The Destroyer Book 3 (30 page)

Read The Destroyer Book 3 Online

Authors: Michael-Scott Earle

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: The Destroyer Book 3
2.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I tried to do a quick count of tents to estimate how many troops they held. I guessed that there were between ten and twelve thousand troops. But I was only viewing one side of the castle and there could be more moving inside of the city proper, in the fortress, and on the other sides of the city walls.

"Walk, O'Baarni." Vernine looked over her shoulder at me and licked her lips slightly. The two guards that had been placed outside the door of my tent joined my escort to make seven Elvens including my lover. I realized they were all women warriors, and I wondered if there was something about women that my enemy thought would be better suited to handle me.

I followed Vernine through the main thoroughfare north, deeper into the sea of Elven tents. Each tent had a color scheme and coordinating flag with an insignia. A few of the tents closest to mine were white with gold flags. As we moved away from the city walls into the camp, the tents were dyed various colors of blue, brown, red, and gray. Hundreds of Elven soldiers walked down the cross work paths in small groups in like-colored uniforms, none spared me or my escorts more than a passing glance.

This all felt familiar to me. Achingly familiar. The sounds, smells, and bustle of the camp were more muted than what I remembered, but they spoke to me of my old army in ways that Nadea's camp had not. Maybe it was the way the tents were colored, or the matching armor the various soldiers wore. Perhaps the placements of the banners, the quick and precise conversations the passing Elvens engaged in, or the combination of them that reminded me of my army. Our walk only took five minutes through the tents, but toward the end of the journey I could predict where we would turn to reach the empress's tent, because I would have planned it the same way.

"Wait here. Remember my warning." Vernine stopped at the edge of a clearing surrounding a massive white pavilion set deep in the soft ground. She waited in front of me until I nodded in agreement with her statement. Then she looked at the guards before walking through the clearing to the empress's tent. The soldiers at the entrance were dressed like her: in green trimmed chain mail with a long cloak over one shoulder. Their hair color even matched hers. I watched them exchange salutes before Vernine disappeared downstairs into the empress's tent.

My guards formed a circle facing me. They didn't draw their swords, but the intent was clear in their eyes, especially the one who I seemed to have particularly offended while I bathed. Instead of meeting their glares, I decided to study the empress's pavilion and the surrounding camp in greater detail.

Six flags hung from the roof of the massive white tent. The largest was green with embroidery of a golden sword wrapped in vines. I guessed that this was the empress's banner since there seemed to be a theme of green with her personal guards and the surrounding tents. There was a black flag next to the green one, featuring a white icon that looked like a dancing flame. Others were red with a black hatchet, brown with a red sun rising over a mountain, teal with a silver conch spiral, and gold with three blue stars inside of a crescent moon. The last one looked familiar, and I guessed it was Alatorict's banner. Isslata always wore gold, and the other guards I had observed in the castle wore the same color or blue.

I waited on the edge of the clearing for about ten minutes before Vernine walked out of the tent and made her way toward me.

"Come!" she ordered, and the guards broke the circle and allowed me to follow.

The sentries eyed me cautiously as I approached. They carried hand crossbows crafted of the same metal my smith had used for my armor, shield and mace. The material had a black cast to it but shone gray in direct light. A quick inhale confirmed my guess that the small bolts were coated in a thick poison. It smelled like the same concoction they had used on me almost a year ago. One of their assassin’s arrows had pierced my arm and rendered the limb useless for almost ten minutes. The guards stepped aside as we grew nearer to allow Vernine to lead me down the polished wood stairs and into the belly of the tent.

The canvas cover was thick, and combined with the setting in the ground, not much light was clawing its way inside of the tent. My vision worked perfectly in absolute darkness, so the dimness didn't bother me, and I doubted it bothered my captors. The entire floor of the pavilion was made of polished planks of maple that smelled of lemon wax. Potted lavender plants added a purple hue to the filtered light and a fragrant musk to the air. There was something else in the air with a pleasant but unfamiliar smell. I struggled to identify the scent while my eyes took in the remainder of the space.

