King of Mist (Steel and Fire Book 2) (12 page)

His advisors had confirmed that this winter was likely to be particularly harsh. Across Vertigon people worked double-time to harvest all the orchard fruits and prepare the bridges for the extra weight of snow that would soon cover them. A steady stream of imports arrived in the city through the Fissure: grain from Trure, fish packed in ice from distant Pendark, textiles and glass from Soole, rare vegetables and meats from Cindral Forest. In exchange, the Fireworkers sent their Everlights, Fire Lanterns, Fire-forged metalwork, and more down to the Lands Below. Smoke billowed over the mountain as they completed their Works.

Von Rollendar continued to cause trouble over the access road he now controlled. Siv had to deal with him by First Snow or risk having a group of tradesmen stuck in the Fissure with their goods. The council meetings weren’t going much better, though. Von grew increasingly bold, and his new alliance with Lord Samanar strengthened by the day. Whenever Siv brought up the road, Von insisted that it was wide open and changed the subject. Siv sent a pair of advisors to check on it, and it was indeed open—at least when his men were there. Lord Morrven claimed that the Rollendar henchmen disappeared whenever the king’s men approached, but he hadn’t yet been able to prove it.

The other access roads grew clogged the closer it got to winter. Tensions heightened on the slopes and among the council members, but most of the nobles didn’t bother looking to Siv to resolve it. They squabbled worse than furlingbirds defending their territory, and he often struggled to get a word in edgewise. He hesitated to trust any of them in case they were behind his father’s murder and the secret army of duelists. The mysterious fighters could swarm like zur-wasps from the caverns at any moment if he crossed the wrong nobleman.

Siv’s continuing courtship of Lady Tull gave him more to worry about. He wished she would just make a decision already. Bolden had started shooting him even dirtier looks than usual, and he was often the first to talk over Siv at the council meetings, which he now attended regularly. Tull must have let slip that she had received another proposal. Siv pretended not to notice Bolden’s barbs and focused on getting the kingdom ready for the snow.

Siv was so busy with his duties that he almost missed the first training session with the new Castle Guard. Dara sent him a note to let him know when the duelists would arrive, and he cleared a few hours from his schedule. He was secretly hoping he’d have time to get in a few bouts with the athletes. Council meetings made him want to stab things more than ever, preferably things he could pretend were Rollendars.

Berg and Dara were already there when he arrived in the western wing of the castle. His old rooms hadn’t changed since he moved up to the king’s chambers. A few of his books were still scattered over the low couch and the simple table. The Fire Gate was cold, though, hinting that the room was no longer in use. He had told Dara to use his antechamber as a headquarters. All the training would take place in his dueling hall because it was more private than the Castle Guard’s courtyard.

Siv shook Berg’s hand and thanked him for coming. Dara looked better than the last time he had seen her, apparently recovered from her head injury. He had offered to let her move into his old room too, but she informed him it would be better for her to stay in the barracks with the others. It made sense, but he didn’t think of her as just another Guard. Dara was different, and she always would be.

He smiled at her and was about to ask her how she was when a young, broad-shouldered man strode into the antechamber.

“Your Majesty.” He snapped off a salute.

“At ease.”

“This is Telvin Jale, Your Highness,” Dara said. “He’s going to help with the swordsmanship training. He was a duelist before joining the army.”

“Is that so?” Telvin? Was this the same Telvin Dara had drinks with the other night?

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said crisply. “I was the top duelist in my school, and I would likely have gone pro if not for the army.”

“I see.” Siv glanced at Dara, planning to make fun of Telvin’s rigid demeanor, and was surprised to find she was looking at Telvin instead of him. Dara always met his eyes. He could count on her to understand what he was trying to communicate with a look or two. Why wasn’t she looking at him now? He turned back to Telvin. Okay, the man wasn’t bad looking, but he was so stiff. Top duelist in his school, was he?

“You’re dismissed, Jale. I need to speak with Berg and Dara alone.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The man strode out to the dueling hall without hesitation. At least he was obedient.

“I thought he could help with training,” Dara said as the door slammed behind the guard. “Are you sure you want him to—?”

