Shard Knight (Echoes Across Time Book 1) (3 page)

Arianne’s expression softened. “They’ve told you a lot haven’t they. I’ll have a word with them about loose tongues.”

“Please don’t mother. I begged them to tell me. I-”

“I’m joking Ronan. It’s okay.” She dabbed the corner of her eye. “I know I haven’t been forthcoming with many details over the years. There’s more to it I’m afraid.” She fidgeted with the handkerchief and averted her gaze. “As you mentioned, right before your birth I’d inherited the crown from your grandfather. The times were dangerous because of his foolish treatment of the Ayralens.” She paused for a long moment, and her eyes lost their focus.

Ronan searched his mother’s face, but she appeared lost in another time and place.

She turned her gaze back toward him and squeezed his hand. A single teardrop fell from her eye and rolled across her smooth pale cheek. “Please don’t be angry. We wanted to protect you. We did all we could.”

“We? What’re you talking about? Do you mean Master Tyrell?”

A loud knocking rattled the heavy silence of Ronan’s bedchamber, and Arianne jumped with a startled surprise.

Ronan’s shoulders sagged. “I’ll be right back mother, don’t go away.” He crossed the room and opened the door.

Patron Tyrell stood in the doorway. “I’m sorry for the intrusion Your Highness.” His eyes flickered past Ronan to the queen who stepped up behind him. He bowed. “Your Majesty. I apologize, but I wanted to make the prince aware of the time. The first guests are arriving in the reception hall.”

Arianne nodded. “Of course Commander Tyrell. Thank you. We’ll come downstairs shortly.”

Tyrell nodded, bowed, and pulled the door closed.

Ronan’s stomach fluttered. In the next hour he’d wear the title of shard knight joining Master Tyrell and Sir Alcott within the Order’s ranks. He still needed to change into his dress uniform.

Arianne dried her tear-stained face. “I must look a mess. I’ll need to fetch Mistress Pell and have her fix my makeup before I go downstairs. We’ll speak after the ceremony?” She gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and paused opening the door. Arianne glanced over her shoulder letting her eyes linger on Ronan. “I love you with my whole heart. Always have. Always will.”

Ronan smiled. His mother hadn’t used that phrase since she’d tucked him into bed as a little boy. “I love you too mother,” he said.

A slight smile crossed her face. She blew him a kiss and pulled the door closed behind her.

***

A muffled scream of terror split the silence of Ronan’s bedchamber.

Ronan froze with his hands hovering over the gold buttons of his dress uniform. A tingle that started in his brain spread through his neck and into his fingertips. With his mind locked, his mouth fell open, and he stared without focus at the buttons in the mirror. The scream conveyed mortal danger, and it hadn’t come from the party four floors below. He couldn’t even hear the orchestra play from the first floor let alone a single voice. The scream came from inside the royal wing.

Ronan cocked his head and perked his ears.

Another scream rocked the stark silence of Ronan’s quarters. It sounded like a short guttural command.

Ronan’s chest tightened, and a wave of numbness rolled through his body that ended with a tingling in his toes. The voice triggered an instinctual response. It belonged to his mother, and she told him to run. He spun and sprinted toward the open closet. As he entered, he pulled the door shut behind him.

As soon as the door closed, the sound of splintering wood preceded a large crashing noise. A pair of heavy footsteps lumbered against Ronan’s hardwood floor and stopped. “Look under the bed. He’s hiding here somewhere,” a muffled voice said.

Ronan’s breathing came in labored pulls as he made his way through the dark closet. He recognized that voice, but couldn’t place it. The trunk appeared along his closet’s rear wall, and he flipped open the lid.

“He’s in here. You didn’t see him come out. Did you?” The voice spoke closer this time. “Check the closet.”

Ronan pressed a trembling hand onto a thick stack of books piled high inside the trunk. He held back a scream as his subconscious mind gave him the answer. The voice belonged to Bryson Slater.

The layer of books gave way beneath a heavy spring connecting a false door to the trunk’s bottom. Ronan slipped into the footlocker and pulled the trunk lid closed behind him.

