Chapter 19

Dishonourable Actions

Femira jumped.

It was an involuntary response but it had been so many months since anyone had used her real name that it had caught her off guard. It was becoming this closely guarded secret, this tiny thing she kept inside just for her. Hearing Darza say it made her feel exposed. A similar feeling to the—very—few times she’d been caught thieving back in Altarea, back before Lichtin had taken her under his wing.

“H-how,” she stammered.

“You know the resemblance really is remarkable…” Darza mused looking her over, “not as noticeable when you were a dirty street dog, but I suppose put you in a dress and you do make for a good imitation of her.”

“You remember me?” Fuck! She really hadn’t anticipated running into someone who would’ve recognised her as Femira… But how had Darza learned that name?

“How do you know my name?” She hissed at him.

“It doesn’t really matter how I know,” he replied.

“Eh, yeah—it kinda does,” she said, through gritted teeth, “do you have any idea how much danger you’re putting yourself in saying that name?” Aggression was becoming her go-to response when she felt tense, she’d realised. Had that just started since she’d become more competent with fighting, or had it been going on longer?

“I do not fear Lichtin and his crew,” Darza snorted derisively, “you’re all out of your depth here… flying before you can even call the wind,” the man almost looked concerned.

He thinks I’m still working with Lichtin on this, she thought with amusement.

“You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Femira scoffed.

“Be careful Femira, don’t forget that I can expose you anytime I want.”

“That would be the stupidest thing you could possibly do. Even if anyone were to believe you, there would be very bad consequences for you… What even makes you think it’s Lichtin I’m working with on this?” Darza took on a defensive expression snd Femira pressed on, “well, you haven’t done anything stupid yet so I’m guessing you want something?”

“But Lichtin… he said…” the gears in Darza’s head seemed to be pretty slow movers. How did this idiot become a captain? “He said that you were still on a job for him,” Darza murmured, mostly to himself.

“Lichtin doesn’t even know I’m here, does he?”

I will find you and you’ll be fucking sorry you crossed me. Lichtin had loved to remind her of that. Somehow now that she’d been training with the bloodshedders, Lichtin’s words didn’t sound so intimidating. What could he do to her? But then a small voice in her mind chided; you’re not a real bloodshedder. They’ve just been keeping you occupied so that they can parade you about as Annali Jahar.

“What do you want, Darza?” she snapped. The Altareans weren’t as ridiculously tall as the Reldoni so Femira only had to stretch herself up a little to be face-to-face with the man. He looked somewhat defeated, he likely had not expected Femira to be so dismissive of his threats.

“I don’t know what you’re doing here,” he said eventually, his confidence evidently shaken, “but it’s clear you’re helping the Reldoni secure this treaty… for reasons I cannot grasp.”

To be fair to Darza, Femira didn’t fully grasp why she was doing either of those things either. What did she care if Altarea and Reldon slipped back into conflict.

“Highlord Ingel is a decent man,” Darza continued, “he’s unassuming and avoids confrontation, likely why the Reldoni chose him amongst the other highborn to be Highlord… but he’s not right for the position, Altarea needs someone strong to lead them.”

“And you think that should be you?” Femira asked with a laugh.

“And why not?” he replied, pompously puffing out his chest, “I’m one of the highest ranking stormguards in Altarea.”

“Yeah, because most of them were killed in the assault.”

“I’m of good birth and—more importantly—I too believe that the Reldoni are the way forward for Altarea.”

“You don’t care that they killed your King?”

“Do you?”

“Couldn’t give six shits,” she said, flippantly, “but I was a thief and you were a stormguard, aren’t you supposed to have some kind of deluded sense of royal loyalty?”

“One King’s not so different to another,” he replied, “all I’m asking is that you push the wind in a particular direction… my direction. You’ve somehow stolen your way into a position of power so perhaps you are a better thief than I gave you credit. Annali Jahar was very much loved by the Altarean highborn, and they’ve seen me as a coward ever since I surrendered the stormstone mines to the Reldoni. They fail to see that a wise leader knows when to surrender and when to fight… Tell them that you support the actions I took that night, that you think I should take over command of the remaining stormguards from that doddering fool Himsbrack.” Himsbrack, Femira guessed, was the elderly man that she had argued with earlier.

“Do that, and I won’t expose you,” Darza offered.

“And what’s stopping me from letting my employer know that you’re blackmailing me and leaving you to deal with him?” she said, matter-of-factly.

“I’m taking the risk that you won’t want to admit that you’ve been caught,” he said.

Fuck! He’s right. It was a good bet, she had no desire to go to Garld with this. She didn’t want him thinking that she had failed to keep her persona intact. But was there a way she could use this to her advantage? Could she somehow use this man as a means to escape Epilas?

“I will help you,” she said, carefully, “but I might ask for a favour in return.”

