Kevlin marched through the halls of the Emperor's Palace at the rear of the emperor's retinue. The new breastplate chafed against his shoulders under his crimson-and-white surcoat emblazoned with the seal of the emperor's personal guard.
He'd spent a restless night after leaving the Sentinel Tower, and his dreams were plagued by faceless assassins. The Mindlink training had proved more difficult than he'd expected. The concepts were complex and he never would have succeeded had Harafin not recommended he appeal to Tia Khoa. The stone had illuminated his understanding, and he'd finally grasped the concepts.
Now he struggled to focus, his thoughts straying back to the lesson. It didn't help that he hated guard duty. Guarding the emperor was even more boring than guarding low-life merchant smugglers.
At least they were walking now. His eyes had glazed during the mind-numbing hours the emperor sat listening to petitions. Now he and most of the ambassadors were heading for the council chamber to review heightened security measures. Ambassador Damarist had excused himself, while the aged King Tamar who served as his nation's ambassador, withdrew to rest.
The remainder of the company proceeded quickly through the halls of the Imperial Palace. Everyone made way for the emperor, and the guards stationed regularly along the halls ensured the way remained clear. Even as they walked, the ambassadors began arguing about the costs of the adopted measures, and how to pay them.
Beside Kevlin marched the captain of the emperor's personal guard. Named Belenus, the man bore a striking resemblance to Terach, the man Antigonus had chosen as Strength, who had died defending Antigonus from Dhanjal. His build was the same, although Belenus' black, close-cropped hair bore streaks of gray and his eyes were brown instead of blue. Like many of the elite Tamarri soldiers, Belenus bore a Pala strapped to his back. The long-handled, single-edged sword was their signature weapon.
He thought back to the memory of Terach kneeling on the floor, impaled by Dhanjal's scimitar. Again he saw the light of life fade from the brave soldier's eyes, again watched as Terach's blood burned from photophor powder.
Terach's death still disturbed him. Kevlin and Ceren had been forced to leave Antigonus behind and barely escaped with their lives. So many deaths had resulted from that failure. At least Dhanjal's had been one of them.
Belenus did not speak much as they followed the obese Meinarri ambassador, Duke Gwyre, who had fallen behind the rest of the company. The huge ambassador sweated profusely and panted as he tried to hurry along.
The emperor and the other ambassadors were so caught up in their discussion, they didn't notice. Kevlin wondered if the fat man would collapse. What would they do? Would Captain Belenus insist they carry him?
It'd take a dozen men. Kevlin silently urged the fat man to keep his feet.
Captain Belenus had made it clear that he didn't welcome Kevlin and his brothers' temporary assignment to the emperor's guard. "I don't care who you are," the captain had said during their briefing. "Better men than you have trained for years to qualify for this post."
"Trot a few of those better men over here," Jerrik had growled, "and we'll see if they're ready."
Drystan had intervened before the argument turned into a brawl. "We're here on the emperor's orders, Captain. We'll follow your lead, and you can even pretend we're your regular guard. But we have a mission to do and expect you to stay out of our way."
"Endanger the emperor, and I'll remove your head."
Drystan had only smiled, his eyes sparkling with eagerness for battle.
"If you lot did your job right the first time, we wouldn't have to come clean up your mess," Jerrik added.
That had nearly started a fight, but Captain Belenus showed discipline, if not grace.
Colonel Gabral, the final member of their five-man team, had stood a little apart from the rest of the group. He finally spoke. "Enough. You're acting like children. Do your job Captain, and let us do ours."
Now Kevlin strode beside Captain Belenus in an uneasy silence at the rear of the group. Belenus had lost a lot of good men to that curse. Kevlin understood too well the anger a good leader felt when men under his command died.
Drystan and Jerrik, assigned as point guards, led the group into a large atrium at the junction of four halls. The path circled a small garden, complete with an oval-shaped pool and a spraying fountain. A pair of apple trees hunched under a heavy load of ripe fruit, and three white ducks splashed in the water. High above, at the peak of the vaulted ceiling, a circular window let in a brilliant shaft of bright golden light.
As the group reached the small garden, Drystan raised a hand to signal a halt.
"Why are we stopping?" the emperor asked.
Drystan pointed to the hall ahead. Beyond the small garden, eight soldiers dressed in the colors of the emperor's guard marched into the room in a double file.
"Are we expecting an escort?" Drystan asked.
"No," Captain Belenus said from where he and Kevlin still lingered at the rear of the party with the obese Ambassador Gwyre.
Echoing footsteps announced more soldiers, who marched out of the halls to either side. Still more approached from behind. Every group was identical, with eight soldiers in double file, marching in step.
