“Harbinger’s End: Herald” Free Preview (chapter twenty-eight)

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Ravelin

Part 1

Jarren Entigen slept peacefully, dimly aware of the hand gently shaking her shoulder. Clinging stubbornly to her slumber, she moaned her objections as a familiar voice attempted to rouse her.

“It’s time to wake up.”

“Mmmm...”

“You’re going to miss breakfast.”

“What time is it...?”

“Almost 6:30.”

Opening one eye, she strained to look over her shoulder at a grinning face. Behind the mischievous expression, she saw the tenderness in his eyes and felt his devotion to her. A scar cut across the side of his face, the residue of a killer’s knife. Tracing the line with her finger, she murmured, “You go. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Duncan Milius stood up and shook his head. “Nope. Cyril will be there and he’ll start his inspection right after.” He slipped his pants on and grabbed a pair of socks. “You know how these things go. The chief-of-staff to the commander of the Federate militia can’t be late.”

“I’ll call in sick and send my assistant.”

“You don’t have an assistant.”

“Grr. It’s too early. Tell him that if he doesn’t give me my beauty rest, you’ll demote him to refuse duty after you make Grand-General.”

Duncan chuckled. “That’s a good one. I’ll pass it on.” He pulled his shirt on.

Turning onto her back, Jarren folded her hands behind her head and regarded him impishly. “You look better without all that on, you know.”

He shook his head and smiled.

“Honestly,” she continued. “I’d be happy to help, if you want.”

She pawed at him with her foot. Grabbing her by the ankle, he started to massage her.

She moaned happily and stared up at the ceiling. Although they were in a military building, the personal quarters of the garrison commander felt surprisingly warm. A mix of wood and stone, it doubled as Duncan’s living space and office. Large regional maps hung on the walls, and the round table where he met in strategy sessions with his senior officers was cluttered with pieces representing military units that looked like they were borrowed from a board game. Apart from this, everything else in the room was clean and organized. Although he had been the commander here for three months, he had only lately begun to add personal touches to his quarters.

Enjoying her foot massage, Jarren purred, “This is nice, Romi.”

She knew he found her hard to resist when she used his Teivan nickname. Pleasantly, he replied, “Is it? What about this?” Taking hold of both feet in his hands, he started pulling.

Jarren yelped. “Don’t you dare!”

Duncan chuckled and released her. Walking around the bed, he bent down and kissed her. “Breakfast is in ten minutes.”

“Ten?! Make it twenty.”

“Fifteen. See you soon.”

Grabbing the jacket to his uniform, he headed out. With a groan, she pulled the bedding over her head and curled into a ball.

*

When Jarren arrived for breakfast, Duncan was still greeting his troops. She watched from the back of the mess hall as he made his rounds of the platoons. The camaraderie was genuine, and she noted that he made sure to greet everyone regardless of rank or position. As she noted their warm responses to him, she felt intense pride for her lover. By the time Jarren had her tray of food and joined Duncan at the officers’ table, he was already deeply in conversation with General Cyril Hawkwin. At her approach, the burly commander of the Federate armies rose.

“Welcome to breakfast. I’m surprised you made it.”

Jarren smirked and sat down. Eying Duncan, she replied, “I have a good alarm system.”

“No doubt.”

The general returned to his seat. Digging into her meal, Jarren glanced at Duncan. “So, do you know all their names yet?”

“Not quite, but I’m working on it.”

Hawkwin grinned. “Duncan and I were just talking about how he’s settled into his new job. ‘Marshal Milius’ — it has a nice ring.”

Duncan snuck a sip of his drink. “The paperwork’s a killer.”

One of Duncan’s captains who was sitting nearby chuckled at this. Duncan exchanged glances with him as his mood darkened. “But starting tomorrow, I’ll be getting a break from it.”

The others at the table nodded solemnly as they finished their meals. Jarren shuddered inwardly. She was used to having him leave for risky missions, but this was the first time she was present for his departure. On top of this was her anxiety over the nature of this particular assignment: his return to Ravelin, the place where Marshall Corinn Wallace had led his own battalion to a stunning defeat — a first for the Praetorship, and a battle from which Duncan had barely escaped alive. Jarren knew that the other survivors of Ravelin were here in this very mess hall preparing for their own return. She wondered what they were thinking. Were they looking for vengeance? Justice? Or did they want to ensure that their comrades hadn’t died in vain?

