A Warden's Purpose (Wardens of Issalia Book 1) Read online

  “We must warn them,” Everson said with conviction.

  “You’re right, Son. They must know what happened so they can prepare. Even if the Vinacci forces advance no further, I expect that our city is lost. Despite the years that have passed since The Horde invasion, the population of Cinti Mor is a fraction of what it once was. The only hope is that word reached the Citadel in time to secure it.”

  “What about that explosion?” Quinn asked. “What was it? Can the Citadel stand against something like that?”

  Her father shook his head. “I don’t know, Quinn.”

  Quinn looked into the fire and realized that the flames had grown weaker, as if exhausted from a long day. Feeling her own exhaustion, she rubbed her dry and weary eyes.

  “The tent is ready. Why don’t you children go to bed?” Polly suggested. “We will join you shortly.”

  “I…think it best if I sleep under the wagon, Polly,” Evers said.

  She turned toward him. “Why?”

  “While I think it unlikely for them to pursue us this far, I should watch for Vinacci soldiers. They sent those two men after us for a reason. Besides, there is always the threat of bandits.”

  Concern reflected in her eyes, mirroring what Quinn felt inside. She recalled the fear she felt when the Vinacci soldiers had chased after them. While her actions had saved her family, she knew that luck had played a significant part in her success. Things could have easily turned out far worse. The thought made her shudder.

  Everson grabbed his canes and pushed himself to a standing position. “Come on, Quinn. Let’s go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

  Without a word, she stood, circled the fire and opened the tent flap to allow her brother inside.

  Quinn’s eyes flashed open and she sat upright, the nightmare lingering. The tent was dark, still under the shroud of night. Her brother slept beside her and her mother beyond him.

  A distant wail echoed in the night…the same horrible sound from her nightmare. She gasped, her heart racing. Her brother woke with a start, as did her mother. A shadow appeared outside the tent, tall and imposing. Quinn stared at the silhouette in fear.

  “Quiet, now,” her father said in a hushed voice from outside the tent.

  “What is it?” Quinn whispered.

  “Banshee.”

  Polly gasped audibly. Quinn and Everson looked toward each other.

  While Quinn had never seen a banshee, the stories were plentiful. The Horde was an army made of the giant beasts, their voices laced with dreadful magic that drove the most courageous of men to despair. Mindless monsters, banshees were known to eat anything they found…dead or alive.

  “What should we do?” Polly whispered.

  “Unless it finds us, we stay here and remain quiet,” Evers’ hushed voice carried through the tent wall. “If it finds us, don’t leave the tent. I’ll do what I can to draw it away.”

  His shadow moved away from the tent, the crunch of his footsteps fading until Quinn only heard the sound of her own panting breaths. She lay down and pulled the blanket to her chin, listening to the night while praying that she would hear nothing of note. Hours passed, yet the banshee did not come…nor did sleep.

  New Kardis was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The architecture and design held much in common with Cinti Mor but was in better condition. The city walls appeared original and intact, three stories tall and encircling the city save for the gates to the east and west. When their wagon passed through the eastern gate, Quinn gazed in wonder at streets covered in shadows cast by the setting sun.

  Dressed in everything from rags to finery, crowds of people milled about, heading toward their destinations or conducting business. Carts and shops lined the streets, selling food and wares to eager patrons. Guards strolled past, their shoulders marked with blue and yellow stripes. She had never seen so many people.

  The wagon slowed, easing down the main boulevard as the foot traffic gave way to the workhorses. They happened upon an inn, the sign above the door marked with the image of a fat bird with a red head, black neck, and brown body. The words Happy Crowster Inn were etched below the image of the bird.

  Evers drove the wagon into the alley beside the inn and into the courtyard at the back. As the wagon came to a stop, a skinny man appeared, his back hunched at the shoulders from his slouching posture. He wore a stained tan tunic, which may have been white at one point. Black suspenders held his trousers up – trousers that sagged between the straps as they threatened to abandon him. The man gave them a toothy smile from a hatchet face crested by a mess of dirty blond locks.

