The Sharpened Blade Read online

  The Sharpened Blade

  R.L. Sanderson

  DARKFALL BOOK TWO

  The Sharpened Blade

  Copyright © R.L. Sanderson 2019

  Creator: Sanderson, R.L., 2019 – author

  Cover design by Ampersand Book Covers 2017

  Subjects: Young adult fantasy

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording scanning or by an information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

  First published 2019 by R.L. Sanderson

  Chapter one

  They made their way in single file down the steep dirt path. Ged’s legs were weak from exhaustion. Every step he took, he thought he would fall. He watched Orla walking ahead of him in the gloom and made himself go on.

  So much had happened it was hard for him to untangle the strands of horror and of grief, to think about each thing clearly as he knew he must. The King, his father, was dead. And then there’d been the wave of power Orla had unleashed that at first he’d seen, silvering the air, then tasted, sharp and metallic in his throat, then felt, constricting his chest, crushing him so he could not move or breathe. The pain had been immense.

  He should have died then. He did die, he remembered, running a hand across his rib cage where he felt his heart now beating strongly. And death had been… gentle. A softening dark. A flowing stream that carried him with it. Until Orla had come.

  He shivered and looked at her again. Her hair was still bundled in the formal knots of the Court, the first time he’d seen her wear it that way. Her dark blue robes were bloodied and torn. He saw her stagger and reach a hand to the trunk of a tree to steady herself. Genevieve passed her, without a glance or offer of assistance.

  ‘Is it much further?’ Ged called to Roland, who was leading them.

  ‘We should be there soon enough,’ Roland replied. ‘Another hour or two.’

  ‘I don’t know if Orla can walk for another hour, Roland.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said, though she was still leaned against the tree.

  Roland frowned, slowing. ‘I’m afraid there is no choice. We cannot safely stop any sooner.’

  ‘Can we at least take a short break? A few minutes can’t do too much harm.’ Ged walked to where Orla was resting and reached for the flask which hung at his hip. ‘Here, drink,’ he said. He wanted to touch her, to take her arm, to help her. But he knew he could not. She wouldn’t allow it. Something had changed in her; he sensed the change but did not understand it.

  Orla looked at the ground as she took the flask from him and took the smallest sip, shuddered, then passed it back.

  ‘As good as the finest draak in my father’s cellars,’ Ged said and offered her a small, sad smile. The cellars were where they had met in secret, after the Council had forbidden him to continue to teach her. Orla just looked at him blankly a moment, no sign of warmth or understanding in her features. Then her lips parted, her eyes rolled back, and she fell to the ground.

  For a moment, Ged felt as though he was frozen. He didn’t know what to do. She was going to die, he was sure of it, just like his mother had, just like his father had. He would lose her.

  ‘Roland!’ he cried. He knelt beside her. Orla’s eyes were open but blind. Her skin was clammy with sweat and appeared grey in the half-light. Was she even breathing? Ged reached for her –

  ‘Don’t.’ Roland strode towards them.

  Ged watched as the old man closed his eyes and murmured some words, then took Orla’s limp hand. ‘Will she be alright?’ Ged asked, swallowing down the fear that rose when he saw how still Orla was, how lifeless. She had come for him in those grey half-lands that led to the realms of the dead. She had drawn him back. She had saved him, but at what cost?

  ‘She needs rest,’ Roland said. ‘And food. And care of a sort I fear I cannot give her.’

  ‘I, for one, will take this opportunity for a short rest myself,’ Genevieve said, leaning back against a tall, moss-covered boulder and closing her eyes. Ged felt the sudden burn of anger. She didn’t care. Genevieve didn’t care whether Orla lived or died, and she took no pains to disguise the fact.

  ‘There is no time to rest. We must keep moving.’ Roland lifted Orla, swung her so she draped over his shoulder like a sack of wheat, then stood. ‘Come,’ he said fiercely as he began to make his way, a little more slowly, back down the path.

