The Mythical Hero's Otherworld Chronicles: Volume 2 (eBook)

“That’s not what I was— I mean, ssh! You’ll wake her up!”

The man was Tris von Tarmier, a third class military tribune and one of Liz’s closest retainers. His anger dissipated as his lantern’s light fell on Hiro’s face. “Oh, it’s you, whelp. What’s got you sneaking about so late?”

“Well, about that...” Fearing that if he hesitated, Tris would interpret it as evidence of impure motives, Hiro offered a brief explanation.

“So that’s the way of it.” Tris nodded once Hiro was done. “You wanted to ascertain that Her Highness was asleep so you could leave in secrecy.”

“I mean, I can’t exactly take her with me,” Hiro said.

“Aye, true enough. I’d not want her to leave the fortress either. Still, you’re a royal now, are you not? With the second emperor’s blood? I’d say you’re entitled to an escort, if you want one.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea. Most of the nobles at the royal court don’t know what to make of me yet, the emperor included. The last thing I want is to come on too strong.”

Until the emperor acknowledged his claim, Hiro commanded less authority than a common peasant. It would be sensible to be discreet. If he was ever to bring Liz’s dream to fruition, his allies would need to outnumber his enemies. It would not do to sour relations before he had even begun.

“Bah,” Tris spat. “Too cautious by half, if you ask me. One look at your hair and eyes should be all the proof anyone needs, black as they are.”

“Those wouldn’t be hard to fake,” Hiro pointed out. If it came down to it, he could produce Excalibur, but that was truly a last resort. It was highly likely that First Prince Stovell would be present during his audience with the emperor. Unsheathing the Heavenly Sovereign in the emperor’s presence would allow the prince to raise an uproar about Hiro being an assassin and draw steel. The result would be the worst-case scenario: Stovell celebrated as a hero for defending the emperor and Liz executed for treason. Hiro was bound for the imperial palace now. In that swirling cauldron of desires and ambitions, there was no such thing as too cautious.

“I should be off,” he said. “Time’s pressing.”

“Aye, so it is. Am I to take it you won’t need an escort, then?”

“I won’t,” Hiro said.

“Then how do you mean to get there?” The old soldier scratched his chin. “As I recall, you never learned to ride.”

“I was planning to head to Linkus on foot and meet with Kiork.” From there, he could catch a stagecoach to take him to the imperial capital.

Tris hummed in thought. “Aye, might be it’s worth a shot.”

“What is?”

“This way, whelp. I’ve a gift for you.” Tris turned his back and strode away. Hiro followed apprehensively. Together they wound their way through the fort. Eventually, they arrived at the stables—or so Hiro thought, before Tris led him past them to an empty plot of land where a sturdy metal cage rested.

“This fine fellow’s what I wanted to show you.” The old soldier gave the cage a thump. Something inside squirmed, emitting a strange cry.

“What is it?” Hiro asked.

Tris flashed him a wicked grin. “This, lad... This is a swiftdrake.”

＊

As the sun rose on a cloud-flecked sky, Berg Fortress began to wake. The morning found Tris seated in the officer’s mess hall after seeing Hiro off, grumbling to himself. The old soldier’s well-muscled build spoke of might easily equal to his younger contemporaries, but now, with his brows knotted in consternation, he looked far from the fearsome taskmaster his subordinates knew.

“Blast that whelp!” he suddenly cried. The breakfasting soldiers nearby spun around to stare at him, but he was too preoccupied by his woes to notice.

Liz wandered up to his table, so pale and lifeless that she might have been a ghost. “He abandoned me... Hiro abandoned me...” she repeated to herself as she took the seat opposite him.

To see the girl he thought of as a daughter in such a state, Tris could not help but set his own troubles aside. “Whatever’s the matter, Your Highness?” he asked.

“Hiro’s gone,” she said.

“Is that so?”

“He must have gone to see Uncle. If he can’t ride, he has to be traveling by stagecoach.”

Horses were well-practiced at sensing human emotions. They mocked those they disliked and took pleasure in unseating those who showed hesitation, but time and affection could transform them into faithful companions. Hiro’s problem was not with his technique; he sat a horse with a natural ease. It was that his mounts refused to heed him. Without fail, every single one bucked him off and bolted.

