancient driver flicked his reins. Moments later, the wagon disappeared into a bank of dark fog.

Ronan forged ahead weaving around piles of broken bodies and discarded debris. As he traveled past the barracks, the occasional child’s cry or the moan of a woman’s grief raised the hair on his neck.

He hurried through the fog disconnecting his mind from the horror surrounding him. If he allowed his thoughts to linger on the black grief blanketing the camp, it would consume him.

Through the dense fog, the guardhouse slipped into view a dozen paces ahead. Light poured from windows on the building’s eastern half, and at its peak, guards patrolled the building’s roof line.

If he snuck through the guardhouse and found Merric Pride, Ronan could end relentless suffering fed by thousands of souls. That prospect sent a rush of adrenaline pumping through his blood.

Ronan closed his eyes, and forced his thoughts toward their designed goal. He couldn’t risk the lives of Tyrell, Kelwin, Rika, and himself. The team’s capture and death would end the Meranthian resistance effort and kill hope for a brighter future. He wouldn’t repeat his mistake at the palace.

Ronan chased away those thoughts and darted a dozen steps ahead reaching the guardhouse undetected.

Kelwin reached Ronan first, and Tyrell followed. The three men flattened themselves against the building’s stone wall and snaked ahead slipping around the guardhouse’s northeast corner.

Halfway along the building’s northern face the small steel door waited.

Ronan inched his way along the wall until he felt the door beneath his extended hand. He glanced toward Tyrell and Kelwin and nodded.

Kelwin and Tyrell held Ronan’s gaze, and each man nodded in turn.

Ronan let out a held breath, pushed off the wall, and spun around to face the door. As his fingertips touched the iron door handle, it began turning from the building’s interior.

Ronan froze, and a fresh wash of adrenaline raced through his body. He slipped the sheba blade free from its scabbard strapped to his shoulders.

Steel rang as the sound of Ronan’s blade cut the predawn silence. The metal door creaked open, and light poured outward exposing Ronan, Tyrell, and Kelwin.

A pair of startled shard knights stared wide-eyed and frozen as they witnessed the first flows of energy race through the new blade.

The sword glowed like a red-hot beacon as Ronan sent flows of rage induced magic pouring through its core.

The enemy knights raised their forearm blocking the blinding scarlet light pouring from Ronan’s blade.

Dawn came early to northern Meranthia that day as the illumination from Ronan’s blade split the fog like a red alien sun signaling the arrival of the righteous king.

Breakfast With The King

Two shard knights stood behind the king’s dining chair as a servant unloaded the last tray of breakfast food. The servant scooped hot eggs and bacon onto a fine white china plate, bowed, and placed it before the king.

“Thank you Monty, it smells delicious,” Pride said.

Monty bowed. “Very good Your Majesty.” He left leaving Pride and the shard knights alone with the three Ayralen colonists.

Four thick slices of bacon sat atop a mountain of golden scrambled eggs blanketing Pride’s breakfast plate.

His mouth watered as his eyes devoured the feast. He took a sip from a steaming mug of coffee and licked his lips savoring the rich flavor of the beans. Elan favored those who favored Him, and this generous breakfast proved the perfect example.

The three women sat silent at the opposite end of the long cherry table. Unlike Pride, their plates remained cold and empty. They stared with hungry eyes at heaping plates of food like vultures circling carrion.

Pride’s stomach growled as the aroma of hot biscuits hit his nose. “Ah, but those biscuits smell delicious. Don’t they?”

Keely licked her lips and eyeballed the biscuits.

Pride grinned and couldn’t help but find amusement at her plight. He twisted open the flaky biscuit and let the aroma roll down the table toward the starving women. Steam billowed from the fresh biscuit, and Pride set it on his plate.

He picked up a carafe loaded with pure honey and drizzled it atop the biscuit letting the excess ooze onto his plate. These women hadn’t eaten in weeks, but it struck him odd the ravages of hunger should’ve taken a greater toll on their physical health. Ronan’s girlfriend had served penance for months yet she appeared fresh as a daisy. “Tell me Miss Finn, you’ve spent two months without Elan’s nourishment yet you sit at my table looking as if you ate just yesterday?” Pride said as he inhaled a large bite of scrambled eggs.

Rika shrugged. “I can’t explain it.”

Pride’s anger flared. He demanded respect. He pounded his fist on the table. “Your Majesty. You will address me as Your Majesty. Do you understand me?”

Rika flushed. “I…ah…yes Your Majesty. I can’t explain it Your Majesty.”

Keely stifled a grin staring at her empty plate.

“Do you take me for a fool? You three live only by Elan’s grace. If I listened to my darker thoughts, I’d pile you…women atop a trash heap with the rest of this colony’s rubbish. Answer my question Miss Finn.” He bit into a thick strip of bacon gobbling half in a single mouthful.

“Through prayer and meditation, Elan has spared me the wrath of famine Your Majesty.” Rika clasped her hands together and nodded her head in prayer.

