“I don’t like your tone.” Kevlin rose to face Terach. “I risked my life to help you.”

“And you endangered our lives bringing us here.”

“I didn’t think the mercenaries would find us.”

“And the Blade Stalwart? You didn’t think we’d like to know about him?”

“I never saw him before.”

“You’ve faced one before, so don’t pretend you know nothing.”

“I know nothing about Dhanjal. I did face a Blade Stalwart once, but it had nothing to do with this. There’s no reason one of their kind should be chasing Dathan.”

“So the mercenaries will follow him and leave us alone?” Ceren asked hopefully.

“No,” Antigonus spoke, surprising them by joining the discussion. “For some reason, they have allied with Rhea, and she will pursue us until she destroys me, or is killed in the attempt.”

“Why is she doing it?” Terach asked.

“She revealed that her master commands it, but I do not know him or his plans. Bajaran was planning to take Tia Khoa to the Sigrun, so perhaps that is her master’s ultimate goal.”

Ceren gasped and Terach’s face drained of color. Haisyl let out a terrified moan and fainted.

Another shiver of fear crawled down Kevlin’s spine at the mention of the Sigrun. Bad enough to think about the shadeleeches without considering the Sigrun council that ruled them. Masters of Sthenic magic, the evil lords of darkness inspired endless tales of horror.

None of those enemies had plagued the Six Kingdoms of the Tamerlane Empire since the last great war. To Kevlin, like many born decades after the last war, the Sigrun had always been more legend than reality.

Not anymore.

Over two hundred years ago, while the empire was young, the combined might of the High Council of sentinels had barely held the Sigrun at bay. The clash of titanic powers had devastated the western border. Mountains had been torn down and all life drained from miles of earth, leaving it a barren wasteland. Bottomless fissures crisscrossed the land like eternal wounds, and poisonous gasses hung like a death shroud over everything.

“You have Tia Khoa with you?” Kevlin asked, thinking of the rune-covered pouch strung around Antigonus’ neck.

“It can never leave my side," Antigonus said. "I see you all understand how grave the situation is. Rhea cannot gain possession of Tia Khoa. The consequences for the empire would be catastrophic.”

He held out his hands to Ceren and Terach, and the two of them dropped to their knees beside him, each clasping a hand. “The prophecy spoke truly. Without Strength and Cunning, I will fail. Believe in yourselves. You were chosen for a reason and must not falter.”

They both nodded. Ceren’s eyes shone bright with emotion. Antigonus held their hands for several heartbeats, then his hands began to glow. The glow spread to the other two, and flared. As it dissipated, Ceren and Terach shared a look of wonder.

“I cannot fully heal myself, but this small gift I can give you.” Antigonus beckoned to Kevlin to approach.

Terach backed out of the way with a glare and Kevlin took his place. Antigonus clasped his hand. “You are bound to me now. You will serve me until I release you.”

“You don’t really have to do that,” Kevlin said. The fewer spells directed at him, the better.

“It is done,” Antigonus said. His cobalt eyes bored into Kevlin’s hazel ones. “Do not fail me.”

“I’ll see you safe wherever you need to go,” Kevlin assured him. As he spoke, an unexpected feeling of purpose flooded through him. For the first time in years, he had actually allied with what appeared to be a worthy cause.

Why did it have to be sentinels?

Terach didn’t want him around, and the thought of Rhea and Dhanjal pursuing them frightened him more than he wanted to admit. Then again, he needed answers that only Antigonus could give. With any luck, they could get Antigonus healed quickly and he could be on his way.

Antigonus settled back and closed his eyes again.

“We have work to do,” Terach said.

“First I need to patch Kevlin’s wounds,” Ceren said.

Under her direction, Kevlin unlatched his armor, dropped the battered leather to the ground, and slipped out of his bloodstained padded jerkin. The slash across his stomach was painful but shallow. The gash on his shoulder was more severe.

Ceren refilled the cup and measured out a few thick drops of the painkilling liquid. It turned out to be very bitter. Muttering to herself, she pulled some waxed thread from her green case along with a wickedly curved needle.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Sit,” she ordered, and he complied with a nervous glance at the needle.

She snorted. It was a singularly unbecoming habit for a pretty young woman, but he decided not to mention it until she finished. “You fought a Blade Stalwart, so don’t tell me my little needle makes you nervous.”

Kevlin held still while she pierced the skin of his shoulder and began efficiently stitching him up.

Terach crouched beside him. “Tell us how you faced Dhanjal like that. You moved like he did, and he said you heard the Song of Savas. What did he mean?”

Kevlin shuddered at the memory, and his muscles tingled with remembered power. But his heart quailed at recalling the loss of control. He hated the feeling of helplessness he felt around magic and those who wielded it.

“I don’t know how it happened. I need to talk with Antigonus about that. Maybe it had something to do with the bloodset.”

Terach considered that. “Perhaps, but how did Rhea’s magic not harm you?”

“I don’t know.” That was an even greater mystery. Kevlin should be dead twice over from her. “Maybe it’s tied to whatever made me hear Dhanjal’s song.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Ceren said with a frown.

Kevlin shrugged. “I know.”

“Keep still.”

“Sorry. It's one more question for Antigonus.”

“What happened the last time you faced a stalwart?” Terach asked, shifting the topic back to painful memories Kevlin didn’t want to think about. “Did you hear the song then too?”

