The Umbral Storm (The Sharded Few Book 1) by Alec Hutson

Author:Alec Hutson [Hutson, Alec]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-19T16:00:00+00:00

25

HETH

To Heth’s surprise, he found himself part of the escort tasked with bringing the strangers to the Duskhold’s audience chamber. After Joras Shen had invited the old woman inside – he was the second most powerful man under the Shadow, though that was surprising given his demeanor – Heth had hoped he’d be able to slink back to his post up on the battlements. After his encounter with the Duskhold’s young lords when they had come close to executing Alia for desertion, he wanted to keep well out of sight until his face might have faded from their memory. But the shadow-sharded who had also been on guard duty atop the Duskhold had seen him and Benni edging for the stairs and had gestured angrily for them to fall in behind the storm-sharded.

Heth had grown up on tales of the Shadow’s enemies, stories that described them as treacherous as the sea during a storm. The merchants in Kething’s Cross claimed that the caravans from Flail had the most canny and duplicitous traders in the world. Heth had never had much trouble with any of them, and they’d been respectful enough while dining in the Bull. Bad blood still lingered from the old wars between the Storm and Shadow, but it had never turned to blows while Heth was present. In truth, he’d always wanted to visit Flail, the mighty port on the Sea of Salvation and the greatest city of the north.

These storm-sharded were at first impression jarringly different from the inhabitants of the Duskhold. While the followers of the Shadow all dressed in the same simple black robes and drifted through the cavernous halls in somber silence, these guests from the Windwrack glittered in their silver armor and bejeweled dresses, their loud voices echoing in the hold. Heth noticed the shadow-sharded who had first recruited them to meet the visitors wincing at the sound, but Joras Shen seemed delighted with the noise and even joined in with a booming laugh when one of the storm-sharded said something to him. The Duskhold might be a joyless monastery, but the Windwrack seemed like it could be more akin to the bright court of a merry king or queen.

Finally, they arrived in a vast chamber dominated by a towering set of copper doors inlaid with swirling designs. The stonework here was far more ornate than in the Hollow’s quarters, epics carved into the walls of warriors in strangely ornamented armor fighting great monsters while a man hovered above it all, light streaming from his upturned palms. Some of those creatures brought to mind the riftbeast they’d encountered, but others looked even more fantastical, with many leering heads on stalk-like necks, and one monster that resembled the moon if it had been called down and given scuttling legs and jagged teeth.

Joras Shen stepped in front of the great doors as if he expected them to open for him. Heth was waiting for him to knock or push hard on the gleaming metal, but

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