Honor-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book III ]

2

Uachi had always hated the Holy City.

He had spent the dark years of his childhood in Karelin, and they had shaped his understanding of the world and his place in it. That experience had driven his yearning to carve out a path of his own, a path not dependent on the cursed blood for which his younger brother, Uaran, had been slain.

He'd done that. Although he never used magic, Uachi had become one of the most respected men in the Blood-Bound Sovereigns' court. He controlled his own life, more or less, and he had very little to fear.

Still, for a very long time, Karelin had held nothing for him but memories of a time when he had been young, and helpless, and frightened.

Then, he had met Ealin, and everything had changed. Love had softened the sharp corners of Uachi's heart. Love had brought him things he had never thought to hope for: peace, restful dreams, and something very close to happiness.

Since the Arcborn Rebellion, Matei and Mhera's reign had steadied, if not completely stabilized. Uachi had stood by them faithfully since then. Captain Alban had retired, and Uachi had ascended to his post. With the help of the sovereigns and the mounting respect of Starborn and Arcborn soldiers alike, Uachi had pieced together a true standing Penruan Army—a costly but critical effort that had strained the palace coffers and his own sanity. In the early years of Matei and Mhera's reign, the mounting threat of aggression from the southern continent of Narr had meant that a reliable force of fighting men unbeholden to small lords and little country towns might well have spelled the difference between Penruan sovereignty and ruin.

Now, as the so-called High Queen of Narr insisted upon granting refuge to the renegade prince, Koren, heightening tensions promised all-out war. Koren had made no secret of his hatred of the Arcborn and his contempt for a brother who'd been dead and had come back to life as something far worse: A traitor, a rebel. Koren could make a valid bid for the throne of Penrua, and there were many in the realm who prayed for the day he would do so.

Although he was still called Captain, Uachi's role had expanded along with the threat of war. Having selected leaders from among the strongest fighting men and women in the realm, he maintained nominal control of the Northern Regiments, which included the Imperial Guard in the Holy City. Unrest was a constant nuisance in the southern reaches of Penrua, though, and Uachi was called frequently to the front.

Nevertheless, he took every opportunity to return to a city that had lost its dark power over him—even when, given his abhorrence of traveling by the blood, the trip took him weeks. Indeed, travel by the blood for his soldiers was rare. The distances were vast, and the blood-magic required to cross them was nearly impossible to muster regularly.

Uachi never lamented the journey, no matter how hard it was on his body and on his mind. With the warmth of Ealin's kiss still lingering in his mind, he looked out the window at the shadowed expanse of the Imperial Gardens and felt, strangely, like had found his home at last.

Turning to regard the humble bedchamber Captain Alban had left to him when he retired from his post, Uachi saw the neatly-made bed Ealin had left. It made him smile, thinking of the woman he loved. Although she'd been gone for half an hour or so, the clean scent of her soap lingered in the room.

Uachi rooted around for his tunic and tugged it on over his head. He would go for the walk Ealin had suggested. It would clear his mind, and by the time she returned to their bedchamber from her work in the kitchens, he would be ready to comfort her. The disturbing reports from the south doubtless weighed on her mind.

Uachi put on his boots. He forewent the bow and quiver hanging near the door. He had his daggers, and the patrols around the Imperial Palace ran as smoothly as a river ran its course.

The night was still and quiet, and the Imperial Gardens were a world unto themselves. No sooner had Uachi closed the gate of the small courtyard that backed up onto the guardhouse than Farra's inquisitive growl greeted him from the shadows.

"Shouldn't you be with your mistress?" Uachi asked.

Ever since Uarria had been born, Farra might as well have been adopted by the little girl. She followed Uarria and her nurse everywhere, and she usually slept on a rug in the princess's room. But Uachi had been away from the city for a long time, and the shadowcat's loyalty still ran truer to him. Farra meowed and butted her head against his hand.

He laughed, stroking the cat's massive head and then scratching her behind the ear. "I missed you too, girl. Come along."

A while later, Uachi turned down the path that would take him to the Imperial Tombs, which stood in the center of the sprawling gardens. The white-walled structure was the resting place of sovereigns past, many of whose bones Uachi might eagerly have dumped into the Tyrrian Sea for all the respect he owed them.

Also within, though, if Mhera's intuition could be believed, lay the bones of Uachi's brother, Uaran.

He did not come here often. Now, alone and pensive, he wanted to pay his respects before departing again to the south.

Uachi had just reached the tombs when he heard booted footsteps running up the path through the center of the gardens. It was the shortest path from the palace to Uachi's own lodgings in the Guard's House situated opposite. His hand fell to his dagger at once, and he turned, listening for sounds of distress.

It was Arris, a guard in silver livery, and he was wild-eyed. He did not seem to notice Uachi standing there in the shadow of the vault until he called: "Arris! Hold!"

The boy—for he could not have seen more than seventeen summers—skidded to a halt with a look of such comic surprise that Uachi might have laughed, had he not known beyond a doubt that Arris's haste meant trouble.

"Make your report," he commanded.

"Captain Uachi!" The surprise evident in Arris's face was replaced instantly with relief...and then with fear. "Princess Uarria is missing. His Grace commands that we alert the patrols—I was on my way to—"

"What?" Uachi demanded, not certain he had heard the boy right.

"Princess Uarria is missing from her room. There are signs of violence and—"

"Go and speak with Danya. You'll find her at the eastern watchtower. She will arrange the patrols—I will go to His Grace—"

Uachi was already running.