The fully reconstituted Eighteenth Battalion had spent the last three months training for this mission, and Duncan had been the architect. After today’s inspection from General Hawkwin, they would set out. Jarren expected to feel overwhelmed with anxiety this morning. Yet, as she reflected on the reactions of the troops when Duncan greeted them, she saw only admiration and respect, and the marshal’s own confidence was palpable. They trusted him completely, and so did she.

Duncan finished his plate and stretched. He glanced over to her and caught her expression.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

Jarren shrugged. “Nothing.”

Smiling grimly, she returned to her half-eaten breakfast.

Stay tuned for the next chapter…

Buy Harbinger’s End: Herald in print or ebook for maps, extra material and a preview of Harbinger’s End: The Time of Meeting.

www.halcyonchronicles.com

“Harbinger’s End: Herald” Free Preview (chapter twenty-seven)

Buy the full book at www.halcyonchronicles.com

Flight

Part 2

The capital of the Dominion of Khadash was located in the center of a river basin that formed the country’s economic hub. The national legislature was the city’s focal point. Unlike the government facilities in the other countries, Irbirah’s legislature boasted a simple yet elegant design. The complex looked like a large, decorated stone block with evenly spaced oblong windows marking the offices of the parliamentarians. At the center of the complex, under a sharply peaked roof, was the legislative assembly.

The premier’s office was located in the middle of a long corridor that led to the offices of his cabinet ministers. They comprised the top floor of the three-story administrative wing.

Warm browns and greens colored the office of Premier Glendon Fortinbras. The floor was softly carpeted, the furniture antique. Behind the desk sat a dark, heavyset man wearing a thick, red velvet overcoat and brown leather pants. As he rifled through some paperwork, he ran his fingers over a head that once sported a mop of curly black hair. Although he’d been bald for twenty years, it was a habit he’d been unable to break. The faded blue light of false dawn penetrated the curtain covering the window. The room was brightly lit by the glow from four lanterns.

The air across from Fortinbras became distorted, and when he looked up, he found the Circle Chieftain standing before him. Fortinbras was unfazed by the sudden visit. Getting back to his work, he pointed at a chair.

“Have a seat, Cain, I’ll be right with you.” The voice was a rumbling basso that seemed to fill the room even when used quietly.

The Chieftain pulled his crimson robes around him and sat in the indicated chair. “It’s still the last day of the Epiphany. Shouldn’t you be at home with Shani and Dannia?”

“I had some work to catch up on before the legislature resumes tomorrow. This bill has to be passed by the middle of next week.” Sighing, he put down what he was doing. He smiled at his guest. “This could take a while. Why don’t you tell me what you need.”

Cain smiled back. “You look tired.”

Fortinbras chuckled. “It’s not easy running a country. You should try it.”

“No thanks, I have my own problems.”

“I’m sure. Have you met with the Membership yet?”

“We adjourned three hours ago. I’ve spent the last little while tracking you down.”

Fortinbras put an elbow on the desk and rested his chin in his hand. “Are you initiating the Greater Cause?”

Cain nodded. “We’ll be getting ready for phase two soon.”

The premier of Khadash exhaled deeply. He sat back, folding his arms over his generous belly. “So you’re taking this, ah… event… at Assize seriously?”

A glance at the Chieftain gave him his answer.

“What do you need me to do?” asked Fortinbras nervously.

“We need to make preparations. Start importing as much dry foodstuffs as you can. Direct the farming communities in Khadash’s heartland to send their surpluses to the three coastal towns. When the warehouses fill up, we’ll start shipping everything to the Khorshim.”

Fortinbras fought down his fear. “Are we in full evacuation mode?”

“Not yet. I want the supplies to be in place ahead of the people.”

“That’s sensible.” A thought occurred to the premier. “How can we be sure the Khorshim will be safe?”

Cain sat back in his chair wearily. “You remember when the Explorer set out from Rugen?”

“Of course, that was almost six months ago. What of it?”

“Right before they put to sea — during the ceremony on the pier, actually — I had Quinn steal into the ship and replace the navigation charts with maps that omitted the Fingers of Khorshim.”

Fortinbras was skeptical. “And you think that will stop the Enemy from finding us there?”

The Chieftain shook his head. “Nothing is certain, but if our maps don’t include the Khorshim, it stands to reason that the Dark Champion will assume we don’t know about them.”

“That’s a very tenuous assumption.”

“It’s better than nothing. What choice do we have? We’re in no shape to resist the Enemy directly. Not without the Savior.”

The premier drew another long breath. “Fine. I’ll dissolve Parliament and send the politicians back to their constituents to organize everything. What of the surpluses from the border communities?”

