Radiance (Wraith Kings Book 1) (3 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Ildiko woke abruptly to a mouthful of horse’s mane and the weight of Brishen’s body smashing hers to the saddle.  The air around her hung thick and dark, and it took her a moment to realize she sheltered with Brishen beneath the dome of his shield.  Something struck the metal with a hammering ring.  Brishen rocked sideways, his arm and shoulder flexing against her side as he absorbed the impact of the blow.

Ildiko clutched the pommel as the animal shied and pranced beneath her.   Another hammer blow struck the shield.  She gasped as she was suddenly swung to the ground and just as quickly encircled by an armored wall of Kai soldiers.  Their armor glinted dull and their eyes shone bright in the dying moon’s fading light.

She yelped as a hand pushed her to the ground.   “Stay down, Your Highness!” a female voice commanded.

Ildiko didn’t protest as a chorus of twangs broke from the trees, followed by a volley of black splinters that arced into the lightening sky before falling toward them.  She crouched, covering her head with her arms.  Metal rang on metal as arrow points struck shield faces.

They were under attack, and what very little she could see from her lowered position behind the barricade of Kai protectors, they were pinned in place, unable to flee or even engage the enemies who sheltered in the trees.

That soon changed.  Horse’s hooves echoed from the forest depths.  They were joined by battle cries and screams of pain.

The road where they stood exploded into chaos.  Men dressed for secrecy and ambush bolted into the open, pursued by newly arrived Kai cavalry in support of their brothers and sisters.  The shield circle around Ildiko broke.  She was jerked to her feet and came face to face with one of the Kai women she’d seen at the wedding.  Brishen had introduced her as his cousin Anhuset.  Those nacreous eyes stared at her unblinking.  “Follow me, Highness.  Step lively.”

Ildiko recognized the voice—and its authority—and sprinted alongside the woman until they reached the supply wagon.

Anhuset tugged her down.  “Under the wagon, Highness.  Stay out of sight and don’t move.”

She didn’t give Ildiko a chance to argue but bodily shoved her beneath the wagon frame.  Ildiko dropped to her stomach.  From her flattened vantage point, she saw mostly running feet.  The Kai woman stayed close and was soon joined by three more of her compatriots.

Ildiko searched for Brishen in the melee as their party, no longer outnumbered, clashed with their attackers.  She glimpsed him fighting back to back with another Kai warrior.  They faced a group of bandits.  Brishen’s partner fought with sword and shield.  Brishen, however, fought as no Gauri nobleman ever would.

He wielded a small bearded axe in one hand and a hunting knife in the other.  The knife’s blunt side was  braced against the line of his forearm, the sharpened edge faced out.  Brishen moved as all his kind did, quick and nimble as a cat.  He slashed and stabbed with the knife, cut and cleaved with the axe, using the beard to hook his opponent off his feet.

Ildiko prayed for his safety, for all their safety.  She abruptly lost sight of him as a wave of bandits rushed her guardians.  Anhuset answered with an eerie war cry.  She and her companions leapt at their attackers.  Ildiko huddled behind one of the wagon wheels and peered between the spokes.

She wanted to help, but she knew nothing of combat and was already a hindrance to those who would guard her.  Except for her eating knife tucked into her belt pouch, she was weaponless.  The best she could do was follow Anhuset’s instructions: stay out of sight and out of the way.

Her heart pounded in her ribs, and she tasted the bitter flavor of fear on her tongue.  She gasped when something grabbed her ankle and yanked.  Ildiko clutched the spokes and stared over her shoulder.  She screamed at the sight of a bandit, filthy, bedraggled and splashed with blood, clawing his way up her skirts.

She kicked at him, managing to clip him in the chin.  He jerked back with a howl before lunging at her a second time.  Ildiko scuttled on her backside and elbows from the wagon’s compromised shelter.

She stumbled to her feet and found herself standing in the middle of the battle.  Her Kai protectors fought and wrestled with the enemy, unaware Ildiko’s hiding spot had been discovered.  She lifted her hem, prepared to run, though she had no idea which way she’d go.  The bandit who had attacked her made the decision for her when he rounded the wagon and stalked her, waving a knife and sporting a leer that promised a gruesome death.

