Blackmark (The Kingsmen Chronicles #1): An Epic Fantasy Adventure Read online

  Gherris gestured at her angrily. “You can barely even move! And right to the smoke! Like an invalid. What the fuck is this?”

  Ghrenna pinned him with her eyes. She put everything into that stare, letting him feel how little she cared about him, letting him feel that just because he was Kingskinder, she owed him nothing. Ghrenna had always made alliances of necessity, and Gherris was more liability than she was. It was time to tell him, to tell them all, and see what her guild would do.

  To see if they, like everyone else, would call her a witch.

  “Alrashemnesh aere phelo Areseitya rhavesin.” Ghrenna murmured, empty, filling herself with stillness.

  Gherris blanched. He trembled. “Areseitya?” He breathed. “Are you fucking with me?” Ghrenna did not comment, still pinning him to the wall with her gaze. “Fuck.” But shame was in his visage now, the rage in him retreated. He stared at her for a very long moment.

  Luc cleared his throat, glancing from one to the other. “Um… what did I miss?”

  Gherris spared him a cursory glance, then stared at Ghrenna again, peering at her as if she was a very dangerous species. “She’s says she's a seer. The word Areseitya means True Seer, in Alrashemni. It's used for people who have visions.”

  Luc was staring at her now, his lips fallen open in astonishment. “Um…like… the Three Seers of Wyr? Like that old fae-yarn?”

  But Gherris shook his head. “No. Fucking childish drivel. True Seers don’t have visions about lost chickens, Luc. True Seers have visions like, when the fuck we are going to die. Visions like, who killed the little girl found strangled in the street. Visions like, if there are any other Alrashemni left… right, Ghren?” His last words were a whisper, a flicker of hope in his young, cruel face.

  “I don’t know that for certain, Gherris.” Ghrenna murmured. But she knew the color of that grey from her vision. And she had seen hundreds of them, massed for battle. Massed for war.

  “Then what good are you?!” Gherris snarled.

  “Good for a lot, I’d say.” Luc was appraising her now, thoughtful. “Did you see something, Ghrenna? Is that why you seized and passed out?”

  “What was it, Ghren?” Shara was calm, taking it in stride, the only one of Ghrenna’s guild that knew Ghrenna was finally admitting the truth of who she was, and what.

  “I saw Kingsmen.” Ghrenna’s gaze was still on Gherris. “Hundreds of Kingsmen. Alive. In the courtyard of Roushenn Palace and arrayed for battle.”

  “What?” Gherris startled. “But I thought all the true Kingsmen were dead! Are you saying there are hundreds alive out there somewhere?” Gherris was attentive at last, his manner sharp as he came over to lean upon the post of her bed.

  Ghrenna took a long pull, eyeing him. “My vision could be wrong.”

  Gherris’ eyes narrowed. “True Seers don’t have false visions.”

  “And mine generally aren’t. Save for one, once. But it was something so important…”

  “That now you don’t trust them.” Luc’s voice was somber beside her.

  She glanced over. “Some I trust. They feel true. But there are others I can’t prove true or false right now.”

  “About Alrashemni?” Gherris watched her carefully.

  Ghrenna nodded. “Yes. About Seventh Seals, like me, friends I once knew. There were five of us. Four now, if my visions are correct.”

  “Where are they?”

  “One is in Lintesh. She’s Captain-General for the Palace Guard. One is a traveling prizefighter. One died in battle. The last I think was High Brigade, I always see him in the mountains, but he may have been discharged.” Ghrenna’s mind strayed as the threllis kicked in. She saw Elohl’s sinuous limbs again, saw him fucking that other woman with the honey-blonde braid. It sparked a bitter possessiveness. Ghrenna pushed it away, making herself still, empty. Getting angry would only heighten her current pain.

  “Lintesh. That’s only a week’s ride,” Gherris mused, and Ghrenna could see the calculating wheels in his mind turning.

  “We find my friend in Lintesh, and what? Your parents are suddenly alive again?” It was mean, and Ghrenna took a long pull from her pipe, angry, afraid. Gherris’ words had voiced a thought she had often had. But like every other time, she pushed it away. It was safer to stay here, in this beautiful tomb of whorls and silver sigils, slowly dying, than to go back there and face what she had done. How she had sent them off on a fool’s quest from a false vision. How she had spilled the whereabouts of the Kingskinder to the brute in herringbone leathers, who had broken her mind. It was safer to stay here, thieving, living like a rat, then to face what she feared. The truth and the judgment in Olea’s eyes, of how she had betrayed and ruined them all.

