Read Edge of Darkness ~ A Darkness & Light Novel Book Three Online
Authors: K. L. Schwengel
"Riders to the rear!"
As soon as the call went up, the back quarter of the Imperial Guard wheeled their mounts, some flanking off the road, others pivoting in place to turn and face the possible threat, weapons drawn. The foremost riders also maneuvered, Bolin at their head, to take up a defensive position around the Emperor. Two days had passed since they'd downed the wraith and, though the going had since been smooth, tensions remained high.
"Message for the Emperor," Everyn announced.
He led two riders forward, and Bolin's brows rose in surprise when he recognized Garek's men in place of regular messengers. They saluted as they passed, and Berk's gaze darted down on the pretense of getting the message from the pouch hanging off his saddle.
The Emperor's eyes swept over them, coming to rest on Garek's lieutenant. "You're injured?"
"Nothing serious, Majesty. We ran afoul of a marauder scouting party several days back. We haven't gotten a whiff of them since, but I've no doubt they're still behind us. Never known marauders to give up on a trail, especially when it's wearing the blue."
"I'll send a few extra scouts to our rear," Everyn said and spun his horse to go see it done.
Dain broke the seal on the folded parchment Berk handed him and flicked it open. Bolin watched him carefully in the fading daylight, but the Emperor's expression never once hinted at the missive's contents.
"We've a couple of leagues to put behind us yet," Dain said as he tucked the parchment away.
"We're good for that," Sully said. "But these horses could use a break."
"Get yourself some of the extra mounts and let's move out. I'll get your full report once we make camp, and you've had a chance to have your wounds tended."
The men bowed, offered Bolin another salute, and made their way back down the column to swap horses. Bolin waited until they were once more underway before looking expectantly in Dain's direction.
"That message bore Ari's seal," he said when the weighty glare got him no response.
"Very observant."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing you need to be concerned about."
"Garek sends his own men instead of a regular messenger, and you're going to try and convince me it's nothing I need to be worried about?"
"Yes. Believe it or not, not everything which occurs in this empire requires your immediate attention."
"It does if it's coming from Ariadne, via Garek, brought by your personal guard."
"It is nothing I am of a mind to discuss with you, General," Dain said. "At least not at the present moment. It is well in hand."
"Which is why you're refusing to look at me, then?"
Dain cocked his head Bolin's way without quite making eye contact. "Yes. In any case, there are more immediate concerns. We'll reach the Greensward the day after tomorrow." He said it in such a way as to make it sound as though he expected more of a response from Bolin than the simple nod he received. "My messenger should have arrived there today."
Bolin gave another nod. That messenger carried word of their arrival, and the reason behind it, to the Galysian elders. Dain had consulted Bolin in the writing of it. They had agreed to leave out the details of Nialyne's passing. That explanation needed to be given by Bolin, in person. He'd been fighting to keep his thoughts from the imminence of riding into the Greensward with its most beloved daughter lying cold and still, in a shimmer of mage magic, beneath a shroud of green. Facing the people would be hard enough. Having to face the elders, and relive Nialyne's death, filled him with dread beyond measure.
"You've been a bit withdrawn since the wraith attack," Dain said. "More so than normal."
"I wouldn't call one wraith at a distance an attack. In any case, nothing can touch us in the Greensward."
"We're not there yet, and eventually we'll need to leave."
"And if something happens between now and then, we'll deal with it."
"You cannot fault my concern. The sequence of events since Broadhead can hardly be laid at the feet of coincidence."
"Damn the unholies, Dain, the empire and its concerns can wait for a handful of days more." Sandeen slicked his ears back and danced beneath Bolin at his sudden outburst. Several of the guards cast surreptitious looks his direction before edging a bit further away. Bolin rubbed his jaw. He lowered his voice and fought to keep it level. "Let me lay Nialyne to rest. Haven't I earned at least that? If not for my sake, then in her honor, because surely she deserves that much."
"That she does," Dain said, keeping his voice softer than Bolin had managed. "And you as well. Unfortunately, I don't believe our enemies are as willing as I am to set things aside and allow you time to grieve."
Bolin swallowed his next comment because the Emperor's focus had turned inward, his eyes growing dark.
"Something has tested the flanking ward twice now," Dain said, by way of explanation.
"Where?"
He turned his face toward the west. "There."
"By your leave?"
Dain nodded absently, but Bolin had asked as a mere formality. He had already traced along the flow of the Emperor's power, following the strong yet subtle ward Dain cast almost half a league out from the column in all directions. That the Emperor could create and hold such a vast working without any apparent effort gave silent testimony to the incredible strength of the power that ran through the Imperial line. For Bolin, dipping into that power was like being submerged in a bottomless well. It surrounded him, its touch vibrating through him, warm, potent, intense enough to drown in if he forgot himself.
