EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy (32 page)

Commander Amadeus snarled, “We don’t take orders from grunts like you. We have the situation in hand.”

“Have it in
hand
?” Sara snarled back. “Is that what you call a battlefield red with the blood of your men and only them?”

“My
men
are right here,” said Amadeus coldly.

Sara tried to object again.

Simon held up a hand for silence. “It’s all right, Amadeus. Perhaps I should explain a little.”

“I have done what I came here to do,” said Simon, turning to Sara. “The sun mage will be the key to killing all of the Kade mages one-by-one. I won’t risk that by setting off a useless counter-strike that would leave us defenseless and likely let her escape.”

Sara swallowed harshly. “You’ve done all you came here to do?”
 

She was nearly shaking in anger.

“How dare you?” spluttered Ezekiel beside her. “You’ll let your troops fall to save your own hide?”

“At the orders of the empress, I would sacrifice my own child for the greater good,” said their captain.

Then it all came together in Sara’s mind as flashes of what he had said ventured through her thoughts.
Orders of the empress… Done what I came to do… The sun mage is key.

She stared at the captain in revulsion. “You knew this would happen all along.”

He turned to her with calm eyes. “We made precautions in case the Kade mages decided to take out our forces in the first skirmish and recapture the prisoner before we could arrive at the battlefield at a normal pace.”
Ezekiel snorted. “Yeah, like that went so well. You left her behind.
Sara
brought your precious prisoner to you.”

The captain turned to her with a measured look. “Did you, now?”

Sara said nothing. Revulsion still in her eyes. She was half-tempted to take Nissa and Ezekiel and flee. Flee to where, she didn’t know. But serving under a man who abandoned his leadership to take charge of one prisoner, no matter who the orders came from, didn’t sit well with her.

“Yes, she did,” admitted Commander Amadeus.

“Well,” said the captain, “we can’t let that go unnoticed.”

Sara said, “Don’t trouble yourself over it, really.”

“No, I honor the traditions of the mercenary guild.”

Yeah, except I don’t think leaving your men behind was one of those honored traditions
, she thought viciously.

The captain continued, oblivious to her thoughts, “You’ve now been promoted to Mercenary of the first division of the Corcoran guard.”

He said it as if she should take pride in that.

Ezekiel beat her to the punch. “I hate to break it to you, but thanks to your impressive leadership, all your other divisions are
dead
.”
Captain Simon snarled, “One more word out of you, Mercenary, and I’ll have you left here.”

Ezekiel piped down.

“No, you won’t,” said Sara staunchly. “Every mercenary of the first and second divisions has an archer assigned to them. Ezekiel is mine.”

Simon gave her a fairly amused look. “As you like.”

He turned to Ezekiel. “Ensign Crane, you are now designated to the first division as well. And for the record…the Corcoran guard is much more than the first, third, and fourth divisions.”

Simon had just listed the division of troops that they had rode from the capital city of Sandrin—over five hundred men and women strong. Sara had wondered why the divisions were labeled so haphazardly. Now she guessed she’d have her answer.
 

“The might of the Corcoran guard has
ten
divisions. Each with over two hundred mercenaries in their ranks,” said Simon as he backed away suddenly and addressed the men who gathered in the clearing. As they emerged from the shadows to stand around the broad ring free-standing in the clearing and the fiery smoke of a field burning a few miles away drifted above, Sara counted over thirty individuals until she lost track.

“Only sixty-two number among the first division,” Simon barked with his hands behind him and his feet spread. He began to walk around the center of the tight circle formed by the individuals of the first division. A loud cheer met his pronouncement.

“But still we lost the four hundred and fifty brave souls of the third and fourth divisions tonight. They didn’t sacrifice themselves for naught,” Simon continued.

They didn’t sacrifice themselves for anything
, thought Sara.
They were led like lambs to the slaughter by a leader who didn’t care.

“We will move forward, we will strike in heart of the darkness, and we will
end
the Kades for good!” shouted Barthis. “For our land, for our empress, for Algardis!”

His sentenced ended on the roar of dozens of men.

