Suriax (17 page)

“I don’t want your throne,” he repeated
softly. “I don’t want to rule. I just want to be left alone.”

She looked at him indecisively. “How can I
possibly believe you? Perhaps you are just buying time until you
can master your fire ability.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” he threw his
hands up in frustration. It seemed none of his estranged siblings
felt they could trust him. “I didn’t even want this fire curse or
blessing or whatever it was you called down on all of us. I just
want to be me, not some ruler and not some pawn of a god I don’t
even believe in anymore. I want no part of Suriax or Venerith. I
would give it all up and never look back. I swear that to you and
to the universe. Do you hear that, Venerith?” he called up to the
heavens. “I forsake you and your gifts.” Pain surged through his
body. His soul burned, and he thought he would finally die. He
thought there was no one other than perhaps his uncle who would
care. Maybe it was for the best. The back of his neck, where the
flame mark could be found, flared hot enough to be felt over the
other pain. Flames shot out of his pores, creating a funnel of heat
and fire around him. His clothing burned, the edges coming off as
ash, drifting away a few inches before disintegrating from the
heat. In a violent rush that left him cold and without air, the
flames shot up to the sky. As the pain subsided, he found himself
on his hands and knees, struggling to breathe.

Maerishka’s face broke into a grin. She
called the flames back to her hand and took a step forward. He
watched, unable to move or talk. She raised her hand, but before
she could deliver her final blow, an arrow flew within a hair’s
distance of her hand.

“That was a warning.” Mirerien stepped out
onto the street.

“You have no jurisdiction here,” Maerishka
complained. “This is none of your business, unless you are calling
for an end to the treaty, for war between us.” Her eyes flared with
brief sparks of madness. Kern could almost believe she wanted
war.

“I disagree.”

“He is a citizen of Suriax, and therefore
under my jurisdiction.”

“He gave up his citizenship. As leader of
Aleria, I hereby grant Kern Tygierrenon Alerian citizenship. As
such, he is under our protection. You cannot touch him. Step back,
or I will defend him with extreme prejudice.” She punctuated her
warning by pulling back another arrow to the ready. They stared at
each other for several moments. Kern thought she would chance an
attack when Pielere and Eirae stepped out of the shadows, swords
drawn, standing on either side of their sister. Knowing she was
outmatched, Maerishka lowered her hand.

Chapter 8

The smell of burnt flesh and blood filled the
air. The Tournament of Fire was always violent, but it finally
lived up to its name. They would need to seriously consider new
rules for the next tournament, if they hoped to have any survivors
. . . or participants. The wind shifted and smoke from a smoldering
corpse blew in her face. They had to move the remainder of this
year’s tournament outside to accommodate the new abilities of the
Suriaxian fighters. It became apparent after the third time the
stadium tree caught fire that it would not be a suitable location
for the fights. “Svanteese,” Maerishka called. “Have the clerics
work on fire protection spells to infuse with the tree before the
next tournament. Also ask them about the feasibility for doing the
same to the other buildings in town.” With fires breaking out
daily, it was difficult for people to get any work done, although
it was getting better. “Oh, and bring the Tournament Champion to
me.”

Maerishka went to her receiving chambers and
removed her gloves, flexing her fingers in satisfaction. The
clerics designed the gloves to allow her to touch others without
accidentally killing them. She had a great deal more control, now,
but occasionally she got carried away and forgot herself. Even
through the gloves others could feel her heat, but it was
muted.

Svanteese led the champion, Zanden Fiereskai,
into her chamber and left. Pouring herself a drink, she waited
several moments before acknowledging him. Taking the time to finish
her drink, she turned at last to face him. He stood, without a hint
of impatience, still in the same spot Svanteese left him. Still
covered with blood and dirt from the final match, he was breathing
hard, but he did not let any hint of his fatigue or any pain mar
his stance. He stood at full attention, simply waiting for her to
speak. “You did well today,” she said at last.

“Thank you, Your Highness, but there were
quite a few days I ‘did well,’” he replied without a hint of
conceit.