As the four groups converged on the emperor's party, Jerrik called out, "Stand down, soldiers, and clear the way."
The soldiers continued their advance. They made no threatening moves, but they didn't have to. This situation was all wrong.
The main party bunched together near the pond, with Gabral in front. If only Ambassador Gwyre had caught up. He'd stopped as soon as everyone else did, and remained a good ten paces apart from the others.
Kevlin was tempted to kick his ample behind. Did the fat between his ears not register that they were in danger?
Jerrik shifted left, while Drystan took the right flank. Kevlin turned to watch the men approaching from behind. Four of them bore wide shields, which was uncommon in the palace.
The emperor called out, "Who is your commander?"
A grizzled-looking fellow with steel-gray hair saluted from the first company. "I command, Your Imperial Majesty. We are here to provide additional protection. There is unrest in the palace."
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"There," Ambassador Janezeko from Freyarr said with a smile, as if he had just won an argument. "No need for your overly developed sense of caution today."
As the groups converged on the emperor's party, Captain Belenus shouted, "Ware! These are not my men."
Pandemonium shattered the tranquil atrium.
Soldiers charged from every direction, and the air filled with the wicked hiss of swords ripped from sheaths. Four soldiers from the right-hand column raised crossbows and fired on the emperor's party.
Drystan leaped in the way, his spinning spear deflecting three of the bolts wide. The fourth slammed into his shoulder, punched through his light chain armor, and sank deep into his shoulder.
On the left flank the soldiers had advanced closer, and they charged Jerrik from mere feet away. He bellowed his own battle cry, threw his arms out wide, and leaped into the double column. He slammed into the charging rank like an angry bull and plowed right over the first four soldiers.
Most of the company fell in a heap with Jerrik in the center. Fists and daggers flashed from all sides as the fight degenerated into a wild brawl.
Kevlin drew his own sword and moved to face the shield-bearing soldiers charging their rear.
Captain Belenus shouted, "Hold them off!"
Instead of flanking him like he should have, Belenus left Kevlin to stand alone while he moved to intercept three soldiers who had slipped past Jerrik's wild brawl.
Kevlin bit back a curse. Facing disciplined shield-men alone without a shield of his own, left him at an extreme disadvantage. If he didn't slow their charge, they'd run right over him and fall upon the emperor's party.
So Kevlin charged to meet them.
Battle lust swept through him and he shouted his defiance and fear. Finally, someone to hit.
He focused all his pent-up frustration into a lunge at the left-most of the leading pair of soldiers, and slashed his sword just above the top of the man's shield. The soldier responded too slowly, and Kevlin's blade slashed his eyes. The man screamed and staggered.
Kevlin kicked at the bottom edge of the shield of the man's partner, which the man had shifted to strike at Kevlin's unprotected side.
Kevlin connected first. His foot drove the bottom edge of the shield into the man's kneecap and snapped the knee back with an audible pop. The soldier lurched to the side, and Kevlin slammed the hilt of his sword into the man's helmeted head. The soldier dropped like a stone.
Kevlin retreated a step and glanced around to see how the rest of the company was faring.
Not so good.
Unable to wield his long spear single-handedly, Drystan had thrown it at one of the crossbowmen. The man lay dead with the spear driven through his throat.
As Kevlin turned to look, other soldiers threw a net over Drystan. He struggled to throw it off, but the men leaped on him with clubs and drove him to the ground with heavy blows to his torso.
Jerrik was still brawling with half a dozen men, and blood flowed freely from the group. Kevlin couldn't tell how much of it was his brother's, but he cringed to see it.
Gabral had moved forward to intercept the company charging through the small garden. He had drawn the Mace, which started to burn with blue fire, and he hefted it and beckoned the soldiers on.
Instead of closing with him, three of them threw small pouches that struck his armored torso and exploded into clouds of white powder. Gabral cursed and swiped at his eyes. He swung the Mace in wild arcs, but the powder temporarily blinded him and the soldiers skirted around him and charged toward the emperor's main party.
Captain Belenus had engaged three soldiers who had slipped around Jerrik. He dropped two of them with lightning strikes of his Pala, but the final soldier withstood him for critical seconds. Four knife-wielding soldiers charged past the entangled Drystan and leaped at the fat Ambassador Gwyre, who had finally tried to join the rest of the group.
Kevlin needed to stop the six soldiers facing him. No one would come to his aid. If he failed, more ambassadors would die today.
Suddenly a boring guard duty sounded wonderful.
"Come on!" He raised his sword, preparing to charge.