Before her Sara saw a leader with the charisma of dozens but the heart of a snake. Calculating, cold, and deadly. Simon dropped his raised fist and walked over to their sun mage.

“Nissa Sardonien, sun mage and member of the Kade mages, are you ready to complete your destiny?”

Nissa raised her head proudly. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t turn away.

“Am I ready to die so that your imperial courts can continue to drain these lands of resources and magic until Algardis is nothing but a husk, to the shame of our founding emperor and the true intention of the bond between mage and land?” she asked. “No, I am not. But seeing as I have no choice, proceed.”

With every word, anger grew on the captain’s face. When she invoked the sacred title of the first emperor, he hauled back a hand and slapped her so hard that she fell into Sara’s side. Sara helped her to stand while staring at the captain coldly.

Sara didn’t resist when the captain grabbed the rope restraining Nissa’s hand and tugged her into the center of the circle with him. Although she wanted to. By the gods, the man was a vile individual.

With a sharp push, he held up Nissa’s hands while wrenching her arrow-shot shoulder in the process. She was unable to hold back a cry. He didn’t care.

“This woman is our key! She will be the downfall of her maniacal compatriots,” he said.

The men and women cheered.

Finished, Barthis turned to another mage standing to the side with a satisfied grin. “Open the portal way.”

The man stepped toward the large circle and set to work.

Tearing her eyes away from the sight of Nissa on the ground nursing her shoulder, Sara said to Ezekiel, “What is that?”

“It’s a portal way—a gate of passage that can transport us anywhere in the empire.”

Sara stared at him. “Anywhere like to the edge of a battlefield at least four weeks’ hard riding from here?”

He nodded with a gulp.

“Are you ready?” she said.

“Do I have a choice?” he said, straightening his shoulders.

Sara shook her head and they both turned to watch as the portal way glowed with a brilliant light. The same light they’d seen before.

As Sara watched, she knew. It was time to face the true battlefield—the battlefield of Aranos in the heart of Kade territory.

Find out what happens next by starting
Blades Of Illusion: Crown Service #2
today.

Afterword

T
ERAH
E
DUN
IS
A
YOUNG
adult fantasy writer that writes the stories that she always loved to read as a young girl. Her
Courtlight
series can be seen on the USA Today Happily Ever After blog and her
Crown Service
series spent four weeks in the Amazon Top 500. Her latest book is
Sworn To Ascension
, the sixth in the Courtlight series. You can find her at
twitter.com/tedunwrites
or
Facebook.com/TerahEdunAuthor
.

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C
ONCEALED
P
OWER

K. J. Colt

Chapter I

T
HIS
EVENING
,
MY
PARENTS
PREPARED
a last meal of rice and pork before they took my uncle’s best horse and cart south for merchant trading. I asked if I could go with them. They said no, as they always did. Mid-spring signalled the gathering of merchants across my country, South Senya, for the Bivinia markets in Old Bow. At that time of year, I worried about my affliction most.

Frothy soap dripped from my wet fingers as I tried to scrub them clean. They were red and sore yet I still believed the cracks and lines in my palms hid traces of my disease.

‘That’s enough washing, Adenine. Come over here,’ Father said.

I darted my eyes to his and then back to my palms, annoyed with the dim light that did little to show the details of my skin. Being the last carrier of the Death Plague, I had to be extra careful that none of the impurities passed to Mother and Father’s clothes. Outside people weren’t immune to my disease.

I dropped the soap on the side of the wash dish. I wiped my hands on my dress and walked over to where Father and Uncle Garrad stood. All three of us waited for Mother to finish her flustered search for the provisions they would need on the trip. My hands still felt dirty, and I scratched at them with my fingernails.

Mrs. Moferbury, my tutor, had told me that the Death Plague had led to a civil war. Our country’s turmoil made the Bivinians see us as a cursed land, which was why my parents had to travel so far to retrieve their exotic merchandise. In order for a Bivinian to accept a trade from a Senyan merchant, the Senyan must be dressed in a tunic as white as snow and as clean as the coat of a prized mare to demonstrate purification of our Senyan filth. Mother said the Bivinians were an aloof people ruled by tradition and ritual.