  Or Elohl’s.

  Luc was strangely sad at her unkind outburst, gazing at Ghrenna with a mixture of pity and concern that she found she couldn’t stand. A shocked silence filled the room, her guildmates all staring, Shara with her mouth open, Gherris flushed red as if holding back tears.

  “They called me a witch,” Ghrenna murmured at last around the stem of her pipe, seeking to explain. “Age three. A witch. Be lucky that you had love for your parents, Gherris, because mine called me a witch and then gave me up. The only ones who would take me were the Alrashemni. But this possible future…” Ghrenna sighed around the pipe in her teeth, then had a long pull, settling back into the pillows and staring at the rotted lace of the canopy. “It was just a flash, Gherris. A future I have no idea how or when it will come, or what to do about it. We could go to Lintesh, find my friend Olea, and never have it come to pass. Futures are tricky. Most of the things I see are common-thread events, which means they happen right as I see them, or immediately afterward. I’ve only seen a few true futures, and one was wrong. Deadly, horribly wrong.” Her gaze flicked to her laudable collection of clockworks, feeling all her shame again, just as fresh as the day she’d been carted to the Fleetrunners.

  Gherris’ eyes traced her attention. “Why all the clockworks Ghrenna?”

  “Because I was wrong. And everything collapsed because of it.”

  * * *

  Conversation had turned to argument, had turned back into conversation, had yielded to a break for food, which had morphed back into argument. Tempers were frayed, everyone was worn from a long night. Ghrenna was able to pace about the grotto-room now, stretching out her tight limbs, while Luc lounged on her bed, his dusty boots carelessly up on her blankets.

  “What would we tell the Consortium?” On his back, Luc stared up at Ghrenna’s frayed canopy, hands laced behind his head.

  “Fuck the Fhouria Thieves’ Consortium.” Gherris growled, slouching against the bedpost. “We’re paid up. They get more from us in one night then they do from the other guilds in a month. I say we go to Lintesh to find this Olea woman and find out about the Kingsmen. And we can do some thieving while we’re there.”

  “If it means adventure, I’m in.” Shara quipped reasonably, picking through some cheese on the bureau. “Besides, thieving comes easy in any city. As long as we stay together.”

  Luc eyed her, and Ghrenna thought she saw a glimmer of anger there. “Lintesh is not just any city. You wanna tangle with Palace Guard? Be my guest. Only the best thieves work Lintesh, and their Consortium is a tight-knit bitchfest.”

  Ghrenna paused to lean on one stout canopy post, her strength flagging after the pain and useless talk. “You grew up in Lintesh, didn’t you, Luc?”

  He nodded, still staring at the frayed lace. “I left when I was twelve. I’m not going back.”

  Shara sighed with irritation. “We go together or we don’t go at all. Split up, we’re useless to work the jobs we work. Luc can’t climb for shit, I can’t hardly lockpick, Ghrenna can’t work a party, and Gherris has no restraint. Unanimous vote, or we don’t go.”

  Gherris threw a small knife to the stone without a moment’s hesitation. “I’m in.”

  Shara paused, then threw her knife in also. “I’m in, too. The gentr
y are beginning to recognize me too easily here in Fhouria. They’re suspicious. I gotta move on.”

  Ghrenna took a long draw on her pipe as her head lanced. Going to Lintesh would mean facing Olea, but this vision had been too important. If there was one person who was in a position to consider such an important vision, or to provide a current context for the political machinations of the Crown, it would be the Captain-General of the Guard. But going to face Olea would mean diving back in, deep into memories long made still within Ghrenna’s heart.

  Ghrenna drew her knife, flipped it, put it away. “I have to think on it. Give me the night.”

  “Luc?” Gherris was all tension.

  Luc hadn’t moved on the bed, hands still laced behind his head. “Nope. I told you, I’m not going back to Lintesh.”

  “Fucking ghennie!” Gherris snarled. “Throw your knife in, or so help me, I’ll gut you!”

  “Nope. And your threats aren’t helping me change my mind.”

  “Come on, Luc,” Shara wheedled. “We’re getting played out in Fhouria. You know it as well as I do.”

  “Nope.”

