Storm Surge (9 page)

“They already are,” Maiten replied with a smug smile. “I am very careful to ensure I’m too busy to accept the affections of our mares. I will not repay her loyalty by straying from her nest.”

“Nest?”

“What else do you call the home of a woman who keeps six kingmakers as pets?”

Breton’s mouth dropped open, but he couldn’t find a single word to say. No one kept kingmakers as pets within the Rift. A single bite from an adult ensured death, with one exception: the Rift King.

“Madness,” he stammered.

“Which one? Her, or him for giving them to her? With them defending her nest, I’ve no worries for her.”

“They’re
kingmakers
, Maiten!”

“So they are. Lethal and beautiful, just like her, really.”

Breton rubbed at his brow, unable to believe what he was hearing. Of all of the things he had expected from the conversation, his friend besotted with a Mithrian
Akakashani
and her serpents hadn’t been among them. “So what do we do about Delaven?”

“I should tan his hide for leaving his dam. If he’s anything like her, and I daresay his sire, he’ll do anything in his power to get what he wants, so we may as well surrender now and cooperate.” Maiten reached down, patting Gorishitorik. “You’re here and so is the sword. There’s no reason we can’t make him into a Guardian. Best of all, should we, he’ll bring His Majesty right back to us in a hurry.”

Breton pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you trying to convince my foal to kill us both?”

“Don’t lie, you’re worried about him. This will simply encourage him to come back a little faster.”

“I’d rather he have at least some caution returning to us!”

“Him? Caution? Breton, old friend, think about who we are speaking about here. You’re asking the impossible. At least this solves several problems. First, he won’t wander any which way he wants if he’s trying to figure out what’s happening to him. You know how strong the pull is when a Guardian is made. We’ll have no problems convincing Delaven to stay with us. He’ll make a fine Guardian, too. Second, His Majesty needs someone loyal to him first and above all. We’re loyal, but I was made under Arik’s shadow, and you were made under Nerisan’s.”

Breton stiffened, scowling at Maiten. “He has had no need for other Guardians.”

“I know, I know. He uses us masterfully, protecting us far better than he protects himself. But that will change. It must change.” With narrowed eyes, Maiten turned Horasian and glowered in the swarm’s direction. “He means to Ride, my friend. I’m certain of it. And when he does, we must protect him from those who don’t honor the Code, guarding him as we should have all along.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Then we’re agreed? His Majesty will come. We have you, his sword, and his new Guardian.”

“You are a little too eager for this, Maiten. Isn’t your Mithrian mare going to murder you should His Majesty fail to?”

“She’ll forgive me.”

“How are you so sure of that?”

Maiten leaned towards him and whispered, “It’s in her best interests. Think about it, she became an
Akakashani
to pay back a debt to His Majesty. Who better to protect him than her own colt? She’ll be more than pleased. I’ve been trying to decide if I should tell you or not, but I guess there’s no harm in sharing this with you, seeing how much I’ve told you already. She’s His Majesty’s most valuable
Akakashani.
”

“Any Mithrian
Akakashani
is surely valuable,” he replied doubtfully, pausing a moment to consider Maiten’s enthusiasm. “What makes her special?”

With a smile that widened to a full-fledged grin, Maiten replied, “She made herself into a Shadow Captain.”

~~*~~

Breton wanted nothing more than to find a quiet place to lie down and sleep, if only to delay having to approach Captain Silvereye about Maiten’s foal. While he was convinced making Delaven into a Guardian was wise, he couldn’t bring himself to make the offer to the boy without speaking to the Crimson Eye’s captain first.

Once he took up Gorishitorik and committed himself to performing the ritual, there was no turning back or reversing it. He hoped he wouldn’t regret his decision to go along with Maiten’s plan. While Breton wanted Kalen to have Guardians loyal to him first and above all, what price would they pay for choosing an
Akakashani’s
foal?