‘Now, you be a good girl, Adenine, and keep your old uncle entertained,’ Father said, leaning over to tuck a strand of my dark brown, flyaway locks behind my ear.

‘Yes, Papa,’ I replied, giving him my warmest smile.

‘Don’t be mocking my age, little brother, or I’ll guzzle that there prized ale of yours,’ Uncle Garrad said from behind me. He placed a hand on my shoulder. One good thing about my parents’ absence was that I got to spend time with my Uncle Garrad, who was older than my father yet twice the fun, mostly because he bent my parents’ rules.

The only light in the room came from two small lamps—my uncle held one of them—and the fire in the hearth. As Uncle Garrad moved, his lantern swung from side to side, causing shadows to dance on Father’s face. I reached out and tugged on my uncle’s long beard. My father chuckled and straightened his spotless tunic.

‘I would not be surprised if I returned to find my casks drained.’ Father winked at me.

‘Are you calling me a drunkard? Least I don’t kiss the arse of the weak-willed Bivinians.’

‘Without my bottom kissing, you wouldn’t have access to my brew, now would you?’

Uncle Garrad laughed and stroked his beard. ‘Can’t deny that, I s’pose.’

Their jousting didn’t change the empty feeling that filled my gut knowing Father and Mother would be gone soon. They’d be away for a month, but it would feel like forever. My heart fluttered a little. Soon, he would open the great oak and iron barricade of a door that separated our home’s second story from our shop below, Mystoria, a door that kept me in, and other people out.

Father lifted a large leather bag that bulged with coin, clothes, and other necessities. With his other hand, he twisted his fingers around the brass ring that secured two iron keys. With a jingle, he brought the keys up in front of him in order to choose between them. I held my breath. The cart was packed. Mother was almost done in the nearby storeroom, and I was filled with anticipation of what Father would do next.

I followed his every movement as he turned and pushed the largest key into the lock of the door and twisted. The sound of the moving cogs made the back of my neck tingle, as it spoke of forbidden escape. Father tugged on the handle, and the barricade door swung inward, creaking as it moved. The aroma of exotic perfumes and incense rushed up to meet me, and I breathed in the delicious combinations of sweet, sour, and spice. The openness of the room made me feel uneasy, but my curiosity began to drown any nervousness. I peered down the stone stairs that descended toward the areas I was normally banned from visiting. The stairwell seemed to sink into the black.

Mother emerged from the back room, white bonnet fastened, and she tried to smooth out a few creases in her matching white tunic. She frowned, spreading her fingers. ‘How’s a lady supposed to keep such a colour clean and neat?’

‘You’re as beautiful as a snowflower, my dear,’ Father said, grinning at her. He placed one of the door keys into Uncle Garrad’s hand.

Uncle Garrad put the key in the pocket of his pants, and a glimmer of amusement flashed in his eyes when he caught me watching.

‘There’s something different about you in that colour,’ Mother said, looking Father up and down.

Father glanced down at his clothes. ‘It’s the white. We don’t see it very often now the healers have turned their backs on us. It was their colour of choice, remember?’

Mother glared at Father, putting her hands on her hips. His eyes darted to me. My parents rarely mentioned the healers in my presence. Mrs. Moferbury wouldn’t tell me much about them either.

‘Take care of my darling daughter,’ Mother said to my uncle.

Uncle Garrad straightened, his brown shirt stretching over his slightly bulging stomach. ‘I’ll keep her warm, fed and… amused.’

Mother narrowed her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched. ‘Remember to administer her medicine once daily.’

I screwed up my face. I hated the sour green mush that came in tiny little bottles. I’d found ways to subdue the taste, like sucking on a sugar cube directly after swallowing.

Long ago, I thought I’d given Uncle Garrad my disease because he sometimes broke out in weeping red sores and groaned when he walked. Once, his sores were so bad that Mother and Father took a long expedition to find a cure, but they returned empty handed.

‘She’ll need a bath within four days, and make sure you keep that door locked,’ Mother added.