“No, I heard nothing.”

“Then how did you survive?”

Kevlin braced himself against the tide of memories flooding his mind. Memories of battle, of pain, and of love raced past, leaving him grappling with the residue of bitter betrayal that always clung to him like ash. Chayah. The name sent a chill through him. Even spoken within the silence of his mind, it carried such power. Conflicting emotions raged as he thought about her.

“Shaemal.” He grasped that memory to avoid thinking about the rest. “The stalwart’s name was Shaemal. I fought him two years ago.”

“I’ve heard of no Blade Stalwarts hired in the Six Kingdoms over the past couple of years," Ceren said.

How would she know? Few would, but she seemed confident that she should have.

Kevlin said, “I doubt you’d have heard of Shaemal. His presence in Donarr was a secret.”

“Donarr?” Terach asked.

“Aye. Shaemal was plotting with General Stigandr to betray the Donarri.” Kevlin's hatred for the general still burned hot despite the passage of time. “I killed Shaemal before they could set their plot in motion.”

To avoid any more questions, he changed the topic. “Antigonus named you Strength and Cunning. You said he likes assigning nicknames, but it sounds like there's more to it than that.”

Terach did not seem ready to change the topic, but Ceren made the transition smoothly. “It has something to do with an old prophecy he’s always muttering about.”

“He said you were chosen to bear those titles. How? Who are you?”

Terach said, “I am of House Elsdon, stationed at the Imperial Palace in Tamera. I was assigned to accompany Antigonus as Strength. We’d met a few times, and I guess I impressed him.”

“I am of House Iarbonel in Agoraeun,” Ceren said. “My cousin runs the city’s intelligence service, and I work with him.” With a little smile, she added, “At first, Antigonus wanted my cousin to go, but instead he chose me to fill the role of Cunning.”

Kevlin tried not to wince as Ceren jabbed her wicked needle into his stomach. The pieces fit. Terach certainly fought with the skill of the legendary Elite Guard, and Ceren was a noblewoman. Did she actually gather intelligence? Agoraeun was one of the great trading centers of Freyarr, and the city was governed by Lord Baris of House Iarbonel. How were they related?

Ceren continued, “Since it’s Antigonus’ expedition, we decided not to object to the titles. They started rubbing off on us. He’s got one too, you know.”

“What is it?”

“They call him the Catalyst, although he’s only mentioned it once.”

“How is it that Antigonus leads the party?" Kevlin asked. "I’ve never heard of sentinels being given command when imperial troops are involved. Shouldn’t you be leading, Terach?”

Terach nodded. “Normally, yes, but the whole expedition is tied to Antigonus and his prophecy, so he was given permission to lead.”

Bloodsets, Blade Stalwarts, prophecies, and sentinels who wanted to ally themselves with the Sigrun. All better left alone. Could it get any more complicated?

“What about you?” Terach asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“I am Kevlin. Security expert and sometimes mercenary, at your service.”

Ceren snorted again and pulled the waxed cord. He winced, but she continued stitching without looking at all apologetic. Maybe if he punched her in the jaw while she was biting her lip in concentration like that, she'd feel his pain.

“We’ll leave it at that for now,” Terach decided, then rose to his feet. “We’ve already taken more time than we can afford.”

Ceren completed her ministrations, tied off the last stitch, and smeared some of the vile-smelling paste on the wounds before tying bandages over them.

“Do you think they’ll come back soon?” she asked with a glance at the trail.

“Sooner than I’d like. I trailed them close to the highway, where they stopped in a small glade to heal. They’ll be a while. Dhanjal's going to have a hard time keeping Rhea alive. She barely made it that far. It’ll probably be hours before he recovers enough to finish the job.”

“You saw all that? How close did you get?” she asked.

Terach smiled. “They posted two men as lookouts, but they were sloppy.” He pulled a dagger from his belt and tossed it to Kevlin. “Dhanjal was just extracting your knife from Rhea’s ribs, so I brought you one of the guards’. It seems a decent blade.”

Indeed, it was a close match to Kevlin's own, with a good balance and keen edge, and it fit well in the empty sheath.

Terach rose. “Come, we need to find another trail to the highway.”

“Which way should we go?” Ceren asked.

“North.”

She jumped up and placed a hand on his arm. “Terach, Antigonus told us his wound will kill him, and he’s only got a few days left. We're a week south of Diodor.”

“We came from there too,” Kevlin said. “Pushing hard, it still took five days.”

Terach considered the motionless sentinel. “How far is it to Tamera?”

“Probably a little closer than Diodor, But not by much,” Kevlin said.

Ceren said, “Maybe we should head south then. Can we find a stalwart to heal him?”

“Maybe,” Kevlin said with a shrug. “I haven’t passed through this part of Hallvarr in a long time. Every town has a shrine to Serigala, but with the harvest nearly over, the Pemburu Stalwarts will be traveling. Most of the Jagen Stalwarts are concentrated farther north, near the capital and Chandravernan lands.”

“We ride north,” Terach said. “The closest town is Ingolf, and we can be there by afternoon. Hopefully we can find a stalwart.”

Ceren frowned. “What if there aren’t any? It'll take days to reach the next big town.”

“Then pray we get a positive spin of the Wheel."

Kevlin stifled a groan. Calling on Akillik again was the last thing he wanted to do.