Storm Surge (20 page)

It was Kalen’s first look at the Yadesh she rode; unlike Satrin, the Yadesh was more of an equal blend of horse and deer. “Hello, Verishi. You’re looking well. The same to you as well, Satrin.” Kalen stared at the new Yadesh. “You must be Dorit.”

~Greetings, Your Majesty. I am Dorit,~
the stag confirmed.

Kalen nodded, turning to the Mithrian as she dismounted from Satrin’s back. While he knew the woman by name and reputation alone, she wasn’t much taller than him, which startled him almost as much as the fact that she was now one of his Guardians. “Maiten, are you seriously telling me you turned Captain Silvereye’s second-in-command into a Guardian?”

Verishi giggled, diving down from Dorit’s back to launch herself at him. Maiten caught her in midair, setting her down. “Gently, Verishi.”

The handmaiden plowed into Kalen’s legs and held onto him. Careful with his splinted hand, he rested his arm on the top of her golden hair. “It’s nice to see you,” he murmured, meaning it.

“Horse Lord,” Verishi said happily.

“It’s a pleasure to serve you, Captain,” Moritta greeted, her voice soft. She lifted her hand to her brow in a brisk salute.

Kalen felt his mouth drop open, and he was powerless to utter a word. Why was the woman calling him Captain? At a complete loss, he turned to Maiten, making an incoherent sound.

“It would be wise if you were to touch him,” Crysallis said, watching from a short distance away. “Making a Guardian is a rather painful thing for His Majesty, and it won’t cease until there’s physical contact. Varest, try not to let him fall. He’s battered enough as it is.”

Kalen was aware of Varest behind him as Moritta reached out and rested her hand on his right shoulder. The phantom pains in his left arm evaporated, and his relief was so intense it left him breathless and his legs gave out from under him. Verishi let out a startled cry as Varest caught him from behind, keeping him upright.

“Oh!” Silvereye’s second-in-command jerked her hand back, her eyes widening. “I’m sorry, what—”

“It’s fine,” Maiten interrupted, his tone satisfied. “That’s what was supposed to happen. Better?”

Kalen closed his eyes and leaned against Varest, concentrating on keeping his breathing even. “Much.” As the euphoria wore off, he was aware of a lighter pressure in his left arm. “Maiten, are there
two
new ones?”

“Three, actually. Sorry, Your Majesty,” his Guardian replied, not sounding very apologetic.

It took him several moments for Kalen to gather his composure and stand on his own. “
Three?
What were you thinking? Also, someone please explain this Captain nonsense to me,” he requested, careful to keep his tone neutral.

“Captain Silvereye made the decision,” his new Guardian replied.

Kalen opened his mouth, but was at a loss of what to say. Instead of speaking, he made soft, baffled noises, first pointing at the Mithrian before turning to his Guardians.

Holding up his hands and backing away, Varest said, “I had nothing to do with this, Father. I was looking for you.”

Crysallis chuckled. “I am also innocent.”

“Innocent!” Verishi chirped.

~I, too, am quite innocent,~
Dorit whispered, and Kalen felt the Yadesh’s amusement.

Pawing at the ground, Satrin ducked his head.
~I only encouraged Derac.~

Kalen spun to face the Yadesh. “You encouraged
whom?
” His voice rose in pitch and cracked. “You convinced my cousin to become a Guardian? Are you mad?”

Satrin flattened his ears back.
~He’s the one who is mad. I just saw an opportunity to help you.~

Caught by surprise, both at the Yadesh’s unrelenting tone and the idea that his cousin would want to become a Guardian, Kalen snapped his teeth together, turning away so he wouldn’t say something else he’d regret. He considered Moritta first before turning to Maiten. Wishing he had a second arm so he could cross them over his chest, Kalen settled for arching a brow and waiting in expectant silence.

When no one said a word, he asked, “You turned Derac into a Guardian, Maiten?”

“That’s him over there. It was his choice.”

~It is my responsibility. I requested that Derac represent Kelsh in the matter of protecting you. When he found out who you were, he was eager to offer his help,~
Satrin said, continuing to dig a hole in the ground.