  ✤

  Roland hadn’t told them where they were headed, and they had not asked. Ged hoped it might be a village with beds and fire and food, where they could rest in safety for just one night. A place where Orla might find help. The thought allowed him to continue putting one foot before the other, although he had barely the strength to remain upright. Night came quickly on the mountain, a brutal, blind black. It was soon so dark Ged wasn’t sure whether he was moving or standing still, whether this were real or if it were all some strange, awful dream that he might yet wake from.

  Finally, Roland stopped with a sigh. ‘Well, we’re here,’ he said.

  Ged stopped just behind Roland, his legs aching and heavy with tiredness. He studied Orla, but her face was pale and expressionless, her eyes closed. She gave no sign of awareness. She gave no sign of life. Ged looked around to see the place they’d arrived at, but the darkness of ‘here’ appeared no different to the darkness of anywhere else they’d passed in the hours since the sun had set. And then, for a moment, the moon edged out from behind a cloud and Ged saw they were in a small clearing, and before them stood a dome-like building of dark stone. The building was windowless and covered with moss, so it almost seemed to be part of the forest.

  ‘The place carries an ancient protection,’ Roland said. ‘Those who wish to harm us will not be able to find it. We will be safe for a little while.’ And he carried Orla in.

  ✤

  To Ged’s surprise, the hut did not smell of damp and age as he expected. There was a sweetness to the air inside that lightened his heart and lifted his weariness. Roland laid Orla to rest on a sleeping mat by one wall then knelt before a fire pit, using a small strikestone to set spark to the kindling.

  ‘Won’t a fire be seen?’ Ged longed for warmth and light, but they had fled into the forest because they were pursued. Lighting a fire seemed the easiest way to tell the Uruhenshi guard where to find them.

  Roland ignored him and blew gently on the flicker of flame. It began to grow. He worked carefully until some of the smaller sticks caught. Flames flared suddenly. As the fire grew, Ged looked around. Rolled sleeping mats rested against the walls and an old dark-wood chest sat near the fireplace. And beside the chest, a bucket, brimming with clear water. Everything clean, everything in place.

  ‘Did someone know we were coming?’ Ged asked.

  Roland sat looking into the fire for a few moments before replying. ‘The refuge has not been used in many years. But those who keep it have their own ways of knowing when it is needed…’

  Ged frowned. They were in the Harden Forests, domain of the King, and yet he’d never known a place such as this existed? He knew of a few fishing villages, scattered along the banks of the river. Villagers travelled by boat to the city to trade in smoked fish, animal skins and dried berries, but he’d never heard that there were magic-users amongst them. But then, it made sense that the old ways might live on in such isolated places.

  For a moment, despite his tiredness, he felt a shiver of excitement. There was so much he might learn, and not from books but from seeing with his own eyes! He had so many questions… And t
hen he felt sick. His father was dead. Orla, his dearest friend, was terribly hurt. His home was turned over to the enemy. Ishkarin knew how many more would likely die.

  Nothing in this was cause for joy. Learning mattered little in the face of such darkness.

  ‘Food?’ Roland unwrapped a package which contained a crumbling golden flat-bread. Ged waited until Genevieve had torn her portion off then took some for himself, his stomach rumbling so loudly he was sure they would all have heard it.

  ‘Should we save some for Orla too, for when she wakes?’ Ged asked, but Roland just frowned and looked away. Ged felt a sudden cold take him. He looked to where she was lying, seemingly asleep. ‘She will wake, won’t she?’

  ‘Orla overextended herself,’ Roland said. ‘I do not know how long it will take for her to recover or what assistance she might require. I’ve never seen anything like what she did in the Palace. Or with you.’

  ‘I’ll happily eat her portion if rest is what she needs,’ Genevieve said.

  ‘You’d like it, wouldn’t you?’ Ged turned on her, a sudden wave of fury building within him. ‘It would suit you well enough if she never woke again. You hated my mother and you hate Orla for what she is and what she can do.’