“I don’t think you’re in much of a position to be asking me for a favour.”

“As far as anyone is concerned, I’m the real Annali. The longer that stays the case… the better it will be for you,” she said, “but when the time comes, I might need your help in return.”

“If you’re exposed, you mean?”

“Not exactly…” at least that wasn’t her biggest worry, “I can’t go back to Keiran,” she said. “I’d sooner go back to Altarea than there, so if the time comes and the Honorswords try to take me back, I will need your help to stop them taking me.”

“And how am I supposed to stop an Honorsword?” he looked worryingly to the two yellow garbed warriors on the other side of the feasting hall.

“If we do this right, you should have command of the remaining stormguards.”

She dared a glance over to the Honorswords herself and felt her breath catch at the combination of people they were speaking with; Landryn in his form fitting black military style suit and Garld in his own similar attire. The pair of them alone speaking with Honorswords would have been enough to set a knot in Femira’s stomach but also with them was a young Reldoni woman and pale, white-haired boy.

Her mouth dropped a fraction. She recognised his soft, strange features immediately as the boy who had jumped her the night she had snuck into Averstock’s manse.

What?! It didn’t make any sense, why were they all casually talking to each other right in the middle of the feasting hall? Garld of all people talking with the Honorswords and the boy who had stolen the documents he was after.

What is he doing?

“You fear them,” Darza said. Femira didn’t bother denying it, her heart thumped every time she saw the yellow cloaks and red eyes. “The Honorswords are not what you people think they are. They’re executioners with the same authority as a judge… and they don’t need a trial to dish out that justice.”

She watched as the bizarre group broke apart, Garld heading off to join with a group of other military officers and the Honorswords moving towards Daurond and the Altareans. Landryn, the Reldoni woman and the white-haired boy left together for one of the exits leading out of the feast hall.

Where were they going? Femira couldn’t help herself but take a step after them.

“So it’s a deal?” Darza asked before she was too far away from him to be overheard from nearby highborn. She gave him a quick nod in agreement, and then discreetly followed after Landryn. As she made her way through the crowd, she’d noticed Jaz trying to make his way over to her and she curtly waved him off without breaking stride.

The silk dress wasn’t ideal for sneaking about, she would much prefer to be back in her dark stealth gear but when an opportunity arose, you make do with what you have. Garld would probably have said something along the lines of ‘a soldier doesn’t always pick his environment’ or something like that. As she entered the hallway, she gently kicked off her shoes, her bare feet touching against the cold stone. It felt good, having a piece of her skin touching against the stone. Her earthstone hummed to her in response to it. A pair of Reldoni guards with black armour, watched her as she passed but said nothing, trailing after the Prince and his companions. She tried to increase her pace without drawing too much attention so that she could listen in on their conversation but she couldn’t get close enough without raising suspicion, so she hung back. A few other highborn were also walking along the hallway coming and going from the feasting hall so she didn’t stick out too much. They turned down another walkway and then up a stairs and out onto a large balcony.

Balcony wasn’t exactly the correct word here. It was large enough for decorative gardens to be cultivated along the wall with still enough room for a dozen people to walk abreast. The feast was taking place in one of the uppermost levels of the enormous Pillar of Reldon.

The Pillar was a seemingly natural tower of stone that thrust into the sky—Although it was becoming increasingly difficult for Femira to determine what was natural and what wasn’t. Ancient stoneshapers from what she’d read had managed feats that runeweilders of today could only dream of.

The Reldoni royal palace was built around the pillar itself with parts of the palace tunnelling into the stone. Femira didn’t doubt that gardened balconies spread up and down the pillar. This one seemed to fully stretch around the pillar in a full ring built out from the natural stone. Like Judgement Hall and the other government buildings across the bay in Epilas, the stonework was so impossibly smooth that it had to have been crafted by master stoneshapers.

The view was even more incredible, both Luna and Ecko’s light working together to illuminate the bay in a dim swash of blue and red light. Unlike the stormy overcast skies of Altarea, Reldoni nights were often clear and bright. Even when only one moon hung in the sky, the combination of moon and starlight was enough to see well by. The gaslamps in the streets of Epilas lit the city aglow in orange light radiating from the city and into the night sky, blending with the blue and red light of the moons.

Femira didn’t allow herself much time to awe at the extravagant view and continued after Landryn. They walked at a leisurely pace which meant Femira didn’t have to rush to keep up with them. While the light of the moons and the gaslamps brought a lot of light, they also cast deep shadows by which she could sink herself into, allowing the darkness to envelop her.

It felt good to be hiding in the shadows again, it wasn’t so different to when she would tail a mark for a few weeks to learn their habits so she would know when to best break into their house… Except, instead of some merchant, she was tailing the Commander of the Reldoni army, and a well renowned runewielder in his own right.

