Eighteenth of Nirakos

Year 1182 of Emancipation

After racing out of the palace at the head of a guard detachment, Loranna found Belkai sitting against a blood splattered wall staring blankly at the healers kneeling over Sashai. She dropped to her friend’s side and quickly checked her for any injuries.

“Where is Davos?”

Belkai blinked, shaken out of her reverie by Loranna’s voice. “They took him. I was right here and they took him.”

Loranna pulled her close and let her head drop onto her shoulder.

“We will find him,” Loranna whispered. “And we will kill anyone who tries to stop us.”

Belkai took a deep breath and steadied her nerves. Sitting here wallowing in her misery wouldn’t help Davos. She pulled away and nodded.

“Where is the Prophetess?” she asked.

“She’s still in her chambers. The king is with her,” answered a nearby soldier.

“Show me,” Belkai ordered. The guard moved towards the door but stopped when Loranna held up a hand.

She put her other hand on Belkai’s shoulder to stop her as well. “Not like that.”

Belkai frowned and looked down, surprised to see bloodstains on her clothes.

“We brought more,” Loranna reminded her gently. “The perks of royalty.”

Belkai forced a smile. “Let’s go then.”

When Belkai entered the Prophetess’ chambers she was wearing a black knee-length skirt and a dark top with thin straps over the shoulders. The click of her formal shoes echoed through the silent room as she joined Farhad and Siara beside the main window.

“I am sorry about Davos,” the Prophetess said quietly. “He is a good man. If I learn anything, I will let you know immediately.”

“Thank you,” Belkai said. She could feel Siara’s pain. She had lost many men and women that she loved as her own children, and each death was like a knife to her heart. She put a hand on the Prophetess’ arm, much to Farhad’s surprise, and said, “I feel your pain, Milady. I am so sorry for your losses.”

Siara nodded, and her eyes glistened from the tears that threatened to flood. “I have never heard of anything so brazen.”

“They were making a statement to us,” Belkai told the two of them. “Nothing is sacred, no one is safe. Not until they achieve their goals.”

“The King says that you believe they were the Sons of Retribution.”

Belkai nodded, and Siara continued, “That is disturbing, to say the least. They have wiped out two villages, two armies, and violated my Temple - and taken your husband. What do they want?”

“Me,” Belkai said simply. “I violated the Arcane. Now I must pay with my life. At least, that is what they see.”

“Then why not just kill you?” Farhad waved a hand. “Get it done with?”

“Because I am to suffer,” Belkai replied, and the pain was clear in her voice. “They took the one person who means the most and have placed him at the mercy of killers. They want me afraid and hurting before they kill me.”

“So what are you going to do?” Farhad frowned.

“She will hunt them,” Siara responded, and Belkai’s sad smile confirmed her suspicion. “When she finds them, she will kill them.”

“If we find them,” Farhad pointed out. “We have no way of knowing where they went.”

“They have left Svaleta,” Siara said. “A wolf does not make its lair in its own hunting ground.”

“They will not be hard to find,” Belkai told them. “They want me to come for them.”

“The Kingdom of Svaleta stands behind you,” Farhad said. Belkai didn’t mention that Echtalon was contained in Narandir. It would be best not to muddy the waters at this stage.

“It may be best that I approach this alone,” Belkai replied. “I don’t know what else they may do, even as they attempt to draw me out.”

“You think they will attack again,” Farhad said absently as he stared out of the window. He was out of his depth, Belkai knew. Not for the first time, she wished that Alihad had control of the nation. Unfortunately, such decisions were well beyond her influence. “How do we defend against a force like this?”

“You strike it at the source,” Belkai said quietly. “You find the ones responsible and eliminate them.”

She raised a hand before Farhad could speak again. “One person can do more damage than an army if they are not spotted – and if they are underestimated.”

There was a knock at the door and the king’s steward nervously stepped inside.

“My Lord, Miladies, I apologise. Lord Belkai, there is a messenger who wishes to speak to you.”

Belkai frowned, but waved for him to send the messenger in. The steward was replaced by an elf dressed in white leather armour.

“Grais, what are you doing here?”

The elf glanced at the Prophetess and king and smiled nervously. “We had a visitor, Milady. Lithmae did not think that we should wait until you returned. He sent us both here to see you. I think you may have more important matters to attend to, based on what I’ve seen here.”

“Who is this visitor?” Siara asked, sensing something strange in the elf’s voice. Belkai nodded for him to respond, and he replied,

“An emissary from Nimura.”

“Greywall?” Belkai frowned. Grais nodded. “Send him in.”

