Shadow Of The Mountain (20 page)

Entering the room, she quickly surveyed the weapons within. The walls were lined with various racks of swords, spears, shields, and armor. She moved past a stone fireplace to a rack of unstrung bows. Picking up her bow, she grabbed an empty quiver and filled it with a bundle of twenty arrows and two extra bowstrings. While a far cry from a warrior princess, she was more than comfortable on the bow of lewth and could send accurate shots down range at more than fifty paces. Kreiden had even taken her to the private grounds the king’s scout archers trained on, where she was forced to practice her aim on disks of wood pulled across a line. Her husband said she had taken to it naturally, and weeks later she was able to land hits on birds in flight.

And that was where her list of targets ended, birds and wooden disks. She hoped things stayed that way.

Staring at a section of wall lined with knives, she slid a razor-sharp, curved dagger into her belt and hid a smaller knife in the back of her right boot.

Returning to the master bedroom, Natalia once more saw the frame of the shattered mirror. There was an urge to remove it, to not be reminded of the sorrow that had enveloped her life just days earlier, but there was no time. The smell of burnt timber drifted in from her open window and she moved towards it, placing her hands on the cool, familiar wooden frame. The house was built with a sweeping view of Corda in mind, and this was the first time she ever wished the upper levels didn’t survey so much of her city.

Great columns of black smoke spiraled into the late afternoon sky, closer than before. Everything felt ugly and out of place. The occasional sounds of panic and chaos had grown nearer as well.

The capital had been her home for almost ten years. Her father was the ruler of Den Prazi, a small nation of clustered islands to the far west of Amoria’s boarder. As the only daughter in a family of sons, she was sent to Amoria to benefit from their renowned academies and to learn the way of their people.

She met Kreiden when she was sixteen and had instantly fallen in love with the nineteen-year-old. They were wed two years later.

Now the greatest city in the realm, a city of freedom and prosperity, was tearing itself apart from within. If Amoria was a shining beacon of hope, then Corda was the source of the light. The capital’s libraries, universities, and hospitals were an example that all free nations struggled to achieve. And now it burned. It was as if the populace had forgotten who they were.

She heard a yell nearby and leaned out the window, looking to the western entrance. The high walls of the compound obscured most of what could be seen on the street, but she spied several individuals beating a man to the ground with clubs through the chained gate. The victim ceased struggling, but to her horror the blows continued to rain down upon him. She watched as one of the men stepped away from the motionless body to examine their gate.

He shook it.

Before disappearing into her room, Natalia saw the man point up at her. Not in her direction, but
at her
.

The champion’s wife was unaccustomed to the tickle of fear that spread through her body. Moving to a heavy oak dresser, she pulled out two pouches laden with gold and silver coin. Swiftly tying them to the back of her belt, she gathered her bow and left the room.

***

Natalia walked down two flights of curving stairs to the spacious main entrance. There was a large marble bust of Kreiden’s father, General Vardan Baelik, in the center of the foyer, as well as an ornate rug set before giant double doors. Karin and another awaited her.

The handmaiden had a sword belted to her side and spoke softly to a handsome, young man hardly past the age of twenty-five. He was wearing black leggings, loosely strung boots, and a fitted green tunic. His long dark hair was held in place by a leather headband and he cast a quick glance her way as she approached.

So much like Kreiden, Argos held the exemplary frame of an Amorian soldier: tall and slim of hip, with sculpted arms, broad shoulders, and the air of confidence carried by men who’ve had the training or lived the life. But beyond the man’s build, it was his gaze that reminded Natalia of her husband, his eyes. Icy blue, intelligent, and focused, they darted toward her cold and quick as winter’s frost. They were the eyes of a soldier, a warrior, a killer of men. Kreiden rode with many who had it in their gaze and often you could feel it staring back when you looked, like a sinister shadow watching you through the mirror. Calm and gentle one instant, but when the chains came off and swords were drawn, you had better be somewhere else. Kreiden had those eyes, and so did Argos.