Ildiko pivoted on her heel to flee in the opposite direction.  She never got the chance.  A draft of air buffeted the side of her face and fluttered strands of her hair.  A dull crack sounded behind her, and she turned to watch her stalker fall to his knees, an axe blade sunk deep in his forehead.  His eyes were wide—fixed—as if he didn’t quite believe Death had found him so suddenly, before he fell backward and lay still in the dirt.

Ildiko whipped around to find Brishen running toward her.  He grabbed her one-armed around the waist and lifted her off her feet, never breaking stride as he ran for safety.  “Not the wedding present I intended for you, wife,” he said on shortened breaths.  “I’ll make it up to you later.”

CHAPTER SIX

They lost only three in the attack.  Brishen considered it three too many, and the sorrow over their deaths weighed heavily on his mind.  The first, Kroshag, had been the middle son of the royal family’s steward and one of the first to volunteer under Brishen’s command.  Neima, the second to fall beneath a fatal arrow shot, had obsessed all the way from Haradis to Pricid over the challenge of dowering twin daughters.  Her children would marry without their mother’s presence now.

Brishen grieved hardest for Talumey.  Young, eager to show his worth, loyal to a fault, he’d nearly turned himself inside out with excitement at being chosen as part of the prince’s personal escort to the Gauri capital.  Brishen promised himself he’d personally deliver Talumey’s mortem light to his mother.

He abandoned his melancholy thoughts when Anhuset approached him.  The spread of a blinding dawn backlit her form and bathed the dead behind her in citrine light.

Anhuset’s mouth was set in a tight line, and she stared at him with narrowed eyes.  Brishen leapt back, shocked when she fell to her knees before him.  The activity in the road camp ceased.  All fell silent.

She bowed her head and offered her sword to him with both hands.  “I have failed you, Your Highness.  My life is forfeit as is my mortem light.”  She spoke to the ground in a voice thick with shame.

Brishen gaped at her.  “What are you talking about?”

Anhuset’s head remained bowed, the sword still offered.  “I was tasked to protect the
hercegesé
.  I failed.  Were it not for you, she’d be dead.”

Brishen scowled.  His cousin had obviously tapped into the small cask of spirits stowed away on the supply wagon; otherwise he couldn’t fathom how she’d arrived at such a ridiculous conclusion.  He had been the one who saved Ildiko from her attacker, but through no fault of Anhuset’s.  She was a fighter of exceptional prowess, respected throughout their military forces for her bravery and her skill, but she was not the goddess of war.

She and the two Kai who guarded Ildiko at the wagon had been overwhelmed by the number of bandits attacking them.  They’d fought hard and fought well but were heavily outnumbered.  There was no way Anhuset could have spotted the man sneaking under the wagon without turning her back on her opponents and having her head separated from her shoulders for the effort.

He stared down at her, noting the way her silvery hair shimmered with the light of the sun instead of the moon.  He turned and found Ildiko a small distance from him, sitting on a tree stump, heavy-eyed and slumped with fatigue.  A guard of grim-faced Kai surrounded her, weapons drawn and at the ready.

“Ildiko.”  She raised her head wearily.  “Come here, please,” he said in Common tongue.

She rose, dusted off her skirts and joined him in front of the kneeling Anhuset.  She frowned as heavily at the sight as he had.  “What’s wrong?”

He gestured to Anhuset who still refused to look up from the ground.  “My lieutenant wishes for me to execute her for failing to protect you.”

“What?”

Brishen didn’t need to understand all the finer subtleties of Gauri expressions.  Ildiko’s exclamation was telling enough.  She was aghast at the idea.  He had no intention of killing his cousin, especially for a nonexistent offense, and his was the final word in the matter.  Still, Kai protocol demanded his role in Anhuset’s fate be a secondary, albeit final one.

Ildiko sputtered, her peculiar gaze flitting back and forth between him and the silent Anhuset.  “That’s just sil—”  She clamped her lips closed before she completed the word, for which Brishen was thankful.  He agreed with his wife that Anhuset’s request was silly, but his cousin’s pride was great, and he’d seen her shoulders stiffen at Ildiko’s shuttered remark.

“Anhuset believes she has failed in her duty to me by not protecting you from the man who found you beneath the wagon.”  Brishen kept his voice and expression bland.  “However, the alleged offense isn’t against me.  You are the one most affected by her actions.  What say you?  Do you perceive insult and wish for punishment?”