The pavilion was more rectangle than square and sixty feet wide at its shortest side. Ahead of me stood half a dozen green armored guards stationed at each wall carrying the same poison crossbows. Half of them were females and the other half were males, but they all wore their pewter hair long and tied up like Vernine.

At the end of the tent, six Elvens knelt on cushions arranged in a semi-circle around a large white pillow that I assumed was meant for me. I approached behind Vernine and felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I knew this was a dangerous situation, but something in my gut warned me of additional danger I had not yet identified. I scanned the assembled Elvens and recognized Alatorict, with his silver hair and incongruously large smile. There were three women and one man who I assumed were other generals.

Then there was the empress.

Who looked almost exactly like Nadea.

“The O’Baarni,” Vernine announced as we approached. I tried to hide my shock. She was the same. The shape of her face, her cheekbones, her eyebrows. The curve and color of her lips, the way she held her head. It was unnerving. As we grew closer I saw that there were some slight differences between the Elven and Nadea. Nadea’s eyes were brown and the empress’s were amber and the exaggerated almond shape of Elvens. Nadea’s hair was a darker brown than her eyes, while the empress’s hair shone a light, reflective bronze. And of course the empress’s ears extended up through her hair and almost reached the top of her skull. Despite these differences, I was certain that this woman was Nadea’s mother.

"You were wrong, Vernine. He recognizes my sister." The woman seated next to the empress had skin and hair the color of snow and looked immediately familiar. I turned my attention to her and searched my memory for anywhere I could have met her but came up without an answer. Her eyes were startling against her white skin, deep black onyx, the iris as black as the pupil. Her left eyebrow arched in puzzlement when I glanced at her. There were two other women seated between the empress and Alatorict: one with braided green hair the color of jade and matching eyes, and the other with onyx hair and eyes the color of sapphires. At the end of the semi-circle on my right was a male Elven with dull reddish hair.

"Please sit down, O'Baarni," Alatorict said in his pleasant timbre. I turned to him briefly and tried not to let any emotion show. The pillow was made of feathers and wrapped in a satin that felt more luxurious than even the silk clothes I wore. Once I arranged my knees underneath me I turned my attention back to the empress and met her eyes.

She wore a cream-colored robe accented with green and gold embroidered vines, flowers, roots and birds. The tailoring and detail were exquisite. I could only recall seeing finer garments in my memories, when we ransacked the homes of conquered Elvens. At her side lay a curved short sword, the hilt and scabbard matched the design in her robe and I assumed the blade was a work of art as well.

There was silence in the tent while we studied each other. The strange but pleasant scent I had been trying to identify when I first walked into the pavilion still lingered. I realized I had lost track of how long I stared at empress. Isslata had to have seen the resemblance to Nadea. I wondered why she had not said anything or brought Nadea here to the empress.

The generals sat as still and serene as the empress and I, but the guards began to fidget as the minutes passed. Finally, I saw Alatorict raise his hand from the edge of my vision and Elven servants entered from behind the empress carrying trays. They moved quickly to each of the seated Elvens and laid out a large wooden platter loaded with pewter plates of breakfast foods: Smoked fish rested on a bed of multicolored rice, poached eggs in a bowl of salted chicken broth, and a cucumber and strawberry salad coated in a fragrant pepper vinegar. Finally, a small cup of tea that smelled of pine and a large glass of wine were placed in front of me.

"Please eat, O'Baarni. The empress's cooks prepared this meal especially for you." Alatorict used a pair of thin wooden sticks to pinch a piece of fish, which he scooped into the bed of multicolored rice, and then placed in his mouth. The empress followed Alatorict's example with a bite of the fruit and the rest of her generals began to consume their breakfast. I studied the empress's grip on the wooden sticks and grasped mine in the same manner. The first bite was a bit clumsy, but the fish tasted even better than it smelled, with just the right amount of smoke and salt mixed in with the flesh.

"Does this meal please you?" Alatorict asked after I took a few more bites and washed it down with a sip of the wine. The liquid was an odd mixture of grape and plum. Bitter and sweet.

