part0064

I nside the House of Steel, Ruger stood on the king’s terrace. His gaze hung on the shining waters of the Bay of Elders. Warships patrolled the choppy waters over a mile away from land. The boats, docks, and beaches were a hive of activity. Supplies were loaded onto ships by men and women that appeared as tiny as ants.

Ruger breathed the salty air in deep. It smelled like home. He could taste it though he knew it was temporary.

Prince Lewis and Pratt were the only other men on the terrace. They were both sitting at the table on the raised patio by the doors leading back inside the castle. They were drinking wine and eating from plates of food that had been brought forth.

With a leg of turkey in one hand, Lewis walked over to Ruger and offered it to him. “You must be hungry. That was an impressive feat you pulled off against the Gond. Care to share your strategy?”

“Simple. Cut off the head of the snake, and the body goes crazy.” Ruger wasn’t hungry, but he took the turkey leg anyway, not wanting to insult the prince. “Thank you.” He picked off a hunk of meat with his blood-stained hands and ate. “It’s good.”

“You always did have a knack for getting things done quickly. Cut off the head of the snake. Hmm. I like it.” Lewis drank from his goblet and set the cup down on the terrace wall. Looking down at the boats below, he said, “I hate sailing. I’d rather do anything else.” His handsome face soured. “It leaves me queasy. And my footing is uncertain. Is that how you feel, Ruger? Or is it Abraham?”

“No, it’s Ruger, and I’m not sure that I understand the question.”

Lewis tilted his head from side to side and said, “Moving from one body to another. Never knowing what world you are going to wake up in. Isn’t that like loose sand underneath your feet?”

“I suppose it is.” He took a big bite of turkey leg and chewed.

Lewis leaned against the wall, rubbed his eyes, and yawned. “Riding all night isn’t as easy as it used to be. Especially when bullets ripped your backside out.” He fixed his stare on Ruger. “Tell me, isn’t what you are going through… maddening? Frankly, I think I would go mad.”

Ruger lifted his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what Lewis was angling at, but he answered honestly. “I focused on one thing.”

“And what’s that? Wait, don’t answer.” Lewis snapped his fingers and pointed at Ruger. “Getting home.”

“That’s part of it. But I always focus on what I have always focused on. Serving the king.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “How can you serve a king when you exist on another world?”

“By doing whatever I can to get back.”

Lewis quickly shook his head and said, “I envy you, Ruger. Perhaps I always have. I’m the king’s own flesh and blood, but you’ve been a better son to him than me. But my perspective has changed.”

“How so?” Ruger asked.

“When I discovered that you had a flaw, I delighted in it. Now that the king knows that you are the father of Clarice and that Clarann is your mistress, I don’t feel as… hmm, how shall I put this?” The prince grinned. “Unfavored anymore.”

“I didn’t know,” Ruger said. “I never did.”

“True.” Lewis took up his goblet and drank. “But we both know that won’t matter to my father. Will it? And speaking of change, well, the king has changed too. I’d be worried about that.” He threw the goblet over the wall. “Very worried.”

Ruger picked more meat off the bone and flicked it to the sea birds hovering nearby on the wind. The ones that missed the meal dove after it. He picked the bone clean and flicked it over the wall.

Lewis and Pratt remained seated at the table, talking quietly from time to time. At least two hours had passed with no sign of the king.

That gave Ruger time to think. He needed to figure out the next step. First off, he needed to locate the lair of the Time Tunnel on Titanuus. He knew it was in the Spine, but the Spine was very dark and unexplored territory. His best chance would be to track the enemy’s armies back to the location. He couldn’t do that if he was in Titanuus. He had no idea what King Hector would task him to do either. The king might kill him.

Ruger wiped the grease off his fingers on his blood-soaked leggings.

The curtains parted behind the patio table. A beautiful woman stepped through, dressed in the armor of the Guardian Maidens. Prince Lewis and Pratt stood.

“Leah!” Lewis said with a broad white smile on his face. “Forgive me for not wrapping you up in my arms, love, but as you can see”—he fanned out his battle-marred cape—“I’m all bloody.”

“It suits you well, Prince.” Leah gave Lewis a peck on the cheek. She shifted her attention to Pratt. “Good to see that you are alive and breathing.”

“Another day. Another battle to come,” Pratt replied grimly.

Leah’s golden-brown braid hung down her back. She was as fit as she was pretty. She turned her attention toward Ruger and said to Lewis in a quieter voice, “The king comes.”

Lewis opened his hands and said, “That’s what I’ve been waiting for.” He patted her on the lower back. “But not as much as you, of course.”

“Of course,” she said. “Is that… him?”

“Yes,” Lewis replied. “Ruger in the flesh. For now, anyway. There is no telling when the next possession might take over.”

Leah marched toward Ruger and stopped right in front of him. “It’s been a long time. We haven’t spoken since before your fall from grace. Do you remember me?”

“Of course. I remember everyone that I trained,” Ruger replied. He noticed the lioness insignia on the strap of her breastplate. “You’ve come a very long way. The commander of the Guardian Maidens. Perhaps I did something right.”

“Don’t be modest, Ruger,” Lewis said with his thumbs hitched in his belt. “You trained all of us, and look, we are still alive.”

Leah patted Ruger on a shoulder and said, “I just wanted to say that it’s good to see you again. I hope to fight by your side one day.”

“I wouldn’t hope too much. It might happen sooner than you think.”

“Well, that is what you trained us for.”

Lewis cleared his throat. “Ahem.”

Leodor and Melris walked out onto the patio. The older and wizened-looking Leodor wore the customary robes of the viceroy. He maintained the same froward, tired-eyed, and chinless expression.

Melris the Elderling wore the same purple robes and carried the cast-iron Rod of Devastation cradled in his arms. His hood was down, and he maintained his short tawny hair and youthful face. The irises of his eyes were light purple.

The newcomers made a beeline for Ruger.

“Who is with us today?” Leodor asked brightly.

“Ruger,” he replied.

Leodor tilted his head side to side and gave him further study. His eyes landed on the hilt of Ruger’s sword. “I need to retain your weapons. All of them.”

Ruger unbuckled his sword and dagger belt. He tried to hand them to Leodor.

“Elders, no. I’m not touching those things.” Leodor lifted a fragile hand and snapped his fingers with a loud pop. “Pratt. Make yourself useful.”

Pratt hustled over, his armor jangling. He took the sword belt from Ruger and moved away.

“That’s better,” Leodor said as he hid his hand back inside his sleeves. “I’m going to need you to cross your hands behind your back.”

Ruger gave Leodor a doubting look but complied. He caught a hint of surprise on Lewis’s and Leah’s faces.

“Please understand that King Hector can’t take any chances these days,” Leodor continued. “As you have seen, there are many persons of interest trying to kill him.”

Unable to contain the edge in his voice, Ruger replied, “I wear the King’s Brand, for Elder’s sake. I’d never lift my hand against the king.”

“Times change. And we can’t take any chances that you aren’t you.” Leodor nodded at Melris. “Secure him.”

Melris’s hands glowed like purple sunshine. A coil of ropelike energy bands formed inside the palm of one hand. He stepped behind Ruger and bound his hands.

The mystic coils constricted and burned hot without searing the flesh.

“Do not strain against your bindings,” Melris said softly. “The more you struggle, the more they will hurt.” He moved back beside Leodor.

Leodor nodded at Ruger and said, “Now, get on your knees and bow for the coming king.”