Ildiko’s eyebrows arched, and she tilted her head in such a way that he easily translated her silent
Are
you serious about this?
  He nodded, and she rolled her eyes.  A mass shudder rippled through every Kai witnessing the exchange between them.

Ildiko paused for several moments before speaking.  “I find no offense.  She did her duty and protected me from those who meant us all harm.  There were many bandits; there was only one Anhuset.”  She flashed an equine smile.  “Who fought better than three Gauri.”

Murmurs of approval and agreement rose amongst the Kai.  Anhuset stood, her chin raised.  Brishen caught the glimmer of growing respect in his cousin’s eyes.  She nudged her sword toward Ildiko.  “I still offer you my sword, Your Highness.”

Ildiko waved it away.  “I’m honored, but that would be a waste of good steel.  You can certainly put it to better use than I could.  I’d likely slice off one of my fingers or toes.  Keep it for when you have to act my guard again.”

Brishen struggled not to grin or pull his wife into her arms.  Skilled as any seasoned diplomat with her words but better than one because she spoke them with sincerity.  She had just paid Anhuset the highest compliment by offering her trust in her ability to protect her in the future.

Anhuset’s haughty features flushed perse-blue with pleasure before she scowled into the distance.  She returned the sword to its sheath and bowed low to both Brishen and Ildiko.  “I’ll coordinate the rest of the camp set-up.  By your leave, Highnesses.”  At Brishen’s nod, she strode away, bellowing orders to get to work, remove the dead, raise tents and set up guard perimeters.

Brishen bent his head as Ildiko leaned close and whispered, “How badly did I muck that up?”

He turned to her fully.  Exhaustion had painted the skin around her eyes a lovely dusky shade.  Whether or not she was beautiful to humans and ugly to the Kai, she had a good mind and a spirit he was growing to admire with every passing second.  “I think you missed your calling, wife.  You would have made a fine ambassador.”

She blinked slowly.  “I’m surprised I didn’t speak pure gibberish.  I’m so sleepy, I can hardly talk.”

She gave a half-hearted protest when Brishen caught her at the back and knees and lifted her in his arms.  “Be quiet,” he admonished her gently.  “You’ve been awake too long.  As have I.”  He deposited her back on her tree stump and ordered a nearby soldier to bring a saddle and blanket.  They had a comfortable backrest set up in no time.  Ildiko reclined against it with an appreciative sigh.  She was sound asleep before Brishen covered her in another light blanket.

He was tired as well.  Except for a few minutes here and there, he hadn’t slept in Pricid since he arrived three days earlier.  Luckily, Mertok’s cavalry had arrived—not only to help them vanquish their foes but also to offer relief so Brishen and his entourage could rest for a few hours.

The rising sun half blinded him, and he squinted as the cavalry captain approached, hooded and cloaked against the daylight.  Mertok bowed.  “Your Highness, I thought we agreed to meet you near this spot tomorrow.  We didn’t think to find you this far down the road so soon.”

Brishen accepted the mild criticism.  The trade road was a dangerous one.  He had been sure the size of their party would deter any ragtag band of thieves intent on stealing trade goods.  The odds grew even higher in the Kai’s favor now that Mertok’s horsemen had joined them to travel the rest of the journey together, swelling their numbers to a small army.

But Brishen had been eager to leave Pricid, and with Ildiko’s encouragement, they’d set out a day earlier than planned.  “My wife wanted to see her new home as soon as possible, so we left right after the banquet.”

He glanced beyond Mertok’s shoulder, watching as the Kai dragged the dead bandits to a spot beyond the camp and piled them into a haphazard heap.  Every one of their attackers had been human, but Brishen suspected none had been Gauri.   He returned his attention to Mertok.  “That was no flock of thieves who attacked us.  Too many and too well armed and organized.”

Mertok reached into the depths of his cloak.  “We started tracking them to the border two days ago.  A raiding party with a message.”  He held out a bauble, its metal flashing in the sun.

Brishen took it and growled.  The royal insignia of Belawat.  He wasn’t surprised; he was infuriated.  The kingdom of Gaur had skirmished with the kingdom of Belawat since Brishen had been a child.  The Beladine wanted the profitable Gauri seaports, and the Gauri had no intention of giving them up.  Full scale war had seemed inevitable, but there was an obstacle—one that made the alliance with the Kai valuable to both sides.

