Page 44 of Return of the Darkness
“Stay with her,” Caellum commanded the soldiers. Only Sir Cain travelled with him, grabbing his sword from the ground and rushing through the streets.
Neither the king nor his commander were quiet as they sprinted down the cobbles, illuminated occasionally by the movement of drapes within homes as citizens searched for the noise. The shouting grew louder, and Caellum recognized a voice he knew. Lord Ryon.
“See what has befallen your city under the care of the usurper!” he shouted as Caellum turned from the last street into the square. The sky was lightening to a deep blue, making the square more visible. One by one, drapes twitched, illuminating the fountain in the centre where Lord Ryon stood atop the stone, surrounded by his guards, who raised their swords at the shadowed solders now circling them. Caellum counted ten.
“He has allowed darkness into our city; he has put your lives at risk!” Lord Ryon shouted. A soldier thrust his sword at a shadow, yet it merely shifted out of the way, shaking as if laughing. Far too many lights from buildings now brightened the square; it provedtoo much for the shadows to dampen. Lord Ryon angled his head up at the window to his right. “Come, come! Bear witness to your king’s failures.” The shadows’ heads turned, following the lord’s eyeline to where a woman peered from the window. Caellum swore internally. The fool was drawing attention to innocent people. One shadow shifted, powering towards the front door of the woman’s house before drifting through it. Other shadows followed suit. Ryon appeared unconcerned at the implications of his words. The front door opened as a shadow dragged out a screaming woman by her hair.
“Your king allows your people to be tainted by darkness and have their lives threatened!” Lord Ryon shouted. Another two women cried out as two other shadows dragged them out of the same home. More and more light filled the square as people peered out, terrified and intrigued. Caellum’s blood boiled as the shadowed hands roamed the women’s bodies—no part of them was safe from the darkness.
“Your king allows your women to be assaulted, to be killed!”
“Enough!” Caellum roared, dragging his sword along the cobbles as he strode into the square, head high. Even the shadows paused at his authority. Caellum glanced at the women and shadows. Lord Ryon was mistaken; Caellum cared for his people. He had grown up in this city and sought comfort in its residents when his parents offered him none. While he knew little about those who supported his crown and those wishing to see him gone, it did not erase the fact heknewGarridon’s people. The king knew the three women before him were sisters, whose parents died of a winter illness four years ago. They were the only residents in that house, and that was all Caellum needed to know as he nodded to Sir Cain approaching from the street beside it. A warning to be ready.
“Enough!” Caellum knelt on the ground and slammed his fists into the city’s stone floor, a reminder he would protect this realm. Caellum repeated the motion and a jolt rippled through the street, strong enough for the shadows to stumble and release their holdof the women who ran to Sir Cain. The shadows turned towards the king and formed a line together, the perfect position for what Caellum hoped he could manage it. While the other heirs were blessed with elemental gifts from the gods, the Balfours had always possessed strength. One day, he would perhaps know where it came from. For the first time in his life, that power truly called to him, knowing the risk to his realm. A deep need to protect thrummed in his veins as he slammed his fists into the ground again, sending a sharp crack towards the building behind the shadows, to the now empty home the women were taken from. The shadows were prepared for the responding tremor and stepped toward him.
What they were not prepared for though, was that Caellum had willed that strength and power to send the crack toward the empty home. The shadows were none the wiser as the building shifted in its foundations and began to fall. Only one shadow turned back at the noise, the others were intent on reaching the king. The single shadow shifted to one side towards Lord Ryon, just as the stone building fell on the remaining nine shadows. The sky was brighter now, with the deep blue giving way to a glow rising beyond the city. In that glow, darkness seeped from beneath the building and did not reform. Caellum winced at the pain Elisara might feel as those nine bodies returned to her and the sword.