  “Hello. Are you staying for the night?”

  Evers nodded. “Yes. We need a room for four along with some food and water for our horses.”

  “My name is Stigg. I’ll be taking care of your horses.” He thumbed toward the stable at the back. “I can lock your wagon inside, so you needn’t be worrying about your things getting stolen or anything.”

  Evers climbed down from the wagon before turning to help Polly down. “Good idea. See that nothing happens to our goods and it’s worth a silver piece for you.”

  Stigg’s blue eyes brightened. “Yessir!” He stepped back with a bow and held his hand toward the back door of the inn. “Step on inside and ask for Trudy. She’s the owner, and she’ll set you up like royalty, she will.”

  Quinn leapt from the wagon bed and turned to take the canes from Everson. Her father lifted the boy from the wagon, grunting at his weight. He stood Everson beside the wagon while Quinn handed the canes to her brother. Led by Evers and Polly, the four of them entered the inn.

  A corridor led them to a common room with a vaulted ceiling supported by open beams. Quinn searched the room and found it filled with men drinking ale, women sipping wine, and a smattering of folks eating dinner. The scent of smoked fish and roasted corn teased her senses and left her stomach complaining. She noticed a bar at the far end of the room – lined with patrons – while an open stairwell stood to her other side with a dark wooden railing that led to the rooms upstairs.

  Evers turned toward them. “Wait here.”

  Without waiting on a response, he crossed the busy room to lean against the open end of the bar. After a quick conversation with the short woman behind the counter, he returned across the room.

  “I paid for a room and dinner.” He turned toward Polly and held a key out toward her. “Our room is upstairs, at the end of the hall. You should stay with the children, but I must meet with the duke to tell him what happened.”

  Polly appeared doubtful. “Will he believe you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I have no proof, but I must try.”

  “I can go with you, Father,” Quinn suggested.

  He turned toward her, his blue eyes meeting hers. After a moment, he acquiesced. “That might help, and it certainly cannot hurt.”

  “Is that safe?” Polly’s voice rang with concern.

  “Quinn appears fairly capable of taking care of herself if need be, but I doubt anything bad can come of this.”

  Polly turned toward Quinn. “Mind your tongue, dear. Like a tail that wags the dog, you have a tendency to let it lead you to trouble. When talking to a duke, it might draw more trouble than we can manage.”

  Quinn smiled. “Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise.”

  Polly gave her a hug before turning toward Evers and hugging the big man. Quinn’s gaze shifted to Everson’s dark eyes, which locked on hers.

  “You must make them believe you. These people,” Everson turned toward the crowded room, “are counting on you.”

  He then turned and followed Polly to the stairwell, easing himself upward one step at a time while Quinn and her father headed out the front door.

  When they stepped outside, twilight had given way to nightfall, leaving the area dark beyond the blue nimbus of the glowlamp mounted beside the door. The crowd had thinned, but dozens of people still occupied the street.

  �
�I saw the Citadel after we passed through the gate, at the heart of the city.” Evers turned and led her down the street as Quinn hurried to catch the tall man.

  They passed numerous shops, most closed, their interiors dark. A wagon rolled past, heading out of the city as the farmer driving it returned home. The dirt streets turned to cobblestone at the next corner, leaving Quinn feeling as if someone had forgotten to finish paving the city. A glowlamp on a post lit the intersection, shedding light down a street that curved in both directions. Quinn spied two armed guards with strips of blue and yellow on the shoulder of their leather jerkins.

  She tugged her father’s sleeve. “Father! Look!” She gestured toward the guards. “Guards with Hurnsdom colors. Maybe they can get us in to see the duke.”

  “Good idea.” The man switched directions.