Glaring at Maiten wasn’t going to solve any of his problems, either. With a heavy sigh, he nudged Perin into a canter, riding alongside the company in search of Captain Silvereye. He found the Mithrian sitting on his horse at the top of a knoll, looking out over the landscape.

“Captain, could I have a moment?” he asked, reining Perin in at a respectful distance. When the Mithrian waved a hand in an accepting gesture, Breton nudged his horse closer. “There is something I would like to ask of you.”

“I’ve heard confirmation that your king has, once again, vanished from our keeping. Does what you wish to ask of me relate to that, perhaps?”

“It does, Captain.”

“You don’t seem alarmed, Guardian. Why is this?”

“His Majesty is in no danger. Our witch has gone to retrieve him for us. All things considered, I felt it wise that most of us Guardians remain with the company.” Breton straightened, careful to meet the captain’s steady gaze without flinching away. “That said, I would like to propose something to ensure they are able to find us.”

Captain Silvereye narrowed his eyes. “Would you please explain why he is not with us?”

“Unfortunately, luck and circumstances outside of our control, Captain. His Majesty has been recovering well and bristling under the necessary restrictions. In order to preserve his temper, Guardian Maiten took him for a walk to see the horses. There was no way of knowing the swarm would come. In the chaos, he was separated from us.” When the Mithrian’s posture relaxed, Breton averted his eyes and tangled his fingers in Perin’s mane.

The explosion he expected didn’t come. Instead, Silvereye stood in the stirrups and shouted, “Company, halt! We camp here for the night.”

The change in the mercenaries was immediate. The careful lines of riders and wagons split, spreading out to circle the knoll. Breton watched as horses were cared for and unsaddled and tents popped up in neat rows. There didn’t appear to be any coordination between the men and women, but it didn’t take long for the line transformed into a duplicate of the camp they had left behind earlier in the day.

“Let me guess, he ended up on the wrong side of the destruction?” Silvereye sighed. “There truly should be limits on the poor luck one person suffers through.”

“So it seems. I would like to make a proposal.”

“I’m listening.”

Breton swallowed, braced himself, and said, “I would like to subjugate one of your mercenaries and turn him into a Guardian.”

Captain Silvereye’s only reaction was the slight widening of his eyes. For several more minutes, they watched the mercenaries, and it took every bit of Breton’s patience and will not to fidget while he waited for the Mithrian to respond. The captain reminded him of when Kalen faced a particularly difficult problem with no easy solution. So Breton sat still and quiet while waiting.

“I can almost understand why so many want you Rifters to stay in your canyons. Wherever you go, you bring change and chaos. You challenge things by doing exactly what you want and nothing else. I should’ve known the Rift King’s men would be similar to the one they serve. I can’t have you drawn and quartered, however tempting that might be. It’s usually considered a crime to try to hire away men from a loyalty company such as mine, Guardian. But you Rifters have taught me a few things in the past few weeks. You always do something for a reason. Explain yourself, Guardian. Which one of my men do you want and why?”

“The boy named Delavan is the one we want. He’s Rifter-born.”

“We of Mithrias do not care about the circumstances of a man’s birth.”

Breton lifted his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I’m aware, Captain. Considering the nature of a Guardian’s duties, however, someone with a Rift bloodline is ideal.”

Captain Silvereye’s expression hardened. “And you have reason to think one of
my
men would be loyal to the Rift King?”

Matching the Mithrian’s cold tone, Breton replied, “I think he could serve as a very valuable liaison between you and us. Loyal to the Rift King, yes, but with bias towards your company. It’s a risk on both of our parts. Should you decide to turn against the Rift, however, I think one man’s loyalty will be the least of your concerns.”

“No, I expect His Majesty is reason enough for me to worry. I’m well aware of the ramifications if the Rift made drastic shift in its political stance. There are many kingdoms outside of the Six who would immediately fall under the Rift’s guidance. The Rift King has forged many alliances, should he wish to use them.”

