Chapter 37

Reining In

Femira had never ridden horseback.

Annali Jahar likely would have but horses were a rare sight in Keiran. The beasts weren’t well suited to the overbearing attention of the sun or the long expanses of desert. Horses needed water and most people in Keiran preferred to keep their water to themselves. Keiran travellers often favoured camels, garrifs or shari’s. Femira had no memories of riding on the backs of any of them, but she did have hazy images of sitting in the back of a cart being dragged along cracked and caked earth by a pair of slow-moving garrif, a rainbow tarp draped over the top of the cart to keep them cool.

This meant that when Femira was stood facing a massive white horse with brown patches, she hadn’t the faintest idea of what to do. She watched as the rest in the group around her effortlessly jumped up into the saddles. Ok, you got this. They’re just sitting on them, it can’t be that hard. She took a step toward the creature and it stamped a hoof in the dusty ground. Alright, stay calm you big lummox.

“You’ve never ridden before, have you?” Jaz asked, already on the back of a sleek black horse, “I hear they don’t keep them in Keiran.”

“They ride camels and these strange horned cows,” Loreli put in, also already mounted. Misandrei and Endrin were on the other side of the courtyard organising the remainder of the group. A dozen decked in black uniforms and a handful of regular soldiers.

“Gariff,” Femira corrected her, “they’re not cows.”

“Here,” Jaz said, jumping down from his horse effortlessly and walking over to her, “just pop your foot in here.” He instructed and guided her leg into the styrup. She felt a bit flush having him hold her leg like that. Jaz was attractive and her body reacted to his touch despite her wanting it not to.

“Careful Jaz, I think your edir might be leaking some heat into her,” Loreli teased, Femira pointedly ignored her.

“You steady?” Jaz asked her once she was up in the saddle. She wobbled at first, but otherwise felt balanced. Years of walking along the rooftops of Altarea had given her an impeccable sense of balance. “Whoa, whoa,” escaped her as the horse took a few steps. Ok, maybe not impeccable.

“Just keep a tight rein on this one,” Jaz said, patting his neck, “he’ll follow the group, but he’ll veer to clumps of grass if you let him.”

“Don’t worry, Vreth,” Loreli said with a grin, “I’m sure Jaz will rescue you if you get stuck.” Femira sneered at her and had been about to give a smarmy retort but she noticed Misandrei approaching them and kept it to herself. Show that you can work as part of a team and all that.

“We’re heading to Southdock, there’s a ferry waiting to take us across the bay to Heraldport. From there we’ll head north along the eastern side of the Tidewall,” she informed them, “keep to the group and don’t fall behind. Endrin will be taking up the rear position today. Our mission is to patrol up along the coast of the Tidewall. The corsairs have been consistent in attacks specifically against Rubanian trading vessels.”

“Steel shipments?” Jaz asked.

“Precisely,” she confirmed, “and there’s a ship bound for Heraldport this week from Rubastre. We’ve spread false information that there’s a sizable shipment of weapons, ballistics and armour. The Altareans won’t be able to resist such an opportunity. The Rubanian guildmasters have sent a decoy vessel which we have instructed to stop at a checkpoint along the tidewall. There, we’ll be setting up our ambush.”

“How do we make sure the knowledge reaches the corsairs?” Jaz asked.

“Well there’s a spy right there,” Loreli nodded to Femira, “I’m sure she’s already leaked the information back. I can take her into custody now, Captain, if you want to ensure the rest of the mission is kept a secret.”

“That’s enough, Loreli,” Misandrei chastised, sternly looking Loreli down, “Annali is a bloodshedder now, I won’t have you questioning her loyalty, are we clear?'' It felt strange having someone defend her like that to which a Loreli shot her a petulantly antagonistic look. Femira gave the girl a thin smile, proud of herself for not rising to Loreli’s comments.

True to Jaz’s word, her horse kept to the group once they’d departed from the barracks. Occasionally he would try to shift off course, but she heeded Jaz’s advice and kept the reins tight.

“You have to let them know who’s in control,” Jaz said to her, “they’ll walk all over you otherwise.” It was early morning, but the streets of Epilas were already bustling with activity. Street vendors setting up for the day, some already hawking their wares. An armourer touted that his steel was the finest Rubane had to offer as they passed.

