Sworn To Defiance (25 page)

“Thank you.” Ciardis said.

Then the woman turned to the men. “You louts! Fetch the young master griffin and his father their meals.”

The men had been too entranced watching Ciardis accept a servant’s meal. Three of them scrambled into what Ciardis assumed was the larder and came back with some very meaty bones. One carried one over to Skarar and two bore the weight of the much larger one to Skarar’s father. Ciardis blinked. It looked like they had brought the whole skinned leg of a cow to Skarar’s father. Whatever Skarar had was of a different beast. But they ate them the same—by tearing into the flesh with their sharp beaks and ripping off shreds that they chewed contently.

Ciardis gulped, fought the urge to turn green, and refocused on her own meal. Grateful that it was cooked and nicely prepared. She tucked into her meal with gusto, ravenous after she realized she realized she had gone a full day without eating. When she polished off one bowl, even gnawing off the softened edges and asking for seconds, the serving woman’s tense shoulders finally relaxed.

She provided Ciardis with no further protest and an approving look.

After she finished Ciardis stood and thought about going to find her friends. She knew she had a half-hour before they were supposed to meet the emperor before dawn.

At that moment Sebastian’s voice echoed in her mind.
Ciardis? I looked for you in your chambers and didn’t find you.

I’m eating breakfast in the lower quarters.

Amusement colored his thoughts.
You know they will bring you your meals, yes?

Yes,
she said, unwilling to admit she had known no such thing.

Well, if you’re ready we’re gathering in the courtyard.

We?

Lord Meres, Lady Terris, Thanar, Vana, and I.

I’ll be right there,
she assured him.

Ciardis was grateful she’d worn a full cloak and tunic today. The meal had been wonderful but a tad too filling. She knew her belly was poking out in protest.

But she wouldn’t trade her full tummy for anything. Especially after seeing what the Sanctuary victims had gone through and even just the soldiers up north. Having a good meal was nothing to be ashamed about.

Looking down at her griffin companions who were still gnawing on their meals, she said fondly, “Well, gentleman, I must take my leave.’

Skarar’s father was respectful enough to raise his bloody beak from his meal and nod to her solemnly.

“Safe journey,” he said.

“And you, my feathered friend,” she said.

Skarar flat out ignored her. Ciardis chuckled as she walked out. She liked a griffin who knew where his priorities lay.

C
iardis quickly exited the kitchen and threw decorum aside. She ran through the palace halls to get outside in record time.

As she burst through the outer doors, the convening group turned to her with smiles on their faces. Ciardis stood on the steps and stared down at them, a half-smile on her face as the breezy wind pushed back her hair and cloak to have them both flap in the wind. It was peaceful and pleasant. She knew the serene nature wouldn’t last, so she savored it.

Walking down the steps at a slower pace, she reveled in the fresh morning air. Coming up to Sebastian, she took her place in the close circle they had formed.

“What decisions have been made?” she asked.

“None,” said Thanar with a touch of sarcasm.

She raised an eyebrow. “None?”

“We’re trying to decide if we should all go to face the emperor or only a part of the group,” said Terris, her arms folded stubbornly in front of her. Ciardis got the feeling which side her friend was on.

Sebastian said reluctantly, as if he had said it ten times before and didn’t want to say it again, “All I’m saying is that we should be wary. If my uncle has decided for whatever reason that we need to be eliminated, it’s best not to give him everyone on a platter.”

Ciardis swallowed. “I can’t say I disagree.”

Terris snorted. “If he wanted to eliminate us, it wouldn’t take much more work to send out a second strike team to take out everyone else.”

Vana said, “You’d be surprised at how easy it is for one person to elude capture. One person can run and hide in nooks and crannies that most soldiers wouldn’t think to look in. One person can pay a cash-strapped family to let them hide in their root cellar for a few good weeks if needed. Or they can do the opposite and still get away. Look at Lillian for instance. She hid in plain sight for eighteen years. You would have an even better advantage in your willingness to completely go underground and leave society altogether.”

“Nevertheless,” Terris said stubbornly, “I’m not going to be left behind this time.”

