The Towering Flame: The Survivors: Book One by Robert I. Katz

Author:Robert I. Katz [Katz, Robert I.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-26T06:00:00+00:00

Miramar was not quite what Blake had been expecting. Most of it was newer, for one thing, the original buildings having been constructed a mere seven hundred years before, by Lord Montoya’s grandfather, and expanded, since then, in a variety of styles. It was circled by a moat and lay in the center of a flat plain. Not the easiest place to defend, Blake thought, but difficult to sneak up on. Nevertheless, the walls were stout and would not be easily breached.

Miramar lay less than two kilometers from the ruins of the old keep, whose name had been lost, or deliberately expunged. Legend had it that the old keep had been inhabited by a family of sorcerers, who had grown arrogant and challenged the Primate of the time, which turned out to be a mistake. The shattered towers of the old keep now rose in grim, moldering piles from the edges of the plain, covered by moss and centuries of dead leaves. The First Baron Montoya, a loyal adherent of the Primate, had been granted the land, the title and permission to build his own castle.

“They weren’t really sorcerers,” Emilio Montoya said. “There is no such thing as a sorcerer.” He squinted down into his wine cup. “Or so we are told.”

“You believe otherwise?”

“I believe that they were strong at the weaving of soul-stuff. Very strong. It is said that the first of their line built the keep himself, in less than a week, using nothing more than a pile of stone and the resources of his mind.”

“That seems unlikely,” Blake said.

“Quite,” Lord Montoya said. He shrugged. “I have another assignment for you, Blake.”

Blake looked up. “Yes?”

“The High Table is meeting next week. I’d like you to be in charge of the bodyguard detail.”

Blake nodded. “Of course, if you wish.”

Emilio Montoya grinned. “News of your little escapade in Valandraud has travelled widely. The fact that you’re in my service has reflected well upon us both, and you, of course, are now an object of curiosity.”

The escapade in Valandraud had, in Blake’s opinion (an opinion he kept firmly to himself), been stupid, dangerous and absurd. Not for the first time, he wondered if returning to Fomaut had been a mistake. Irina Archer was a long-ago part of his past, and the sight of her had brought back memories he did not enjoy dwelling on.

Notoriety, depending on the mission, could be a help or a hindrance. Blake Pierce was a ronin, a wandering mercenary. Such men did, on occasion, find a situation that they preferred to make permanent, and ceased to wander. Blake had been offered several such positions during his career, all of which he had refused, but when seeking the next commission, a reputation for competence and dependability was always an asset. Notoriety it would be.

Aside from the idiocy at Valandraud, his commission at Miramar had so far gone much as expected. Drill the troops. Train the trainees. Keep watch for threats, real or imagined. Follow orders.

He had acted as a bodyguard on many prior occasions.

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