With the advantage of having the shadows to hide in, Femira felt more confident moving closer to listen in on their conversation. She grinned to herself, revelling in the rush she got from being able to sneak undetected.

The Prince and his companions found a secluded bench which had a spectacular vantage of the view. Conveniently for Femira, there was a manicured hedge row behind the bench which she could discreetly linger behind. She was close enough that—with only a little straining—she could make out their conversation.

“He’s not safe up there, you should speak with father,” the young Reldoni woman said to Landryn, her tone implying she held every ounce of authority that Landryn did despite being clearly younger and lesser ranked than him.

“Father has never listened to me on this matter… and likely never will. Perhaps you should try,” Femira recognised Landryn’s voice from the day in Judgement Hall.

“And you think he will be more likely to listen to me?” she replied, her voice was high and more girlish indicating she was younger than what Femira had assumed.

Those damn tall Reldoni.

She had been walking with her arm linked with the white-haired boy. They were likely about the same age.

She’s Landryn’s sister?

Femira suddenly realised the absurdity of what she was doing, it wasn’t like they were going to just be casually talking about their secret plots out in the open.

Although Darza hadn’t bothered with any subterfuge.

Maybe this was just how highborn did this kind of thing… out in the open. Femira wasn’t buying it. The presence of the white-haired boy had sparked in her a curiosity that she couldn't ignore. He had dissolved the road that night so quickly and effectively that Femira couldn’t help herself wanting to know more about him.

“I’ll send word to Captain Ferath, tell him to increase the size of the guard on our brother, will that keep your mind at ease?” Landryn said.

“You think this is just me worrying?” she asked with genuine concern, “Lan, this is a real threat, I think he might be in danger… and he’s so defenceless,” Allyn was her name, if Femira recalled her lessons with Aden correctly.

Or was it Ellen?

“I believe you,” Landry replied, “and trust me, no one cares more for Daegan’s safety than me. Why do you think I convinced Lukane to send him up there in the first place?”

“Because he was an embarrassment,” she retorted.

“I’m not having this conversation with you again… I’ve never been ashamed of Daegan. Besides, your other little project is of more concern to me right now,” he said, and through the obscured view of the hedge Femira saw Landryn waving his hand at the white-haired boy.

When the boy spoke, Femira was immediately reminded of his strange unplaceable accent, “oh us,” he said with a casual flair, “we are not of any consequence to you, Prince Landryn.”

“Vestyr is right,” Allyn replied innocently, “the rumours of what we’re doing have been grossly exaggerated.”

“You’re training a force of elite runewielders without the army’s permission,” Landryn said sternly, “be very careful, Allyn, people are beginning to talk… They’re worried you’re planning on rivalling Lukane as heir.”

“I’m within my right to do that,” she said, sheepishly, “The firstborn son and firstborn daughter both have equal claim to the throne. The High Councils would have the power to choose me if they wanted.”

“I’m well aware of that. You won’t have the War Council on your side, Allyn.”

“And why not? I already know that the Generals think that Lukane lacks the same... ambition as you and I. If you support my claim, Landryn, the Generals will follow you. Garld is basically your father, more than ours ever was and the others respect you.”

“You won’t win them over—or me—if you continue training these secret runewielders,” he said. Femira couldn’t believe it, they really were just talking openly about betraying their older brother. This was full-blown treason from what Femira could guess—she wasn’t entirely sure, but it sounded an awful lot like it. And they were just casually talking about it out on a balcony where anyone in a bright red dress barely hidden by a hedge could be listening in.

They weren’t even the only ones on the balcony, there was a couple getting really cosy over by the palisade, another pair of highborn women that seemed to be having their own secretive—and potentially treasonous—conversation on another bench further down and…

A golden clad dark-skinned Keiran man striding in her direction.

Oh fuck! Her heart leapt. It was Honorsword Karas!

He was alone and walking directly towards her! In a sudden panic, she stepped out from the shadows walking past Landryn, Allyn and the white-haried boy nonchalantly. They barely gave her a glance as she strode past. She made her way across the balcony, increasing her pace as she winded around the curvature of the pillar. She could hear Karas’ boots thumping against the stone as he followed her. She didn’t dare risk a look back. She resisted all urges to run, she needed to play this carefully. The real Annali would never have run at full pelt away from an Honorsword. Femira would have but that’s because Femira was smart and why Annali was likely dead in some dungeon in Altarea. She needed to get back inside the pillar and lose him in the hallways.

She passed a row of neat hedges as she rounded the ring of the balcony. Having come halfway along the diameter of the pillar from the door she’d come in through, Femira could see that there was a stairs built into the wall that led up to a higher balcony above. The balcony above also looked to fully encircle the pillar. She took the steps lightly in her bare feet, but notably increasing her pace again.

“Annali,” A deep voice called to her. It was Karas, the same voice that had challenged Landryn in Judgement Hall.

Femira froze.

This was it.