  He approached the two men, in the midst of a quiet discussion. The shorter guard, a man with a stocky build and closely shorn hair, noticed Evers approaching and elbowed his companion. The other guard, tall and lanky with long straw-colored bangs combed to the side, turned and eyed Evers warily. A custos rune marked both guard’s foreheads. Not paladins, Quinn thought.

  “Excuse me,” Evers held his hands out, his palms empty. “I have just arrived from Cinti Mor, and I have grave news to report.”

  The shorter guard rested his hand on the pommel of his sword. “It is late. Court will be held tomorrow, two hours past sunup. I suggest you get yourself some sleep and show up at the Citadel in the morning.”

  “I understand,” Evers said. “But you must know that this is a matter of import. Waiting could cost lives…or perhaps the entire city.”

  The shorter guard moved closer to Evers, thrusting his chest out as he stared up at the big man. “Are you threatening me or my city?”

  With a roll of his eyes, Evers replied, “No, you idiot. I’m trying to tell you that Hurnsdom is under an invasion.”

  The taller guard put a hand on the shorter man’s chest and pushed him back as he turned toward Evers.

  “What are you talking about? Who would do such a thing?”

  Quinn couldn’t wait any longer. “It was Vinacci. They attacked Cinti Mor while we were leaving the city.” Her words came out in a flurry. “They sent men after our wagon to kill us so we couldn’t tell anyone.”

  The tall guard grimaced at his companion before turning to face Quinn. “If this were true, girl, how is it that you yet live?”

  She glanced toward her father, who gave a slight nod. “I dumped a workbench from our wagon, and one of the soldiers died when his horse fell over it. The man landed with his neck bent in an ugly way and…he didn’t move again.”

  The guard chuckled. “What of the other soldier?”

  “My father is a smith. I grabbed his hammer and swung it hard as I could. The hammer hit the man in the chest and knocked him from his horse. He didn’t die though…at least he was still alive last we saw him.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “When did this happen?”

  Evers said, “Yesterday morn. We spent two long days traveling through the Kardis Forest to get here and just arrived moments ago.”

  The two guards stared at each other in a long moment as Quinn held her breath, waiting on their response.

  Finally, the tall guard sighed. “Follow us.”

  Quinn had never been inside a castle. She thought about the Citadel in Cinti Mor, recalling the time during her ninth summer when she had tried to sneak inside. It had required some of her best convincing to get Everson to agree to her plan.

  Sent in alone, Everson had used his canes to shuffle his way up the flight of stairs before the gate, struggling as he ascended one stair at a time. Quinn crossed the square during this process, monitoring the guards stationed at the top as they watched her brother. The male remained stoic while concern clouded the face of the woman beside him. Everson reached the top as Quinn reached the bottom. He stumbled, fell sideways, and rolled down the stairs past her. The female guard gasped and ran past Quinn to help the boy. When the male guard moved to the top stair so he could see what transpired below, Quinn slid behind him and darted through the gate.

  With her back to the wall, she stared in wonder at the well-tended shrubs that lined the brick path that led to the gray castle. The front of the building was four stories tall with two sets of double-doors at the base. Rows of windows and balconies dotted the upper levels, the ones on the eastern face overlooking the ocean. A square tower stood at each end of the building, jutting up two stories taller than the rest of the complex. The view from the towers must be amazing.

  Quinn’s focus shifted, looking around to find another path that led to her left, toward a domed temple of sorts, with stained-glass windows inlaid in gold and a massive symbol of Issal on the front. Quinn beamed and decided she would start there.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  She turned to find the male guard looming over her.

  “Um…I just wanted to see…”

  “I’m sorry, but this is no place for children.” He grabbed her arm and escorted her through the gate before he released her. “Go on and find something else to do. Mind that you avoid trouble. Don’t make me report this to my captain.”

  Quinn gasped before turning to descend the stairs, passing the female guard as she joined her brother. Dejected at their failure, the duo headed back to meet their friends at the fountain.