His right hand held a mean-looking wooden club edged with iron, and his left was completely severed at the wrist, leaving only a narrow stump wrapped in leather. She remembered Kreiden telling her Argos had lost it when his escort detail was ambushed three years earlier near Galla’s boarder on the western edge of Killian Forest.

In the past the young warrior had spent a great deal of time with her husband but stopped coming around after the loss of his hand. Kreiden said the injury left him despondent and withdrawn, and that free of the army he’d slipped into the underground blood-wrestling and fist-fighting circles of Corda’s more perilous districts. Natalia couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him.

Upon her entrance, he ceased his conversation and dipped his head.

“Lady Natalia, you look stunning as ever,” he said with a striking smile.

“Thank you, Argos, but I’m afraid I look frightful.”

She suddenly wondered how much the man knew about Kreiden or the mishap with the sleeping opiate. Her foolish behavior was embarrassing enough, but to share it with someone who’d once been so close to her husband was far worse. Her stomach cramped at the thought.

She searched Argos’s eyes for any hint, but he was either a skilled liar or oblivious to the incident. Looking to Karin, her handmaiden read the silent question instantly and shook her head as if to say,
do not concern yourself.

“I have seen you many times and never once have you looked frightful,” Argos told her, face stern and honest. “I refuse to believe it even possible.” She felt herself blush slightly.

“I must admit, I was surprised that you were here. I thought you would be at Goridai…”

The man raised his severed wrist and she felt herself wince. Of course he wouldn’t be with the army; he was, after all, missing a hand.

“Not much I can do without a shield and I was never any good with numbers. I was actually hoping you girls would allow me to tag along as you leave the capital. Three is always better than two, or so my drinking associates always claimed.”

“I’m sorry, Argos. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Think nothing of it, my lady.”

He smiled at her and she struggled to read his thoughts, yet there was nothing but honesty behind his gaze. He was a good man, this one. Kreiden had always said so. And her husband knew men. He trained them; he read them. He lived with them and, sometimes, sent them to their death. But this one was different. Kreiden had ordered him to protect her. She knew that much. There was no other reason for his being here.

“Did Kreiden put you up to this?” She watched him closely as she descended the final steps. “Coming here to help us if things…went bad?” Argos seemed to think about it before nodding.

“I was honored, Tal. He is like a brother and I would do anything for him, or you.”

“Well, we thank you for your kindness.” She gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “Have you had supper yet? I’m sure we could fix you something to eat. I could use a solid meal myself.”

“Thank you, but no. We’d best be on our way, I‘m afraid. You can eat once we’re clear of the city walls. I haven’t been out in the streets for a day or so, but from what I can tell, Corda has become a dangerous place. It is several blocks to the stables and I fear there will be many who share our destination. Night will be here in an hour and I’d like to be out of the city and on our way north toward the mountains by then.”

The words were spoken easily but she could sense the urgency in his voice. Things were bad outside.

“Of course,” Natalia said, motioning them to the doors. “I have all that I need for a light ride. Let’s be on our way.”

Argos turned towards the double doors and Natalia saw the haft of a duel-bladed axe protruding from a leather case strapped to his back.

“How much trouble are you expecting?” she asked apprehensively.

He turned, unsure of what she meant, but then it dawned on him.

“Oh, that?” he said with another smile. “That’s merely for splitting wood.”

“Oh, really? You’re using that to split wood?”

“Sure,” he said with a grin, opening the wide doors and ushering them out. “Among other things.”

***

The trio moved out into the open courtyard. Ten-foot-high walls surrounded the compound and a cobbled walkway curved the two hundred paces through soft grass to the main gate. They walked down a small flight of steps and followed the path to the chained entrance. Large stones of granite were spaced out to line either side of the path, and Argos hopped from one to the other as they walked. The wind had shifted, carrying with it the distinct scent of burning lumber, and dark smoke seemed to have engulfed the entire sky, blotting out the fading sun.

“Why are they burning buildings?” Karin inquired as they moved. “Can’t the bastards still loot and not burn anything?”