A soldier without a shield stepped out of the file. He carried a coiled whip. It flicked out with amazing speed and curled around Kevlin's ankles. The soldier yanked before Kevlin could sever the whip.
Kevlin stumbled, but regained his balance. Then the lead soldier lunged and shield-bashed him in the face, knocking him off his feet.
Two soldiers ran past him toward the emperor's party. Half-blind from pain and blood that ran into one eye, he slashed wildly at them. His sword bit into one of their legs and the man screamed.
Then the others leaped on Kevlin with clubs and began beating him. His breastplate absorbed most of the blows, but he caught one heavy strike to the side of the head, and his vision blurred.
He twisted under the weight of his attackers, but lacked purchase to fight them off. His thoughts became fuzzy, but he wondered why they didn't just kill him. Instead, many hands grabbed him and began dragging him away.
As he struggled, he caught sight of the rest of the battle. Two soldiers had leaped upon Ambassador Gwyre and plunged their daggers repeatedly into his fat torso. Blood spurted wide and he screamed and beat futilely against them.
Even as the obese ambassador fell, Captain Belenus charged in with a dazzling double slash that decapitated one attacker. Two others appeared, and he dropped them in their tracks. The last attacker shouted in victory and withdrew his bloody dagger from the ambassador's chest.
Then he shuddered and slowly toppled to the side. Behind him, Ambassador Janezeko stood clutching his own bloody dagger.
Beyond Janezeko, four other attackers had reached the emperor's party. The trim Ambassador Talamantez from Einarr and the hulking Ambassador Kescog from Donarr pushed the emperor behind them.
Kevlin twisted harder to watch, unable to tear his eyes away, even though he wanted to vomit. These men would be slaughtered before his eyes, men he was responsible to protect. He and his brothers had failed, and the entire company was about to be overrun.
He forgot these two were raised as warriors, not diplomats.
Ambassador Talamantez twisted past one sword, chopped the attacker's hand, and stripped the sword out of the man's numbed fingers. He clobbered the surprised attacker with the hilt, then slashed the throat of a second attacker.
Beside him, Duke Kescog blocked a heavy blow with one meaty forearm. The sword bit deep and blood gushed down his arm, but he ignored the wound and punched the man in the face. The blow drove the man into the ground where he lay motionless.
Ambassador Kescog scooped up his sword and stood side by side with Ambassador Talamantez. He shouted and beckoned several attackers on, but they hesitated.
In that second, Gabral raised the Mace high and its brilliant blue flame rolled down over him. A wave of fire exploded out of the mighty weapon and incinerated everything within ten feet of him in a blinding flash of deadly fire. Four soldiers caught in the blast died with their flesh boiled right off their bones, leaving them little more than smoking piles of charred meat.
With a final swipe to clear his eyes, Gabral pointed the Mace at one soldier who had circled the group and now leaped at the emperor, sword raised. The long top spike of the Mace fired off and slammed into the attacker's back, driving him to the ground at the emperor's feet.
Gabral charged several attackers, cursing loudly. He ignored their feeble attempts to strike him and smashed them to the ground with heavy blows of his enchanted weapon.
At the same time, Jerrik surged to his feet in the middle of the brawling fight he'd been entangled in, shedding opponents like water. Roaring like a berserker, he picked up one attacker and threw the man across the room into the gang of men trying to drag Drystan away.
The hapless fellow crashed into the group and they all fell in a heap. Drystan untangled himself from the net and staggered to his feet. Although bruised and battered, he drew one of his long-knives from the sheath on his back. As his attackers regained their footing, he attacked.
Drystan moved through their ranks like a cyclone, the silvered steel of his long-knife flashing in the golden morning light. Men tried to intercept him, or tried to escape. None were successful. He shouted no battle cry, made no threats or curses.
He just killed them all.
With the tide of battle turned, the remaining soldiers broke and fled. The four men dragging Kevlin dropped him and ran.
Kevlin untied his ankles, scooped up his sword, and gave chase. He staggered like a drunkard for the first few steps, but battle fury boiled away his pain. He sprinted after the fleeing attackers, hungry for the chance to beat them to death.
Behind him, Emperor Tegnazian shouted, "Colonel Gabral, take some of them for questioning."
Kevlin grimaced. Hopefully Gabral would capture a few. He didn't intend to leave alive any of the ones he chased.
The men fled like deer down the hall and around a sharp corner. Kevlin charged after them, shouting curses. He rounded the corner and skidded to a halt. All four of them hung suspended in a shimmering wall of blue light, like flies trapped in honey-coated paper.
Beside the wall stood the fat Sentinel Felix. "What's all this, then?"