Suriax (5 page)

They sat in a small gazebo, Marcy quietly
waiting for him to speak. “I’m not a hundred twenty five years old.
I’m actually two hundred and thirty two.”

“You are a three quarters elf?” she guessed
from his ability to pass for much younger than his actual age.

“Yes.” My father was a half elf, but my
mother was a full elf.

“Why would you lie about such a thing?”

“I did so at my uncle’s instruction, though I
didn’t understand why until last night. He was trying to protect
me. There were people who would want me dead if they knew my
identity. The man I killed last night stole a locket that held a
portrait of my mother. If the wrong people saw it, my uncle and I
could both be in danger. I need to talk to some people who may be
able to help keep him safe. I just need you to keep an eye on him
until I can get him out of here.”

“Where are you going? If he is in danger,
shouldn’t you take him with you? What if someone comes after him
while you’re gone?”

“I’m going to Aleria. That’s where he’s from,
where my family is from. Where I need to go . . . it’s going to be
hard enough getting myself in. There’s no way I could get us both
in, and I don’t know what to expect or what kind of reception we
will receive. If things go badly there I don’t want him caught in
the middle of it. And I don’t want him to get his hopes up or get
his feelings hurt if things don’t work out as I hope. I know I
don’t have a lot of time to play around with. I just pray it’s
enough.”

“Why do I feel there is a lot you aren’t
telling me?”

He touched his hand to her face and smiled
wistfully. “You are the only person I trust telling even this much
to. Besides, if you knew any more it would put you at risk. If
anything happens use this ring to contact me.” He handed her a ring
from his bag, closing her fingers around it. “It has a
communication spell cast on it, part of a matching set. As long as
I have the other one, I’ll hear if you call me.”

“Where did you get these? They must have cost
a fortune.”

“It’s standard issue for the Guard. We use
them to report back when we’re on missions.”

“But what good will they do if you’re going
to be in Aleria? If I do get into trouble, you won’t be able to do
anything about it.”

Kern grinned and pulled out a scroll.
“Teleportation spell.” The Flame Guard had a fair access to spells
and magical items. Their organization began many years before the
establishment of Suriax as a group of assassins who were also
devout worshippers of Venerith. Needless to say, once they learned
of a place where killing was legal, founded on the teachings of
Venerith, Suriax quickly became their base of operations. Veritan
employed the Guard so often he was assigned a high ranking member,
Marianella Mareash, as his personal guard. The two married and bore
a daughter, Maerishka, the current queen of Suriax. The
relationship between the crown and the Flame Guard was cemented
with their union. An official honor guard for the royal family,
they also managed to maintain some independence to take on whatever
jobs they wished, as long as it didn’t interfere with their royal
duties. Members routinely disappeared on jobs. They also had the
freedom to refuse any assignment. It was never a good idea to send
an assassin on a job he didn’t want to be on. Nowadays, they were
divided into two groups, those in it for the job and those in it
for their god. The Cleric Guard designed all the spells and magical
items used by the rest of the group. Every member was completely
decked out. Of course they didn’t publicize that fact, or they
would constantly need to defend themselves from every two copper
thief wanting to make a silver. And those who didn’t want to rob
them would probably want to kill them out of fear for how powerful
they were.

Marcy hugged Kern tightly. “Be safe.”

“You, too.”

They stood and went their separate ways, both
having a job to do. Venerith willing, they would see each other
again.

* * *

Marcy cleaned up the dishes and looked over
her shoulder to the den. Frex was already dozing in his chair. He
stirred at a knock to the door. She felt her heart skip. There
weren’t many people who could be knocking. She was so distracted
with her own thoughts she didn’t notice Frex was no longer in his
chair until she heard him opening the door, letting in two Royal
Guards.

“Where is Kern Tygierrenon?” one of them
asked. The man was the taller of the two, and from the insignia on
his collar, she could tell he was the higher rank.

“He isn’t here,” Marcy answered, putting
herself between Frex and the men.