“I don’t trust him,” Siv said.

Dara frowned. “He might be able to tell us about Pavorran. We need to find out who’s in on his scheme.”

“There’s something sneaky about that fellow,” Siv said. “Let’s keep what we know about Pavorran between us for the time being.”

“My king, I am thinking this is wise,” Berg growled. “Trust no one.”

“Yeah, trust no one, Dara,” Siv said. Especially muscular young guardsmen who had been
top
duelists at their schools. “I’m going to watch from the balcony. I’ll give you a few minutes to talk to your recruits before I arrive.”

“Good,” Dara said. “We want to show them you’re following their progress. Sponsors often pamper their duelists. We want them to feel like they’re on your team. We’ll need their undivided loyalty.”

“Have you warned them about the stakes?” Siv asked.

“Yes, but I’m not sure they believe me. Those who show up will be prepared to train to kill in your defense, but we’ll need them to understand how serious we are.”

“They could be hurt if we end up needing them like we think we do,” Siv said.

“I know.” Dara looked unafraid. Siv didn’t know what he ever did to deserve having her on his side.

“We will make them ready,” Berg added.

“Okay,” Siv said. “Maybe if we have a little time I can even come down to the dueling floor and join—”

There was a knock at the door.

“Yes?”

“Sire? Apologies for the interruption, but Lady Tull Denmore has arrived to visit with Your Majesty. She wishes to join you in viewing the training.”

“Firelord take . . . Okay, Pool. Tell her I’ll be there in a minute.”

Dara’s eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. “She wants to view the training?”

“I mentioned what I’d be doing today,” Siv grumbled. “She must have decided it would be interesting.”

“Sure,” Dara said. Her expression didn’t give anything away. She saluted and headed for the training floor with Berg. Siv kicked the cold Fire Gate and went to greet Lady Tull. So much for getting to join the duelists. He had been hoping for a respite from the nobility today. Well, if she really wanted to watch the dueling with him, she was welcome to it. It could be a sign she was getting closer to accepting his proposal.

Despite what she’d told the king, Dara feared none of the duelists would turn up. She paced anxiously across the dueling floor while Berg sat in a chair by the washbasin with his large arms folded across his chest. Morning light cut across the smooth stone floor from the four tall windows. The hall felt emptier than usual as they waited for the duelists to arrive.

She had trekked all over the mountain inviting promising athletes to join the elite new dueling squad. She focused on those without patrons and promised that this opportunity would be as rewarding as signing with a sponsor—and it would include free coaching from the legendary Berg Doban. She chose athletes she had known for years, ones with no links to the army or to noblemen who weren’t firmly on the king’s side. Some duelists might stay away because they didn’t want to upset their own coaches, but the prestige of having the King of Vertigon as their patron should attract enough of them.

She paced and paced as the minutes ticked by. No one came. Telvin Jale was doing one-handed push-ups in the corner, but she barely glanced at him. She had decided it would be wise to keep him close due to his connections to the army. And he could help train the duelists if he was as good as he said.

She dropped into her guard stance and did footwork, advancing and retreating across the stone floor. She lunged again and again, counting each one, trying not to stare at the door. What if no one came at all? She couldn’t protect the king alone.

Finally, a full fifteen minutes after practice was supposed to start, the doors opened, and the duelists of Vertigon swaggered into the hall in all their glory.

Oatin Wont was the first to arrive, one of Dara’s closest friends and training partners and the tallest man on the mountain. He strode in, all swinging arms and legs, and stared at the dueling hall with his mouth open. Luci Belling, a young duelist Dara had been friends and competitors with for many years, followed close on his heels, nervously running her fingers through her short bronze hair. They greeted Dara and Berg and then wandered around the elegant dueling hall, eyes wide.

Next to appear was Yuri, a stocky man with a dark-red beard who trained at a rival school. He’d been friends since childhood with Kelad Korran, another of Dara’s close friends. His training partner, Kel’s rival, Rawl, was notably absent. Kel wasn’t here either, but Dara had expected that. She had other plans for him.

“Hiya, Dara,” Yuri said, sauntering up to her. “This is a splendid training space.” He nodded toward Telvin Jale, who was now doing sit-ups. “He in charge?”