She turned to the others and explained, “Greywall is a Nimuran prince. He was sent by their king to broker a new treaty between Nimura and Narandir.”

“The dwarves have never been ones to waste time,” Farhad murmured as the dwarven prince came into the room. A Svaletan soldier carried his cloak, and Greywall was clothed in golden armour as he bowed to the three of them.

“Thank you for seeing me again, Milady,” he said to Belkai. “We have heard stories about what has been happening in Svaleta. You have our sympathies for all that you have lost. It seems that something worse has happened here.”

“Werewolves,” Belkai told him. “They attacked only minutes ago.”

“Strange things are happening,” Greywall said. “We heard rumours of vampires in Solstia. Apparently the bodies went missing that very day.”

“How did you hear about that?” Farhad crossed his arms. “Only the people of Narandir saw the bodies.”

“We dwarves have always had our ways of learning secrets,” Greywall replied. “I ask that you accept that.”

“For now, at least.” Farhad fought hard to keep his frustration in check. He hadn’t had much interaction with the dwarves, Belkai realised. That was strange; Nimura was only on the southern end of Narandir, bordering the southern regions of the Tios Principality. They were close enough to have diplomatic relations with Svaleta, and it would be a mutually beneficial partnership. Was it Farhad or the dwarves who refused to make contact? Does it make a difference?

“What do you know about the vampires?” Belkai stepped in, giving Farhad a chance to calm down.

“Eight days ago, a group of vatriloi were spotted east of Mirask, heading south. A team of scouts tracked them past Nimura and into the desert.”

“How far did they follow?” Farhad asked.

“Two days. We’re not built for heat, I’m afraid.”

Belkai smiled at that. Though the dwarf was powerfully built, he was also large. The armour must have been stifling in the desert heat. Even restricting their movements to the night, as the vampires must have, it would have taken its toll.

“There is nothing in those deserts,” Siara pointed out. “Nowhere for them to hide.”

“There are ruins. The remnants of Svaleta’s past are still somewhere in those wastes,” Greywall pointed out. “Long forgotten by most of your kind, but still very much present. The nearest set of ruins would be perhaps seven or eight days’ journey from here.”

“Would you lend your assistance should Belkai journey there?” Farhad asked.

“As a matter of fact, my king has requested your presence, Milady,” Greywall told Belkai in response. “If you would be so kind. He is disturbed by such blatant movements by these creatures.”

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He looked to Farhad and cocked his head to one side. “Why the interest, my lord? Why would Belkai be seeking out these vampires in particular?”

“The ones who attacked this Temple are likely the same who led the vatriloi in Solstia,” Belkai said, carefully avoiding any mention of the bigger picture. “They attacked here to take my husband captive. I intend to get him back.”

“In that case, Milady, we should leave at once.”

Belkai turned to Farhad and Siara. “I apologise that our first meetings have been so short. When I return, we will have much to discuss, I imagine.”

“Go with the blessing of the Sun, Belkai,” Siara said, and folded her hands across her chest as she bowed. “My prayers will go with you.”

“The might of Svaleta awaits your summons,” Farhad promised. “We will await word.”

“Thank you.” Belkai bowed to them both. “I will end the terror that is plaguing our land. I will restore the peace that Ashelath has stolen.”

“Our sins always follow us,” Siara noted. “Even if we do strike a blow for freedom.”

It was hardly a comforting thought for Belkai as she followed Greywall out of the room.

***

Loranna was waiting outside, and pulled Belkai into a room by themselves.

“I heard the plan,” she said, arms crossed over her chest. “It’s not a good one.”

“The vampires are a trap, but they’re also the only way to end this,” Belkai told her. “It has to be done.”

“But alone?”

“Who else can go?” Belkai snapped, throwing her hands up in the air. “Svaleta will not march an army through Tios, and Wexburg will not allow them in Nimura. They may not be enemies, but they have never been friends. The dwarves themselves would ignite a war if they sent soldiers out of the mountains.”

She ran a hand through her hair and steadied her breathing. “Besides, who else can I trust with Davos’ life?”

“You will need help,” Loranna insisted. Belkai thought for a moment, then nodded.

“I cannot lower Narandir’s defences, not when we’re under threat. Choose some people you can trust, people outside of Narandir. Follow a day behind me. No one should know you are with me.”

Loranna didn’t question the secrecy. The compromise was enough for now. “As you wish...Milady.”

Belkai glared at her, though she eventually had to smile. Before she could respond, there was a knock on the doorpost before General Alihad stepped into the room.

“My apologies, Milady,” the man said quietly, giving a quick bow. “I came as soon as I heard the Temple was under attack.”

