Rise of Empire (The Riyria Revelations #3-4)

“I’m kinda busy at the moment. Can this wait?” Hadrian asked.

“I don’t think so. Thranic and Staul just followed Royce and Bernie into the jungle.”





Royce heard the click of the release and began to move even before the hiss of the string indicated the missile’s launch. Still, his reflexes could not move faster than a flying bolt. The metal shaft pierced his side below the rib cage. The impact thrust him backward, where he collapsed in pain.

“Lucky we found you, Bernie,” Thranic told the startled thief as he moved away from Royce’s body. “He would have killed you. Isn’t that what you said bucket men do? Now, don’t you feel foolish for saying I couldn’t protect you?”

“You could have hit me!” Bernie snapped.

“Stop being so dramatic. You’re alive, aren’t you? Besides, I heard the conversation. It didn’t take much for you to give me up. In my profession, lack of faith is a terrible sin.”

“In mine, it’s all too often justified,” Bernie snarled back.

“Get back to the camp before you’re missed.”

Bernie grumbled as he trotted back up the path. Thranic watched his retreat.

“We might have to do something about him,” the sentinel told the Tenkin. “Funny that you, my heathen friend, should be my stalwart ally in all this.”

“Bernie, he thinks too much. Me? I am just greedy, and therefore trustworthy. We going to just leave the body?”

“No, it’s too close to the path we’ll be taking tomorrow, and I can’t count on the animals eating him before we break camp. Drag him away. A few yards should be enough.”

“Royce?” Hadrian shouted from behind them on the trail.

“Quickly, you idiot. They’re coming!”

Staul rushed forward and, planting his torch in the ground, lifted Royce and ran with him into the jungle. He had traveled only a few dozen yards when he cursed.

Royce was still breathing.

“Izuto!” the Tenkin hissed, drawing his dagger.

“Too late,” Royce whispered.





Hadrian led them into the trees the way Royce had gone earlier. Ahead he spotted the glow of a torch and ran toward it. Behind him Wyatt, Poe, Grady, and Derning followed.

“There’s blood here,” Hadrian announced when he got to the burning torch thrust in the ground. “Royce!”

“Spread out!” Wyatt ordered. “Sweep the grass and look for more blood.”

“Over here!” Derning shouted, moving into the ferns. “There, up ahead. Two of them, Staul and Royce!”

Hadrian cut his way through the thick undergrowth to where they lay. Royce was breathing hard, holding his blood-soaked side. His face was pale, but his eyes remained focused.

“How ya doing, buddy?” Hadrian asked, dropping to his knees and carefully slipping an arm under his friend.

Royce didn’t say anything. He kept his teeth clenched, blowing his cheeks out with each breath.

“Get his feet, Wyatt,” Hadrian ordered. “Now lift him gently. Poe, get out front with the torch.”

“What about Staul?” Derning asked.

“What about him?” Hadrian glanced down at the big Tenkin, whose throat lay open, slit from ear to ear.

When they returned to camp, Wesley ordered Royce to be taken to his tent, which was the largest, originally reserved for Captain Seward. He started to send Poe for Dr. Levy, but Hadrian intervened. Wesley appeared confused, but as Hadrian was Royce’s best friend, he did not press the issue. The Vintu were surprisingly adept at first aid, and under Hadrian’s watchful eye they cleaned and dressed the wound.

The bolt aimed at Royce’s heart had entered and exited cleanly. He suffered significant blood loss, but no organ damage, nor broken bones. The Vintu sealed the tiny entry hole without a problem. The larger tearing of his flesh at the exit was another matter. It took a dozen bandages and many basins of water before they got the bleeding under control and Royce lay, sleeping calmly.

“Why wasn’t I notified about this? I’m a physician, for Maribor’s sake!”

Hadrian stepped outside the tent flap to find Levy arguing with Wyatt, Poe, Grady, and Derning, who, at Hadrian’s request, guarded the entrance.

“Ah, Dr. Levy, just the man I wanted to see,” Hadrian addressed him. “Where’s your boss? Where’s Thranic?”

Levy did not need to answer, as across the camp Thranic walked toward them alongside Wesley and Bernie.

Hadrian drew his sword at their approach.

“Put away your weapon!” Wesley ordered.

“This man nearly killed Royce tonight,” Hadrian declared, pointing at Thranic.

“That’s not the way he tells it,” Wesley replied. “He said Seaman Melborn attacked and murdered Seaman Staul over accusations regarding Seaman Drew’s death. Mr. Thranic and Seaman Defoe claim they were witnesses.”

“We don’t claim anything. We saw it,” Thranic said coolly.

“And how do you claim this took place?” Hadrian asked.

“Staul confronted Royce, telling him he was going to Wesley with evidence. Royce warned him that he would never live to see the dawn. Then, when Staul turned to walk back to camp, Royce grabbed him from behind and slit his throat. Bernie and I expected such treachery from him, but we couldn’t convince Staul not to confront the blackguard. So we followed. I brought a crossbow, borrowed from Mr. Dilladrum’s supplies, for protection. I fired in self-defense.”

“He’s lying,” Hadrian declared.

“Oh, were you there?” Thranic asked. “Did you see it happen as we did? Funny, I didn’t notice your presence.”

“Royce left the camp with Bernie, not Staul,” Hadrian said.

Thranic laughed. “Is that the best you can come up with to save your friend from a noose? Why not say you saw Staul attack him unprovoked, or me, for that matter?”

“I saw Royce leave with Bernie too, and Thranic and Staul followed after them,” Wyatt put in.

“That’s a lie!” Bernie responded, convincingly offended. “I watched Royce leave with Staul. Thranic and I followed. I worked the topmast with Royce. I was there the night Edgar Drew died. Royce was the only one near him. They were having an argument. You all saw how agile he is. Drew never had a chance.”

“Why didn’t you report it to the captain?” Derning asked.

“I did,” Bernie declared. “But because I didn’t actually see him push poor Drew off, he refused to do anything.”

“How convenient that Captain Seward is too dead to ask about that,” Wyatt pointed out.

Thranic shook his head with a pitiful smile. “Now, Wesley, will you actually take the word of a pirate and a cook over the word of a sentinel of the Nyphron Church?”