Kalen trembled. Derac knew everything—his cousin knew what had been done to him, from start to finish. “I see.”

~You’re not angry?~

“I am, but I understand.” If Kalen were in Derac’s position, he likely would have made the same decision, just as he had thrown himself into the Danarite’s camp on the chance that his family had been taken captive.

“Derac!” Maiten bellowed.

Both of the black horses drew closer. Derac dismounted, leading both animals as he joined the group. By the time his cousin stood among them, Kalen was shaking.

Crysallis rested her hand on his right shoulder and bent over to whisper in his ear, “Take deep breaths.”

Jerking his head in a nod, he obeyed the witch until he no longer felt like he was being strangled. “Derac.”

“Satoren,” his cousin replied in a soft voice.

The witch left him, leaning over to whisper into Derac’s ear. His cousin’s eyes widened.

“Touch him,” Maiten ordered. Kalen tensed as his cousin’s fingers brushed against his upper arm. Like with Moritta, his body relaxed and some of his pain eased. Varest took hold of his shoulders, but Kalen shrugged him away, relieved that he was able to remain upright on his own.

Kalen faced Maiten. “Tell me what this Shadow Captain nonsense is all about.”

Maiten cleared this throat, looking at anywhere other than at him. “There are certain protections a Shadow Captain of Mithrias enjoys,” was the subdued replied.

“I’m aware,” he replied, pausing as he struggled to gather his thoughts. “I’m pretty sure this violates the Covenant.”

It wasn’t just a violation of the Covenant, it lit the entire thing on fire. While Mithrias was often considered a neutrality in its own right, Kalen doubted any one kingdom could counter the combined forces of Mithrias and the Rift.

“Technicalities. Satoren Delrose is the Shadow Captain, not Kalen Alkasatoren,” the Mithrian woman countered in a smug tone. “According to Captain Silvereye, who is someone no sane Mithrian would accuse of lying, his younger captain has been in his company for a while, quietly rising through the ranks over the years. As Captain Silvereye had no way of knowing that Satoren Delrose was meant to take Kelsh’s throne, he is clear of all wrongdoing.” Moritta chuckled, looking far too pleased for Kalen’s comfort. “Thus, technically, the Rift King isn’t the Shadow Captain. Captain Silvereye knows what he is doing, and you’re far too clever to waste. Anyway, officially, His Majesty the Rift King is currently missing, kidnapped by an unknown entity.”

Once again, Kalen made noises in his throat as he struggled to come to terms with what the mercenary was telling him. “And whose idea was
that
?” he demanded, unable to mask his displeasure at the thought of his birth name once again haunting him.

“I believe that was a joint effort, Captain,” Moritta replied.

“A joint effort,” he murmured, considering how to get himself out of the mess made for him by an overenthusiastic mercenary captain and his equally eager Guardians. Kalen wanted to strangle someone, but that required two hands. “Why would any of you think it would be a good idea to make
me
into a Mithrian Shadow Captain? And why would anyone spread a rumor about…”

Kalen couldn’t bring himself to say it. The sickening tightness in his chest returned, choking off his breath. He forced himself to swallow, drawing deep breaths until the sensation faded. Derac watched, opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it.

“It’ll keep you safe,” Maiten said in a quiet, worried voice. “We are all in favor of ensuring your survival, Your Majesty and Captain, sir.”

Kalen needed to pretend nothing was wrong, so he turned to the witch, narrowing his eyes. “Crysallis, I don’t suppose you can remove this splint for a few minutes, can you?” After a moment of silence, he faced Maiten. “I think one of my Guardians requires the sense knocked back into him.”

With a faint smile, Derac said, “I’ll hold him for you if you’d like.”

“Do not encourage him, Guardian. I’m afraid you can’t beat him yet, Your Majesty, not until after you’ve seen a healer.” A flicker of concern in the witch’s expression betrayed the fact that Crysallis had noticed his lapse. Then she shook her head and joined in his ruse by bursting into laughter. “This is unbelievable.”