  Ghrenna sighed, exhausted, her mind constantly drifting to Elohl. Threllis helped her focus, but sometimes that focus turned to obsessiveness. And Elohl was not what she needed to be obsessing over right now. She took a long pull of her pipe. “Let’s discuss it again tomorrow. We all need sleep.”

  “Fuck that.” Gherris’ eyes were wrathful ink. “I’m going out.”

  “Going to go kill somebody to feel better?” Luc was still staring up at the canopy.

  The tension between the two men snapped like a bowstring. Gherris was a flash of motion as he surged from the bedpost, but Luc was faster. His knifepoint pricked the hollow of Gherris’ throat mid-lunge, before the younger man could raise his own. Livid with rage, Gherris was frozen, not even a hair of his short-cropped black curls moving, breathing hard and trapped. Luc had only risen halfway from his reclining leisure.

  “Back off, boy,” Luc growled, all trace of humor gone. Ghrenna was reminded suddenly of the killer that lived beneath Luc’s merriment. She had seen it before, and each time it was like Luc had ripped a mask from his face, to reveal a demon beneath. He was a man who rarely angered, but Gherris had just pushed his limit. Gherris lowered his knife, turning it slowly and sliding it back into his harness.

  Ghrenna stretched out a hand, placing it on Luc’s knife, slowly pushing it away from Gherris’ throat. “Let’s just get some sleep.”

  “Fuck that.” Gherris snarled, using the moment to pull away, hulking off towards the entrance to Ghrenna’s section of the grotto. She watched him go as Luc slid his knife away. Shara turned towards Ghrenna with a wry smile.

  “Better to let him go work it out. Do you need anything, Ghren? Should I sleep in here with you tonight?”

  Ghrenna shook her head. Her headache had dulled some, and the searing after-flashes of her vision were fading. “No. I’ll be fine. Go get some sleep in your own chamber. We can talk more in the morning.”

  Shara gave an understanding smile. “There’s cheese and fruit over here on the bureau, if you need something.”

  “Thanks.” A warm fondness for her guildmate’s thoughtfulness made Ghrenna smile. Shara always mothered, but sometimes it was welcome. Shara nodded, and with a pointed glance at Luc, something between a warning and reproach, finally turned and slipped silently from the cavern. Turning, Ghrenna found that Luc had settled to the bed, his boots back up on her covers.

  “Are you going to be my keeper tonight?” Ghrenna murmured around her pipe, trying to tease.

  He glanced over. Luc tried to grin, but it was tight, worried. “Your bed is a haven of comfort, milady. There is no place I would rather be.”

  “You can go back to your chamber, Luc. Really. I’ll be fine.”

  “Not with a problem like you have. Nope. Sometimes people who have seizures stop breathing when they sleep, after an episode. So I’m sleeping here tonight.”

  Ghrenna blinked. “How do you know so much about seizures?”

  He gave a wry smile. “No reason.”

  “What are you hiding? Were you apprenticed to a physician, once?”

  “Trying to pick into my past isn’t getting you sleep, Ghren.” Luc patted the coverlet next to him.

  He was right. It was a query for another time. Already, Ghrenna’s limbs felt like lead, and her headache had rolled back enough that sleep was possible. Ghrenna picked through the cheese and fruits upon her bureau, having a few bites before she moved towards the bed, knowing hunger would make the headache blossom again. At last, she shucked her gear and leathers, everything down to her silk undergarments and crawled under, exhausted. Luc reached down to unbuckle his boots, then kick them off the bed finally. Ghrenna scooted backwards and Luc reached out, pulling her close, his front spooning her back. They didn’t often sleep together like this, for comfort, but every now and again Luc had nights he wanted her company not for sex, just for closeness. But this time, it was Ghrenna who was grateful. Pushing away stubborn images of Elohl that tried to surface, Ghrenna burrowed into her pillows, breathing in the warm scent of Luc’s sandalwood musk.

  Taking it from her lips, Ghrenna set her pipe upon the bedstand, leaving it lit so she could breathe the last of the smoke as she fell asleep. She was nearly there, just drifting off to dreams, when Luc shifted with a sigh. He sat up. Ghrenna heard the clatter of his leather harness hit the grotto floor. Then his leather doublet followed, then she felt him shuck his shirt. He flopped back to the pillows, winding his arms about her middle again.

  “Ghren? You awake?” One hand caressed her ribs.