Breton winced but couldn’t dispute the Mithrian’s claim. The Rift King was many things, but he took care with the missives he wrote, with his
Akakashani
, and with forming relationships with those in power. Danar and Kelsh were the real exceptions. Some disliked his direct approach, his willingness to take risks and make educated guesses, and his disregard for certain protocols, but many did respect the Rift King’s intellect.

“Delaven, is it? Isn’t he a bit young?”

“Not much younger than when His Majesty became the Rift King.” Breton shrugged, shook his head, and stared over the camp. While the line of mercenaries continued to stretch through the light woods, the camp grew more established as the men and women joined forces to set up tents, clear space, and picket the horses. Some gathered wood from the forest for fires, others took to their horses, armed with bows to go on the hunt, while others secured the tents. Patrols scouted around the fringes of the camp, both on foot and on horseback.

Captain Silvereye asked, “What caught your eye about him?”

Breton shook his head. “He approached us. He was raised with a very healthy respect of the Rift, and rumors of His Majesty’s presence in the camp brought him to us. We did not initiate contact with him, I assure you. But, considering the current state of affairs and what has happened to Morinvale, I am uncomfortable with only four Guardians here. A fifth could prove useful for us, and for you as well.”

“I do not mean any offense to you or your fellow Guardians, Breton, but in war, five men can’t hope to protect one. You Rifters are inexperienced. Black hands exist, and once other companies learn that the Rift King has left the safety of his canyons, they will try to kill him.” Captain Silvereye gestured to the camp below. “It takes one traitor to cost a man his life. While the Crimson Eye is a loyalty company, I have no way of knowing if there are traitors in my midst. There likely are. Those who remain are the best in Mithrias, which is why they’re still hidden among my men and women. It is a constant worry among companies.”

“We are unaccustomed to protecting His Majesty,” Breton agreed, watching the mercenaries as they finished establishing the camp. When the Mithrian remained silent, he sighed. “It is the way of our people for the Rift King to protect himself and prove he is worthy of his rank. He has done well for himself.”

“That must change, if you want him to remain alive long enough to return to the Rift. In war, rules are seldom followed. The Covenant? It is a thing for rulers, not for warriors. Wars are not won and lost by papers on a desk, but on the battlefield. You will kill your king if you do not adapt for the realities of what is to come. Not even the Rift King can stop the war between Danar and Kelsh, though his efforts have been admirable. Too many want this war.”

The truth of the captain’s words stung, and Breton forced himself to nod his acknowledgment of the warning. “Perhaps that is why he has come. The sword speaks when the diplomacy of the quill fails.”

“And that is no fault of his. I respect his efforts. His predecessor was not nearly so determined. My opinion is that war would have happened long ago if it hadn’t been for his work and his support of the Covenant. But now that his words have failed, what will he do?”

Breton’s laugh was strained. “Whatever he wants, Captain Silvereye.”

“I will consider giving Delaven to you. But it seems fair to have you Rifters make it worth my while. How can this arrangement benefit me and my company?”

There were so many things Breton could say, but all of them hinged on one single thought. With a frown, Breton twisted in the saddle to face west. “I think that depends on how far we’re willing to bend the Covenant, Captain. It also depends on whether or not we can convince His Majesty to agree.” Shaking his head, he settled back in the saddle. “I never thought I’d have this conversation with anyone. The Covenant has been a sacred traditional among us.”

“It’s a prison for an entire people.
Your
people. Worse still, you allow it to cage you.” Captain Silvereye snorted, his expression twisting in a scowl. “I always wondered why you Rifters tolerate such a disgrace.”

Anger surged through Breton. He took several deep breaths before replying in as calm of a voice as he could manage, “Disgrace, Captain? Within our archives is a record of all of the Kingdoms since right after the Covenant’s formation, stretching back almost a thousand years. Within our archives are records of countless wars averted and lives spared because
we
used the diplomacy of the quill so others did not have to speak with their swords. Within our archives are records of alliances forged, inevitable wars, and the words of kings and queens otherwise lost to time. Our cage is our honor and our pride. Our cage is ruled by a man who isn’t afraid of the diplomacy of the sword.”