Kalen wasn’t certain if she was talking about his behavior or his scheming Guardians.

“He’s always been as close to a Shadow Captain as a Rift King can get,” Moritta pointed out, shrugging. Still smiling, the woman clasped her hands behind her. “You’ve been making changes to how Mithrias has run itself since the first days of your rule, or so I’ve heard. It is not so far of a leap to make you a Shadow Captain, sir. This is a good thing for Mithrias, so far as I’m concerned. We always need good men in the Shadow Council.”

“Need I remind you that there is a
reason
the Rift is under restrictions?” Kalen frowned, aware of the First observing, the creature’s interest warming the often cool spot in his head.

“If a way to contain the swarms is to be found, Mithrias and the Rift may have to work together,” Crysallis said, all of the humor in her voice replaced by a more troubled tone. “It will take the skreed time to mature, but once they do, I don’t know of anything that can stand against them.”

“Except the Danarites,” Kalen said, thinking of the priests who had summoned them in the first place.

“Except the Danarites,” Crysallis conceded.

“You know about this swarm?” Moritta asked.

The witch straightened, lifting her chin. “Unfortunately. Our first priority is to get His Majesty to a healer. After that, I will explain all that I know to you.”

Mounting without putting too much pressure on his hand was a challenge, but Kalen managed. Once he settled into the saddle, he turned to Varest. “Get rid of his bridle. It’s not like it’s any use to me right now, and he’ll be more comfortable without it.”

Ferethian’s ears pricked forward, remaining still as his foal obeyed. Varest packed the bridle into his saddle bags.

Just being astride his horse restored some of Kalen’s calm. “Lead the way, Guardians.”

~~*~~

Kalen dozed in the saddle, aided by Ferethian’s steady, swaying stride and the sense of security brought by the presence of four Guardians nearby. While he didn’t quite fall asleep, he truly relaxed for the first time since he’d been blinded in Morinvale.

“He’s the exact opposite of earlier,” Varest said, loud enough to catch Kalen’s attention.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Crysallis replied, amused. “Don’t worry, Ferethian won’t let him fall.”

“I know that,” his foal muttered.

“You mean
I
won’t let him fall,” Maiten rumbled.

Ferethian snorted. Before his stallion could retaliate against either Guardian or the witch, Kalen touched the tips of his fingers to his horse’s neck. “You mean I won’t let myself fall.”

“Is there a reason we can’t stop and let him rest?” Derac asked, his tone mild. Kalen cracked open an eye to glance at his cousin, who rode Breton’s Gorask. Neither horse nor man looked happy.

“We need to get around the swarm before it wakes up again,” Maiten said in a grim tone. “Fortunately, it isn’t much farther.”

Kalen sighed, straightened, and shifted in the saddle. “Then let’s ride like we mean it. We can rest after we’re well away from the swarm’s path. And before you bother arguing, yes, I’m certain. No, I don’t care if you think I should rest and take it easy. Yes, I know I’m not doing myself any good by pushing too hard right now. Yes, the first thing I intend to do when we’re back with the mercenaries is to find Parice. No, I won’t beat any of you, however much I think you deserve it. Is there anything I’ve forgotten?”

Varest reached over and rustled his hair. “No, I think you’ve addressed the important parts, Father.”

“Dump him,” Kalen ordered, wondering if Varest’s gelding would obey.

With a half buck and a sidestep, Asheval dislodged his Rider from the saddle. His foal hit the ground hard. Kalen leaned over Ferethian’s shoulder to stare down at his fallen Guardian. “Thank you, Asheval.”

“That wasn’t nice, Father,” Varest groaned. “It’s not fair, cajoling my horse to do your dirty work.”

“That’s for playing with my hair again.”

“He’s the Horse Lord,” Verishi said smugly from her perch on Dorit’s back.

Maiten burst out into laughter. “Welcome to the family, Moritta, Derac. If you want to know how well he’s feeling, touch his hair.”

Moritta slid down from Satrin’s back, holding out her hand to Varest. “I’ll make sure to remember that.”