  ‘This is neither the time nor the place,’ Roland glared from one to the other of them. ‘I cannot have you quarrelling like children. Our survival and the survival of all the Seven Isles depends on us being able to work together. Do you understand?’

  Genevieve looked away and Ged nodded glumly.

  ‘Now get some rest. We leave at first light.’

  ✤

  Ged chose the bedroll nearest Orla and lay down, not even bothering to take his boots off. He had never been so exhausted. He fell quickly into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  He woke some time later to the sound of voices. For a moment, he had no idea where he was or who he was with, then he smelt wood smoke and saw Roland and Genevieve sitting before the glowing embers of the fire and he remembered everything.

  ‘…it is only two days’ travel and the defences there are strong…’

  ‘It is just what they would expect. We cannot risk it,’ Roland said.

  ‘But I have forces enough at Larkhelm to resist them. It cannot be taken by land. And with the season as it is, there is no possibility of a coastal attack for at least another month.’

  ‘We cannot sustain an open conflict. Once they know where Orla is, they will not stop until they have her.’

  ‘And Gederen too,’ Genevieve murmured. ‘You’re right. Perhaps it is better we send them separately. One with me to Larkhelm, one with you to wherever you see fit. I could take the boy –’

  ‘I am not a boy,’ Ged said sharply, rousing himself and looking across to where Orla still slept. ‘And I’m not leaving Orla.’

  He sat up stiffly. Every muscle in his body ached. He stretched and closed his eyes a moment, letting the pain of his body ground him, then rose and joined the other two by the fire.

  ‘Besides,’ he continued, ‘I do not think Larkhelm will be safe for long. You’re one of the few Councillors who managed to escape and Kynan was not at the Palace at all. The Uruhenshi will not have missed that fact. They will see you as more of a threat to their control of Sondaria than me in the short term. You have forces at your command, people who are loyal to you. You hold territory of strategic importance. You understand the workings of power. I have nothing more than the King’s blood in my veins.’

  ‘Maybe you are right,’ Genevieve sighed and looked away. ‘I wish my brother were here.’

  ‘Good that he is not, I think,’ Roland said. ‘My sense tells me he travelled far enough that he is safe for the present time. At least from the danger of the Uruhenshi. And he may learn important information from his travels. You know he was searching for signs of the Darkfall?’

  ‘Typical Kynan, chasing after stories told to scare children at bedtime when the real monsters are right in front of us.’ Genevieve’s voice was hard.

  Ged looked at her curiously. Had her education been so limited that she could really believe that? ‘The records of the previous Darkfall are detailed and extensive, and that is just those held in the Palace library. My mother spent many years studying them. There are manuscripts written by different scribes, from different places, and they all agree in every important respect. The documentary evidence alone suggests…’

  ‘The Darkfall is coming,’ Roland cut him off. ‘I have no doubt. One such as Orla does not arise in times of light.’

  ‘So what do you suggest?’ Genevieve turned back to Roland. ‘Where do you propose to take them?’

  Ged felt a rush of anger to be talked of in this way, but for the moment he bit it down. It was more important that he listen and think.

  Roland looked uneasy. ‘There is a safehaven on the isle of Koralis. The Sanctuary in the caverns of Dor Fareyn is out of reach of the Uruhenshi and I believe we will find assistance there to help us meet what is to come.’

  ‘The Grim Isle? You really wish to take them there?’

  Roland shook his head and sighed. ‘I do not wish it, but I do not see there is a choice. The Seven Isles have never been so unprepared.’

  There was a groaning sound. Orla. Ged leapt to his feet.