“Who are you?” the shorter man asked.

“A friend,” she tried to keep her voice calm.
“He had a job outside Suriax. I’m just helping out while he’s
gone.”

“Where exactly did he go?” the tall man asked
again.

“I don’t know,” she answered semi-honestly.
She knew he was in Aleria, but that was a large place. He could be
anywhere in the city. “He couldn’t discuss the details of the job.”
That was a plausible story. Flame Guardsmen were known for their
ability to keep a secret. It was a necessity in their line of
work.

“Okay, I believe you,” the taller guard said.
“Bring them with us.”

“Wait, why?” She sidestepped the other man as
he tried to grab her arm.

The officer turned back to her and smiled.
“If he is out on a job, he will return, and when he comes looking
for you both, it will lead him right to us. Problem solved.”

She didn’t know what to do. She had to
protect Frex, but he wasn’t safe either way. If she fought, he
could get hurt. If they went quietly, they could be tortured. If
she fought and didn’t escape, they could be killed. Of course, that
could happen no matter what she did. Her options weren’t looking
too good. The guard reached for her arm again and froze. His eyes
widened briefly before closing. With a grunt, he fell to the floor,
a pool of blood gathering around him. The taller guard turned, but
even he didn’t get his weapon pulled before falling lifeless to the
floor. Behind them stood a human male, dressed in blue and black.
His sword was covered in their blood. He reached his hand out, his
face changing from focused killer to kind friend in an instant.
“I’m Thomas.”

Chapter 3

Maerishka looked around anxiously. The ball
would begin soon, and Svanteese had not brought any word on the
uncle or the missing guard. The heat from the day was ebbing, but
the high humidity made the cooler temperature less than enjoyable.
Her gown hugged her uncomfortably, but she did not adjust it. A
queen did not adjust her garments in public.

“Her Royal Highness, Queen Maerishka,” The
announcer called.

“Long live the Queen,” rang out in the hall.
She took to the steps and made her grand entrance, not even
faltering when she caught sight of Svanteese from the corner of her
eye. Of course he would choose now to appear. Between the customary
introductions to the other distinguished guests and the several
requests she had to dance, it would be at least an hour before she
could slip away to talk to him in private.

Finally, taking advantage of a lag in
conversation with Lord Brenalain to excuse herself, she ducked into
a private chamber adjoining the hall and waited. Svanteese was
quick to follow. He approached her with a look of trepidation,
hesitant to speak. “Spit it out,” she ordered. “You’ve had plenty
of time to consider your wording.”

Knowing her temperament was not about to
improve, Svanteese spoke. “The uncle is gone and two guards are
dead. Reports from neighbors place a young elven woman at the scene
shortly before the guards went to the residence. From her
description, she is most likely Marcy Kentalee, a recorder who had
dealings with Kern Tygierrenon.”

“Double the guard around the palace, but do
it discretely. We don’t want to alarm our guests. And do a sweep of
all the homes. They must be hiding somewhere. Find them.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He bowed and exited
quickly. Maerishka returned to the ball, but her heart wasn’t in
it. Every servant caught her eye. She watched every stranger for
some hint of hostility. Anyone could be a threat. She had not felt
this paranoid since she first assumed the throne. Of course the
vast majority of those she suspected of treachery then were guilty,
so you could not actually call her fears and suspicions
paranoia.

“Your Highness,” Alvexton waited for her to
take his hand and led her to the dance floor. “I must say, so far I
am very impressed by Suriax.”

“I’m glad to hear it. We are honored to have
you here.” They settled into a comfortable dance, standing a little
closer to each other than was customary. She did not complain.

“I must ask, isn’t it difficult ruling over a
land with such unusual laws?”

Maerishka grinned. “Quite the contrary. It
actually makes my job much easier.”

“Really?” Alvexton asked, intrigued.