Who could stop you should you wish to take it for yourself? All your life you have served others. Do you not desire your freedom?
Bolin ignored the voice. He pushed Dain's ward out further still, hoping to ensnare whatever moved at its fringes.
What if I dance at its edge? What would you do if you caught me, I wonder? Would you embrace me?
Dain's focus sharpened.
Would you seek to destroy me? You could. With all this at your disposal. You could cleanse Darkness from the land. Could avenge the death of your beloved sorceress.
Bolin drew back with enough force to send a lance-like stab of pain through his skull, and pull a startled exclamation from Dain.
"What happened?" The question carried the weight of a demand.
Bolin stared at Sandeen's ears, trying to force coherent thoughts past the pounding behind his eyes. It took an inordinate amount of effort to ignore the voice whispering in his head and say the words as he intended, not as it desired. "Did you sense anything besides the testing of your ward? Any other power at play?"
"Nothing. You?"
Bolin wet his lips. "Not as such. More a vague compulsion." He darted a glance Dain's way and struggled to keep his breathing even, only then realizing they had come to a halt. He nudged Sandeen into a walk and the company began to crawl forward once again. "Whatever tested the wards has only enough magic to sense them, and only when it actually hits them, not before. And it doesn't know how to get past."
"Another scout?"
"Likely. Whose, remains the question."
"Donovan's?" the Emperor offered. "The threat the Goddess spoke of? The Dominion priestess?"
Bolin arched a brow. "So you believe she's still alive?"
"I believe she's not what you think she is. Not what Donovan thought she was."
"Your faith in the Goddess is so absolute." Far too much bitterness and condescension colored Bolin's words.
Dain's expression registered shock. "And yours suddenly isn't?"
Bolin said nothing. He whistled up to the front riders to pick up the pace instead. He caught himself reaching up to rub his arm and dropped his hand. Bolin needed to find that left-over bit of the witch's magic and twist it to his will. He could use it to find and destroy her, regardless of whether she was what Dain thought, and what the Goddess suggested. He had Nialyne's power, and that of the pendant. Though his lip curled at the thought of blending the oily bit of witch's magic with something as pure as the power of the Greensward, the three powers combined would prove something even she couldn't overcome.
For now, however, Bolin could do nothing. Not under Dain's constant scrutiny. And since his visitation from the Goddess, the Emperor had not allowed Bolin out of his sight. Once in Galys Auld, however, he would be able to find some privacy, and could spend some time trying to isolate the witch's magic. The elders would never entrust him with another crystal, so drawing it out and entrapping it as he had done before it, was out of the question. He'd be able to control it this time, of that he had no doubt. He'd never come across any magic he couldn't. Even the crone's had eventually bowed to his will, though that had damn near done him in. Then again, in that instance, he had been fighting on more than one front. The witch's magic he would face one on one, with nothing else to distract him, and with more power at his disposal than he possessed any time in the past.
Then he would avenge Nialyne's death once and for all.
The routine of seeing to the horses and setting up camp occupied Berk once the escort stopped for the night. By the time he finished, Sergeant Reddle, the company healer, had seen to Sully's injuries and proclaimed him fit enough for duty, so long as he didn't attempt any foot racing or dancing for at least a fortnight. They gave Captain Everyn their report on the marauders before Sully went to find a game of dice. Berk found his mood not up to the task of idle conversation. Claiming exhaustion he begged off and wandered to the edge of the camp to lean against a tree, gazing up at the few stars poking their heads through a gathering layer of clouds.
For the first time since leaving Nisair he should have been able to relax. Scouts were out, a watch set, and for one night he had no responsibilities beyond seeing to his own horse and bedroll. He should have taken advantage of that fact and thrown himself at sleep like a starving dog on a bone. Goddess knew he needed it. He'd fared better in their set-to with the marauders than Sully, coming away with nothing more than sore muscles and a few bruises. The woman's attack, however, left him with a constant dull ache in his skull, and no matter what he ate or drank, the greasy taste of her blood lingered in his mouth. They'd put in three days of harder riding after her attack than they'd done since leaving Nisair, and Berk felt it in every bone of his body.
"Berk?"
He started at the sound of his name and spun off the tree, muscles tensing, then quickly lifted his hands away from his weapons, holding them out slightly from his body as he recognized the voice. General Bolin took the pose in with one sweep of his eyes, lifting a brow in response, and Berk flushed.
"I'm sorry, sir. I…" He swiped a hand through his hair and averted his gaze. "It was a hard ride. I guess I’m just a bit on edge yet."
"Understandable, but I get the sense there's more to it than that."
