Fate of an Empire (Talurian Empire Trilogy Book 1) (8 page)

“The sun rises
in two hours. We need to know what that group is up to,” He stated, more
talking to himself than the soldier. “They haven’t tried anything all night.
Something will give soon.”

“Private, return
to the command post and report any change, however small or insignificant.”

“Yes, sir.”
Galro saluted, and took off at a brisk jog.

I need to
talk to Saris.

Rurik made his
way across the courtyard to the ramp leading to his chambers. He reached Saris’
room and found only one of his guards standing outside the door.

“Where are the
others?” he asked.

“They are with
the General. He went to check on his son.”

“Very well,”
frustrated, Rurik left to search for his superior.

After
questioning a few different slaves inside the eastern wing, Rurik learned Saris
was making his way to the marble garden—a large, densely planted garden
arranged around antique, marble sculptures. It sat behind the artists’ pavilion,
located off the eastern wing.

Rurik made his
way back to the other side of the building.

A canopy-draped,
open-air walkway took him down into the center of the garden. Even with smoke
in the air and darkness keeping the blooms at bay, the smell of fragrant roses,
lilies, and pungent freesia teased his nostrils. A smile forced its way onto
his face.

Rurik heard no
voices and saw no sign of the General. He decided to check by the dolphin
fountain, back through the ivy columns. The closer he got, a soft melody became
louder.

Then, he saw
her.

Taking slow,
graceful steps, she spun about in the hazy moonlight. Her dark curls falling onto
her shoulders, twirling about as she moved, landing on her porcelain skin. She
hummed a soft lullaby and carried a small baby wrapped in a blanket.

She is
beautiful.

He was
mesmerized by the woman, he yearned for her. Such strong emotions gave way to
conflict within him; how could he have such strong feelings for a woman with
whom he had never spoken? He instinctively moved behind a pillar, inching his
head around, as if afraid to spook a deer.

What was
her name? Is that her baby? Have I looked upon a woman whose heart belongs to
another?

A shadow moved
against the wall behind her.

Someone is
coming.

“There you
are!” shouted a strong, authoritative voice.

Who dares
speak to a woman in that manner? Let alone…her.

She bowed
stiffly, “The baby needed to be away from the noise of the crowds. He has just fallen
asleep.”

Rurik edged
forward, convinced that this was her arrogant, controlling husband, and she had
played her part as the submissive wife, apologizing for taking care of their
own
child!

“I am sorry,”
responded the man, he sounded apologetic, but the sound of trickling water from
the fountain masked much of the voice. “Amira, I thank you for watching over my
son tonight—”

So it’s not
her son…

“—something
might happen soon, with the men outside the gates. They will surely try to take
the Keep at first light. I would like you to go with my personal guards. There
is a secret exit from the city. You can camp in the foothills to the south
until this is over. They are prepared to leave.”

A military
man? Personal guards?

Rurik walked
out to find Saris standing close to the woman. He quickly hid his surprise and
cleared his throat.

The General
turned his head, “Oh! Rurik, do you have news?”

He spoke
with softness in his voice. Was it the presence of this woman, Amira?

Rurik nodded a
courtly hello to the woman and then a quick salute to the General, “Sir, there
is news of—”

Is she
smiling at me?

“of…” edged
Saris, rolling his hands in the air.

“of… a small
group of soldiers separating from the larger group. They are headed toward the
outer gates of the city. And I thought you should know… you
wanted
to
know of anything unusual.”

Rurik waited
for a response, stiff with nerves within her angelic presence.

Saris seemed
to be looking past him.

“What is it?”
Rurik asked. He turned to match Saris’ gaze and saw a man atop one of the
buildings waving a torch above his head.

“Get that man
down from there!” Saris shouted to the guards along the walls while motioning
for his personal guards to take Amira away.

Moments later,
a loud horn echoed from outside the walled Keep, originating in the city.

Rurik ran out
of the garden, grabbing every soldier he passed, “Ready for battle!”

Dageros’ eyes
burned through the smoke and darkness like a blazing sun. He blew on the horn till
his eyes watered.

