Read The Nemesis Blade Online

Authors: Elaina J Davidson

Tags: #dark fantasy, #time travel, #apocalyptic, #swords and sorcery, #realm travel

The Nemesis Blade (4 page)

Kris Westlake
gazed around him. A night in Valla Palace? He would have a tale to
tell, for sure - with a few embellishments - and the Vallas would
come out smelling like nectar.

He grinned.
“Agreed.”

Tristan
smiled. “Thank you. Please, have a drink, eat something. I will
have someone come for you in a while. My cousins and I need to
confer now, if you will excuse us?” Tristan rose decisively, as did
Tianoman and Teroux. “Sirlasin, will you join us?”

“Of course, my
lord,” the Elder murmured and followed the three Valla men out,
leaving a bemused Kris Westlake staring at the array of drinks and
edibles before him. He looked up at the books on the shelves and
gaped at the titles.

Hell, never
would he read even a portion of those.

 

 

“Is there a
rumour circulating to this effect?” Tristan demanded as the door to
his suite closed on them. “Sirlasin?”

“There must
be.”

“It could
affect trust in the Kaval,” Teroux muttered.

“And relations
with Valaris,” Tianoman pointed out. “We do not want to rule by
fear or be seen as future aggressors.”

“I wonder if
Elixir knows,” Sirlasin murmured.

“What worries
me,” Tristan said, “is others may be readying an army to offset
this mythical force on Sanctuary. An army prepared eventually
requires a war to affirm necessity.”

Teroux and
Tianoman were horrified, but Sirlasin said, “Elixir would see such
an army preparing.”

“Would he? By
all accounts he has withdrawn to his villa on Sanctuary and has
little to do with the Dome and his Kaval. And what if it’s readied
in innocuous pockets of resistance? Not enough to bring Kaval
attention, yet sufficient to herald other, similar units.”

Sirlasin
pursed his lips. “That smacks of organisation. Is someone powerful
enough to keep the secret? We do not know any of this.”

“No,” Teroux
agreed, “yet we shouldn’t be complacent. A rumour about potential
kingdoms is fuel to resistance.”

“Someone
should contact the Dome,” Tianoman suggested.

“One of us
should speak to Elixir,” Tristan said.

“Because
someone may be creating these rumours to build an army,” Teroux
murmured.

It was
Sirlasin’s turn to be horrified. “We must tell him
immediately.”

Tianoman said,
“Who will go?”

Sirlasin
looked away. “Perhaps one of the Elders known to him?”

“No, we won’t
spread this thing,” Teroux said. “You should go, Sirlasin.”

“No, not me.
He needs to hear it from - one of you must do this.”

Teroux said,
“He came for my and Tris’ Coming-of-Age, and he’s bound to come for
yours, Tian. That’s less than a month away; we could speak to him
then.”

Tianoman
nodded immediately.

“Are we afraid
of our grandfather?” Tristan said. “This is the man who comforted
you when your father died, Teroux, and was there at your birth and
naming, Tian. He was there for me during those Abyss dreams, and he
has come over the years when we needed him to be our grandfather.
He came when we achieved adulthood, as he will for you. He is
Elixir, yes, but he’s still Torrullin, a man who loves his
family.”

Tianoman spoke
next. “Your father should be the one, Tristan. Let Samuel go … or
we wait until my Coming-of-Age.”

Tristan gave a
mirthless smile. “We are afraid of him. I won’t add to my father’s
troubles right now and I don’t think we should wait almost a month
to tell him something he needs to know immediately.”

“Maybe he
knows,” Teroux suggested.

“And maybe he
doesn’t.”

“What do you
suggest?” Tianoman asked.

“All three of
us go.”

Sirlasin
nodded.

Teroux gave a
heartfelt sigh. “When?”

Tristan said,
“Well, let us not set alarms ringing for the Beaconite downstairs.
After the man leaves in the morning, we go.”

Tianoman
pulled a face. “Fine. Sirlasin, let us get back to Vall to
organise.” The Elder agreed and the two left.

Teroux looked
at Tristan. “Why are we afraid of Torrullin?”

“He can see
through us into our hidden thoughts, I guess.”

“So?”

“Ah, Teroux,
maybe you have nothing to hide, but Tian certainly does and I think
I may have, too.”

“Like what?”
Teroux whispered.

