A King's Caution (The Eternal War Book 2) Read online

  “Hello, boys,” a woman said behind them.

  Withdrawing his arms, Raimie reluctantly turned. The woman who’d addressed them giggled uncontrollably, a low, violent burble to set the tone. Black vines crawled under her skin.

  “Nessa, right?” Kheled asked, saber and long dagger at the ready. “Overseer for Teron.”

  “Oo! He knows me!” The woman’s eyes widened. “How delightful!”

  “What are you doing here?” Kheled asked. “Your Enforcer’s dead. No one holds your strings.”

  Her eyes flashed. “My purpose has transformed with my master’s death,” she spat. “I live to avenge him now.

  “You two must be the primeancer pair who killed him. You couldn’t have approached Da’kul and entered unseen unless it were so. If true, my dream is soon to be realized. Maybe with Teron avenged, his absence from my bed will stop aching so.”

  “Raimie,” Kheled commented, “I hope you’ve formulated a plan because if not, we’re thoroughly screwed.”

  “Plan all you want, so long as you accept your fates,” Nessa cackled as she waved.

  Kiraak emerged from the night. A foot scraped overhead, and Raimie looked up. More men and women manned the wall, bows loosely held ready for the draw.

  “Picks,” Raimie demanded, hand expectantly extended.

  “What?”

  “Give me the lock picks,” he clarified.

  “Why? You don’t know how to-”

  “Trust me, Khel.”

  Planting his saber in the dirt, his friend retrieved the requested items from his cloak before tossing them to Raimie. Nessa watched the exchange with curiosity.

  “What on earth do you think you can do with those?” she asked. “You won’t have time to use them before you die.”

  Raimie ignored her. “How long will I have?”

  “A minute?” Kheled answered under his breath. “Maybe more if we’re lucky. She’s got thirty, maybe forty Kiraak. I can distract and amuse for a time, but I'm only one man, Raimie.”

  “Do what you can.”

  “I grow tired of this!” Nessa waved once more. “Kill them!”

  Reaching around the metal bars, Raimie closed his eyes, doing his best to block clashing steel and screams. In his mind’s eye, he arranged instructions he’d accumulated from books alongside the picture of Kheled deftly defeating the warehouse’s lock.

  Insert picks. Set each pin. One… two… thr-

  An arrow whistled past Raimie’s ear, and he nearly lost tension, destroying his progress. Shake it off.

  Three… four……… Where was the fifth? There were supposed to be-

  Raimie shook his head at his stupidity. Just because most locks contained five pins didn't mean this one did. He shifted the picks to the right, turning the lock, and it dropped into dirt. Hastily unwrapping the chain, he flung the gate wide.

  “Let’s go, Khel!”

  Silverblade in hand, he helped his friend retreat. Once the narrow opening slowed the Kiraak’s progress, they turned and ran, Ele assisting their flight. Their howling enemy quickly fell behind. Raimie and Kheled took turns blasting light into the night sky until a charging army’s roar answered them. At the sight of the approaching men and women, they broke from their sprint, eagerly gulping air to calm racing hearts. Their Kiraak pursuers would soon catch up, but when they did, Raimie and Kheled wouldn’t be alone.

  “That… was close…” Raimie gasped between his knees.

  “When did… you learn to… pick locks?” Kheled asked.

  “I’ve been… busy… in Tiro,” Raimie murmured. “Everyone wants my… attention… but I make sure… to save time for my-”

  A wheezing cough interrupted his explanation. Immediately, he brandished Silverblade, scanning for enemies, but what captured his focus was his friend.

  A bloody arrowhead emerged from Kheled’s neck, the sharp edge digging a red furrow under his chin. Light fled his eyes, and his body folded on itself. Nessa’s distinctively high-pitched cackle pierced the night, a triumphant warble which quickly cut off.

  In the past, Raimie would have been incoherent with shock and grief at this change in fortune. He’d have been so frantic the overwhelming emotion would have gotten him killed.

