The Shadow of Dread: The Bladeborn Saga, Book Six by T.C. Edge

Author:T.C. Edge [Edge, T.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

29

“It will be secure here?” Elyon asked. He needed to be absolutely certain. “No one but you and I will know where it is?”

“It will remain between you and I, Prince Elyon. You have my word.”

“Swear it by godsteel, my lord. I will have your oath.” A part of him hated these oaths now, after that one Amilia had forced him to make, but men of honour tended to stand by them, and Lord Morwood had proven himself such a man.

“As you wish,” the jowly watch commander said. He gripped the leather handle of his godsteel blade and spoke words that Elyon deemed appropriate. Then he looked at him. “Will that serve?”

“It will have to.” Elyon sighed, hating this. He hated much and more these days, his damnable injury foremost among them. “Lock it up, then. But if you breathe a word of this to anyone…”

“I will curse myself to a wretched afterlife. I know the punishments for breaking a godsteel oath, good prince.” He opened the chest in his chambers, an unspectacular trunk of hard ironwood, banded in lengths of old dull steel and hidden in the depths of a cupboard. “Please. Lay it here.”

Elyon grimaced as he drew the Windblade from its sheath, the mists swirling and twisting uncomfortably, as though knowing it was going to be abandoned. He could hear the harsh whispers in the back of his mind, hissing their cautions and concerns. He hesitated a moment, his shoulder throbbing. After a while Morwood gave a cough.

“My lord. I think it would behove me to remind you that you did warn me you might equivocate. And that I should be firm on you when you did, and urge you to leave it here, rather than take it with you. It will be safe, you have my word. It will be waiting for you when you return.”

Elyon nodded reluctantly. “Fine. I’ll…I’ll leave it here.” He took a deep breath and placed the Windblade in the trunk before he could second-guess himself. He took a step away, wrenching against some hidden force. “Shut the chest, my lord. And do it quickly.”

Morwood saw to it, shutting it, locking it. Then he stepped back and closed the cupboard door, locking that as well. Elyon was staring at the door like an addict, his obsession locked beyond two inches of solid wood. This is good, he tried to tell himself. Some time away from it can only be a good thing, even if it’s only hours. He knew that was the case but it didn’t make it any easier. With a great effort, he spun on his heels and marched away out of the room, Lord Morwood trailing behind him.

The corridor outside was empty. At Elyon’s request, no guards had accompanied them, to better preserve his secret. He didn’t trust the soldiers here. Not after all that boorish booing in the arena. He looked left and right all the same, squinting and doubtful. A hand clutched his godsteel dagger, listening for footsteps, for the sound of breathing, for spies hidden in the walls.

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