As the closet door creaked opened, light poured through slits and tiny cracks in the trunk’s walls. “Where in Elan’s seven hells is he?” Hangers clattered and banged against the closet floor as Bryson rummaged through Ronan’s clothing.

Ronan held his breath and eased the trunk’s false bottom back into place.

“He’s in that trunk along the wall. See it there? I’d bet my mother’s life on it,” the second voice said. As the trunk’s lid opened, a sliver of Bryson’s pale face appeared through cracks in the false bottom.

Despite the onset of painful leg cramps, Ronan dared not move a muscle.

Bryson’s face shifted, and his right eye moved into a position that looked straight into the space Ronan occupied.

“Books. Leave it to Ronan to have a pile of books in his room,” Bryson said.

“Books? Are you sure? Let me see,” the second voice said.

Ronan’s pulse raced so fast his temples throbbed in time with his heartbeat. The breath he’d held since entering the trunk demanded release causing small stars to appear at the edge of his vision. In the next thirty seconds he’d pass out.

“What you’ll see is that your mother’s life isn’t worth a bucket of piss.” Bryson slammed the trunk closed.

Ronan released the spent air and breathed creating as little noise as possible. Spasms of pain shot through his leg as they begged for release.

“Let’s check the other rooms. Maybe the little piss ant went down the hall.” Bryson’s voice trailed off as he left the closet.

His mother screamed again, this one a bloodcurdling screech that made Ronan’s flesh crawl. He reached behind him, found the small metallic lever near the base of the trunk’s rear wall, and pulled.

An audible click echoed through the cramped space, and the rear panel dropped open.

Fresh air rushed into the cramped trunk providing Ronan a strange sense of relief. He pushed himself backward through the panel, stood, and shook the cramps from his legs.

Darkness pervaded the hallway that offered a stealth retreat for every room located inside the royal wing. Occasional pockets of light spilled through the odd crack casting twisted shadows along the tight passageway.

He crept along the corridor until he reached the hidden door to his mother’s room. Beyond the door, muffled shouts and the sound of combat did little to put his mind at ease. As he twisted the knob set low on the wall, he pushed in, and his mother’s dark closet opened in front of him.

Amid rows of formal gowns, day dresses, handbags and jewelry trees, the queen’s middle shoe rack provided cover for the door on the closet’s interior.

Ronan pulled free the knife hidden in his boot, stepped into the queen’s closet, and pushed on the shoe rack until it clicked shut behind him. He moved past dressers, gowns, and a full-length mirror until he stood in front of the door to the queen’s bedchamber. With his hand gripping the doorknob, he sucked in a few short breaths and pushed the door open.

Chaos reigned in the queen’s quarters. Arianne crouched behind a long walnut desk tipped onto its side. Her face held an expression of stark terror. A translucent blue spirit shield shimmered around her providing a barrier of magical protection.

In front of the desk, blood spread outward beneath a shard healer’s corpse. Next to his head, a small glowing white shard sat perched on the plush carpet.

From the shard’s milky center, swirls of white light weaved and intertwined bouncing off its glassy surface.

Knight Kristin Delamar who had earned her shard during Ronan’s first year at the citadel stood next to the fallen shard healer in front of the desk. A translucent spirit barrier surrounded her, and in her outstretched palm blossomed a small orb of bright blue magical energy. The ball shot from her hand, crossed the room within a second, and struck the magical shield of Knight Orren Reuben.

Ronan staggered backward and tried to make sense of the pandemonium spread across the battered room. Knight Orren had taught Ronan the basics of small group battle tactics. He considered the man’s moral fiber unblemished, and couldn’t understand why he attacked his mother.

Next to Knight Orren, Knight Clement Tarbell, a battle knight known to frequent Freehold’s brothels readied his steel kite shield and shard blade. One of Knight Orren’s magical shields surrounded the traitor making him one of the deadliest creatures to ever walk the world’s surface.

Ronan could understand a man with Clement’s code of ethics committing treason, but not Orren.

Another knight, a shard healer, lay flat on his back staring through glassy eyes into empty space.