Walking up behind him, she placed a hand on
his shoulder, waiting for his reaction. She was not disappointed.
Under her fingers, his skin began to turn pink and blister. He did
not flinch. She poured on the heat. Still, he did not move.
Satisfied with his response, she removed her hand. Maerishka
grinned. He was confident and not intimidated by her in the least.
“Of all the contestants, you had the greatest mastery of your new
abilities, though you refused to use them on any
non-Suriaxian.”

“I wanted to beat my opponents fairly. To use
the fire on an opponent who couldn’t use it back would have
amounted to using a weapon against an unarmed man. That wouldn’t
have proven anything.”

“Well, you certainly proved yourself. You
showed an uncanny ability to read your enemy and judge how best to
exploit his weaknesses within the first thirty seconds of every
fight. Are you disappointed you didn’t get to finish your match
with Sardon?”

“He is a good opponent. I hope to get the
opportunity to fight him again some day,” he answered
diplomatically.

“What would you say to working with him?”

“Your Highness?” The first hint of emotion
entered his expression. His eyes were hopeful and confused.

“I find myself in need of someone with your
particular skill set to train members of the Royal Guard and
military. There are some who still find it difficult to master
their fire abilities and could use extra guidance. I would also
like you to develop new battle strategies to integrate these
skills, particularly in group settings.”

“You want our guys to be able to fight an
enemy without burning all our own soldiers in the process.”

“Precisely. I realize developing new fighting
techniques is much easier if you have someone to work with. I would
like you to work with Sardon for this purpose. Of course I would
prefer if you two could refrain from actually killing one another,
but despite that restriction I imagine the sparing required for
this task should prove enjoyable to the two of you.”

Zanden grinned. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Good, I want weekly updates of your
progress. You may go.”

He bowed and left. Maerishka walked to her
private chambers. She checked to see her bath was drawn and began
to disrobe, dropping her gloves on top of the dress at her feet.
She twirled her hair around and stuck a pin through it to keep it
up at the back of her head. Stepping into the bath, she enjoyed the
cool water the few seconds before it began to boil. Steam rose off
the surface, filling the bathroom in seconds. She rested her head
on the back of the tub and closed her eyes. It had been almost four
months since she saw her brother. So far, he made good with his
promise to leave her and Suriax alone, but she couldn’t help
thinking he could come back at any time and challenge her rule. Up
until now she had the tournament to distract her, but that was
over. She needed to focus on the future of Suriax.

“Oh, good, you’re back.” Alvexton came by the
side of the tub and bent down, kissing her passionately. Even that
simple contact left his skin flushed. He took fire resistance
potions daily just to be with her. He didn’t seem to mind. Theirs’
was a mutually beneficial relationship. Once they married in a few
months, she would quadruple her area of rule. Finally, her kingdom
would rival Aleria’s kingdom in size. And since he was human, she
would only have to put up with him for fifty years, tops. As far as
he was concerned he would get a wife who would always be young.
Alvexton would also benefit from her military and Suriax’s
reputation. The southern plains were often plagued by raiders.
Recently, the attacks grew worse, whole villages wiped out with no
explanation. Once Zanden created some viable battle strategies, she
planned to send out a cinder unit to investigate. It would also
give her people some good real world experience to test out his
techniques and work out any problems. “I heard you were challenged
again.”

“That was hardly a challenge,” she scoffed.
“He was just some common street criminal who let a little power go
to his head and thought he could actually take me on. It was barely
worth the effort to kill him.”

“Still, he is not the first. Such constant
challenges are not good. As weak as they are in comparison to you,
eventually one may catch you off guard. Besides, the uncertainty
challenges generate could hurt your authority.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I don’t know. Make a law prohibiting them.
Your people are all about laws.”

She shook her head. “No, the people would
never accept such a blanket declaration, but you may be on to
something. I could design a law that structures the challenges, a
list of criteria that must be met first.” This could be the answer
she needed. Kern had yet to make a move for her throne, but that
could always change. Instituting a law to prohibit random
challenges would not stop everyone, but it would help. “I knew I
kept you around for some reason.” She leaned out of the water and
kissed him. Steam came off his face where her fingers touched it.
“Care for a hot bath?”

