Blood Runner: Book Three of the Empress Saga

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

The rasp of a whetstone down the length of a full blade was the only sound. The campfire burned, the army performed the final tasks of the day, and supply transports put into shore for the night. The nearby village had lanterns in the crowded tavern and gaslights on the busy street corners. People ate, drank, laughed, boasted, and argued all around. Ban heard nothing but the whetstone.

He sat on a birch stump near the outside of camp, the full blade's tip in the dirt and the flat braced against his shoulder. Ban used steady and even strokes of the whetstone to sharpen his sword. Out of armor and out of uniform, Ban wore trousers and a cotton shirt in the warm night. It was too floundering warm in the north. Not a single decent snowdrift to be seen.

A burr of metal snagged on the whetstone. Ban grit his teeth as he ground it back down to a fine edge. His sword was a honed blade, forged by the best smiths the Salt Stone Palace had to offer, but no weapon in the Five Kingdoms could go through battle without taking some wear. Maintaining a blade allowed it to last, gave it life beyond a single use, but even a sword of legend could only take so much punishment before it could take no more. The flaws deepened with every blow, the edge grew thinner with each sharpening, until a masterwork of steel became as fragile as glass. Swords died just as surely as men did.

This full blade had served Ban well for a long time, but he could tell it was nearing the end of its service. With this weapon in hand, he'd slaughtered countless goblins in the Protectorate. He turned it against Altieri knights and inquisitors. Ban had wielded it in his victory over Knight-General Kastus Valdar, then against his brother. He'd even used it to strike Kimpo out of the sky. A long time, it had served him. Ban maintained the full blade to give it enough life for one more battle.

Its last.

Ban didn't know how he knew, but he knew it for certain. This sword wouldn't survive what he asked it to do for him next.

"We have to kill our Huntress."

The words echoed in his ears and refused to fade. He couldn't close his eyes, or he'd see visions of his blades ripping through Kimpo's wings. Her blood on his sword. Ban had never given an oracle through his elder magic, but he knew what lay in his future. His full blade would be stained with Kimpo's blood again.

Ban promised himself that he would be the one to do it. He couldn't ask that of Deebee. Not only would she be of better use protecting Enfri, but Ban couldn't expect her to kill her own mate. He wouldn't do that to her. As Kimpo's former Ruby Knight, this was Ban's burden to bear.

"How much longer do you plan to keep us here?"

He felt his lip curl at the sound of Josy's voice. She'd stepped out of the tent he told them to wait in until word came from Jin.

Ban kept his back to her and said nothing.

"It's been hours. If you won't take us to Jin, we can..."

"You can wait," Ban growled.

Josy clucked her tongue and approached the fire. "I understand why you won't let us just walk around. Winds, but I'm honestly surprised you're letting us keep our weapons."

"You and I both know swords are the least of your weapons."

Josy crouched on her heels on the other side of the fire. "True enough. So, why no seals on our ether? Why no chains?"

Ban narrowed his eyes. "You're saying you'd let me if I tried to?"

"We're not here for a fight. We're here to talk to Jin."