Berk hadn't planned what he'd say to the general, or how he could ever manage to apologize for everything he'd done if the opportunity presented itself. He honestly didn't want to think about it, even now, and tried to talk himself into keeping his tongue still.
"If there's something you need to say, have out with it," the general said, not unkindly.
Berk drew in a quick breath and wet his lips. "About what happened on the wall that day--" He rubbed the back of his neck, cold sweat prickling his flesh. So much for not talking. "If anyone had told me I'd ever raise a weapon to you, I would've told them they were crazy. I hold you in the highest possible regard, and the truth of what I did, what I could've done, what happened up there because of my actions--" He broke off, looking away and fighting to rein in his emotions, thinking he should have stuck with saying nothing.
"No one holds you to blame for anything, or the Emperor wouldn't have seen fit to exonerate you."
"And you?" Berk met the general's light eyes, hard and cold as steel. "No disrespect to the Emperor, but he's not the man I tried to kill."
"Had I felt you were at fault, I would've asked for your head, and the Emperor would have given it to me. You've no cause to carry guilt for anything that happened that day. There was no way you could have fought against the hold on you. I hope you understand that."
"I don't, actually," Berk said. "Magic isn't anything I've much familiarity with."
Until lately.
"You'll have to trust me on that, then. For you to fight it as much as you obviously did was quite remarkable. A lesser man wouldn't have hesitated to gut me, let alone offer me a blade to defend myself."
"If I hadn't taken Ciara up there, none of it would have happened." Berk blew out a breath, and forced himself not to look away. "It's because of me you're making this trip, under these circumstances."
The unflinching intensity of the general's gaze pinned Berk, holding him as surely as chains. A flicker of anger had Berk tensing, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, chased by sorrow before being schooled into a more neutral expression.
Bolin shook his head. "You're in no way responsible for Nialyne's death. That is not your burden to carry. Not even in part. Donovan used you. One way or another, he would have gotten Ciara to that wall. If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else, and things may have gone far worse."
Berk couldn't contain a scoff. "I'm not sure how much worse they could have gone."
"I could be dead. Or you. Or Ciara. Donovan could have succeeded, and what that would have led to we can only guess." He stepped closer and laid a hand on Berk's shoulder. "I can't make the guilt you've taken on any less by anything I say. Only you can do that, and I suggest you try. Given the odds you faced, you held yourself well. If you're looking for some sort of absolution from me, if that's what it's going to take to put your mind at ease, you have it."
"I'm not sure I deserve it."
"Something else only you can decide." He dropped his hand and gestured back toward the Emperor's tent. "If there's nothing else, then, the Emperor would like a word."
"Sully and I already gave Captain Everyn a full report."
"And the captain shared it with us, and now the Emperor would like a word with you. Is there a problem?"
"No, sir."
"Then I suggest we not keep him waiting."
***
By the sharp upward rake of General Bolin's brows, it came as much of a surprise to him as it did to Berk, when the Emperor dismissed him from the tent. For several long moments he studied the Emperor, eyes narrowed as though he considered disputing the order. He flicked an undecipherable look Berk's way, shifted his attention back to the Emperor, then inclined his head slightly, pivoted, and strode out. As the tent flap closed behind him, Berk let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding.
"He certainly knows how to pull the air out of a room, doesn't he?" The Emperor's gaze lingered on the flap, his eyes going soft. Then he blinked and turned Berk's way, holding up the commander's message. "How much do you know of what this contains?"
"Nothing of a certainty, Your Majesty," Berk said. "But I can guess."
"You were with Lady Ciara when she was arrested?"
"I was."
"You stood with her before the Council?"
"I did."
He nodded, lips pursed in thought. "I will need to share this news with the general eventually. I prefer to do so after he sees Danya Nialyne to her final rest. I have absolutely no doubts as to what his reaction will be. He's had enough thrown at him recently, and deserves to get through the rest of this in relative peace."
"He won't hear anything regarding the situation from me, Your Majesty," Berk said.
"Good. There is another matter we need to discuss, then." The Emperor tucked the missive inside his tunic. "Lieutenant Sully informed me of your meeting on the road after the marauder attack. You told him you believed the woman was the same one who was aiding Donovan?"
Berk nodded. "It was her. I'm sure of it."
"I need to examine the encounter more thoroughly. To do so, I will require your permission to sift through your memories. I give you my word, I will look no further than those events involving her."
Berk's mouth went dry. "May I ask why, Your Majesty? If Sully's told you what happened, and you have questions in that regard, I will gladly answer them."
"Memories are tricky creatures," the Emperor said. "They can be skewed by perception as much as by time."
