Rise of the Sparrows (Relics of Ar'Zac #1) (21 page)

Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I don't have any good swords here right now, but you can try this dagger here. Tomorrow we can go into town together and find you a sword.”

She found herself smiling honestly for the first time in months. Eager to get started she picked up the small weapon from the too-large weapon rack against the wall.

An amused smile lit up Cale's eyes. “Not like that. Here, let me show you...” He took her hand into his, readjusting the dagger until her fingers were closed around it loosely but surely.

“There, that's better. Try hitting the target like that.”

She nodded, facing the stacked hay squares to their side, and lunged herself at them, burying the tip of the weapon inside the hay.

“Not bad!” He looked serious, but a hint of his smile was still playing in his eyes when the light from the oil lamp caught in them at just the right angle. “Stand like this.” He put one foot in front of the other, his knees slightly bent, and waited for Rachael to copy him. “Good, now attack. Try not to move your entire body when you do—we can focus on that later.”

She nodded, feeling the rush of adrenaline power through her Her heart was racing when the dagger once again pierced the hay, and it raced even faster when it earned her an approving nod from Cale.

She was finally doing something. Even if they ran out of time before the attack hit the White City, she would know something. Knowing that she finally had a purpose again, a goal, was enough to keep her going until the sun rose above the trees.

King Aeric had never regretted a decision as much as he regretted this one. Calling on a Mist Woman to aid him had been wrong, unforgivable, and he knew he would not live to tell his children about it—not that he had any. This war had kept him busy for a while now. There had been no time for such things as raising a family, or finding a suitable wife. It would give his people hope and return normality to his country once the war was over, but until then he had more urgent things to worry about.

He paced around his throne room, unable to sit down. The Mist Woman was not in the room with him yet, but her presence nearby was enough to put him on edge.

Clenching his fists in anger, he stopped. He knew everything that was going on in his kingdom. He was the king, after all. Knowing everything was his job, yet her... He knew nothing about her. He only knew what everyone seemed to know the moment they laid eyes on the woman. She meant trouble, and he had lost sleep wondering whether her help would be worth it. She was driven, and ambitious, and wanted to see this war end as much as he did, that much he was sure of. The means by which she wished to achieve it—he wasn't at all certain about those.

The uneasy feeling in his gut had not left him since their first meeting. She was full of ideas and had shared them without any convincing needed on his part. He'd to turn down many of them. He was against magic, yes, and he wanted this fight to come to an end, yes, but the things she was willing to do were unspeakable. They were still people—dangerous people, but even criminals were his subjects. He had to subdue them, but he could not bring himself to betray them in this fashion.

They'd finally agreed—after many hours of arguing back and forth—to simply find out where the Sparrows were hiding, round them up and give them a choice. They could either live freely in exile, or they could be executed. Far to the south the heathens of Midoka or Krymistis would take them in, he was sure of it. Witches and sorcerers, the lot of them! Still, they'd left him and his kingdom alone. He knew when to be grateful.

To his dismay, his commander himself had agreed with the vile woman. Commander Videl hated her as much as he respected his king, but when it came to eliminating the enemy, they saw eye to eye. She had a talent for cruel methods, and he was as set on revenge for his lost men as ever. King Aeric was sure that the commander was going insane with grief, but his old friend denied it whenever the topic came up.

King Aeric sighed, sitting down in his throne. He could not remember the last time he had felt so exhausted. By now he was supposed to be married to a fine noble woman from Tramura or maybe Vistria, with a son on the way. This war had halted everything. As much as he hated to admit it, those Sparrows were resourceful. He needed her to find their location and bring them all before him so that he could finally do his job and judge them appropriately.

Today was the day their strategy would be set in motion. Everything had been discussed. Their imminent meeting would move the players into position, and make the first move.

Another week. Everything would be over after another week.

A heavy knock sounded on the doors and echoed through the room. His butler would be out there greeting his commander and her, granting them entrance. A shiver ran down his spine, making the uneasy feeling grow. He cleared his throat, settling into his throne. He could act however he wanted while he was alone. Now it was time to be a king, and kings had no room for doubt or uneasy feelings haunting their dreams in the night.