Alvexton chuckled. “Darling, with you, that’s
the only kind there is.”

* * *

“You win again.” Kern cleared the game board
and reset the pieces.

“Would you like to play another game?” Frex
beamed excitedly.

“Sure.” Kern smiled. His uncle looked fifty
years younger. Whether it was spending time with his grand nieces
and nephews, no longer having the stress of all his secrets resting
on his soul or some strange side effect of being near Kern’s
siblings, he didn’t know. Kern felt it too, to a certain degree.
The longer he spent with them, the less he wanted to leave. For
what it was worth, they seemed to like having him around. Mirerien
invited him to spar with her a few times a week. She taught him to
shoot a bow, and he taught her some of the subtler self defense
techniques he learned in the Guard. Pielere spent time with him and
Frex, just doing normal things. They fished, did some sight seeing,
showing Kern around Aleria and taking Frex to places from his
youth. Even Eirae was warming up to him. He gave Kern periodic
updates from Suriax. Through interrogations and other information
gathering, Eirae knew a lot of the goings on, and he wasn’t afraid
to talk to Kern about it. It was through him they got updates on
Marcy’s brother, and for the past three months he snuck them an
enchanted orb he used for spying so he, Marcy, Frex and Thomas
could watch the tournament. He was the only one who didn’t shy away
from mentioning Suriax or expect them to forget where they came
from.

They played a few more games, and then Frex
got up to get more sweet rolls. Kern watched him talk to the baker,
Elisteen while her grandson Alnerand put bread in the oven. This
was one of their frequent stops when they went on their walks with
Pielere. Frex and Elisteen hit it off immediately sharing stories
from Aleria’s past. They talked often of King Emerien, how he was
loved, how peaceful his reign was, and though Kern never met his
grandfather, he felt some pride at being related to such an
incredible man. Knowing they would be awhile, he walked over to
talk to Alnerand. The boy was also much happier than when they met.
Pielere put an end to their landlord’s coercion. After a month of
intense scrutiny and a substantial number of fines for ethics
violations, Grieland sold his interests in his properties to a more
honest landlord. All the residents signed fair lease agreements and
were no longer forced into side jobs to keep their homes. With the
money they received from Pielere, Elisteen was able to put in new
oven and a storage room to keep her supplies at the back of the
building. She could now reach her pans and materials without
climbing on a ladder.

Kern made small talk, but his heart wasn’t in
it. Things were good, but he felt something was missing. He didn’t
have anything that drove him, a reason to exist. Elisteen and
Alnerand had the bakery. He could see how much it meant to them
both to be there, doing what they loved. His siblings had their
work, and it meant everything to them. They made a real difference
in people’s lives. Marcy and Thomas felt some of his frustration
and uncertainty. Their lives were just as jumbled as his, but they
had their new relationship to distract them and make each day
exciting. He had nothing and no one to call his own. Surrounded by
family and friends, he felt alone.

The door opened, letting in a rush of cool
air. In a couple of months it would be winter. “You aren’t going to
believe this.” Eirae came in and dropped a letter in front of Kern.
“You really got to her.”

“Who?” Kern picked up the letter and read.
“Suriaxian decree governing all challenges for the throne: Anyone
wishing to take the throne of Suriax must travel to the Cliffs of
Myremax to obtain one of the luminescent blood crystals found on
the underside of the cliffs. Anyone bringing a blood crystal back
to Suriax may challenge the current ruler to a dual of hand to hand
combat. Fire is the only weapon allowed. The winner is to be
determined by death or forfeit.” The Cliffs of Myremax were home to
several predatory animals. Although the crystals were beautiful and
highly prized, getting them was a dangerous and often deadly task.
The crystals got their name from the large quantity of blood
spilled by thrill seekers and treasure hunters attempting to get
one. Getting to the cliffs was also a long journey. Kern shook his
head and put down the letter. “If she was really that worried about
me, she could just have me killed in some ‘accident.’”