Besieged

  When things are darkest. When the urge to quit is strongest. That is when victory waits to see if we will persevere.

  ~ Kyam of Elpan

  Also By Verity Moore

  Summoned: Through Ancient Portals, Book 1

  Pursued: Through Ancient Portals, Book 2

  Copyright © 2020 Verity Moore

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information contact: www.veritymoore.com

  Book and Cover design by McLennan Creative

  TO MARLENE BAGNULL—who encouraged a new writer not to quit.

  Welcome to Capular…

  Here’s what has happened so far.

  After Cierra receives the summons to return home to her father’s death bed, she starts the journey across the vast land of Capular, encountering dangers both natural and supernatural. If not for Kyam, exiled warrior of Elpan, and his extraordinary canine, Castoff, she would never survive. The question becomes can she survive Kyam’s gentle, relentless wooing?

  In their travels they encounter ominous signs of trouble: in city after city they find the watcher guardian desperately ill, the temple bells rung poorly, the citizens dull and unaware, and pompous assistants usurping great authority.

  After surviving several attempts on their lives, it becomes apparent that someone wants them dead. While running for their lives yet again, Cierra and Kyam stumble upon an underground supernatural river which enables them to travel quickly and safely. The river also reveals their enemy, Merlick, and his goal—the total annihilation of Capular.

  Merlick knows Cierra and Kyam stand in the way of victory, and will do whatever it takes to stop them—including using evil powers to track them by the signals (plumes) created by their negative emotions.

  Terrified and hounded by guilt, Cierra sees no way forward. Merlick is following her every move because of the simmering anger she can’t control that sends a towering plume from one end of the horizon to the other.

  The Masters intervene, giving her fresh hope: They have a way to overcome her anger. But she must first prepare her heart to receive Their solution.

  In the meantime, the river brings them to the Lipfar portal, but the way in is blocked with massive boulders too great for them to move. Now they must discover a new way to reach Cierra’s father.

  Their best option: proceed to the city of Risler…

  Chapter 1

  Cierra followed Kyam and Castoff out of the small dark room below ground—very like the one in Sumai. They crept upstairs to the main floor. Nothing. No people, no carpets, no furnishing, no curtains. Her chest felt as hollow as the rooms.

  Castoff nosed in corners and found nothing. Had the citadel been abandoned? Had His Eminence destroyed all those loyal to The Masters? Tingles slid up and down her back.

  Her booted steps rang in the empty rooms even though she tried to think of feathers as she walked. The silence in the citadel was so great even a mouse’s scampering sounded like furniture dragged across a stone floor.

  The dog set off down another hall. Kyam followed while she walked exactly two steps behind. They prowled the corridors no longer speaking even in whispers, using hand signals instead.

  Castoff stiffened and nosed the air. When Kyam lifted his hand, she froze. The dog growled low, but quieted as soon as Kyam touched his head. Kyam pointed forward and the dog paced ahead, his hair bristling. Cierra moved closer.

  Another ten steps and she could hear it too.

  The sound of voices.

  Kyam stopped, glanced into another room, before stepping inside. He reappeared with two cudgels. He handed one to her. It had once been a chair leg with beautiful carvings. Hers still had the smooth feel of polished wood. They tucked their longer, thinner staffs into their packs.

  Weapons ready, they eased closer to the voices. Two rooms stood opposite each other, both with doors ajar. The voices became separate and distinct.

  “Is there anything I can do for you, Your Reverence? Some water perhaps?” The emotionless voice came from the room on the right.

  “Nothing.” It was a wavering woman’s voice.

  Kyam nudged the door on the left. When it didn’t protest, he pushed it open and checked inside. When Castoff stepped into the room without hesitating, Kyam signaled Cierra to go in as well.

  At Kyam’s command, Castoff lay down next to the opening and waited. After closing the door until only a small crack remained, they listened.

  “Lusan.” It was the female voice. “You are too young to be the Watcher.”