She nodded. “As you know, sometimes as a
ruler, you must do things that the general public would consider
questionable or immoral to protect your people and maintain order.
Here, I can do what needs to be done without having to hide or
justify my actions. Everything is strictly above board.”

“So, you have no secrets from your
people?”

Maerishka tried to maintain her smile. “I did
not say that. But everything I do is completely legal, so no one
could ever use my actions to unseat me or challenge my rule.”

“I see,” he looked off in thought. “Well,
Suriax is lucky to have you.”

They maintained small talk after that, not
leaving the dance floor until the music ended and the banquet
began. He smiled warmly when he realized they were to be seated by
one another. Unfortunately, Brenalain was seated to her other side,
so she found herself regaled by story after story from his homeland
throughout the dinner. She and Alvexton did not speak again until
the meal was over and all the other guests began filing out. “I had
a lovely evening.”

“As did I.” At least the day wasn’t a
complete loss, she thought to herself. But the time for relaxation
and enjoyment was over. She had matters to attend to. No one would
take her throne. Kern Tygierrenon would pay.

* * *

Kern considered his options for getting into
Aleria. Normally, there was no problem. Citizens traveled between
the two cities all the time, but if he crossed at a gate, he would
need to give his name, and they may have guards posted, looking for
him. Also, Aleria would be more discriminating on whom they let
enter the city this week, to avoid rowdy tourists. Aleria and
Suriax were separated by the Therion River. It was hundreds of feet
wide with only two bridges crossing it. On either bank stood a
wall, so even if he could manage to cross the river, he had to find
a way through, over or under the wall to actually get into the
city. The main bridge was found at the center, northern side of
Suriax. It was well guarded and the usual means of travel. The
second bridge was located at the northwest side of the city, in an
area known as Merchant’s Square. That route was even trickier.

Merchant’s Square was a common area of trade
and commerce that stretched into both cities. Aleria monitored and
policed the northern half, while Suriax took the southern half. The
bridge between the two halves was not as closely monitored. People
often traveled back and forth between the stores for shopping and
trade. But the square was surrounded by a heavy wall and gates.
Both cities tried to keep the activities of the square confined to
that area.

He could always take the long way and sneak
out of Suriax through one of the large exterior walls, then enter
Aleria through one of the main gates, but that would take time and
draw a lot of questions as to why a Suriaxian wouldn’t just come
through one of the Suriax gates. Looked like he would need to get
creative.

* * *

Laureen paid the fruit vendor and carried her
basket away, slowly pulling out the note hidden under the apples.
This was the only way to communicate without alerting anyone to her
actual allegiance. She felt for the usual seal, but it was not
there. This message was not from the queen. Confused, she read it.
The note warned of a rouge flame guardsman being sought by Queen
Maerishka. Word was he may be in Aleria. Details were sketchy, as
usual for this method of communication. It was signed with a simple
“F.G.” Another guardsman sent the note, meaning it was sent out of
professional courtesy, to warn her of potential trouble in her
current job. She considered the meaning. For the queen to search
after a guardsman to the degree that would warrant sending this
message, he must have some kind of information that was a threat.
That meant a better than average chance he would bring the
information to the Alerian monarchs to seek help or sanctuary. If
he posed a threat to the crown, it was her duty to stop him. If he
simply got on the queen’s bad side and wanted escape, she couldn’t
care less. As long as he didn’t cross her or expose her Suriaxian
origin, he could keep his life and his secrets. She tucked the note
into a pocket and brought the food to the palace kitchen.
Pretending to check the stew, she dropped the paper in the fire and
watched it burn.

* * *

Kern crashed through the roof, landing on the
floor of a small room. He really thought that branch would hold.
Closing his eyes, he took inventory of all his body parts. With the
way his head was throbbing, and the loud music playing in the next
room, it took some time. The beautiful bells melody of a music box
filled the air. Then the song ended, and he was left in silence. A
fast knock sounded at the door. Kern froze. “Coming.” An elderly
woman walked into the room and stopped, looking at Kern and up at
the hole in the ceiling.