  Now, he dropped to his belly, but it was simply from the necessity to make a smaller target. Crawling to his friend, he rolled Kheled’s body until it lay on its side. Momentarily courting danger, he poked his head over to snap the bolt’s fletching. As he tugged the shaft through skin and tissue, he gagged at liquid suck and pop. Tossing the projectile to the side, he waited. Soon enough, Ele would blaze, his friend would shoot upright, and they’d pretend this had never happened.

  After several tense moments, however, the panic from weeks before began to invade again.

  “Get up, Khel!” Raimie growled, shaking his friend. “Our allies will join us soon. Don't make me explain why my dead friend walks and talks.”

  He nervously shot a look over his shoulder where armored soldiers had begun climbing the hill. It wouldn’t be long now.

  When he shook Kheled with genuine urgency this time, movement caught his eye, and Raimie rolled to the side. A sword stabbed the ground where he’d lain. For a moment, gravity lost its hold on his body. Raimie was on his feet the instant steel met earth. He barely registered Nessa standing over his friend before ducking. The bolt from her tiny crossbow whistled harmlessly down the hill.

  “Huh.” She cocked her head. “I thought for sure the Eselan would be harder to kill than you.”

  “Oh, trust me. He is.”

  She kicked Kheled’s motionless body. “Looks pretty dead to me.”

  Raimie shrugged. The woman erratically lifted her sidearm and squeezed the trigger. Silverblade batted the bolt down.

  “See what I mean?” Nessa asked. “Much harder to kill. Take the compliment, boy!”

  White light briefly lit the night, Nessa turned with surprise capturing her features, and Kheled sprang to his knees with a gasp. His hands immediately clawed at his throat.

  “It’s gone.” Surprise transformed his face into wonder. “Thank you, Raimie.” He climbed to his feet with a groan. “Gods, that’s what? Three times in three months? Once the deaths start, they don’t let up, do they?”

  “You’re right on time, Khel,” Raimie chuckled. “Not only are the men almost here, but I was in the midst of a conversation with Nessa concerning which of us would be harder to kill.”

  “Truly? Who did she choose?”

  “Who do you think?” Raimie smirked. “And she’s right. I’m harder to kill, but keeping you dead is close to impossible.”

  “Hmmm,” Kheled grumbled, “maybe. Let’s see what she says now.”

  “Indeed. What do you think?”

  They turned curious eyes to the woman in question.

  “Nessa?” both asked in tandem to the space she’d occupied mere moments before.

  “Where did she go?” Raimie asked. “I thought her cocky enough to stay even with your return from the grave.”

  “She did seem that way, but… That’s right!” Kheled exclaimed with a finger snap. “I’d forgotten Doldimar’s warned his minions about me this time. She’s smart. She ran.”

  “That’s…. not good. I know Doldimar will quickly discover we’ve taken his fort on the Outskirts, but I’d like the news to be long delayed. Nessa will go straight to him.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll find her,” Kheled assured him. “You focus on securing Da’kul.”

  The first of the soldiers sprinted by to clash with the Kiraak who’d followed their Overseer outside Da’kul’s wall. Still more advanced on the opened gate, trusting their comrades to eliminate the threat left in their wake.

  “Sir,” a quiet voice spoke to Raimie’s left, “the men will need you with them. Let your friend handle the chore as he’s offered.”

  “I planned to, Oswin,” Raimie huffed. “I was about to thank Kheled for volunteering before sending him on his way. I’v
e learned a little from your guidance in the last few months. No need to keep hammering the lessons in.”

  Chuckling under his breath, Kheled gave a loose salute before commencing with his task. Oswin stayed beside Raimie sans reply while the forest vanished the Eselan.

  “Took you long enough,” Raimie teased, gaze still fixed on the trees. “An Overseer nearly shot me in the face.”

  “You look quite lively considering, sir. Besides, you’re the one who insisted I couldn’t follow.”

  Raimie winced. What an insolent tone! Oswin must be severely miffed with him, but he supposed he should have expected the spy’s irk. Over the winter months, Oswin had become spoiled by his charge’s docile behavior. Raimie had made very few attempts to escape from his bodyguard’s presence, even during moments he’d have much preferred remain private. With the resumption of the campaign against Doldimar, the spy would need to readapt to Raimie’s proclivity for throwing himself into danger if he wanted to save himself from headaches.