  “I know, Mama.” A girl’s voice was crowded with tears.

  “But there is no other,” continued the woman. “Stay close to The Masters’ voice.”

  “I will. Oh, Mama, it is so hard.”

  “Nifwig will help you.”

  “Of course, Your Reverence.” Still no emotion. Another of His Eminence's puppets?

  “Who knows, you may even be able to cure him of the habit of addressing you as ‘Your Reverence.’”

  Lusan’s giggle ended with a sob. “Mama, I’m frightened.”

  Castoff rose and pulled his lips back in a silent snarl. Footsteps sounded in the hall followed by a knock on the Watcher’s door.

  “Excuse me, Your Reverence, and my apologies. I left specific instructions you were not to be disturbed.” Nifwig sounded upset.

  Through the crack in their door Cierra saw a hand holding the opposite door open far enough to speak but not to see into the Watcher’s room. It was a soft, pampered hand, milk white—which made it a perfect foil for the large blood-red ruby on the finger. And that was a perfect match for the assistant’s satin sleeve. Did he have a matching ring for each robe? Was that his way of shouting his importance?

  Perhaps she unfairly judged him based on her experience with Hosni. She hoped so.

  “Well,” Nifwig hissed. “What is it?”

  “Many pardons, my lord, but you are needed in the courtyard.”

  “It will have to wait. I am not to be disturbed.”

  “But…” The guard shifted uneasily.

  “But what?”

  “One of His Em…” The guard stopped mid-word when Nifwig raised his hand. The great ruby ring flashed fire. Only after Nifwig stepped into the hall and closed the Watcher’s door did he signal the guard to continue. “One of His Eminence’s fulcarries has landed with an urgent message.”

  Cierra tensed. What were fulcarries? This was the second time she had heard them mentioned and always in the employ of His Eminence. No, she had not misjudged Nifwig. It was Catliff, again.

  “A fulcarry in daylight where any might see?” Nifwig glanced at the closed door. Regret rippled across his face. “Very well. I had hoped to see the culmination of all my plans; however, this must take precedence.”

  “Shall I remain, my lord?”

  “Unnecessary. There are none to aid them. Return in an hour to dispose of the body. And deal with the girl.”

  Kyam and Cierra waited until they no longer heard footsteps. Even then Kyam checked the hallway in both directions before signaling Cierra and Castoff to enter the Watcher’s room. It was as vast as Cierra expected it to be, but far less furnished. Little remained but the bed and one chair. Oh yes, and the telltale plush floor cushions. Why was all the furniture missing? She took a deep breath. The emptiness pressed in. She was as
insignificant as an ant.

  At the far side a young girl, perhaps fifteen, perched on the edge of the only chair. Her hand was outstretched to clutch one of the woman’s who lay in the enormous bed. Both had red hair. Vibrant in the girl, faded in the Watcher.

  “Who are you? What are you doing? Can’t you give us these last moments in peace?” The girl stood, hands fisted at her side.

  “Guard, Castoff.” The dog sat with his nose next to the door’s seam at Kyam’s command.

  “Please forgive our bold, unannounced entrance, Watcher.” Kyam pulled a water skin from his pack as he walked toward the frail woman in the enormous bed. “I am Kyam, first Godolphin of Elpan, and this is Cierra, sighted daughter of Watcher Reg.”

  “We are here to help,” Cierra added as she shrugged her pack off and searched for the antidote powder. She smiled at the girl. “What are your names?”

  “I’m Lusan. And she is Watcher Lyn. Why should we trust you? How did you get in?” Lusan asked.

  “I am beyond help,” Lyn murmured.

  Kyam grabbed a goblet, and after sniffing carefully, rinsed it with water from a pitcher, then dried it thoroughly. “As long as there is breath, there is help.” He poured healing water from the skin into the goblet and added the powder Cierra handed him. When he couldn’t find an instrument with which to stir, he covered the top with his hand and shook it. “You have been poisoned. This water comes from a healing river flowing out of The Masters’ Empire. The powder is a natural antidote.”