Ciardis laid a hand on her friend’s arm. Then she looked to Terris’s husband. Lord Meres stood silent and unmoving.

“What do you think, Lord Kinsight?” Ciardis finally said.

He raised contemplative eyes. “I think they both have good points. Having us in all in one place is dangerous to the cause.”

“Which cause is that?” said Thanar dryly.

Meres answered. “All of them. If we all die who will pursue the fight against the
blutgott
by Lord Crassius’s side? Who will discover the princess heir’s true machinations? Who will lead the fight against an imposter emperor?”

“Exactly,” exclaimed Sebastian.

Meres shook his head. “And yet, my lord, there is more. There always is. Kill us all at once and the cause ends. But I can’t say that our previous divide and conquer strategy worked out so well, either.”

“My point exactly!” said Terris triumphantly.

Sebastian and Terris glared at each other. Ciardis’s face twitched. She didn’t really want her husband and her best friend at odds.

Terris exclaimed, “The four of you left two nights ago certain of your success with a small party. Alone you went and look what happened. You were ambushed, captured, and arrested. That wouldn’t have happened if everyone else had been there.”

“You don’t know that,” countered Sebastian.

Terris almost rolled her eyes. Ciardis poking her in the side eliminated that before it happened.

“So what do we do?” said Lord Meres with a tired rub of his eyes.

Ciardis answered. “I think we do the best we can. We take the majority of our group but leave two essential members who can work with Lord Crassius to further our cause if needed.”

Meres said, “That actually seems like a good idea. Two people can be nimble and run if need be, while the other five can take on any threat if necessary.”

Sebastian nodded. “It could work.”

“Who stays, then?” demanded Vana.

Terris hurriedly said, “Not me. You need me.”

They all looked at her. But she didn’t back down. “I’m not talking about at the meeting with the emperor. I’m talking about on the journey to Kifar.”

Thanar raised an eyebrow. “When did we start talking about Kifar?”

“It’s the elephant in the room,” said Terris dryly, “or the sky—whatever. We all know you’re journeying to the fabled city at some point. With the way you all move so fast, you might leave in mid-meeting with the emperor. I’m telling you. I
need
to be there.”

“Why?” said Sebastian mildly.

Terris’s shoulders tensed but she didn’t lash out. From the emotions on her face, she could tell that Sebastian was asking a viable question.

“Because,” she said, “I know what the beast of Kifar is. And you’re going to need someone who can control
kith
if you’re going to take it on.”

Ciardis’s mind flashed back to the night Terris had first realized that she could control
kith
with her powers, rather than just communicate with them and look through their eyes like Meres could. Hence her name—Terris Kithwalker—and
his
mage name—Meres Kinsight.

Terris had recounted that fateful night to Ciardis in explicit detail.

Ciardis remembered it as if she had stood in the darkness of the heavy forest right alongside her friend.

Terris had been frightened beyond belief when a slavering wendigo had landed on top of her in the Ameles Forest. Wendigos were flesh-eating
kith
that could emit deafening screeches and stood on two legs with gray, wrinkled skin that hung in clumps of loose flesh. Its mouth was full of rows of sharp teeth, its bite was poisonous, and it had long, dirty claws.

Like it was her own memory, Ciardis recalled Terris’s encounter.

Terris had tapped into her powers and found a tenuous connection between herself and the disgusting creature that was crouched on top of her and prepared to eat her alive. When the wendigo had felt Terris’s hesitant pull, it had refrained from immediately biting down on her neck. Despite its appearance, this cannibalistic carnivore that howled in the night like a banshee was, in fact, sentient.

As Terris had felt its drool creep down her neck, she had mind-merged with the wendigo and taken control of its body. Forcing it to do her will. Her first action? Making it climb off her and attack the shades of the Shadowwalker.

So Ciardis knew that when Terris said she could control a
kith
, she meant it.

The question was...what kind of
kith
was this that they needed a mind-controlling mage to find and detain it?

Staring at Terris with horror in her eyes, Ciardis said, “What is the beast of Kifar?”

Terris looked at her and slowly pulled out a folded piece of parchment from the lining of her cloak pocket.