“You really should purchase some of your own gear soon,” Jaz recommended, “the barracks armoury is decent. But we’re bloodshedders now, decent doesn’t cut it.” Femira considered it, a few months ago she never would have thought of wasting such money on such things. But now that she was a bloodshedder, she would soon be getting her first salary and it wasn’t the pittance she’d been living on in Altarea. The look of shock had been mistaken for insult from the bloodshedder’s quartermaster when he’d informed her that her salary would be three silver marks per month and bonuses for special assignments. Three silver marks was more than she’d pull in a year working for Lichtin. The quartermaster however had thought that Annali Jahar who had been married to a Prince had been deeply offended by the meagre stipend and told her to take it up with her captain if she wanted it re-evaluated.

With that kind of money flowing in she could easily afford a new set of daggers and her own gear. First on her list though was new stealth gear, something that could help hide her body’s annoying new habit of glowing when she used her abilities. For someone who preferred to stay in the shadows, it made it pretty difficult to stay hidden.

A contingent of blackclad bloodshedders moving through the city didn’t go unnoticed. Barefoot children playing on the street paused to gawk, soldiers garbed in the colours of varying highborn houses saluted respectfully. It was the first time that Femira had worn her black bloodshedder uniform out in public. The part of her that was still Femira wanted to shrink away into the side alleys, but this new aspect growing inside of her was elated, commanding respect and honour. It was her adaption of Annali Jahar. Not the stubbornly naive and foolish girl from Annali’s journals, but the version of her that Femira had created and morphed into.

She was realising with more and more awareness that the girl she had been; the one that preferred to hide, to back down, was fading away. She still clung to Femira. Her name that she’d held for most of her life. She didn’t want to let her go. Vreth was who she had been becoming, Vreth wasn’t afraid, she was the part of her that thrilled at the challenge of sneaking undetected into a mansion. This new Annali was like her, only her thrill was in being a runewielder—or more specifically fighting as a runewielder. She enjoyed the challenge just as Vreth did, but the challenge was in fighting stronger and more skilled opponents. The feeling of her heart thrumming in beat to the earthstone beside it.

She could feel it even now. It resonated in tune with her heartbeat. And with each pulse it sent out from her, she could feel the cobbles of the road beneath her horse and the buildings lining the roads. She wasn’t sure if her edir could draw in stone from those buildings, not from that far away. But then again she hadn’t fully tested out her new range yet.

“Control your edir, Annali,” Misandrei said to her. She hadn’t noticed the woman had fallen back from the front of the procession.

“What?”

“Others can sense your edir, you’re sending yours out in waves, broadcasting it. Your edir control has always been erratic and it’s stronger now that you have you’ve been soulforged. It’s a lot more noticeable. If you do not master control of it, a skilled runewielder will be able to predict your next move.’’ Femira reddened, both from frustration and embarrassment. She was familiar with Misandrei’s direct tutelage but that didn’t mean she was comfortable with it.

“I don’t know how,” she admitted.

“You do,” Misandrei chastised her, “rein it in, the same way you rein in that horse—with a hard grip.”

“That doesn't make any sense, it's not as though I can touch it?”

“No?” She asked with a patronising expression of mock shock, “do you not touch it when you reach out your mind to the ground below you? The edir is part of you, Annali, it is your hand that clasps the rein. Remember that.” Misandrei urged her horse back to the front.

She could sense the pulses, emitting from her in waves, she tried to focus on internalising them, on make the vibrations reverberate inside of her own body and not outside of it. Her sense of awareness of the ground and buildings around became weaker, she was still aware of them but she knew she wouldn’t be able to disintegrate them like this. She was far more aware of what was going on inside of her, it was like when she focused only on the material in her earthstone at her heart. Picking apart the tiny fragments of what the stone and metals had once been and focusing her attention there.

“That’s better.” Misandrei called back to her, “keep practising.”