  When she heard her father clear his throat, Quinn blinked, her mind returning to the present. Evers appeared calm until she noticed his thick hands kneading each other. She turned toward the stocky guard who shared the chamber with them. Beside him, the dull blue of the waning glowlamp in the open doorway shed just enough light to reach the corners of the waiting room.

  Two intricately woven tapestries adorned the walls at each end of the room, one depicting a battlefield of men on horseback fighting giants and another showing a likeness of Issal bestowing blessings upon his flock. She moved closer to the second tapestry and squinted, trying to see a face beyond the halo of light that encircled Issal’s head. Someone cleared her throat, drawing Quinn’s attention.

  She turned to find a short woman with dark hair. The lines around her angular eyes marked her as middle-aged and the rune of Issal marked her forehead. A thick robe of blue velvet covered the woman’s body, yet she appeared to have a small frame. The tall guard who had escorted Evers and Quinn to the castle stood beside her.

  “Good evening. I am Duchess Chinu Mae.” Her dark eyes focused on Evers. “I understand you have something to report.”

  Evers bowed his head. “Pardon us for the intrusion, Duchess. We would not bother you if not for news most urgent. We…”

  “I would hear it told from the girl.”

  Her father blinked at the interruption and bowed again. “Of course.”

  Everyone turned toward Quinn. Her stomach fluttered, leaving her nauseated in an instant.

  “What is your name?” the duchess asked.

  “It’s Quinn…Jacquinn Gulagas. But everyone calls me Quinn.”

  “Thank you, Quinn. Can you tell me what happened in Cinti Mor? Don’t leave out any details.”

  “Yes Ma’am.” Quinn took a deep breath and recited her tale, telling the woman of the family leaving Cinti Mor for a journey to Fallbrandt and relaying the attack on the city. When she told the woman of the soldiers who pursued them and what Quinn had done to thwart them, the woman’s brows shot up in surprise. Not one word was said during the telling, not until Quinn concluded her tale with their checking in to The Happy Crowster Inn and heading to the castle.

  The duchess frowned and turned toward Evers. “This is true?”

  He nodded.

  “Do you have anything to add?”

  He shook his head.

  “Thank you for sharing this news. It is certainly dire. Go back to your family and continue your journey to Fallbrandt. I will take the necessary action, so you no longer need worry.” She smiled at Quinn. �
�You focus on your training. Our future will one day be in the hands of your generation.”

  9

  Tact

  Two long days later, they pulled into Berristor, a port located along the southern shore of the Gulf of Norta. As the most western point of Hurnsdom, Berristor was bordered by a forest to the east and mountains to the south and west. With buildings made of red-tinted bricks, the city almost appeared sunburnt in the light of the setting sun.

  After spending a night at a local inn and restocking their supplies, they once again took to the road, which soon entered a wooded valley that ran between mountains to the north and the south. Despite it being well past the heart of summer, snow remained on the towering peaks that surrounded the road. Quinn stared at the view in wonder and decided that she had never seen anything so majestic.

  A barren strip of gray and brown earth ran between the snowcap and the thick green forest that stretched upward from the bottom. The forest itself consisted mainly of dark pines, with occasional clumps of leaf trees scattered here and there. Quinn found herself repeatedly glancing toward the mountains for the remainder of their journey, one that remained happily uneventful.

  After a day and a half of travel through valleys surrounded by giant peaks – on a route that changed directions from westward, to south, and finally eastbound after circling a massive mountain – the family reached the outskirts of Fallbrandt.

  With the afternoon sun behind them, buildings began to appear in the forest that enveloped the road. At first, the buildings were sporadic, as if small bits of civilization were invading the grandeur of nature. This lasted for a while until Quinn realized that they were inside the city. Unlike other cities that she had visited, there was no wall surrounding Fallbrandt. Without such a boundary, she found herself unable to tell where the forest ended and the city began.