The fastest way to move armies and avoid the treacherous mountains that divided the Gauri from the Beladine was through a narrow passage in Kai territory.  Both human kingdoms knew better than to try and annex the heavily defended tract for themselves.  The Kai had turned a blind eye at first to the smaller skirmishes between the two combatants.  It was no concern of theirs if the humans slaughtered each other as long as they did so on their side of the border.

But Brishen’s father had grown alarmed when scouts reported an amassing of Beladine troops and whispered secrets of a large force preparing to invade Gaur, take its ports, and conquer the Bast-Haradis borderlands along the way.

The trade treaty and war alliance between the Kai and the Gauri had destroyed Belawat’s plans.  They weren’t strong enough to fight two kingdoms allied together.  The Beladine king had promised retribution for the Kai’s interference in human matters.  This raiding party had been the first volley fired.  Kill the younger Kai prince and his Gauri bride.  Send the message that revenge was swift and merciless.

Brishen flipped the insignia in his hand before dropping it into the pouch at his belt.  He eyed the mound of the dead.  “Burn the bodies and all their gear.  Save a jar of the ash.  The Kai will send Belawat a response.”

Mertok gave a short bow.  “Do you wish to perform a consecrative tonight for our dead?”

Brishen nodded.  “Find out who’ll volunteer to serve as Neima’s and Kroshag’s mortem vessels.  I’ll act as Talumey’s.”

Anhuset joined them, and the three made additional plans for the remainder of the journey, agreeing to double the guards during the day and increase their pace if at all possible so they cut their road time by a third.  When they finished, Brishen discovered the tent reserved for him and Ildiko had been erected.

He carried the still sleeping Ildiko inside and laid her down on one of the two prepared pallets.  She murmured softly but didn’t waken when he removed her shoes and unbuckled her out of Anhuset’s extra breastplate.  Brishen didn’t think she’d appreciate him stripping off her clothes while she slept.  He was too tired anyway to figure out the various lacings and knots complex enough to put a pit trap to shame.

She turned on her side away from him and snuggled beneath the blankets he pulled over her shoulder.  Unlike her, Brishen couldn’t sleep in his clothes.  Splattered in both human and Kai blood, he itched to get out of the armor and the gambeson beneath it.

Ildiko didn’t move when he stretched out on the pallet next to her.  His eyelids felt as if someone had attached weights to them, and he soon fell asleep beside her, lulled into repose by his wife’s soft breathing and peaceful form next to him.

He awakened hours later to twilight’s dim haze and the touch of fingertips across his cheek.  He opened one eye to discover Ildiko’s homely face close to his.  She traced the bridge of his nose and the line of one cheekbone.

“You know, except for the gray skin, black nails and the one glowing eye looking at me, I could almost mistake you for Gauri.”  He gave her a sleepy grin.  She paled and frowned at him.  “And then you smile,” she said.  “Bursin’s wings, but that’s a blood-curdling sight to wake up to at any time of the day.”

Brishen chuckled between her fingers as she tried to press his lips closed.  He grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles.  “You won’t exactly be honored as the greatest beauty in all of Bast-Haradis, wife.”  Her red hair haloed her head in a corona of tangles, and her eyes were even more grotesque—the whites threaded with thread-thin filaments of blood.

Her mouth curved upward.  “Thank Bursin for that.  I’ll happily pass the title onto someone else.  Now, if you all want to name me the ugliest woman in the entire Kai kingdom, then I might have to preen a little.”

Brishen attempted to tame her hair by patting it down with one hand.  “You’re considered a beauty by your people.  Why weren’t you married sooner?”

She shrugged.  “You were the most advantageous for a woman of my rank.  My mother was Sangur’s sister.  Had it been my father who was related to him, then I would have been a princess.  But since I was born to the female line of the royal family, I was simply a noblewoman—too high-ranking to marry off to just anyone but not important enough to pawn off to an heir.”

“So they gave you to a spare.”  Brishen said it without rancor.  He was the younger of two sons, and his brother had insured the royal succession six times over and counting with his heirs.  Brishen’s importance for carrying the line had long ago been diminished.  There wasn’t even any requirement that he beget children of his own.  His Gauri bride had simply been a good faith exchange between kingdoms—the post script to a document of alliance.