Ceth… Come
back. This is for something bigger than us!

He was the
sole remaining attacker, having failed to stop the Kitamite warriors from
leaving.

There were
flammable barrels of oil placed around the Keep, enough to disorient the
Talurian troops and give Kaillum a chance to escape. They needed to be set off
at the same time, which meant he needed to make functioning copies of himself
and get rid of the thousands of copies that were fooling the soldiers inside
the walls.

I have to
do it!

He shut his
eyes and pulled the small shards of life from all around the city, back into
his own body. The wind swirled around him; moving energies pulsed through the
air. Once done, he felt more complete than he had in many, many hours. He was
whole again, if only for a moment. He quickly made ten new copies of himself.
They knew what to do, being born of his own body and mind, extensions of
himself.

Soon the city
would again be aflame.

*
* *

Rurik rushed
up the stairs to the command post atop the northern gate. There stood Gleb and
private Galro in the midst of a group, ordering soldiers out along the wall,
preparing to defend the Keep.

This slave is
different. He doesn’t have a crushed spirit like the majority of his people. He
is confident and smart. And Galro, I must remember him when I have some ability
to reward his diligence throughout this ordeal.

Rurik walked
over to the two men, “How does it look?”

“A minute ago,
all of the enemy soldiers vanished. They didn’t walk away; they didn’t use any
kind of smoke cover trick… They just disappeared,” answered Gleb, staring out
at where the enemy had been.

The people
sealed outside were awake and noticing the absence of the enemy that had
surrounded them for almost a full day.

“Do you think
this has something to do with the group that we spotted leaving?” questioned
Galro.

“I have no
idea, but something isn’t right. The druid mentioned they might be using magic,
and
if
magic is being used… anything is possible.” Rurik walked along
the edge of the wall, looking down at the people outside. “They need to stay near
the wall. Warn them not to move back to the city.”

As the words
came out of his mouth, hot flames leapt into the sky.

Buildings
exploded and flaming timbers hurled into the courtyard. Fire spread through the
crowd, igniting tents and blankets. The ring of fire blazed all the way up to
the walls of the Keep. The soldiers along the top jumped back from the edge.
Screams echoed from the people below. The sudden inferno was burning them alive.

*
* *

Captain Arteus
and the army had been in view of the smoke trail for hours. And then, minutes
from sunrise, they heard the explosions and shielded their eyes as a blinding
light encompassed the city. As the soldier’s vision slowly cleared, they saw
the city of Hillsford ignited in a blazing hellhole.

“We must
hurry!” Arteus roared.

The caravan
jolted forward, moving faster than the Captain thought possible. The wagons,
pack mules, and siege engines slowly fell behind, but the foot infantry and
mounted lancers surged forward, hoping to arrive in time to help their Empire’s
city and save their trusted General.

“Sir,” A
mounted scout rode up alongside the Captain, “There is a group of men
abandoning the city and traveling northeast. They don’t look to be of any
regular tribe, and definitely not any of our soldiers, possibly part of the
attacking forces.”

Arteus was
quiet in thought for a moment, “Lancers! Form up on me!”

“Lieutenant Eliom!
Continue on to the city with the rest of the soldiers.” Arteus rode off after
the retreating forces while more than one of the remaining Honor Guard Captains
complained about his decision in giving command to the Lieutenant.

*
* *

“No!” Dag
shouted into the air, falling to his knees. “There wasn’t supposed to be that
big of an explosion! What have I done?”

It was
supposed to distract them, and give us a chance to escape… all those poor
innocent people.

Dageros sat,
kneeling on the ground, fire burning around him. The blast had thrown him from
his vantage point. He landed hard on a pile of splintered debris. Cuts and
bruises riddled his body, and a handful of sharp woodchips protruded from his
back.

Please be
alright, Kaillum…Come out to me.

*
* *

Kaillum jumped
from building to building, running along the rooftops. When he signaled his
friends, he hadn’t expected such a destructive response. Now, he was being
chased by numerous Talurian troops. The same Corporal that had been in the
courtyard, whom Kaillum now believed to be Rurik, spotted him from a garden behind
the eastern wing of the Keep.