“It does seem unbefitting of Amorian citizens,” Argos said, nimbly leaping two stones at a time. “But the people have been left defenseless and frightened. Many deeds will be perpetrated today that wouldn’t normally be done.”

Natalia shook her head. This all felt like a dream. “They mean to take it all for themselves, don’t they?”

“What are you saying?” Karin asked.

“These men who’ve appeared from across the sea.” She struggled to find the words, remembering her final evening with Kreiden. He had been so calm, but must have known what it was they faced. “First they killed our dragon in the desert, our men. We should’ve seen it then.”

“Seen what?”

“Amoria is the only nation that could contain them,” Argos answered. “If we’ve truly been routed, then all of western Endura is in peril. The Volrathi will be able to advance as far east as Hurandor without facing any resistance. More cities will burn, and more lives will be lost.”

“That reminds me,” Natalia said as they were halfway up the path. “When I was getting ready, at the western gate, I--”

She was interrupted by a high-pitched whistle from behind.

The three of them stopped and turned around.

There were four men in the yard within the walls, all carrying clubs and swords. Natalia figured they had been on the other side of the house, looking for a way in. Just another minute and they would have missed each other entirely.

“They beat a man outside the walls,” she whispered to the young warrior. Her hands were shaking.

Argos stepped down from the stone, grip tightening on the club.

The group of men approached with a haughty strut, halting several paces away. Two carried long swords with no scabbards, while the others had crude wooden clubs. They were filthy, grimy, and looked altogether menacing to the Prazi princess.

“Well, look at this, lads,” a man in the front spoke, in an eastern accent. He had a thick chest and wielded a club spiked with bent nails. “We got us a fine house and even finer women. What do you say we use the beds inside before we burn it down?”

A murmur of amusement spread through the soot-covered men.

“I want the fat one,” spoke a man in the rear whose massive belly hung over his belt. He leaned against a rusty sword, nearly out of breath.

Karin placed a trembling hand on the hilt of her weapon.

“You can have her, Jago,” spoke the leader with the nail-studded club. “I have my eyes set on the pretty one.” His eyes stared at Natalia with foul hunger. “And I’m gonna make her moan all night.”

Argos began to step forward, but Natalia’s hand held him back. The men laughed as she removed a money pouch and threw it to the ground. The small bag opened as it landed, spilling several coins glinting of gold to the grass.

The leader looked from the gold to the young, one-handed warrior.

“Don’t get too excited now, stumpy. You don’t want what we’re handing out.”

“Take the money and leave,” she spoke, surprised at how calm her voice was. “It’s all we have.”

“Oh, that’s not true,” a skinny man next to the leader spoke. “You got plenty else we can take.” He, too, stared intently at Natalia’s slender body.

The princess felt her belly fill with dread. It was clear these men would not be leaving peacefully and there were no city guards to help them. Not anymore.

She felt an anxious silence grow in the air between them, heavy and volatile and petrifying. Whatever was about to happen, it would happen soon.

“Where are you from, stupid?” Argos spoke coldly to the leader, breaking the trance. “It’s not from around here. If you knew whose house this was, you’d be somewhere else.”

“Listen stumpy, we’re taking the women inside, and…”

To Natalia what unfolded next was a blur. She remembered trembling with fear, unsure of what was to come, but then it was all over, like a lone candle blown out in a dark room.

Argos closed the distance between himself and the looters in one bound, savagely backhanding his iron-edged club against the leader’s forehead. The man fell to the side without so much as a whimper. At the same instant the skinny looter next to the leader lifted his own club and brought it down against Argos’s raised left arm.

The club connected and splintered apart with a loud crack.

The Amorian slammed his own bludgeon against the attacker’s cheek, shattering his jaw and crushing half his teeth. The skinny looter spun to the ground, shrieking in pain through a ruined mouth. The leader remained face down in the grass, unmoving.

“Don’t just stand there!” screamed the looter as he spat out a tooth and blood. “
Kill him
!”