“I’ve been saving this until we had more time,” Terris announced, “but now seems as good a time as any.”

Everyone’s attention was pinned on the small square of paper in her hand.

“We did our best to find out as much information about the beast as possible before we came here,” Terris said. “On your request, Sebastian and Ciardis.”

Ciardis nodded, impatient to see the drawing.

“I took down all the detailed descriptions I could,” Terris continued, “and made an artist’s sketch from chalk.”

She unfolded the paper and they all strained forward to look down at the black and white drawing in her hands.

“This is the beast of Kifar.”

Ciardis couldn’t believe her eyes. She watched the lines flare out and take life. Thick muscles made up a bulky body. Spread wings signaled a being able to take flight. Slender eyes with a reptilian shape told her this was no mammal. A scaled beast of impressive stature, it stood upright on two legs with wings that flared from its body, a reptilian head, and a tail with a triangular-shaped wedge at the end.

“What is it?” she murmured.

Sebastian paled. “Something that hasn’t been seen alive on this continent for hundreds of years. They were banned for their savagery, inhumanity, and insatiable lust for blood.”

Ciardis eyed it some more. It kind of looked like a deformed dragon.

“What is it?” she stressed.

This time Thanar spoke. “A wyvern. The foot soldiers of the mighty Sahalian race.”

“So it’s a dragon?” Vana asked, her voice curious.

Thanar shook his head. “Not in the slightest. Not even in the sense that the bestial idiots that are ‘under-dragons’ are still considered dragon brethren. No, these
creatures
are stupid off-shoots that should never exist. They were projects of Sahalian mages created in their image. The dragons use them as an advance corps of guards anytime they want to clear out a new territory.”

Thanar’s voice became thoughtful. “Or at least they did before they stopped settling new lands.”

“What do you mean by clear out?” demanded Terris.

“I mean kill and eat everything in sight,” Thanar said. “These creatures would be set loose on islands for decades. They are practically impervious from harm, will eat anything, have no designs on rising dominance within Sahalian society, and have no sense of remorse. After fifty years of their feasting, their dragon overlords would swoop down and take over.”

“If this thing is loose,” said Sebastian reluctantly, “I have no doubt it would destroy Kifar in its rage.”

“Why?” said Ciardis. “It’s one creature and it doesn’t sound too intelligent. What would keep it from running off into the woods once the compulsion ends? Only Thomas’s magic keeps it lying in wait patiently, and I doubt anything will restrain its actions after it attacks the city as instructed. It could find food anywhere in the empire then. There’s no need to stay in Kifar.”

Meres and Sebastian exchanged glances.

Meres said, “The walls.”

“The walls?” echoed Ciardis.

“The entire city of Kifar is enclosed by a single massive wall built over one hundred feet high. It’s infused with magic and has only one entrance and exit.” Thanar said.

“Okay,” said Ciardis. “That’s not insurmountable. What’s to stop it from going through that one open gate?”

“The gate is
never
opened,” said Thanar.

Ciardis crossed her arms in irritation. She was beginning to feel her full questions would never be answered. Once they gave her one clue, it was as if the puzzle suddenly became larger and she needed two more clues just to keep up.

Exasperated, Ciardis said, “
Why
would a city’s gate never be opened? Commerce and visitors should be welcome. The residents at least would want to enjoy freedom of movement.”

She held up a hand to stall answers. “Before you give me a line with half an answer, think carefully. I want to know what exactly it is within or
about
that city that makes it so special.”

Reluctantly, Sebastian said, “It’s not what is within the city, it’s what
was
.”

She raised an eyebrow, refusing to ask another question.

“The plague curse is why Kifar is and has been closed to travelers for decades,” Sebastian said. “A half-century ago, a plague-curse known as the Aedivus infection swept over the land. It was lethal and insurmountable. No one could cure it. Few who encountered it lived. And desperate measures were taken to combat it before it could spread to more densely populated parts of the empire where the healers feared it would spread like wildfire. Eventually the only solution became to wall off the infected. You already know that all the mashes and swampland of the western lands had been cut from the Algardis Empire entirely.”