“Aye, speaking of riding...” Seeing as it related both to horses and to Hiro, Tris decided it was time to broach the topic. “Have you ever ridden a swiftdrake, Your Highness?”

“A swiftdrake? Of course not. You do know they’re descended from actual dragons, don’t you? They’d never let a human on their backs. Only a handful of beastfolk ever get to ride one, and they speak dragon.”

All of what Liz said was true, and yet Hiro had done just that, right before Tris’s eyes. In fact, not only had the swiftdrake allowed the boy onto its back, it had actually lowered its head to make it easier for him.

“Come to think of it, don’t we have one in the fortress?” Liz asked. “I’m sure I remember hearing that there was one terrorizing the local towns. Didn’t we capture it?”

“Aye, we did. Until the whelp rode off on it.”

“Hah! Oh, Tris, you’re too funny.”

“That’s no jest, Your Highness. I saw it with my own eyes. The boy hopped on the beast’s back and rode off before dawn, easy as you please! I swear it’s true!” Tris finished his rant, then froze, realizing that he had misstepped.

“Oh, really? It sounds like you have some explaining to do.” Liz’s mouth was smiling, but her eyes were cold. The blood drained from Tris’s face.

“Mercy, Your Highness, I beg you!”

He barely even had time to plead before his scream echoed through the mess hall.

＊

The fourteenth day of the seventh month of Imperial Year 1023

The sun hung in a cloudless azure sky, showering its rays mercilessly down onto the fertile earth. Across the grasslands, heavy with the scent of verdant greenery, a shadow raced. Its low-slung figure was smaller than a horse, but far faster, with powerful legs that propelled it onward at monstrous speed. Riding on its back, dressed in his black uniform, was Hiro.

It’s just like Tris said! Even a novice can ride one! And it’s so fast!

The wind skimmed past his cheeks, sending flower petals dancing in his wake. It felt as though he had become one with the natural world.

His mount was a gift from Tris—some kind of creature called a swiftdrake. Supposedly, they were native not to Soleil but the Shaitan Islands to the east. They had spread to Soleil three hundred years ago, when some enterprising adventurer brought several back to the mainland from a voyage overseas. The cargo had escaped into the wilds, where they had multiplied and thrived.

“Take me right on up to Kiork’s mansion!”

With his mood much improved from the ride, Hiro commanded his steed through the streets of Linkus. Although dawn had barely broken, the main thoroughfare was already bustling with pedestrians and early rising market stalls. Now that the threat of war had passed, the town was regaining its former vibrancy.

Hiro pulled up at the mansion, leaped down from the swiftdrake, and trotted up to the figure by the gate.

“Well met, Lord Hiro,” the middle-aged man greeted him. “I hope your journey was not too taxing.”

“Kurt, isn’t it? It’s been a while.”

Kurt von Tarmier served Margrave Kiork both as his aide and as the chief butler of his household. He had been the first to welcome Liz’s company when they had first arrived in Linkus.

“Quite so. Please, follow me. You and the margrave have much to discuss, and it would not do to keep him waiting.”

Von Tarmier ushered Hiro through the doors to the first floor parlor, a square room with spotless white walls. A window on the western wall commanded a view of Linkus’s affluent northern quarter. Hiro took a seat on a plush, L-shaped sofa in the center of the room. Opposite him, across the table, sat Kiork.

“So, it’s a stagecoach to the capital you’re after?” Kiork said after Hiro had finished his explanation. He took a sip of the coffee his maid had placed on the table and relaxed into his customary half-smile. “I could certainly arrange that. When do you intend to depart?”

“Today, if I can,” Hiro replied. “Would that be possible?”

“You’re in quite a hurry. Would there be any harm in going tomorrow?”

“I’d rather not. His Majesty didn’t give me a time limit, but I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Kiork nodded. “There’s certainly sense in that.” He smiled, then softly clapped his hands. “Kurt, fetch me a pen and parchment.”

“At once, milord.” Von Tarmier bowed and silently exited the room.