“No, that would be me,” Dara said. “Coach Berg will train us, but I’ll command the squad.”

Yuri chuckled. “But you’re a girl.”

“Well spotted,” Dara said dryly. “We’re still waiting for a few others. Feel free to run laps.”

“Sure.” Yuri shrugged and went over to speak to Berg. Oat and Luci were inspecting the practice dummies lined up along one side of the hall.

Then Bilzar Ten, Dell Dunn, Shon the Younger (not to be confused with Shon the Shrieker), and siblings Errol and Tora Feln arrived together, jostling each other as they pushed through the door. They had all dressed up for the occasion, wearing cloaks with their signature colors and carrying their best dueling blades on their hips. Dell Dunn even had a sharpened sword, though the hilt was rusty.

Bilzar Ten was the oldest of the group, well into his thirties. He’d recently had a huge falling out with his sponsors, the Morn brothers, who owned a dueling supply shop. He had both talent and sleek good looks, and Dara was a little surprised he’d chosen to come here when he was surely being courted by other patrons. His breakup with the Morns had apparently been rather explosive. Oat had mentioned something about him hurling Morn Brothers dueling supplies across Stone Market. Another version of the story claimed he had hurled one of the Morn brothers. Perhaps the other sponsors had decided they didn’t want to deal with Bilzar’s drama.

The others were younger than Bilzar, wide eyed and eager. Dara had the most luck recruiting athletes who hadn’t yet established themselves with a patron. This was a big opportunity for them, and she hoped they would be loyal to Siv for years to come.

More and more duelists strode in, eventually forming an unruly line that stretched most of the length of the dueling hall. Dara counted eighteen athletes in total. She stood before them, hand on the fine black hilt of her Savven blade.

“Thank you all for coming,” she said. “We’re here to establish an elite new division of the Castle Guard. If you decide to join us, you will still be able to compete in the duels. You’ll have room and board in the castle barracks and a place to train. King Sivarrion will be your official sponsor. In return, you must swear to protect the Amintelle family with your lives. If you can’t make that commitment without reservations, you should leave now.”

Dara waited. Tora and Errol exchanged meaningful glances but stayed where they were, shoulder to shoulder. The brother and sister had been trying to find a patron who would sign the two of them together for a while now. They needed this. Shon the Younger adjusted the fancifully embroidered cuffs of his coat, hands shaking, but then he was always a little jittery. No one else moved. She had chosen her team well.

“Coach Berg Doban will be our trainer,” Dara continued. Berg heaved himself out of the chair and went to stand beside her, glowering at the athletes. Shon’s face lit up, and he fiddled with his sleeves some more. He’d flitted around from coach to coach for most of his career, but he’d never had a chance to work with Berg before. “Coach Berg will instruct us in the use of true blades,” Dara said. “You must be prepared to draw blood in defense of the king if you join this force.”

A few of the duelists nodded. Luci Belling looked pale, but she stood firm. Young Dell Dunn rested a hand on the hilt of his rusty blade and puffed out his chest. Bilzar Ten rubbed his hands together eagerly. Dara wasn’t surprised that this part didn’t scare them away. Every duelist wondered at one time or another how he or she would do in a bout with real weapons. Now was their chance to prove themselves.

“And the last thing,” Dara said. “You are going to work hard here. This job is not for people who want to laze around the castle. You will attend every practice and stay in peak physical condition. Slackers will be cut from the squad without notice. I need your final answer about whether you wish to join us by the end of this practice session. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dell Dunn shouted.

“Can we get started already?” Yuri called.

“Drop your gear and warm up.” Dara gestured toward the balcony. “By the way, the king may come in to watch our training. I’ve told him you’re all good duelists, so don’t embarrass me.”

“You got it, Nightfall,” Oat said.

A few of the others chuckled. Dara grinned. They were a motley bunch, but they were her army. Siv’s army. She would make sure they didn’t let him down.

Siv gritted his teeth as Lady Tull leaned over to speak to him for the tenth time. He was trying to watch the exercises, but the dueling didn’t hold Lady Tull’s interest.