  Watcher Lyn stared hard at Kyam, then nodded. “The ancient writings promise great signs when men learn to harness the spiritual and natural realms, uniting them. The new force will be greater than either alone.”

  “Mother isn’t going to die?” Cold fingers squeezed Cierra’s arm. “It will not make her die sooner? I do not want to lose her one moment before I must.”

  “The powder has helped others. And the water mended Kyam’s broken bones in less than a minute.”

  Steadying the Watcher’s head and shoulders with one hand Kyam helped her hold the goblet to her lips with the other. When she had drained the cup she closed her eyes and relaxed against the mound of pillows. Cierra held her breath and Lusan’s hand.

  A tinge of color touched the Watcher’s cheek like the first hint of sunrise. Kyam nodded and grinned at Cierra. Her return smile quivered at the corners. Delight spread like the opening petals of a rose. They had been in time. Furthermore, they had acted as one without the need for words.

  Her breath caught. For so long she had felt alone. Then Kyam appeared and she knew companionship. But this was far beyond a mere sense of another’s presence; this was completion. Just as the water and antidote were more together then either was alone, so she and Kyam became stronger as one.

  Cierra looked at a future filled with possibilities. What might they accomplish with this power at their disposal?

  The Watcher opened her eyes. “I have not felt this good in months.” She turned to Kyam. “Your mixture is powerful indeed. I thank you.” She struggled to sit up.

  Kyam shoved a couple of pillows behind the Watcher. “Gather your strength. Danger lurks in your corridors.”

  “What danger is this? Lusan, ring for food. If I am to confront evil, I must have food.”

  The girl hesitated, glancing between her mother and Cierra. “I’m not sure anyone will come, Mother.”

  “Of course they will; their Watcher calls.”

  “If this city is like others, those loyal to you have been replaced.” Cierra wrapped her arm around Lusan’s shivering shoulders.

  “We must not tarry.” Kyam offered his hand to Lyn. “The guards will return shortly expecting to find a body.”

  Lyn put her still trembling hand into his and allowed him to pull her from the bed. “They will rejoice to see their Watcher lives.”

  “If they were your guards and if they considered you their leader, they would. But they serve another.”

  “No. You are wrong. Nifwig…”

  “Nifwig,” Cierra interrupted, “works for someone called His Eminence.” As Lyn started to object, she added, “Just who do you think poisoned you?”

  When Lyn still looked unconvinced, Kyam said, “We have traveled across Capular and found it so in every city we entered. Watchers ill, or dying…or dead. Fed poison by a trusted hand.”

  “We overheard His Eminence speak of his plans.” Cierra glanced at Castoff. It would not be long until the guards returned, but the dog gave no indication of their approach yet.

  “Your citadel is all but deserted. No people, no furnishings, no scents of habitation.” Kyam wove his words between hers, creating a fabric of facts.

  “That is true, Mama. I went looking for Gaspar yesterday and found only empty rooms. And the guard was angry with me for leaving my chamber.” Lusan paused, “I have seen a strange look on Nifwig’s face when he is turned away from you. It frightens me.”

  “Who is His Eminence?” Lyn scowled.

  “A man, or being, we are not sure which, who plots to capture all of Capular in his net. Come, we must leave.” Kyam urged Lyn toward the door with a hand wrapped around her elbow.

  “His first step is to eliminate all Watchers.” Cierra hugged Lusan to her side.

  They froze when Castoff growled.

  A quick survey of the room showed no place for even one person to hide, let alone four with a dog the size of a baby elephant.

  “Quickly, across the hall,” Kyam ordered.

  Lusan and Cierra scuttled from Lyn’s bedroom with Lyn and Castoff close behind. Kyam paused long enough to silently shut the bedroom door. Cierra stood, cudgel in hand, at the side of the opposite door and waited for Kyam to join them. Lyn and Lusan huddled together behind her.