***

The docks at Epilas were miniscule compared to Altarea. The seawall shielded the city from the towering waves during the Uniontide and Lua Nova. Wavecallers manning the towers along the walls also worked to calm the waves so that they didn’t break over the wall and flood the city. This meant that the city didn’t have an expansive harbour. Southdock was a wharf that sat within the confines of the seawall with an enormous gate that prevented the waves from destroying it. It was also small and could only hold less than a few dozen vessels at a time, a those were primarily made up of the barge-like ships that ferried people and cargo to the considerably larger harbour in the town of Heraldport which was less than two miles away, and built onto the very tip of the peninsula known as the Tidewall. It was named so, because the peninsula was a long stretch of tall cliffs that sheltered the inner coastlines of Reldon from the brunt of the Altasjura’s notoriously dustructive tides.

“They say that ancient stonebreakers created it—before even the Sorcerer King’s,” Jaz told her, the two of them leaning on the bow of the ferry, looking at the thin landmass on the horizon. The scale of such a land mass being formed by a stonebreaker was such ludicrous idea that Femira scoffed at him.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“We don’t know what ancient runewielders were able to achieve. Look at the Pillar of Reldon, that’s pretty impressive.”

“There’s a difference between a making a big stone tower and raising up an entire stretch of land from the sea.” Femira had been raised on stories of ancient heroes and gods that had created the world, but stories were all they were. She had seen the legacy of past stonebreakers in Epilas’ architecture. The domes of Judgement Hall and the intricate structure and balconies of the Pillar and she had to admit that they were impressive, but they also weren’t impossible. With enough time and resources, she was confident she could build something just as impressive. But raising islands from the sea and pulling mountains out of the earth, those were just myths.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as one who believed in children’s stories,” she teased.

“Well when we’re on the cliffs, and you’re looking out at the uncontrolled wrath of the Altasjura, we’ll see who believes or not.”

“I lived in Altarea unless you’ve forgotten. They don’t have any tidewalls created by made-up ancestors. There’s just the cliffs and the sea.”

“But the stormguards, they protected the city from the worst of it, no?”

“They could hold off the winds, but ain’t no amount of stormstone is going to hold back the Altasjura.” Femira responded. Looking down at the roiling current of the ocean as their ferry was pulled along by the current, Femira could feel the tension knotting in her shoulders. She hated being on the water. Hazy memories of the ship that had brought her family to Altarea, being battered and thrown about by the enormous and terrifying waves. Even when her brothers had used to collect shellfish along the exposed coastline during lowtide, Femira couldn’t resist the intruding thoughts of the crashing waves barrelling back to sweep them away. It was an understatement that being on the ship made her uneasy but she masked it with a grin.

“Spar?” She asked Jaz, hoping to distract herself.

“Don’t fancy setting the ship on fire,” He said reluctantly and looked about the ship’s deck.

“Come on,” she pleaded, “you’ve got the advantage, there’s no stone for me to pull on anywhere.” It felt strange, when she sent out the pulses of her edir, to have them resonate off so little. The breeze around her and the current of the water below ebbed and shifted the pulses of edir as they passed through but she felt no resonance from them. There was nothing from the wooden structure of the ship itself, only the isolated vibrations of steel nearby. Her own daggers, Jaz’s sword and the iron fittings of the bow. There were dull sensations of metal further away inside the ship and on the deck where the other bloodshedders idly passed the time on the ship.

Jaz seemed to consider for a moment. He’d lost to her in every sparring session they’d had since they’d become soulforged. He wasn’t a particularly prideful man from what Femira had gathered, but after that many losses, it starts to hit at your morale. She looked over at Loreli who was in conversation with some other bloodshedders. Femira had yet to challenge her since becoming soulforged. She’s had three weeks to practice ahead of me. Femira wanted to make sure she was at the top of her game before facing the other girl again. She also didn’t want to face her with the disadvantage the ship presented to her abilities. She could tell Jaz was taking the bait but he might need a little more encouragement,

“No daggers?” She offered.

“Just fist and foot?”

“And runewielding,” she added matter-of-factly.

“Nah,” he replied quickly, “not worth it. Too risky on the ship.”

“Ok, how’s this,” she started, leaning in towards him, “you win and I’ll stay in your room tonight.”

“Oh really?” He smirked, turning and leaning against the rail, his back to the sea, “you know we can just skip all the fighting part and just find a nice quiet place in the hull?” he said. She didn’t really like Jaz in that way but she couldn’t deny he was handsome. She’d also not had sex in months. Not since leaving before she’d left Altarea.

“Only if you win,” she said.

