Alliance of Serpents (15 page)

Arus held up his hands and shook his head.
"No, Muert. We do not have your family here. I was merely asking if
they would be your reason for returning."

"One day you will understand," he said, his
eyes becoming distant. "They are everything to me. I need nothing
more than the companionship of my Sienna and Keilan."

Kitreena gave Damien a puzzled look before
continuing. "Are you aware of what Truce has the Kyrosen doing
now?"

"I only know that we were ordered to return
to the desert if the mission were to fail," he answered, sinking
back onto his bed. "Why, what has he done now?"

Damien looked to be searching for a way to
deliver the news softly, but Arus wasn't going to cushion the
actions of that lunatic. "He's made a deal with Kindel Thorus. They
have allied to come after me for the implant. Supposedly, the
agreement is that Kindel will get the implant in exchange for some
ships so that the Kyrosen can return to space."

"A return to the stars," Muert said in a
thoughtful tone. "It has been the dream of many since the day we
first landed on Terranias. But can such a thing be worth handing
ourselves over to our greatest enemy? Kindel will—" He cut himself
off and his eyes went wide. "Sienna and Keilan! They'll be in
Kindel's custody! I cannot allow that! Please, you must stop this
from happening!"

"We're in no position to interfere," Damien
said, holding up his hands.

Kitreena's wry smile drove her words home.
"Especially on behalf of a Kyrosen."

But Muert ignored the both of them, falling
on his knees as he clutched the prison bars. His pleading eyes were
locked on Arus. "You are a noble warrior, a young man who knows
right from wrong and puts the safety of others ahead of his own.
You
must
help them! If you will not release me, then you
must act in my stead!"

Arus stepped back, shaking his head. "Believe
me, I would love to help you, but it just isn't possible right now.
I'm exactly who they're looking for! If they got control of the
implant, I could be used as Truce's weapon to exterminate anyone he
wants."

"Not only that," Damien continued, "but we
are vastly outnumbered by the Armada. We're lucky they haven't come
after us as it is."

"Please, you've got to do something!" Muert
insisted. "If anything happens to them, I'll have nothing left to
live for." It wrenched Arus' heart to see such a strong warrior
reduced to begging.

"If an opportunity presents itself in which
we can recover your family members, we will," Damien said, trying
to calm the Mage. "But we cannot go out on some rescue mission on
behalf of a Kyrosen prisoner. Now, we have a few questions we'd
like you to answer. You can cooperate, or—"

"I'll answer nothing!" Muert growled,
returning to his feet. "You give me no reason to assist you!"

"Listen, you overgrown oaf!" Kitreena
shouted, stepping toward the cell. "I don't care how big you are!
You're going to help us out, or I'll—" Arus' hand on her shoulder
cut her off and earned him an angry glare.

"Don't press him," he told her. "I know he is
a Kyrosen, but I believe him to be a man of honor. Given time, I
think he'll calm down."

Damien nodded and started down the hall.
"Agreed. And I think he's already shown that he knows little more
than Nevin about Truce's plans. I had hoped that Sartan would at
least consult
some
of his men before making such a decision,
but apparently the Kyrosen are kept in the dark until after his
wheels are already in motion. There is little more we can learn
here, it seems."

Kitreena made her frustration visibly clear
in her demeanor, but she followed Damien without another word. Arus
moved to do the same, but Muert's voice stopped him. "You are not
to blame, I know," he muttered. "And I apologize for my outburst. I
simply do not know what to do. Truce's actions worry me; I cannot
help but wonder if he is following the same path as his father. I
am torn between my loyalty to the Kyrosen and the welfare of my
family. Sienna and Keilan are everything to me. I'd never willingly
put them in harms way, even for my people."

Arus didn't know what to say. A part of him
wanted to venture out and find Muert's family for him, but he was
not skilled enough to pilot a starfighter against an enemy fleet,
and he was certainly not prepared to battle an entire army on his
own. "I'd like to help you, Muert. But it's simply not possible at
the moment. Don't worry. As long as I'm safe here, Kindel needs the
Kyrosen's help. He won't harm them until he has what he wants."