  “Calm down! I jest!” Raimie exclaimed.

  “We should be going, sir,” Oswin replied.

  The spy’s hurt feelings must wait to be soothed. The first batch of soldiers attempted ingress to Da’kul through the fortress’s single gate. Raimie itched to be there, to shield his family from harm.

  “You’re correct, as usual, Oswin. Let’s finish capturing an enemy fort.”

  Chapter Two

  My Darling,

  I write to you from Auden, the last stop on my tour of the human kingdoms. I’ve dispensed the Council’s greetings and tribute while completing the favor you asked of me.

  I’m sorry to say I believe your fears may prove true, my love. The humans have grown soft and lazy, content in their domination over us and the continent. While this may have given me nothing but joy in the past, fear threatens to drown me after your foretelling’s revelation.

  Kheled’s prey was proving much harder to track than the Kiraak who’d led him to Da’kul. Nessa had left few signs of her passing. The occasional broken twig or crushed leaf were the only evidence someone had recently disturbed the forest’s sanctity.

  Unfortunately for Nessa, Kheled had countless years practice with tracking. Even the minor signs she’d unintentionally left were enough to keep him on her trail.

  The woman must have realized this because the chase quickly ended. She waited for him, weapons at the ready, in a break in the tree trunks. Moonlight diffusely filtered through the dense ceiling of leaves overhead, creating pockets of light and shadow.

  That infernal crossbow of hers twanged, and Kheled dove to the side. He warily circled her.

  “Why do you avoid the bolt?” she asked. “It would never harm you, and capturing me would certainly prove easier if you didn’t evade them.”

  “Maybe,” Kheled agreed, “but it would hurt.”

  “Still more reason not to dodge.” She followed Kheled while he circled, her feet crunching fallen leaves. “Will you kill me?” she asked, voice quavering.

  “I wasn’t planning to,” Kheled answered. “We could learn much from you.”

  “You expect me to betray my Dark Lord?” she scoffed. “Perhaps it is better if you kill me now.”

  “If you say so.”

  Snarling, she rushed him with weapon raised, but Kheled had no intention of fighting her. He shot an Ele thread into her eye sockets.

  “Sleep.”

  Nessa’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she dropped to the forest floor.

  Using Ele in this way was certainly efficient at times such as this, but Kheled was loath to abuse the ability. Flinging a bolt was much less taxing than triggering sleep, and recently, he did everything he could to conserve power. He’d never felt weaker than he had during this cycle. Any large expenditure of Ele, such as what he’d done during the beach battle, drained him in a way nothing in millennia had. Not to mention he could only send so many enemies into unconsciousness before he lost control of the Ele keeping them asleep.

  Moonbeams played over Nessa as a breeze swayed tree branches overhead. The black lines writhing under her forehead, her cheeks, her palms, triggered a deep revulsion in Kheled, a disgust which wanted nothing more than to remove the blemish on the forest floor. He lifted his saber over his head and drove it down on her neck. The blade stopped short of separating her head from her shoulders.

  He shuddered with indecision. Every part of him connected to Ele longed to eliminate the enemy, but Kheled knew she needed to live. Not only would her interrogation provide valuable intelligence for their war effort, but the chance existed Corruption could be cleansed from her system, even if he'd no idea how such a feat could be accomplished.

  Sheathing his weapons was the hardest thing he’d done in weeks. Their steel weighed his arms down like stone, and his muscles reluctantly complied with instructions.

  “What are you doing?” Creation asked. “Kill her!”

  “Shut it, nuisance. I need her alive for now.”

  The splinter quietly screamed, and Kheled smiled at his irritation.

  “Leaving her alive is a bad idea,” Creation muttered under his breath. “What happens when she wakes? What if you’re not there to contain her?”

  The splinter continued to voice doubts, but Kheled ignored him. Unless Creation overruled his decision, he’d bring Nessa to Raimie.