The bitch dared mock him. He’d have answers before breakfast ended. He had more important questions, and the company of these three Ayralens made him nauseous. “I see. Perhaps I’ll post guards within the cell? They might benefit from your meditations.”

Rika didn’t flinch. “Yes. I think the camp guards would gain great insight. Thank you Your Majesty. What do you think Danielle?”

“Huh? What?” Danielle’s gaze focused on her personal items piled up on the breakfast table. Her pouch, staff, and ring laid inches from Pride’s reach.

Pride grinned. Like a lamb to slaughter, she couldn’t resist. “Miss Deveaux, are you feeling okay? You seem…distracted,” Pride said.

“I’d like my ring back Your Majesty. It’s a personal item and returning it would bring you no harm,” Danielle said.

A thin smile spread across Pride’s pasty cheeks. “Oh? What’s special about the ring?” He gulped a mouthful of coffee washing away a chunk of bacon stuck in his teeth.

“As I said, its value is purely sentimental. It’s a Deveaux family ring.”

Pride furrowed his brow. “How do I know you didn’t steal it from the Meranthian dig site in Salem’s Peak? You and your friends did untold damage to the most important discovery in centuries.”

Danielle’s face reddened. “We took nothing from those ruins. We found a dusty old book and left it alone.”

He didn’t want to hear about the damn book. He’d burn the bloody book and every tree in the Ayralen forest one day soon. He picked up the gold ring and placed it in his outstretched palm. “Do you know what this ring is Miss Deveaux?” He stood and pushed his chair away.

Danielle’s cheeks grew red. “Like I said, it’s been in my family for years-”

Heat swelled in his neck, and flashes of rage thumped in rhythm with his heartbeat. He’d not tolerate this insolent child to sit before the Meranthian king and spew lies. “Lies!” He swept his hand across the table sending his breakfast plate flying.

Pride’s breakfast plate smashed against the stone wall near the hearth sending eggs, bacon, and shattered bits of china skittering.

Danielle recoiled and covered her face in a defensive posture.

Waves of anger washed over him. She’d pay for her insolence. Pride stormed around the table and stood towering over Danielle. “How do the rings interact with Elan’s Heart? Tell me!”

Her eyes went wide with panic. “I don’t know, I -”

He reached his arm back and swung. His hand went numb as his diamond ring drove into the soft flesh of her cheek. “You’re a dirty liar!”

The impact sent Danielle flying backward. Her chair tipped over, and she rolled across the rich woven carpet of the dining room floor.

Rika jumped to her feet reaching for her nonexistent belt knife.

Keely flung her chair back, jumped to her feet, and whirled on Pride.

Danielle’s hand moved to her cheek, and she turned panic-stricken eyes on Keely and Rika. “No Keely! Stop!”

He controlled these women. Their Ayralen submission sickened him. At least the Queen fought for her life. “I’d listen to your friend Miss Bouchard. You’d not enjoy the result.”

Danielle held onto her cheek and sat upright. “I don’t know anything about Elan’s Heart. My father gave me the ring on my tenth birthday. Beyond that, I know nothing. I promise on all I hold dear.”

“Tell me of the second ring. Where’s it hidden?” He said.

Danielle’s face twisted in confusion. “I don’t know about another ring. I swear.”

Pride slipped the ring into the pocket of his white silk robe and turned his back on Danielle. He gazed at the bigger shard knight standing at the ready. “Bryson, I’ve lost my appetite. Do as you please.”

A greasy smile slithered over the knight’s stubbly jaw. “Thank you Your Majesty.” His smile faded as the dining room doors crashed open.

Pride spun, and a thick shimmering shield flashed around him an instant later.

The servant, Monty, skidded to a halt just inside the doorway. “Your Majesty.” His breathless words came in short bursts as he struggled to catch his breath. “The camp’s defense has failed. Intruders are battering the doors. Please! Hurry!”

“Your Majesty, we need to take you to the safe room,” Bryson said.

In Elan’s name he didn’t need this distraction. Another colony uprising? He thought he’d seen the last of those. Pride nodded. “Yes, of course. Bryson, come with me. Jeremy, shield these women, and hold them until I return.”

Jeremy extended his arm, and detention shields appeared around the Ayralen women. “They won’t escape Your Majesty.”

Pride brushed past the trapped women and left the dining room with Bryson and the harried servant in toe.

***

Danielle waited for the dining room doors to close then spun on the shard knight. “I’m giving you fair warning. Drop the shields or I’ll respond with violence.”

Jeremy doubled over laughing. “I mean no offense.” He held up his armored hand. “Really I don’t, but you’re an unarmed, half-starved, slip of a girl. I’m sorry the king hit you. It’s wrong to hit a lady, especially one with your spectacular beauty.” He held up both hands in a pleading gesture. “There’s nothing I can do to prevent it. Whether it’s right or wrong, I pledged an oath to uphold the king’s law.” He shook his head “No, you’ll stay here until the king returns.”