  “You’re being noisy.”

  “Sorry.” A long pause. “I can’t go back to Lintesh, Ghren.”

  Ghrenna blinked open bleary eyes, rolling a little to see Luc’s green gaze by the steady light of the lanterns. Frowning with an unusual moroseness, all his regular merriment had fled. As she gazed at him, he sighed in an irritated fashion and rolled to his back, staring up at the rotten canopy.

  “You’re never this stubborn about anything, Luc.” Ghrenna murmured, rolling over to face him, worried about the way he was acting. “What’s got you so worked up about Lintesh?”

  “My family will find me.”

  Ghrenna blinked. “I thought you grew up on Lintesh’s streets. That you didn’t have any family.”

  His grin was sour in the lamplight, more of a grimace. “Partly. My family didn’t have a lot of time for me, we’ll put it that way. I escaped to the streets whenever I could… to get away from them. Ever heard of the Lhorissians?”

  Ghrenna rose up to one elbow in sheer surprise, ignoring the vicious throb in her head. “King’s Physicians. Are you saying you’re of the line of the King’s personal doctor? That you grew up in Roushenn Palace?”

  “Yeah, don’t remind me.” His hard smile was pained. “But I’m not the firstborn son. Firstborn sons become King’s Physician. Second sons don’t get much. An apothecary post in some obscure township, sometimes a post in one of the bigger cities. I wasn’t the favored son.”

  Ghrenna blinked at him, trying to take in the truth of the man lounging upon her bed. It made sense now, Luc’s haughty manners, his teasing demeanor that wouldn’t have been out of place in a court. His gambling, his strange idleness that ran undercurrent to everything he did, his more than competent ability with weapons. All habits he would have picked up young from living in a palace. “But the King’s Physician is knighted. And so are his sons, even if they don’t ascend the post. You are a lord…”

  His chuckle was sad. “Yeah, Lord Luc after all… some lord I turned out to be. But I can’t go back there.”

  “So your family will find you. So what? You don’t have to become King’s Physician.”

  “Oh, but you’re wrong.” Luc rolled towards her, gazing at her with a bitter humor. “My older brother Arlas died four years ago. And a messenger came to find me recently, from Lintesh. He was no
sy, asking around. Someone told him about me, described me. Sent the fellow to a tavern I gamble at. The messenger found me, told me my father died a number of months ago, just a few weeks before the King himself. I had to take him to a quiet alley and kill him, so he wouldn’t send word back about me.”

  “So your father’s dead. What about your other brothers?”

  “There are no more sons.” Luc murmured. “I’m supposed to ascend the position. And they’ll keep sending fellows after me, until they haul me back to Roushenn. When this messenger doesn’t return… the Chancellors will send someone more capable…”

  Ghrenna pursed her lips in thought. “Could you do it? Do you know what you need to, to ascend the post of King’s Physician?”

  Luc chuckled roughly. “Oh, I know it, all right. A thousand and one remedies for all the worst diseases. Drummed into me since I was three years old, usually at the end of a switch. But that’s not the reason I’m slated to follow my father’s line.”

  “What is?”

  “This.” Luc reached out, splaying his fingers over Ghrenna’s face in a light dance. And where they went, her headache rolled back to a dull pounding. She closed her eyes in rapture, drinking in ease for the first time in memory. Luc’s long fingers roved her head, stroking her hair, played along her jawline, smoothed tension from her brow, and traced gently over her closed eyelids, removing pain from her eye sockets like drawing blood with leeches. Ghrenna couldn’t open her eyes. It was bliss to be this relaxed, to have her head humming with peace. There was still a trace of pain, just a reminder, but it was far away, stuffed under pillows.

  After a few minutes, he ceased. “Better?”

  “Gods, Luc… what did you do?” Ghrenna sighed in a floating bliss.

  His chuckle was wry. “What I was born to do. Only one person in three generations of den’Lhorissians has it. But the King keeps track of us, just in case one of us develops the healing gift. My gift showed itself when I was eleven. I escaped Lintesh shortly thereafter, but every now and again, I’ll get a messenger like the one who found me this time. They’re good with weapons, Ghren, and they don’t take no for an answer. What I did for you tonight will wear off, but every healing will make your headaches better and better. I’ll do it for you, but swear to me you won’t tell anyone. I’m not the King’s pet. And I never will be.”