The heavy-set doors opened smoothly, a marvel of old Rifarnee engineering, and his guests entered. His commander wore his best armour along with a dark smile, but it was nothing compared to her. Had the Dark One taken a wife and sired a son to rule His evil lands, she would be the one He'd have chosen.

Commander Videl bowed while she remained standing upright. Not once had she shown him the respect that befitted him. Weeks of negotiations and plotting, and not once had she addressed him appropriately in that time. He was looking forward to the day he could bring her to justice alongside all the other magic users. His commander would be honoured to swing the axe. It was simply a matter of time, now.

“Your Highness!” His commander greeted him. She remained as silent and as imposing as ever.

He tried not to let his growing anger show, and offered a courteous nod to them both. “Commander Videl. Aeron. You both know why we are here today. I trust everything is in order?”

His old friend was about to speak up when Aeron stepped in front of him, cutting him off. “The plan has been set in motion. Everything is as it should be.” She would regret the tone she was taking with him, but for now there was something else that bothered him even more. There was something underlying in her voice, a glimmer in her eyes, the evil in her twisted grin. Something was not right. Could it be that they'd disobeyed him? His anger rose at the idea and left him seething. Even his commander looked unusually smug. Below Commander Videl's respectful behaviour, King Aeric knew disloyalty was raging. He had seen it too often not to spot it now when confronted with it so boldly.

Trying his best to stay calm, he reminded himself that his old friend would never have betrayed him. It was all her doing, and she would no longer simply die for it. She would suffer, he would make sure of it.

The practice of many years of being king allowed him to keep his voice controlled while his mind was seething. “Why is it that you are here, in my throne room, when you should be out there rounding up Sparrows?”

Her grin grew ever colder. “I gave your plan some more thought after our last meeting, and decided it was insufficient. I have set another in motion instead.” The insolence! What was worse, his people would suffer because of her. Every last plan she'd suggested was more gruesome than the last. He did not want to think which one she had chosen, but he had to ask.

“Which one?” Which evil had she let loose in his city? The public burnings? The public gutting of children, until their witch parents handed themselves in? His stomach twisted thinking about all the possibilities.

“You will find out soon enough. I expect the first... afflicted will be mourned very soon.” Aeron turned around, walking back towards the doors. “I am done here. Enjoy your new Kingdom. It won't be long now until my kind have removed themselves, and you will be able to rule as you see fit.”

His heart turned cold. Could it be... Had she begun
that
plan? Out of all the demonic things she had come up with—he couldn't allow her to leave. She had to be dealt with now, or he'd never lay eyes on her again.

“Do not move another inch.” His voice was burning with his fury, and he no longer cared to contain it. “Guards! Take that woman hostage and take her to the prison!” Five guardsmen burst through the doors, crowding around the demon he had let loose on his people. How could he have been so blind? Had he truly been so cornered that he'd believed her to be the only way out?

Aeron turned around, offering him a terrible smile. One by one, his guardsmen exploded, dyeing the cold stone floor and far walls a warm red. Aeron herself was covered in their blood and strings of skin, but made no effort to wipe herself clean. His gut retching with the sight, he thought she finally looked like the foul horror she was.

“Do not come after me,
king
, or your fate will be worse than theirs.” With that, she vanished into thin air.

Trembling in his throne, he turned to his commander who refused to look behind him. Judging by the look on his face which had replaced his smug grin, Commander Videl knew very well what had transpired behind his back. Even more of his men had been wiped out by magic. He would be all too glad to kill Aeron himself, but King Aeric was no longer sure that she could be killed—not by any means known to him.

“What is the meaning of this?” His voice had lost all power, but it was silent enough in the throne room to hear a mouse in the kitchen beneath sniff for cheese.

Grim determination entered Commander Videl's face. “Do not worry, my king. Soon your country will be yours to lead, without the pest that is magic infesting its every corner.”

Hearing the betrayal of his once loyal friend aloud, King Aeric sank back into his throne, no longer sure that he still wanted to lead a country he had won by such means.

“Here, try this one.” Cale handed Rachael yet another lightweight sword to try out. They had spent all morning browsing the market, and despite her aching feet she had not yet grown tired of trying new weapons, or seeing what the other stalls had to offer.