“That bloody
Throne, my brother. It plays with us now.”

Teroux looked
away. “Yes.”

Chapter
4

 

A place to lay
my head, Samaritan, please. All gods bless you.

~ Beggar to
passer-by

 

 

Sanctuary

 

T
orrullin agreed on this world as sanctuary not only
because it offered the kind of benign natural order to aid
restoration of the soul, body and mind, but over its timing in
seasons and day-night cycles.

Sanctuary
closely matched Valaris in both. When it was morning on Valaris, it
was morning on Sanctuary, and when it was winter here, it was
winter there.

He swore to
stay away from Valaris to spare his homeworld - for trouble
invariably accompanied him - and had stayed away, other than the
two Coming-of-Age ceremonies. Every day was a battle to ignore his
world.

Thus
Sanctuary. In living the same cycles he could be there in mind. It
was how he coped.

The weather
was bleak and cold this mid-morning,. Winter set her tentacles onto
the land and would soon burrow in. Already there was ice on Lake
Averis in the mornings and soon Lake Altar would sport icy patches
also. Fortunately neither froze completely, or shipping would be a
trial during winter months.

He stood on
the jetty jutting into Lake Averis staring at the swirling mists
rising from the small island two and a half sals from where he was.
The island was uninhabited and unnamed, a strange little place he
tended to shy from.

His thoughts
were on Lowen, although not with her, for Lowen had vanished so
completely it was as if she never existed. Teighlar, it appeared,
was the last to see her. Grinwallin was the final place she visited
before vanishing.

No trace, no
word, no clue and not even Elixir’s sight could find her. And no
more dreams.

Where was she?
What happened to her? Why had she sent a call through the spaces?
It had been a call, he now realised, and something befell the
Xenian seer; it was not premonition and it was not a dream.

He used the
sight to delve the universe, known realms, and even resorted to
Wiccan scrying to find her … and nothing.

It was time to
set his Kaval to investigating her absence, the project she was
working on and her movements over the last year - more, if it
proved necessary. Lowen was Kaval; they would not question the
task.

Three forms
materialised on the grassy bank, and seemed unsure. Their backs
were to him, facing his home, but he knew them, far better than
they suspected and definitely more than they knew him.

Tristan,
Teroux and Tianoman. His three grandsons.

Why had they
come? This was the first time they had been to Sanctuary and it was
also the first time he sensed a shared mission. Something was
wrong.

Lowen, and now
this? Was there a link? There was no such thing as coincidence, a
lesson hard taught a long time ago. Was he ready to interact with
these three ? They were already too close to his heart.

He drew breath
and called.

All three, he
noted, were afraid of him.

Ah, yes, the
influence of the Throne began to tell now.

All three, he
realised, glanced at the famous sword that went with him
everywhere. Elianas, nemesis, also known as the Lumin Sword.

He went
towards them, gesturing they remain where they were.

Tristan stood
in the centre of the trio and was directly before him. Tristan was
his image, with the same grey eyes he once had and with the same
fair hue of hair. Tristan was exactly his height, but had his
father Samuel’s more diffident posture.

“My Lord,”
Tristan said. “It is good to see you.”

Torrullin
smiled. This man, who now seemed a brother in age, was dear to him,
as was Samuel. “Tristan, welcome.” He held his arms wide.

Relief flooded
into Tristan’s face and he stepped into the embrace without
reservation.

Then there was
Teroux. Teroux was true Golden. Hair, eyes, skin and manner.
Tannil’s son, a man who did his father proud.

“Grandfather,”
Teroux grinned.

Torrullin
laughed and gripped the man in a hug. “Welcome, Teroux.”

Tianoman
watched proceedings with hooded eyes. He was the youngest,
therefore third in the greeting exchange, yet he sensed his age had
little to do with it. Torrullin placed him last in his heart,
because he was Tymall’s son.

When his
grandfather came to him he spoke with greater wariness than the
others.

“My Lord
Elixir, we have come with disturbing news.”

Torrullin
stood before the youngest Valla. Tianoman had it wrong. He loved
this son of his son with all his heart, but chose to distance
himself to allow him to grow up unfettered by expectation. Perhaps
it was time to give something back or he would lose this one. His
hand reached up and rested on a tense cheek.

“Tian, you are
no more, or any less, welcome than your cousins. In my heart you
are equal.”