  ‘Not you. You stay here,’ Roland spoke sternly to him, then picked up the bucket of water and carried it across to where she lay. Ged wanted more than anything to go to her, to take her hand, but he respected Roland’s instruction and restrained himself. Orla had mentioned when he’d been tutoring her that reading his thoughts sometimes caused her pain; and he knew her ability was heightened by physical contact. He could imagine that in her weakened state what was usually just painful might actually be dangerous. The chain that Roland wore protected Orla, Ged realised. He watched as her eyelids fluttered. Roland put an arm around her shoulders and lifted her slightly off the bed, then brought a cup of water to her lips. She drank, a few uncertain swallows.

  ‘That is good,’ Roland murmured. ‘Now sleep, child. You are safe. There is nothing for you to fear.’ And he lay her back down again. He looked at her for a moment with such tenderness that Ged felt tears prick his eyes. Ged still hoped that Orla would just wake and be well, but what if she did not? He could not bear to lose her. And he feared there was more at stake than just his feelings.

  ‘She’s important somehow, isn’t she?’ Ged said quietly as Roland made his way back to the fire. ‘I could not find much written about the Nekrotien, but everything I did find was ominous and profound. It is as though those making the record could not even bear to write directly about them. All accounts were layered with metaphor and symbolism.’ He did not repeat the phrase he had read, over and over, that had chilled him. Feared by even the Gods.

  ‘It is true, Orla may prove to be very important. If she lives,’ Roland said. Ged waited, hoping for more, but Roland just sank back down beside the fireplace, and poked at the embers, releasing a shimmering stream of sparks that rose in the air like fireflies.

  ‘I cannot travel to Koralis with you,’ Genevieve spoke into the silence.

  ‘I did not think you would,’ Roland said.

  ‘I can’t run and hide. There’s a war to fight. I have been preparing for this day for years.’

  ‘Do what you must,’ Roland sighed. ‘But don’t forget that your fight will mean nothing if you are not also ready for the coming of the Darkfall. It changes everything.’

  Chapter two

  They had not been walking long before it began to rain: first a fine drizzle that pricked the skin, and then a scattering of larger drops that soon turned to a downpour.

  ‘Can we take shelter until it passes?’ Ged asked, worrying for Orla. She still had not woken. He could see the droplets of rain sparkling like diamonds in her dark hair.

  ‘Do you know how the Uruhenshi track their prey?’ Roland looked across at Ged. Ged shook his head.

  ‘Scent. The rachim that have been patrolling the Palace grounds a
re likely on our path even now. They are incredible hunters, tireless and persistent. And they follow a scent. This rain may confuse them, which gives us a very slight advantage. We must hurry and make good ground.’

  Ged shivered, and not from the cold. He remembered the day the rachim had been brought to the Palace, a gift from the Uruhenshi High Commander. They had held them on leads like house-dogs and walked them through the Great Hall and up onto the dais to present them to the King. Ged had been terrified of their powerful jaws and deadly sharp teeth, their yellow eyes, the midnight gloss of their coats. He had seen them in his dreams for weeks after. He knew he was supposed to feel safer – they were patrolling the Palace grounds after dark, preventing any intruders from entering. But he did not feel safe. He felt like a prisoner.

  And now, if what Roland said was true, he was their prey.

  ✤

  They made good progress that morning despite the rain. When it finally came time to rest, they sheltered under a tree as best they could. Ged had carried one of the sleeping mats from the hut and he unrolled it in the driest spot he could find, and Roland gently lowered Orla down. The rain had not stopped all morning, and a low mist had settled, which meant they could not see further than a few arms-lengths ahead of them. Ged reminded himself it was just mist, droplets of water suspended in air, but still the eeriness of it unnerved him. He kept imaging he could see the shape of the rachim weaving between the trees or padding up the path towards them. Roland brought out more of the bread they had eaten the night before; it was dry and stale, but better than nothing.

  Orla looked a little better than she had the day before. As they rested Ged studied her face. He could see a pink tinge had returned to her cheeks and she no longer looked clammy. But still, she seemed lost in a sleep so deep as to be close to death.