Berk fought the urge to bolt from the tent. His entire body trembled on the edge of flight, and he thanked the Goddess the Emperor continued to stand very quietly outside of arm's reach. If the Emperor so much as twitched, Berk couldn't be sure he wouldn't run. "It's just… I don't know much about magic. I've been tended by gifted healers but I was generally unconscious for that. What that woman did to me in Nisair, what she made me do…"
He scrubbed a shaking hand across his forehead, and paced the three strides to the far side of the tent. He trusted the Emperor, he had no doubt of that whatsoever, yet something urged him to deny the request.
"She came to me in Broadhead as well," he said, not turning. "I don't understand why. She's planning something. She told me that much. Said she has a task for me. She must have found me easy to manipulate in Nisair, so intends to do the same again. In which case I'd rather face the block."
"As long as you are in my company, and once we are within the Greensward's borders, she will not be able to touch you. I will personally guarantee that. I need to ascertain her true nature, Berk. I need to know who and what she is. Looking closer at your memories might help me find some of those answers."
Berk closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had pledged his life to the protection of this man and the empire. He wouldn't back down if someone came at the Emperor with sword drawn. If he had to choose, though, Berk would have preferred facing that enemy over the one haunting him.
He turned and nodded. "What do you need me to do?"
"Just sit and relax."
"I can sit," Berk said, and lowered himself into a nearby camp chair with a crooked attempt at a smile. "I can't promise I can relax."
"I'll make this as quick as I can."
The Emperor sat across from him. As soon as Berk met the clear cerulean of his eyes everything else faded. He lost himself for a moment in the deep swirls of color, then jerked suddenly back in a moment of sheer panic. A soothing wave of reassurance coaxed him from the edge, and his pulse slowed to something more like normal. He did his best to ignore the sweat trickling down the back of his neck and empty his thoughts. That proved to be a mistake because an image of Ciara flitted across his mind. Berk tried to stop it, then realized the Emperor had gone all the way back to his first meeting with the woman in Nisair. The scenes flashed behind his eyes quicker than he could register them, which proved to be a blessing as Berk really had no desire to relive them.
The barrage slowed when the Emperor got to the woman's visit in Broadhead, and he picked through those memories much more slowly. When he finally turned to the most recent events, they weren't completely as Berk recalled them. He watched the scene unfold as a voyeur. Most of it seemed familiar, but when he got to the part where Berk managed to free his dagger and drive it into her, the woman vanished. Something else slammed Berk backwards, a dark featureless shape that pinned him until the woman reappeared. And there were words being whispered. Berk didn't recall hearing them before. He didn't know the language, but they seemed to curl around him like cords of rope.
The Emperor's voice overlaid them. Hot, slick bile rose up in Berk's throat, and he forced it back down before it gagged him. The Emperor's voice continued, demanding something of him. Berk tried to tell him he didn't understand, but his mouth refused to work. It became a moot point when a thousand, searing, needle-like stabs of pain tore through bone and muscle alike. Berk clenched his jaw to keep from screaming.
Thankfully, as quickly as it began, it ended.
"Look at me. Berk."
He blinked. Hands cupped either side of his head. The Emperor's face appeared in his line of sight, blocking his view of the tent's roof. Berk licked his lips and found forming even a single word too much effort. In fact, the very task of keeping his eyes open seemed insurmountable.
"Berk!"
"What in the Goddess's name? Get him to his feet."
Berk rolled his head toward the second voice, surprised to find General Bolin had rejoined them.
"I'm a'right," he whispered, and flopped his arm loosely in an attempt to wave them off.
"I can see that," the general said, his tone flat.
Hands clutched his arms, hoisted him up until he found his feet beneath him, at which point he promptly doubled over and threw up.
"Goddess's blood, Dain, what did you do to him?"
"We need to talk."
"You need to tell me what happened here. I felt the shock of it half-way across the camp."
Berk wedged his palms against his thighs and stared at a spot on the ground. "I's a'right," he managed, before a shudder ran through him. He tried to push off the hands holding him up. "Iken stan."
"Of course you can. Help me get him back in the chair."
Berk sat, head lowered, and pressed the heels of his palms against his temples to ease the pounding behind his eyes. Someone offered him a mug but Berk shook his head. "What happened?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out," the general said.
"The Dominion priestess isn't dead, and she seems to have taken an interest in Berk. She's come to him at least four times in the--"
"Four?" Berk lifted his head, but this time stopped himself from shaking it. That wouldn't have done his stomach any good. "No. Just twice. Broadhead, and on the road."
"Those are the ones you actively remember," the Emperor said. "There have been others. Some disguised as dreams. One in the form of someone else."
"Kort," Berk whispered. He looked toward the general. "The night before we left Nisair, I thought I saw Kort like he was at Broadhead. I knew it couldn't be but…" He dropped his head back into his hands. "Goddess's blood, what does she want from me?"