“Thank you, General,” Belkai said, returning the bow. Loranna bid farewell and quickly left. “You have spoken with the king?”

She was surprised to feel anger at the mention of Farhad. Alihad kept it off his face, however, as he replied, “I have. My soldiers are making a careful survey of the Temple grounds. There is a carriage missing, which I suspect is being used to transport your husband. I have sent riders to track it down.”

The general frowned. “If I may, Lady Belkai, these are strange days.”

“I hear that a lot,” Belkai pointed out, and he smiled grimly.

“Indeed. But I speak as one who has seen your power – and been saved by it. Svaleta cannot survive much more of these assaults. First the Aliri, now Arcane forces? This is a weight that we cannot bear.”

Before she responded, Belkai reached out to sense Farhad’s presence. He had left already, she realised, apparently finding something more important to attend to away from the destruction. She took a deep breath and said,

“I fear that your army, strong as it is, has not been given a leadership equal to the task.”

Alihad’s eyes narrowed, understanding her meaning. “Those are dangerous words, Milady, even when spoken here.”

He sighed, and his face dropped. “But the truth is, you are right. Did you know that the Aliri were camped north of Arborshire for several days while we did nothing? I could have smashed them while they were preparing their attack, but I was ordered to keep my men in place. Every strategy that I have developed has been cast aside at the king’s command.”

“You should not be admitting this,” Belkai cautioned. “But I am grateful for your honesty. I do not see Svaleta’s future, but I know its people. You will survive.”

Alihad looked into her eyes and sensed that there was more to be spoken. “Milady, if I may speak freely, you have something else that you wish to share.”

“Farhad is not ready for the storm that is coming,” Belkai said in a whisper. “He chases women while his kingdom stands on the brink. You need to make him understand this.”

“The Prophetess warned us to seek peace,” Alihad confessed. “I counselled against her.”

“You are a soldier. That is your place,” Belkai pointed out. “A king is meant to look beyond that. I don’t know what is coming, General, but it is beyond what the Aliri can throw against you. The Arcane will not stop at raids and skirmishes.”

“Then how do we prepare for that warfare?” Alihad asked, a hint of fear entering his voice. Belkai stepped forward and rested a hand gently on his shoulder.

“You trust me.”

She squeezed his shoulder, then left the room to find Greywall waiting.

“Let’s go,” she said, and the dwarf nodded. They made a strange pair moving through the Temple, but Belkai ignored the stares. Her mind was set only on finding Davos, whatever the Arcane may have set in her way.

***

No one paid much attention to the horse and carriage as it headed east past the ruins of Scamia towards the border with the Tios Principality. The Svaletan driver was polite to the few people they passed by, as befit one of his assumed station. The closed carriage was painted white, with golden trim around the doors and windows. Silver curtains blocked any view of who was inside, but scratches on the sides showed where some sort of insignia had been torn off. Only two people rode inside, one of them bound by his hands. Davos’ eyes slowly opened as he woke, and he winced at the pain that ran through his head from the blow to his skull that had knocked him out. Before him sat the woman from the Temple – he remembered that she had called herself Adrianna. She was sitting casually in her leather chair, her dress riding high on her thighs as she spread her well-toned legs. There was little left to the imagination, but Davos focused on her eyes as she stared through the small parting in the curtain. Though she seemed to be absent, he could tell that she was wary. He quickly recognised the look of a seasoned hunter. However secure she was, she wasn’t allowing herself to get complacent. That wasn’t a good sign for Davos. She didn’t seem to be the one to make the sort of mistakes that he’d need to escape. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t betray Belkai. Whatever information she wanted from him, he wouldn’t give.

“You’re awake.” Adrianna didn’t turn as she spoke, her amber eyes locked on the window. She was expecting a pursuit, Davos realised. The carriage wasn’t expected to keep them hidden. His blood ran cold as he realised that he wasn’t there to give information. He was the bait. Belkai. Watch your back, girl.

“Who are you?” Davos asked, letting his head fall back onto the leather seat as he continued to study his captor.

Adrianna’s smile sent a shiver down his spine as she finally turned to face him. It reminded him of a wolf that had finally cornered a long sought after prey.

“We are the curse of the Arcane. We are the Sons of Retribution.”

Davos’ eyes went wide before he could control his shock. Like everyone else, he had heard stories of the Arcane’s chosen assassins. Until now he had assumed that it was simply a myth. “Why were you sent? Svaleta has always served the Arcane.”

“Svaleta means nothing to the ones who sent me.” Adrianna raised an eyebrow, and Davos nodded slowly.

“You are here for Belkai.”