I shrugged my shoulders and glanced back at the white-haired Elven that sat on the empress's left. She smirked at my attention and then turned to one of the other general's as she spoke in the language I remembered.

"He doesn't look like much. Certainly not a great warrior." The red-haired male grunted. His hair was not a bright red, but more the color of desert rock. The hair seemed to have a sticky oil in it that made it stand up. He was stout for an Elven and I noticed thick coiled muscles underneath the crimson tunic he wore.

"Looks can deceive," said the woman to the empress's right. Her onyx hair was loose like the empress's and slid down her back like an ink stain. Her glowing sapphire eyes gave a stark contrast to her hair and pale skin. The robe she wore was simpler than the empress's, it was a light shade of teal with trim reminiscent of sea shells. "I prefer our better sense." She licked her lips slowly and eyed me with interest. "He smells as Vernine described." I turned to look at Vernine. She stood behind me with her arms crossed. Her face was expressionless, but she made eye contact briefly with me when I glanced at her.

"You understand our language." It was Nadea's voice, only it came from the empress. The other generals stopped their leisurely meal and stared at me in astonishment. I made contact with the empress's honey eyes and could not keep myself from smirking. I had made a mistake by looking at Vernine.

"The accent is strange, some words are different, but I get the sense of it," I said to her in our old tongue. The empress's eyes narrowed and she leaned back slightly.

"Perhaps your accent is the strange one, O'Baarni. How did you learn our tongue?" She reached down and picked up a portion of egg with her wooden sticks. Her eyes didn't leave my face, and I was reminded again of Nadea's mannerisms.

"Where I come from, everyone spoke it." My mouth felt a little strange forming the words. I hadn't actually spoken the language since Paug taught me his.

"Where do you come from?" The empress finally smiled, and I wanted to scream at the similarity between her and Nadea.

"I was born in a stable. My father was a blacksmith." I shrugged and tore my eyes away from her to focus on my food.

"Alatorict had mentioned that you were not forthcoming with information. Perhaps you will be more open with me?" She smiled again, and I tried to keep my eyes off her mouth.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want to get to know you better." She held out her empty cup to the air and a servant almost instantly appeared to fill it with tea.

"I find that hard to believe. If I called you a liar would it piss off your lap dogs?" I looked at the male with the spiked red hair. He frowned slightly but didn't seem offended.

"What would make you think I am lying?" She tilted her head sideways a bit like a confused animal. The movement made her bronze hair fall off one of her shoulders like a wave of water. Something strange was happening. It felt like magic, but I couldn't identify what kind the empress used. I didn't feel my usual anger and disgust in their presence. Perhaps it was her resemblance to Nadea?

"A few of your warriors attempted to kill me in this city about ten months ago. It doesn't seem as if you would order that if you wanted to know me better."

"I can see why you would feel that way. But I did learn something about you, didn't I?" she smiled slightly again and her generals grinned to match her, save the woman with the white hair. She didn't seem to pay attention to the conversation; she was looking at my hands.

"You learned I could kill your brood easily. Did you expect any different?" I finished my meal and pushed my plate away. The food had been delicious and I could have eaten another eight courses without feeling full.

"What name were you given O'Baarni?" She changed the subject.

"I believe you already know that." I snorted and looked over at Alatorict. He shook his head.

"I am interested in that name." She took a small bite of an egg and then slowly chewed. Finally, she swallowed and reached for her glass of wine. "I am somewhat of a historian on the Destroyer. Call it a hobby if you will. Can you guess why?" she smiled at me again and I suddenly thought about fucking her. She looked too much like Nadea.

Other books

Alligators of Abraham by Robert Kloss
City of War by Neil Russell
Lieberman's Law by Stuart M. Kaminsky
A Killing Gift by Leslie Glass
yame by Unknown
The Long Prospect by Elizabeth Harrower
Where Pigeons Don't Fly by Yousef Al-Mohaimeed
Blacky Blasts Back by Barry Jonsberg