"I pray the Maker that you're right, my
friend. Thank you for your understanding." He stood and bowed
formally. "Perhaps one day we will be able to truly test our skills
against one another in the ring."

"I look forward to it," Arus replied with a
smile. "I need all the training I can get."

"You are a talented swordsman. I have no
doubt that you will one day exact revenge on Truce for what he's
done."

"Thank you, but I no longer seek revenge. The
path of vengeance leads only to the grave. My master taught me
that."

Muert tilted his head, clearly surprised that
Arus wouldn't want to settle the score. "You don't seek justice for
the damage he's done to you? Your life has been forever changed by
his actions, and you're willing to forgive that?"

"Truce is a criminal that must be stopped.
That I don't argue," Arus said through a grin. "But I will not
allow vengeance to fuel my actions. I will give him a chance to
change his ways, and I will work to prevent him from committing
further crimes, but I will not murder any man simply to satisfy a
lust for revenge. I succumbed to that urge once, and it saw me
enslaved to Truce. I refuse to make that selfish mistake
again."

"You are wise beyond your years, young one,"
Muert said, bowing again. "I myself could stand to learn a lot from
you. I hope one day to be half the man that you already are."

Arus smiled warmly and waved a dismissive
hand. "I appreciate it, but you should save your praise for a man
who deserves it. I'm simply trying to do what I believe is
right."

"In this universe, the number of people who
go out of their way to do the right thing is dwindling quickly. You
are a star amid darkness, Arus. May that star shine for all
eternity."

He didn't want to be rude, but Arus couldn't
take any more of the Mage's unjustified praise. He was no hero and
certainly was not deserving of such words. But rather than argue
the point further, he simply bowed with an appreciative smile.
"I'll speak with Damien and make sure you get a good lunch sent
down today."

"I would be most grateful. Thank you,
Arus."

It was a comfort to be serenaded by the
twittering birds of Keroko when Vultrel awoke. He had been too long
away from home, and even longer away from his bed. The sweet smell
of moist flowers hung in the humid air, disturbed only by an
occasional breeze that was too warm for comfort. It was the hottest
part of the summer, which was also usually the driest for Keroko,
and to that end, rain had been more than scarce. Not that it was a
big surprise or problem; the wells were still plenty full and the
village stockpiles had been untouched thus far. The weather was
typical for summer, and if anything, it made Vultrel that much more
happy to be home.

He rolled out of bed and rubbed his eyes
before heading toward the wash basin. The lingering effects of the
previous night were still obvious in his face. The mirror just
above his bureau reflected his red-rimmed eyes along with the
blotches of red on his cheeks. That he was even awake before midday
was a miracle considering that he and his mother had been up until
nearly sunup reminiscing about Eaisan and the many memories he'd
left behind, both good and bad. It had been a night of tears and
laughs, and for Vultrel, it was good to finally be able to talk
about the pain he'd bottled up inside. As for Arus' mother, she'd
taken the news about as well as anyone could after being told their
son had been killed in a battle he never should've been a part of
in the first place. Veran had spent a considerable amount of time
consoling Elayna, but Mrs. Sheeth had insisted she was strong
enough to walk home on her own. Even so, Vultrel had shadowed her
just to be sure.

With a yawn, he splashed his face with soap
and water. Telling her that Arus had died had been one of the
hardest things he'd ever had to do, but it was a necessity. It
would be better for her to know the truth now rather than live with
a false hope that he may one day return. That very thought brought
tears back to his own eyes once more—his best friend of fourteen
years, gone!—but he forced them down with a solid determination
that he would not allow his feelings to dwell on what was past. He
would take the lessons he learned and go forward with a new outlook
and a new goal. What happened to Arus could've been prevented if
Arus had been stronger. Truth be told, Vultrel wasn't sure even
he
possessed the strength that he wished Arus had. But
either way, to destroy threats like the Vermilion Mages or the
Kyrosen or whatever they wanted to be called, strength was key, and
Arus demonstrated clearly that more would be needed against Truce
and his army of heartless thugs. Going forward, strength would be
Vultrel's only objective, because without it, he would be as
helpless as Arus was. If only they'd known Anton's true strength.
If only they'd learned from him . . .