“You’ve got a deal,” he pushed himself forward, stepping into the middle of the deck. It wasn’t a military vessel, it was designed for carrying people and cargo across the bay. However the army had a contract with ferrymasters to bring soldiers back and forth from Heraldport to the Epilas garrisons as a priority over any trading cargo. The hull was full of goods, but the deck was often reserved for passengers. On standard passage over the bay they would have upwards of a hundred passengers on a barge like this but due to the bloodshedders’ request, only the contingent for the mission were on board, in addition to the ship’s crew. This meant that big areas of the deck were left unoccupied, allowing plenty of space for small groups of bloodshedders to spar. The bloodshedders were constantly training, always honing their abilities at any opportunity.

Jaz walked into the middle of the deck and shifted into a combat position, fists raised. Femira smiled.

“First touch?” He asked.

“First takedown,” she countered.

“You’ll be on your back before you know it,” he winked at her and in response she conjured up four glassblades, blunted edges but would still cut if they struck skin.

“Hey, you said no weapons!”

“I said I wouldn’t use my daggers, the glassblades are part of my runewielding ability.” He began to draw his sword in response, “you know I’m just going to turn that to dust right?” He grimaced and slid it back into the scabbard, “you’ve played me.”

“Not my fault you’re bad at the game.”

***

After three rounds, Jaz was smashed once again onto his back from a kick from Femira. He rose, spluttering and wheezing, “alright, I’m done.”

“You don’t want to try again?” She asked, innocently cocking her head to her side, “I could soothe out all those bruises for you…” she offered, “but you’ll still have to get at least one win.”

“I can’t watch that pathetic display again,” Endrin called over to them. Femira hadn’t even noticed he’d been watching. She felt anger rise in her, Who the fuck the fuck does he think he is?

“Jaz is far better fighter than you—” she started angrily.

“No he isn’t,” he cut her off, “but I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You had weapons and he didn’t. Jaz is also holding back so that he doesn’t burn down the ship. You have a clear advantage so of course you would win. But that isn’t the problem, your technique is painful to watch,” he said scornfully, “it’s an embarrassment. I can’t fathom why the General thought it would be a good idea to promote you.”

“Captain Misandrei trained me herself,” Femira spat at him.

“And it shows,” he replied, “she’s a stormstone specialist. She is supposed to fight the way she does. You’re a stonebreaker; finesse and quick movements aren’t your strengths yet you rely on them as the cornerstone of your fighting style.”

“Oh yeah? If you’re so confident then why don’t you face me?”

Endrin stepped towards her, she noticed now that the other bloodshedders were watching. Fine, she liked to have an audience when she beat someone down. The memory of Endrin turning her dagger to dust was a thorn in her mind. He’d made her question her place among the bloodshedders and her resolve had been thoroughly shaken for weeks. She wanted to beat him, needed to beat him. He couldn’t surprise her, not now that she knew about soulforging and the boost to runewielding it gave. Not now that they were on equal footing.

She resummoned her glass blades. Orbiting two about her as murder moons and kept the other pair focused as potential projectiles. His face was impassive, she could feel his edir, similar to her own, sending out waves. She could feel it, passing over glass blades. He attempted to pull one from her control but her edir held firmly onto it. In response, she shot one of them forward which shattered on impact as it collided against his face. He didn’t even flinch?! Endrin remained impassive as stone, his face glowing with amber light. There wasn’t a cut or any mark at all from where the glass blade had struck him. His use of stoneskin wasn’t surprising, but her glassblades should have at least made a shallow cut. She didn’t allow her surprise to show on her face. He calmly walked towards her, stepping into the orbit of the murder moons which also shattered on impact as he passed into their threshold. She swung at him and he didn’t even blink as her fist crumpled against his face.

“Ah,” she gasped, pulling her hand back to her chest in pain.

“We don’t need finesse,” he said to her, “we are guardians. We are shields for our companions. You will never be fast enough to fight like them, but you don’t need to, do you understand?”

“Stoneskin won’t protect you from a sword or an arrow,” Femira growled at him.

“You’re right but stoneskin doesn’t have to be your last defence, either. Incorporate it into your combat and you’re unstoppable.” He turned his heel and walked away.

“We’re not done,” she called after him.

“Yes,” he replied, not turning back, “we are.”