I can’t be
captured. I need to find Saris.

Reaching the
end of the buildings, Kaillum nimbly leapt from the rooftop, grabbing hold of a
nearby tree. He spun around and jumped back into the building’s top floor,
through an open window.

His rough
landing turned into a run as he sprinted through numerous rooms, trying to find
a way down to the lower floors. He needed to get into the main courtyard. Saris
would be there
or
the command center at the northern gate. Either way,
he had to get out of this building without being arrested or, worse, killed.

Kaillum had
heard rumors of the tortuous protocol the Talurians’ practiced toward hostages.
Finally, he came to a spiraling staircase that led down to every floor. He was
seven stories up.

Practically
jumping down the flights of stairs, he reached the bottom and burst through the
front door, startling some Harmite slaves sneaking a break from their chores
during the distraction in the city. Kaillum gave them a slight nod and a big
sheepish grin as he ran off down the middle of the street.

The crowded
courtyard came into view. It had taken a lot of damage from fire jumping over
the walls, but outside was a firestorm. If the winds didn’t die down soon,
floating embers would soon catch the rest of the buildings on fire.

People were
running in all directions, dousing their burning clothes and belongings with
water from the well. Then, he spotted the General, leading a woman holding a
baby into a building adjacent to the barracks, closely followed by six guards.

Where are
you going...?

 Two of the
guards stopped at the door, blocking anyone else from entering. Kaillum decided
it was time to use his powers. The Corporal would be allowed to enter, he
carried a higher rank.

Did Saris’
guards even care about rank? I have to try.

He ducked
behind a pile of crates. Being out of sight, he placed his hands, palms open, on
either side of his head. He closed his eyes, and after a moment they shot open,
showing the bright glowing eyes of his race. His body shook and contorted,
falling to the ground.

Almost
over.

After an
extremely long moment, he lay still on the hard packed dirt, his body finishing
the transformation. He slowly got to his feet and looked at his new body, even
the uniform had shifted to that of a Corporal in the Talurian army. Satisfied
with his new disguise, he slipped back into the crowd.

Thandril flew
through the rest of the night and reached the city shortly after Arteus’
caravan. He circled the city in bird form, peering through rising vapors, in
search of any sign of the magic user that he had been warned of.

The advantage
of surprise would play handily in spotting the imposter.

He watched Saris
enter the barracks, accompanied by the nurse from his late wife’s labor and
delivery. His Master seemed to be taking a liking to the young woman, putting
on his best manners around her, well; the best manners a man like Saris could
show. Thandril noted the barracks had been evacuated before the General took up
shelter inside, and now two of his guards watched the main door.

Who would
even be allowed to enter?

He seemed well
protected where he was, unless the intruder was in disguise as one of his
personal guards, or better yet, the very nurse he was trying to woo, neither of
which he would be able to determine from the air. He needed to land.

The courtyard
was in complete disarray. Once spotting a lull in foot traffic, he darted
toward the ground, shifting his body seconds before impact. He landed on his
feet, perfectly falling in step with the mob.

As Thandril
made his way toward the barracks, he noticed Rurik heading in the same
direction.

He should
be warned of the intruder as well.

“Rurik!”
Thandril shouted over the heads of the crowd.

Rurik didn’t
respond to the call.

Maybe he
didn’t hear him.

“Rurik!” He
yelled out again—and again, no response.

Rurik reached
the barracks ahead of him, but the guards looked like they were not allowing
him to enter either. Saris most likely gave them strict orders.

“It’s okay,
men.” Thandril approached the entranceway and put his heavy arm around Rurik,
“He is with me.”

“Lord
Thandril, Saris gave us strict orders to not let anyone inside,” stated one of
the guards.

“You know I’m
not just any person,” Thandril responded, “I’ll take care of anything if he is
angry.”

Without
waiting for the young soldier to object a second time, Thandril pushed past
him, pulling Rurik in after him.

Rurik gave Thandril
a grateful look, “Thanks for that. I didn’t know if I was ever going to be able
to get in here.”