“Tell them to gather their supplies, but don’t send them south just yet. If my guess is right, we’ll need to restock Valor’s Keep. I’m not prepared to abandon the rest of Halcyon entirely.”

Fortinbras nodded in agreement. “Nor am I.” A thought occurred to him. “We’re going to need other supplies than just food. Tar, coal, metal. Things we can’t produce ourselves.” His expression darkened. “I think I’ll have to visit the Hansic Alliance.”

“It won’t be that bad.” Cain looked up. “Why don’t you take Dannia with you? I’m sure she’d enjoy the trip.”

The premier considered this. “Enjoy it — no. The outside world is no place for us, never has been. She knows that, but it will do her some good to experience another culture, even one that rejects us. She’s turning nineteen, can you believe it?”

The Chieftain chuckled and shook his head. He made a motion in the air with his hands. “I remember when she was this big.”

Fortinbras smiled at the fond memory. “You know, she always liked you.”

“Take her with you,” pressed Cain. “Governor William Lessander of the Great Sea District is still unattached. Quinn tells me he’s quite dashing.”

The premier laughed. “Quinn’s about as cold as they come! Besides, aren’t you worried about tainting our bloodlines?”

Cain rose to leave. “A little shakeup now and then couldn’t hurt.”

“I’d rather she stuck to her own kind.”

The Chieftain shrugged.

Fortinbras folded his hands together on his desk and gazed up at Cain shrewdly. “There wouldn’t be any ulterior motive in your push to have my daughter join me, would there?”

Looking back, Cain smiled weakly. “And that would be...?”

“Well, let’s see. She’s a recent inductee to the Circle, has been waiting for her first assignment as an agent...”

“No,” answered Cain quickly, “that wasn’t my first thought, though it wouldn’t hurt to have someone with you who can communicate with us instantly.”

“Not your first thought?”

The Chieftain sighed. “Fine, maybe it was. But if something happens on your journey, something that requires our attention, we can respond immediately if she’s there.”

“Right.” Fortinbras got up and walked past his desk to see the Chieftain off. Dannia’s safety wasn’t what bothered him — he knew his daughter was safe in the Circle’s care. His mood became somber again. “Tell me the truth, my friend. Will we survive?”

“Your trip to the Hanse, or the Time of Meeting?”

“You know what I mean.”

Cain looked directly into Fortinbras’ eyes. The premier saw the worry and uncertainty. After a moment of silence, the Chieftain answered.

“I don’t know.”

Fortinbras returned to his desk. By the time he sat back down, Cain was gone.

*          *          *

The Library of the Elders was dark and still, just as it always was. The endless rows of bookshelves looked like they hadn’t been disturbed in centuries. No one knew how far back the enormous hall extended, but each set of shelves was tall enough to touch the ceiling, which was always hidden from view.

A ball of radiance appeared at the front of the sanctum, illuminating a large desk. A body materialized before it. Appearing at first as a hazy form, it gradually coalesced and came into focus. Satisfied that his transportation was successful, Cain spun around with great purpose and marched along the center aisle, passing row after row of books. The ball followed him overhead, lighting up each row in turn and returning it to the darkness when it passed.

After a while, Cain found what he was looking for. He stopped and turned to make his way along a shelf. Almost as an afterthought, his body left the ground. The radiance followed him until he could see the faint outline of the ceiling. He selected a book and floated back to the main aisle.

He looked back toward the desk, but hesitated. Instead, he gazed longingly ahead into the darkness. He had done this a thousand times, and he would do it a thousand more. There had to be a way in! The Elders wouldn’t have left all those books in plain sight if there wasn’t a way in!

He forgot that he was still a few meters in the air. He moved forward, bracing himself for the impact. A surge of energy engulfed him and threw him violently backwards. He plummeted to the floor and landed heavily. The light winked out.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! He tried to sit up but couldn’t move his legs. Suppressing the pain, he concentrated on his back, and his skin peeled away in his mind’s eye. He saw his spine and his nervous system. He saw the shattered vertebrae and the severed nerve connections. Carefully, he pushed the bones together and sealed the fractures. He repaired the damaged cells and restarted them. Slowly, he moved his legs and stood up. The healing process lasted a split second.

You’ll be no good to the Savior of Order if you kill yourself here, he reprimanded himself. With a sizzle, the light returned and he recovered the book. He hurried back to the desk to study it.

Stay tuned for the next chapter…

Buy Harbinger’s End: Herald in print or ebook for maps, extra material and a preview of Harbinger’s End: The Time of Meeting.

www.halcyonchronicles.com