Home > Allegiance(6)

Allegiance(6)
Author: Kilian Grey

“The Guild of Smithery and the Royal Moon mercenaries,” Vasil replied.

“You have no rights here,” Earl added from his post behind a metal carton.

The scout scoffed. “The only mercenary group permitted in Windilum is the Blood Moon sanctioned by our kingdom’s only ruler, Duke Kieran Easton. The Royal Moon is not sanctioned by law. You are not to disobey our orders.”

“We do not follow Duke Easton’s rule,” Earl said. “He is not the true ruler of our kingdom.”

Another scout shot the metal carton Earl hid behind, the shot echoing in warning.

“His Excellency Emoris handed Windilum to Duke Easton. You will allow us to search your camp for King Faust,” the scout ordered.

“King Faust,” Vasil repeated.

Faust’s heart skipped a beat.

“King Faust Kingsley was last spotted heading in this direction. He should be severely ill,” the scout said. “He is to be turned over to His Excellency Lathil’s Blessed, Relan, immediately. King Faust will be transported to Arkney.”

Fire crackled around Vasil. A fire stone ignited at the deity’s hip, speckling the air with embers. “That king is in my lands?”

Faust slid down the wall, vertigo grabbing hold of him. He clenched his hands tight, knuckles white.

“Lord Arcus!” Roe gasped.

Faust’s mind raced. Vasil would kill him if he linked Lord Arcus to King Faust. The bloodlust in the deity’s aura was unmistakable. Earl knew who he was, if he made one slip up, it could be the end of him. He’d run from one danger only to slide into another.

Roe rubbed the king’s back.

“Vas cannot learn who I really am,” Faust whispered, his eyes boring into Roe’s.

The healer paused. “Lord Walder ordered us to never speak of your identity once we found you. You are safe,” Roe reassured with a smile.

Tension in Faust’s shoulders loosened. Leave it to Ignas to protect him even from afar. He shook his head and stood with Roe’s help. He needed to see this fight.

“Stop stalling,” the scout growled. “We know he must be here. Hand him over.”

Vasil chuckled, and the embers twirled in the air.

The scouts tightened their holds on their guns.

“Lord Arcus,” Vasil called.

Faust jumped.

“They want to search us, which is not favorable, so that means they are fair game?”

The scout snarled. “Lord Arcus is wanted as well. He, too, is to be taken to Arkney on the Blessed’s orders.”

Faust didn’t move any closer to the hull. He wasn’t foolish enough to give his position away by speaking. Relan must not have known he was Lord Arcus.

“You cannot have him,” Vasil said, and the fire stone sparked even brighter. Embers swirled together in a giant bird, the roaring flames echoing in a shrill sound.

Faust couldn’t believe his eyes. It was as if the flames were alive.

The scouts bellowed and aimed at the fire-bird in their panic. Bullets ricocheted off the sides of the Volliare and metal cartons.

Vasil snapped his fingers.

The earth moved, twisting and spiking up at the scouts, just missing the horses. The horses spooked, tossing one rider while the others tried to run back into the forest.

Vasil unhooked a gun from his belt and aimed. He fired with precision—two riders slumped. The third fired back, and the bullet melted into an invisible wall of heat in front of the deity. Vasil fired again.

Faust winced. Vasil’s aim was impeccable. The scouts didn’t have a chance.

Vasil moved his hand up, and the fire-bird swirled into the air, rising higher and higher. The deity grasped his hand closed.

An explosion erupted overhead and pieces of metal rained on the camp.

“I surrender!” the last scout shouted, bowing his head to the dirt. “Please don’t kill me.”

Vasil sneered and raised his gun. The shot echoed as the body slumped into a puddle of blood.

The wind whistled.

Vasil moved to the side, grabbing the arrow and snapped it in half. The deity fired into the trees. Another scout fell to the ground. “Dishonorable scum.”

Faust clenched his fists.

“That is the last of them,” Vasil announced and put his gun away, the fire stone falling silent. He turned and walked toward the Volliare.

Faust swallowed.

“Prepare for takeoff,” Earl bellowed. “It won’t be long before Relan realizes what happened.”

Vasil paused and snapped his fingers again. Flames engulfed the dead bodies, spreading their ashes into the wind. The ground rumbled and shifted, covering the burned outlines as if they never existed.

Silence fell over the camp.

“Let them try to find us,” Vasil said with a shrug. “They will meet the same fate.” The deity continued on his way as the camp sprang back into action at Earl’s bellow.

 

 

Four

 

 

Faust waited at the hull of the airship and kept his expression as controlled as possible.

Vasil strode into the hull and stopped an arm’s length away from the king. He did not say a word, and neither did Faust.

“We’re in the way here,” Roe interjected in the silence. “Let us get you to a comfortable room, Lord Arcus.”

Faust nodded, grateful for Roe’s presence. “Please lead the way.” He took a few steps and staggered.

Vasil caught the king by the waist, hoisting him into his arms. “I believe the healer said something about not walking.”

Faust saw stars, vertigo hitting him like a rock. He gave the deity a flat stare once he could see straight.

Vasil smiled.

“He must not be jostled, mercenary,” Roe said with a tap of his foot on the ground. “Follow me.”

The healer led the pair through several hallways as the crew broke the camp down for departure. Faust glanced at the doors and raised an eyebrow. This Volliare wasn’t the same one he’d been on back in Alios. The doors were metal with jeweled handles and bore an engraved crest of Windilum. Ancient tongue sat below the crests. Vasil moved too fast for him to read them, but he assumed they must have been for the officers in the crew.

Roe stopped at an elaborately engraved door and pulled out a metal key, unlocking it.

A familiar warmth wafted from the room and Faust perked. This was Ignas’s room. He leaned, but Vasil held fast. Faust stilled and regarded the deity. Vasil wasn’t looking at him, but the door.

“Don’t just stand there,” Roe said.

Vasil shook his head. “Can you read what this says?”

Roe shrugged. “Earl insisted upon it. Something about it being needed later.”

Vasil glanced at the text again. “Whose room is this?”

“Lord Ignas Walder’s,” Roe said with a wave of his hand. “Now get over here. Lord Arcus cannot rest in your arms. He needs a proper bed.”

Faust took a moment to stare at the ancient tongue before Vasil moved, but he only caught sight of part of the word: Che—. That made little sense. Was captain spelled differently in the past? Ignas was a captain whether he admitted it or not. Everyone followed his orders, even now.

Vasil sat Faust on the bed and took a step back.

Faust let his magic embrace the warmth Ignas left with a faint smile on his lips.

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