His fingers
curled around Tianoman’s neck and he pulled him into his arms,
holding on longer than he had for the other two. When he let go, he
was rewarded with a sincere smile.

“Thank you,
grandfather.”

Torrullin
nodded, raked all three with his silvery eyes, but did not attempt
to read them.

“You have
disturbing news, you say? Something you could not entrust to an
Elder? We will talk inside. Bad news is better assimilated on a
satisfied stomach and I haven’t yet eaten today. Come.”

He stepped
through them and headed up the bank. His villa was a sal distant
along the lakeshore and he used the walk to talk of other
things.

“How is
Valaris?”

“No problems,”
Teroux said. “We opened a new theatre in Menllik last month and
already Ceta and Xen have booked in their travelling troupe, one a
light-show with dance and the other an old-fashioned satire.”

Torrullin
smiled. “Which do you prefer?”

“Satire,”
Teroux laughed.

“Are you
coping with the city?”

“All is
smooth,” Teroux replied, pleased his grandfather asked.

“Excellent.
And the Vall, Tian?”

“Generally
good, thank you. But, gods, it gets cold there!”

Torrullin
laughed aloud. “Warmer climes?”

“As soon as I
can take a break, yes,” Tianoman grinned.

Torrullin
glanced at Tristan, who walked abreast beyond Tianoman. “The west
must be quiet, particularly now in winter.”

“Tourism has
dropped, yes … thank Aaru.”

“Too many
demands?”

“Like the
Palace is on display most of the time.”

“And you, of
course.”

Tristan loosed
a long-suffering sigh. “Yes. All smiles, all the time. But, that’s
a personal gripe, for all is well. The winter angling competition
is due soon and we have entries from the mainland and the isles,
and as far a-field as Fortani.”

“Remarkable.
So, this news hasn’t anything to do with trouble back home? Good.
No, later. Tristan, I heard about your mother. I am sorry.”

Tristan
swallowed. “Thank you.”

“She was
mother to all three of us,” Teroux said.

“We miss her,”
Tianoman added.

“Yes, Curin
was a special lady,” Torrullin murmured. “How is Samuel taking
it?”

“Badly,”
Tristan said.

A break in
Torrullin’s stride and then, “I didn’t know, Tris, not until
after.”

“The Elders
should’ve told you,” Teroux muttered.

Tristan shook
his head. “Father asked them to say nothing.”

His cousins
craned forward to look at him. “He did?” Teroux asked. “Why?”

“Something
about the lure of Valaris.”

Torrullin came
to a halt and the others did, too.

“My Lord?”
Tianoman enquired.

“Your father
knows me well, Tris. I fight the lure of Valaris every day. Had I
returned to pay my respects to a woman I thought the world of,
grief would have held me there longer than necessary, and seeing
you would bind me further. Seeing Saska could undo my resolve. Your
father is a selfless man, bless him.”

“It wouldn’t
be bad to have you back,” Teroux whispered.

“Thank you for
that, but we know different. Even Saska would agree with Samuel.”
Torrullin began walking again. “Did you speak to her?”

“Just
condolences,” Tianoman murmured.

Teroux shook
his head.

Tristan
cleared his throat and said, “Not to me.”

A brief
silence and then Torrullin asked, “What did you overhear?”

“She was
talking to my father and she mentioned Caballa and asked about …
Lowen.”

A humourless
grunt. “And how did Samuel reply?”

“There’s no
sign of Caballa and he heard Lowen left you,” Tristan muttered.

Because he
drove Lowen away, and now he paid for it. “Anything else?”

“Not that I
heard.”

“Did Lowen
leave you?” Tianoman asked with the impetuosity of youth. His
cousins gaped at him.

“Lowen left
me, yes, about ten years ago.”

Heads jerked
to Torrullin. “Ten years?” Teroux said.

A grim smile.
“We were apart most of the time anyway. A lie was uncovered, and
that is as much as I will say.”

“Crikey,”
Teroux muttered.

“Why did you
not … well, never mind.” Tianoman managed to shut his mouth before
he put his foot in it.

“Saska?”
Torrullin chose to answer the unfinished question. “Why did I not
let her know? Why did I not repair the rift in my marriage? There
is no easy answer, except to say the rift between us stretches
beyond the presence of Lowen.”

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