It was the most amazing place Rachael had ever been to. People were everywhere, and even though it was crowded she didn't feel backed into a corner. Everywhere she looked, she saw something new. The wonderful smell of spices and meats hung in the air, accents she'd never heard before rang through the market like the excited chatter of birds first thing in the morning. All that was accompanied by the lively banter of the crowd all around her, as they tried new things and laughed at the beauty of it all. Rachael became infected by the intensity. No matter where she looked, people smiled. The tents were colourful, the merchants enthusiastic and the crowd was swept up in their eagerness to sell their wares. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen, and she found herself curious about every last stall.

Cale hadn't bothered to hide his face within such a lively swarm. There were guards stationed to the sides but there were so many people that no one managed to get a good look at any one face for long.

Some people recognized him nonetheless, and each time someone greeted him or gave him a knowing nod her heart jumped. So many people seemed to know who he was and support their cause, yet no one told the guards who he was. Within the dense bustle of the market, they were hidden and safe.

People knew who she was, too. Cale introduced her by name several times, yet no one called her Sparrow. In fact, no one mentioned their movement at all. There was a silent understanding between Cale and the city she admired and found fascinating. They were right in the wolf's clearing—all they had to do was make a wrong move and the hungry predators would leap, but no one said a word. She hadn't realised how strong their support was, or how far it reached. There was an impressive bounty on their heads, yet the others stuck together to keep them hidden in the openness of the market instead of going for the gold.

It was inspiring as well as fascinating to see people act in such a way. She'd never thought it possible, yet here she was in the centre of it.

While Cale felt safe enough not to hide who he was, he'd insisted she wear a veil. It was an exotic garment he had purchased for her, and she enjoyed wearing it. Never had she owned anything like it, something with colours so vibrant or made with a fabric so luxuriously soft and rich she never wanted to wear anything else again. Compared to her old life of wearing rags this was bliss. Knowing the need to stay hidden only too well, she had not minded when Cale had asked her to wear it. Now she wasn't so sure he would ever get her out of it again.

Excited, she accepted the long sword. It lay easily in her hands and her fingers closed around it naturally. She dreaded to hear the price of it, even though Cale had assured her that it didn't matter. He was as excited with her learning to fight as she was, and was happy to help—even if that help cost a small fortune.

“How's it feel, m'lady? D'ye like it?” Giving it a few careful swings at the training dummy by the stall, she nodded. The blade felt right in her hands, and was a perfect fit between her fingers.

“What do these mean?” She eyed the beautiful intricate designs running along the blade. They looked similar to the ones on Cale's sword, but seemed to have a story of their own. If the sun caught the blade at just the right angle they seemed to come alive, dancing across the steel to a music only they could hear.

“They's a charm, m'lady. From the old kingdom. They's to protect and strengthen the bearer.”

“A charm? And they let you sell it here?” Cale crossed his arms, prepared to question any claims he didn't believe. Merchants from Midoka and Krymistis had few stalls in the market, and the ones that were allowed inside the walls were only authorised to sell spices and fabrics. King Aeric permitted nothing that could pose a potential threat to him or his people. Given his hate for the gifted, Rachael was surprised that he let them into his city at all.

“Aye, they do. They's just scribbles, sir. Nothing dange'rous.”

With a suspicious gleam in his eyes Cale nodded and held out his hand to take the sword. Reluctant to let go of such a beautiful weapon, Rachael placed it into his open palm.

“How much for it?”

“A thousand gold pieces, sir.”

“A thousand—” Rachael wanted to protest, but Cale cut her off.

“Thank you, we'll take it.”

“But—”

“Trust me, Rachael. It's fine. There are swords far more expensive than this one. You like this one, don't you?” He was right—they had been looking at more costly swords all morning. Still, a thousand gold pieces was a lot of money to her. A thousand silvers would have been unthinkable. Giving in, she nodded. For something made to kill it was remarkably beautiful, more a piece of art than a weapon. It was hard to take her eyes off it.

Cale opened a small sack full of coins of varying sizes and shapes and handed over the asked for price.