“Your king cares not for your lords!” Lord Ryon’s voice trembled as Caellum faced the fountain again. Ryon’s men had disbanded, leaving him in the clutches of a shadowed soldier. They were about as loyal as their lord, it seemed. Black shadowed hands held the lord's head, and a small blade of darkness was poised at his throat. “Your king does not—” Gurgling disrupted his words when the soldier dragged its blade across the lord's neck. A moment later, an arrow pierced through the shadow’s skull as soldiers from the northern side filtered into the square. As Lord Ryon’s body fell with a thud, Caellum felt a fleeting sense of sadness, despite his foul words. He had lost a member of Garridon, evenone who would have been thrown into prison for his treacherous words. The buildings were soon bathed in pink as the sun rose and doors opened, welcoming the soldiers who filtered in to check the safety of the citizens, who were safe because of him. Their king.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sadira
“Good morning,” Sadira whispered into Caellum’s ear as he set her down. He said nothing as he held her cold cheeks in his palms and kissed her lips. When he finally pulled back, Sadira took a deep breath, like he had stolen all the air from her lungs. “I’m okay,” she murmured. Caellum scanned her eyes and undoubtedly saw the pain within them.
“You are certain?” he asked, brushing a hand through her hair. Sadira nodded.
“There is much for us to discuss, but I am okay.” Sadira reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly, taking a moment for themselves amongst the chaos. Soldiers aided Garridon’s citizens while others cleared the rubble of the building Caellum had collapsed. Sunlight now streamed into the city square, highlighting the impact of the king’s actions. Sadira could not be prouder; in her eyes, Caellum was a beacon of strength and resilience for Garridon and their people.
“Marry me,” Caellum murmured, stroking the engagement ring on her finger. Sadira laughed, and the delicate sound danced in the surrounding air. “Marry me,” he said again, more seriously now.
“We’re already betrothed.”
“Tomorrow,” Caellum murmured, and Sadira laughed.
“I cannot arrange an entire wedding and have everyone here by tomorrow.”
“We need no one else.” Sadira stopped laughing at the sincerity in his tone. “We only need you and I, a witness and an officiant. Sir Cain would do it in a heartbeat.”
“You’re serious.” Sadira’s smile brightened her eyes as Caellum nodded.
“I do not want to wait. There is too much at stake, too many occasions where we could lose one another, and the realm could lose a ruler. I need only you, Sadira.” Caellum kissed her gently again.
“I need to visit Albyn first. Before I left the apothecary, Athena told me to reconnect with the Wiccan we met last time to find more answers about the sword and perhaps the pins.”
Caellum nodded eagerly. “We will go now. We will head to Albyn to meet with the Wiccan and marry at sunrise tomorrow morning.”
“In a field of flowers?” Sadira whispered. Caellum grinned and leant in.
“I will marry you in a field of irises,” he murmured against her lips. “Together, we’ll experience a hundred new beginnings.”
***
Albyn’s flower fields called to Sadira as she dismounted her horse, ready to enter the town with her king’s arm looped through hers. In the morning, she would become a wife—a queen. Sadira would promise herself to the man she never anticipated to love, the man she was told she would marry all those years ago. The endless flowers waved to her as they swayed in the light breeze. The coastal settlement, Albyn, felt like the perfect place to wed Caellum; not only was it steeped in nature she adored, but it was closest to the land where she was raised. If Sadira strode through the rows of homes and shops to the other end, she could stand at the cliff’s edge and gaze out over the sea to Doltas Island in the distance.
Although Sadira was not yet queen, she still had matters to attend to in Albyn to protect her people. Only after could she enjoy a moment with her future husband. After a restless night inthe apothecary, her mind had been a constant string of thoughts, especially when Caellum ran into danger. Questions had raced through her head. Why were Elisara’s soldiers here, acting like the enemy? What did Athena’s prophecy mean? Why did she sense the three pins now tucked inside Caellum’s jacket were a clue to helping Novisia move forward to protect the lands or defeat Caligh? Was Caellum okay? Sadira suspected many of her questions would not be answered immediately, but her intentions were set with the Wiccan she hoped would seek her out again. Like last time, Athena suggested Albyn would hold some answers. But a rare anger inside Sadira threatened to bloom from her fingertips, remembering how the red-haired Wiccan and older gentleman had confidently guided her to the imbuement of the swords, potentially knowing it was not to create a weapon to kill Caligh’s creatures, but instead link those they slaughtered to the Sword of Souls. Sadira clenched and unclenched her fists, yet refused to let such negative presumptions cloud her ability to speak rationally.
“Do we assume they will find us again, like last time?” Caellum asked as they strolled arm in arm along the town’s small promenade. Sadira smiled at the florist and bent to sniff a bunch of pink roses.