“Correct. Do you know the story of Ashelath?”

Davos frowned. “Of course. A lord of darkness. The Father of Serpents. He rebelled against the Arcane and was banished.”

“And then?”

“And then Belkai killed him.”

Adrianna laughed at this, a surprisingly beautiful sound. Despite himself, Davos knew that in another time and context he would have found her alluring. “So simplistic. You really think Belkai did the Arcane a favour, don’t you?

“When Ashelath was ‘banished’, as you put it, he was restricted to the palace he made for himself. Three Arcane were commissioned to watch over him and keep him in line: Yulen, Belamin, and Falkar.”

Her grin broadened when she saw the realisation in his eyes. “You know something of this?”

“The woman you sent to Narandir, she said that you killed Yulen.”

“She paid the price for her failure to restrain Ashelath. She was the first Arcane that I have killed.”

“Falkar commanded it?”

“Falkar had no say in the matter,” Adrianna said. “Nor did he say anything when my brother and I killed Belamin.”

Only now did Davos realise the true danger that they were in. If the legends were true Belamin had shattered kingdoms, devoured whole islands, and destroyed stars with his divine fire. For him to be killed by a pair of werewolves – there had to be more to them than he’d realised. What are you?

“And Falkar?”

“He is alive. He stands with the one who sent us.”

“And who is that?”

Adrianna gave him a soft smile, and despite himself he felt something stir. She leant in close and whispered, “Nothing for your handsome head to worry itself about.”

Davos felt a stabbing pain in his leg and looked down in time to see her pull the dagger out. Before he could speak, his vision went blurry and he collapsed. Adrianna caught his limp body and laid it across the seats. Now he knew enough to be afraid. His Belkai would sense that. She ran her eyes over his sleeping form and smiled. No wonder the mage was so infatuated with him.

Adrianna closed her eyes and slipped into a dream-filled sleep, her lips parted in a satisfied smile. The carriage crossed the Principality border and turned south, given only a brief glance by the border guards who hadn’t yet been alerted to be on the lookout for a carriage stolen from the Temple of the Sun during its violation.

***

Without any reference point apart from the narrow view of the sky, Echtalon guessed that it was the evening of the twentieth of Nirakos. They had been in this clearing for a long four days. The elves were nowhere to be seen except when they brought meals of fresh fruit and meat – deer, most likely, though Echtalon hadn’t seen any sign of such animals. There were strange noises in the Forest day and night, and Rangir’s nervousness told him that the trees hid a bigger threat than elven guards. Rangir had told them about his company’s battles in the Forest, and Echtalon was wise enough to follow his lead. Faelin, on the other hand, was getting restless. She was a born hunter and despised the thought of eating meat brought to her by others, even those of her own kind. As Echtalon studied the night sky, she made her way over. When she spoke, she didn’t bother lowering her voice. There was no hiding secrets from elves.

“Four days confirms it, General. Twelve guards, as well as whatever creatures are circling us. And they have not stopped tracking us, I can guarantee that.”

Echtalon grunted. “We already knew that there was no way out.”

“You taught me to never give up hope,” Faelin pointed out. “I took that lesson to heart.”

Her senior was about to reply when the trees parted and the Svaletan woman, Loranna, stepped into view. There was a forest elf behind her, whose eyes were locked on Echtalon. Rangir scurried over to the two Aliri and stood with them.

“What’s going on?” the Svaletan asked, seeing the strange look in Loranna’s eyes. She glanced at the forest elf, who cleared his throat.

“My name is Lithmae,” he said. “I am the chieftain of Narandir’s clans.”

He looked Echtalon in the eyes. “As a fellow elf, I ask you to hear Loranna’s words and follow her.”

Echtalon frowned but nodded for Loranna to speak. When she did, there was a surprising firmness to her voice.

“The Arcane sent a force to take Belkai’s husband captive. They mean to draw her out for purposes unknown. I need swords to follow me and give her help without Narandir being officially involved.”

“What is in it for us?” Faelin asked. Lithmae stepped forward, his eyes burning with anger.

“What elf, given the choice between freedom or captivity, hesitates to choose?” he snapped. “When the Palians ruled, so the stories say, the Aliri were the first to rebel. No one could hold them down. Has this generation changed?”

Echtalon put his hand on Faelin’s arm before she could respond. He glanced at Lithmae before saying to Loranna,

“We will follow you. Your scout saved our lives. We owe you this much, at least.”

Faelin looked at him with curiosity, but he squeezed her arm gently. When they were away from the elves, he could speak freely. His dreams of vengeance would remain his own for now. But one way or another, Belkai would pay for her victory at Larton.