“No thanks are
needed. Some of those soldiers let the prestige of being in service to the
General fill their minds with grandeur. They think they can boss everyone
around. You outrank all of them.”

The two walked
in tandem through the open halls of the garrison. Rurik remaining silent.

“Corporal, I
need to warn you. There is the possibility of an intruder and they have the
ability to take the shape of another man—or woman. He is under orders to kill
the General and his son. We must be on high alert.” Thandril observed Rurik’s
demeanor stiffen at the news and, a barely noticeable, flash of golden light
blink across his eyes.

“Oh really? We
haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary. But, when I get back to the command
center, I will pass the word around,” Sweat started to bead across Rurik’s
brow, “It sure is warm in here with all of the heat pushing in from outside.”

“Indeed.”

They rounded a
corner and entered a long, narrow hallway with many doors leading into
different rooms.

“So how is
your brother doing? Is he healing up nicely after that nasty stomach wound?”
Thandril asked.

“Yes, the
doctors say he should make a full recovery in a couple of weeks,” Rurik
replied, holding a paper-thin confidence in his voice.

“That’s interesting
since you buried him in the camp up north.”

A widening of
eyes. A twitch of the hand.

It's him.

The imposter
reached for his sword, but the Thandril was faster, shoving him against the
wall, pushing the air from his lungs. The imposter doubled over. Thandril
followed with a heavy strike to the temple of the man’s skull, dropping him to
the ground.

Thandril reached
down to pick him up.

The fake Rurik
slipped a concealed dagger from his boot, jabbing it into Thandril’s thigh.

Thandril
didn’t even flinch from the unexpected strike and grabbed the man’s hand which
clutched the dagger, crushing the bones like a clump if dirt. He lifted the
screaming man into the air, his cries shortening as Thandril’s fingers
tightened around his throat. Pinning him against the wall, Thandril began his
hasty interrogation.

“Who sent
you?” Thandril yelled.

The changeling
twisted his lower body, trying to break free, repeatedly kicking at Thandril’s
legs.

“What the hell
is going on out here?” Saris emerged from a doorway, five yards down the
hallway. Upon seeing the struggle, he started shouting. “Thandril! What has
gotten into you?”

The assassin
took the momentary distraction and slipped into the figure of Saris and joined
in with the yelling, desperately trying to throw the situation off.

The General’s
mouth dropped open.

Taking
advantage of the surprising transformation, the fake Saris ripped one of his
arms free and chopped Thandril in the neck. The druid faltered only slightly
but held his grip firmly on his prey.

“Who or what
the hell is that?” said Saris.

“This man was
sent here to kill you, Master,” Thandril replied. His jaw was clenched,
focusing on detaining the shapeshifter.

Suddenly the
captive’s eyes burned bright gold, throwing strands of light across the
barracks walls. His arms and legs grew longer and thicker, till he was soon
standing even with the seven foot, tall druid.

“Let’s see how
strong you are against someone your own size!” He roared out, yanking
Thandril’s hands off of him and then threw him back against the opposite wall.

An exact copy
of Thandril stood panting, readying for his next move.

He stepped
forward, landing a solid blow to Thandril’s chest. Without missing a beat, he
followed with a knee to his stomach, causing the giant soldier to fall to the
ground.

He turned and pointed
to General Saris. “Now you!”

“I can’t
wait.” Saris pulled his sword, gesturing him to charge.

The
impersonator pushed off of his right foot, speeding like an arrow at the aged
warrior. Saris raised his sword to meet the intruder with a fatal strike, but the
attacker was too fast and easily dodged the attempt. He countered Saris with a
swift kick, knocking the General to his knees.

Thandril rose
to his feet. “Hey!”

He turned his
head, smiling, “Want a little more? I am quite enjoying this body of yours.”

Thandril moved
closer, “You might have my strength… But you don’t have my
power
!”

He clenched
his arms down to his side. His veins and muscles tightened.

A roaring
shout sent ripples of energy through the air.

The fury of
wind blew the fake Thandril fifteen feet down the hall. The imposter crashed
into the far wall, brickwork crumbling around him as he slid to the floor. His head
slumped forward.