  He flipped her body over his shoulder, skin prickling with unease at the close contact. Every brush of Corruption sent waves of nausea crashing over him. The woman’s weight dragged on his shoulders, exacerbated by her armor and the slew of weapons hanging from it. Before long, he gasped from exertion, his stomach edging ever closer to open rebellion. Eventually, it became too much, and he stopped for a brief break.

  Slumping against a tree, he slid to the grass, gleefully enjoying the feel of a breeze against his skin. One day back into the fight and already, it had proved more complicated than he’d hoped. Closing that tear…

  After Allanovian, Kheled had planned to keep Raimie from repeating his actions beneath the mountain, but after experiencing his friend’s pain following this tear’s closure, he was doubly determined it would never happen again. The wrenching rip of his soul… Is that what his friend felt every time he used the combined energy he created? How badly had what he’d done this night hurt him?

  “What happens to Raimie when he closes a tear?” Kheled asked in a mumble.

  Abruptly, Creation crashed to the ground before him. The splinter’s guise had cracked again, shattered pieces of skin and clothing allowing Ele lying beneath to shine through.

  “How should I know?” he complained. “Raimie’s an anomaly which only come around once an eternity. In small ways, he’s displayed tendencies similar to Alouin, but Alouin never tried to close the reality breaks he opened. I’ve no idea what price your friend pays for his actions.”

  “Helpful, Creation…”

  “What else do you want me to say?” Creation asked. “I tell you what I know.”

  “Why don’t you speculate?” Kheled murmured, closing his eyes and leaning his head against a tree trunk.

  Only silence greeted his request, and when he cracked one eye at the splinter, Creation had disappeared. Godsdamn it, the annoyance was probably keeping something from him again. Kheled had thought Creation had learned how poor a decision doing so was by now. Apparently, he’d been wrong.

  For a time, Kheled let worry drift away, worry over Creation’s omission but mostly over Raimie, and reached for a state of simple being, of mindless existence. As soon as his stomach settled, however, he was off once more.

  When the trees broke and Da’kul loomed ahead, Kheled relaxed. He dumped Nessa’s body near the clearing where Raimie’s men had awaited the signal to attack. Before trotting up the hill, he double checked Ele held the Overseer in its grasp, reinforcing the directive which kept her asleep.

  By the time he strode through the fortress’s gate again, the chaos of battle had receded. Bodies littered the
bailey, most missing heads, but a small number wore the Audish army’s new uniform under their armor. A group of surviving soldiers prepared to break through the door of a building at the tower’s base. Kheled wandered toward them, intent on inquiring after Raimie.

  “What’s going on?” he asked as he joined them.

  “The fort’s free of the enemy except for those hiding inside. Once we clear them, Da’kul will be unequivocally ours.”

  Kheled hummed. He more closely examined the edifice under discussion, and yes, it was the one whose lock he’d earlier broken.

  “Your friends are aware this building’s an armory, yes?” he asked. “Clearing it won’t be easy. They’ll pick you off, one by one, as you enter.”

  The soldier eyed him, gaze dancing over his Eselan features and lack of uniform. “We don’t exactly have another option.”

  “Sure, you do!” Kheled smiled. “Let me pass.”

  He pushed through a veritable wall of men blocking access to the door, panting once he’d gotten through. When he reached for the knob, however, a grizzled officer clutched Kheled’s shoulder.

  “Can’t let you go in there, son.”

  Son. When was the last time someone had called him that?

  “I know how to pacify the Kiraak on the other side of this door,” Kheled explained. “What’s the worst that could happen if you let me go first? They kill an arrogant Eselan before you take a crack at them. On the other hand, no one else dies if my idea works.”

  “I can’t allow a civilian-”

  “I haven’t been a civilian for years, sir. I simply don’t fall within this army’s command structure,” Kheled stated.

  Giving him a baffled look, the officer opened his mouth to reply.

  “Let him do it, sergeant,” another, younger soldier piped up. “He’s the one who took the brunt of the attack for my friends and I on the beach. I’m sure he can handle a handful of Kiraak by himself.”