But that was all over with and a part of the
past. It was a new day, and Vultrel intended to start fresh with a
positive outlook and a clean slate. He washed quickly—there was no
telling how late it was already—and threw on a new pair of black
pants and a sleeveless black tunic. His mother came into his room
as he was pulling on his boots, her eyes sharing the redness that
had outlined his own. "Where are you off to, Vultrel?" Her voice
was blatantly casual. She didn't want him going anywhere
considering what had happened, but he wasn't a child anymore, and
he wasn't going to let anyone stand in the way of his duty.

"I've got to talk to Ben Mantes," he told
her. With all that had gone on the previous night, he'd never
gotten around to telling her his plans to rebuild the Keroko
Militia and exterminate the Mages. "He's a smart man, and I think—"
He stopped when he noticed her dark eyes tilting to the side,
considering him, weighing him. Did she not think he could handle
his responsibility to the Lurei household? To Keroko? "He knew
Father well. I'd like to talk to him about a few things. That's
all." If she didn't think he could carry the weight of Eaisan's
duties on his shoulders, then it would be better for her not to
learn of his intentions until he was already doing so.

"Oh . . . all right," she murmured, watching
him strap his scabbard to his back. "Just be careful, all right?
Things have gotten more dangerous out there since the resurgence of
the Mages, and I don't want you running headlong into trouble
anymore. Do you hear me, Vultrel?" Usually, Veran Lurei was the
epitome of strength and confidence, solid under even the heaviest
pressure and confident even when the odds favored failure. But now,
she was clearly broken; a woman stunned by the harsh reality of the
world and afraid to step foot back into it. Vultrel never knew how
much of her own strength she'd drawn from Eaisan, much as he had.
In time, he'd learn to find that strength in himself, and she'd be
able to draw it from him. But for now, like him, she would have to
find her own way.

"Do not worry, Mother," Vultrel assured her
with a hug. "Father's body may be gone, but he will continue to
protect this village long after you and I have both passed from
this world."

She returned the hug and babbled on about his
safety and the farm and house chores and such. Clearly, she was
delirious; Eaisan had never had time for house chores with the
responsibilities he carried on his shoulders. But he dismissed her
comments as the front door closed behind him, and he headed down
the path toward Trader's Square. Ben would certainly be able to
help, if not as a member of the militia, then with weapons training
and supplies. And if his schedule was too hectic, he'd certainly be
able to point Vultrel in the direction of another good weapons
master. There were several blacksmiths across Keroko, and Vultrel
was willing to travel to Narleaha to recruit if necessary, so if
Ben wasn't willing or able to join, there were certainly other
options available.

The paths grew more and more crowded the
closer he came to Trader's Square. Midday was not far off, and most
people tended to do their shopping around that time. Vultrel saw a
few familiar faces as he moved along the streets, but he was so
deep in thought that he barely managed a smile or a wave for most
of them. How was he going to pay the militiamen for their work? He
thought he remembered Eaisan complaining once about how the Mayor
hadn't provided him with a budget for the men's wages. Did the
money come from Mayor Randolf, then? A meeting would be in order,
Vultrel decided. There was no way Eaisan paid the soldiers out of
his own pocket, so the money must've come from somewhere. And if it
wasn't Mayor Randolf—

A brown-haired girl with glittery cheeks and
wide eyes stopped him in his tracks. "Vultrel! You're alive!" she
exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "I was so worried about
you!"

Finally torn from his thoughts, he returned
the hug. "I'm fine, Melia. You should've known I would be. I can
take care of myself."

She released him and stepped back, already
red in the face. "We heard you were all killed in Cathymel! But if
you're here, then does that mean your father and Arus are all right
as well? Does your mother know you're here? It's been over a week!
Does Katlyn know?"