Ronan recognized the dead healer.

Knight Aldric Morefield studied at Freehold’s seminary and had plans on rising to priesthood. From his position among the combatants, Knight Aldric had fought alongside the traitors. The white shard of the healing sect shimmered inches from his outstretched arm.

In a blurred flash of motion, Knight-Sergeant Phineas Brunte leaped over the desk and landed next to Kristen. The veteran knight led the citadel guard and remained one of Master Tyrell’s closest friends. He wielded a two-handed double bladed shard ax. Yellow energy traveled up the handle and swirled around the twin blades lending the weapon a menacing presence. Brunte’s eyes went wide when he caught sight of Ronan standing outside the queen’s closet. “Your Highness! Run!”

“I’ve got him Phineas,” Kristen said.

Ronan had no plans on leaving his mother, but he couldn’t imagine how he’d have any impact on this fight. A moment later a translucent blue shield sprang to life around him. Although he saw through the magical barrier, the shapes of people and objects appeared distorted.

“Ronan!” Arianne reached out to him.

Ronan lowered his head and dashed across the room positioning himself next to his mother.

Arianne gripped Ronan’s arm with trembling hands. “Where’s Tyrell?”

“I don’t know mother. I haven’t seen him.”

“Stay near me Ronan. Don’t leave my side. Do you hear me?”

She gripped his arm so hard he thought she’d stop the blood flow. He managed a weak nod and flinched as the desk’s corner exploded inches from his face. Splinters of wood tore into his shield but burned away in seconds leaving him unscathed.

Brunte, a small powerfully built knight, crossed the room in a blur. His ax flashed in a yellow streak before he buried it in the side of Orren’s shield.

Orren’s shield ignited in a bright spray of blue sparks and flickered for a moment before reappearing.

Kristen laid a barrage of spirit attacks around Brunte’s feet blasting holes in the ornate carpet and the floorboards beneath. She meant to keep Clement away from Brunte.

Without looking at Brunte, Clement lifted his steel knight’s shield and leaped across the room in a single bound. He hammered the magical field surrounding Kristen with his kite shield causing her shield to flicker and push her backwards into the desk.

As Orren readied an attack of his own, Brunte whirled with blinding speed sending his ax again into the magical barrier.

As the shield flickered, Ronan stood from his hiding place and sent his dagger flying end over end and watched it bury itself in Orren’s throat.

Orren’s eyes went wide with shock, and his hand flew up to his throat. He cried out but instead produced a sickening gurgling noise and dropped to his knees.

Brunte’s ax flashed again, and a streak of yellow blurred toward the man’s neck. The ax never slowed as it cut through Orren’s neck severing his head from his shoulders. A geyser of blood sprayed from the dead knight’s headless body, and he tipped forward collapsing onto the ornate carpet of the queen’s chamber.

Blue light streamed from the fallen knight swirling around his body. The light coalesced into a bright point near Orren’s breastplate. Within moments, it hardened forming a glassy shell around a dark blue center. Weaves consisting of varying shades of blue energy traveled the interior of the shard bouncing from side to side.

The sphere surrounding Clement scattered at the same moment his blade traveled through Kristen’s weakened shield and cut a hole the size of a cantaloupe through her breastplate.

The talented young shield knight grunted as her mouth opened in shock. She stared wide eyed at Clement’s shard blade jutting from her chest, blood flowed from the corners of her open mouth. Kristen’s bloody body slid along the desk’s surface and fell onto the floor twisting at an awkward angle.

Clement leaned his weight into the blade, and it sunk through her body pinning her to the carpet. “How do you like that bitch?”

The sphere protecting Ronan and the queen evaporated leaving them vulnerable to attack.

In a blurred flash of motion, Brunte sailed across the room swinging his ax at Clement’s back like a lumberjack felling a tree. The ax blade’s lead edge burst through Clement’s breastplate. He placed his foot against Clement’s back and pushed off while pulling free his ax. The traitorous battle knight fell face first into front of the tipped over desk and collapsed in a twisted heap atop Kristen’s corpse.