  Kyam slipped into the room and closed the door. He pointed to the glass window above the door. A quick glance around the room revealed a table and chair. She tiptoed to retrieve the chair. It felt sturdy when she wiggled it.

  He placed the chair by the door and held out a hand to help her stand on it. Resting her palm against the wall and angling her head, she could see the hallway. He passed the chair leg to her. If the guards tried to enter, it would give her an advantage.

  Castoff planted himself next to Cierra’s chair; she knew he would lay down his life to defend her. Unless a large contingent of guards came, they had a good chance of winning this battle.

  This battle. Ahead loomed an unending wave of battles to be fought, enemies to be subdued, and fatigue to be endured. Just reaching the haven of the secret river posed a multitude of dangers. Peace and safety became a distant dream, a prize to be won by endurance, hardship and open warfare.

  The quiet secure life she had known was gone.

  Perhaps it had only been an illusion—a false peace based on ignorance. When a longing for that life rose within her, she crushed it and tossed it in the ash heap. To linger in regrets for what might never have been was foolish.

  If His Eminence had enough cities in his control, if the remaining Watchers, like Lyn, hesitated, if they were too far outnumbered in battle, if the complacent citizens of Capular refused to fight—she might never again live where peace and safety dwelled.

  Three guards stomped their way to the Watcher’s bedroom door. Cierra eased back lest they see her. Without asking permission to enter, they barged in. Shouts and thumps echoed in the hall.

  Then the guards erupted from the room just as Nifwig arrived. “What’s wrong?”

  “They’re gone.”

  “Both dead? Lusan killed herself?”

  “No, my lord, there is no one in the room.”

  “Impossible.” Nifwig pushed them aside to enter. His howl matched Castoff’s best effort. He stormed from the room. “Find them. Call out all the guards. Tear this building to the ground if necessary, but find them.” Two guards raced away. Nifwig turned to the remaining one. “How did this happen? Lyn was weak, near death. Lusan could not carry her body by herself. Someone has helped
them. There is a traitor among us.

  “Months of carefully plotted strategy. Killing Lyn slowly to avoid suspicion. Everything just as it should be and now this.” Nifwig slammed his fist against the wall. “His Eminence will be furious.”

  “We have guarded the gates most carefully.”

  “Well according to the fulcarry, Sumai said the same, yet that Watcher’s whelp slipped through their fingers.” Nifwig pulled fistfuls of his own hair. “The fulcarry. Tell me it has left.”

  “No, my lord.”

  Nifwig groaned, “Then he probably knows of our problem already. His Eminence will know it within the day. Our only hope is to correct the situation before his executioners and replacements arrive. While half are searching, station the other half in the corridors so there is no possibility the traitors can move undetected.”

  “Yes, my lord. Do you wish me to search this corridor first?”

  Cierra tightened her hold on the stick while she waited for Nifwig’s reply.

  “No, they would not be so foolish as to linger here.”

  ✽✽✽

  For hours they slipped up and down corridors trying to reach the secret river but at every turn they found sentries posted. An unrelenting wave of guards scouring every room in every corridor drove them farther and farther from their goal until they retreated to a little-used upper room in the far corner of the citadel. Shouts and tramping feet didn’t follow them to this attic space: they had avoided detection. But sooner or later their haven would be breached.

  Only one way in and out. A defensible last stand. And a trap without escape. One tiny window, grime covered and stubbornly shut, held no hope. But it did provide fresh air and late afternoon light when Kyam finally forced it open.

  Like many rooms situated below a roof, this one was used to store junk and jetsam. Kyam and Lyn constructed a barricade of sorts from the piles of discarded tables, chairs and blankets. They armed themselves with rusted gardening tools. Lyn picked up a shovel. “My father used husbandry as a means to relax and commune. How his favorite hoe and shovel ended up in here, I don’t know.”