Free Storm Surge by R. J. Blain Page B

for them. As the child of an Akakashani , he didn't dare let anything happen to the Mithrian. But how could he protect Delaven?
    Kalen wouldn't be happy.
    Mithrian Akakashani were rare enough that any risk to the one the Rift had would infuriate the Rift King. Breton still didn't understand how Kalen had done what no other Rift King had done—or when.
    “We know of each other,” Maiten said hesitantly.
    “Ma sends all of us away when he comes to visit. ‘Adult business,’ she says. Secret business.” The young Mithrian scowled. “Only time she doesn't let us listen.”
    Rubbing his temples, Breton considered whether or not it was in his better interest to inform Kalen of the development. “How many siblings do you have, Delaven?”
    “There are six of us, sir.”
    “Are you the eldest?”
    Delaven sat taller in the saddle. “Sure am, sir! I'm fourteen.”
    Facing Maiten, Breton counted the years; at fourteen, Maiten must have met Delaven's mother not long after Kalen had become the Rift King. But Maiten had been in the Rift with all of the Guardians, watching what sort of man the Rift King would become after slaying Arik.
    There had been no Mithrians within the Rift then that he knew of. With Delaven and Maiten so close together, he couldn't believe for an instant that his friend hadn't sired the colt—red was a rare color among Rifters and Mithrians. There were subtle similarities in their features, though Breton suspected Delaven favored his dam more than Maiten.
    “Maiten, Kalen's going to murder you when he finds out,” he warned.
    His friend covered his mouth, his shoulders shaking. With tears in his eyes, Maiten burst out into laughter.
    It took all of Breton’s will and several deep breaths to stop himself from dumping Maiten out of the saddle. “What exactly is so funny?”
    “The Rift King gave him as a gift to Ma,” Delaven said, grinning. “That's what she said.”
    Breton's mouth dropped open. “He what ?”
    “It was part of the terms for her becoming an Akakashani ,” Maiten mumbled, once again looking embarrassed. “His Majesty doesn't trust anyone with her—not even me most of the time. She only wants to speak with someone she knows. Since he can’t go, that leaves me. The few times she sends messages, it's through the Wanderers.”
    Groaning at all of the implications of Maiten's confession, Breton asked, “The Wanderers ? They pass messages? That's impossible. They're even more neutral than we are.”
    “His Majesty may have made a few forays into Land's End and negotiated an arrangement with them. I was there for the first of them. It was in their better interests. War is bad for them. It makes their lifestyle more dangerous than it already is. They're neutral until their livelihood is threatened. Then they'll side with the Rift.” Maiten shrugged helplessly. “Who is going to tell the Rift King they aren't willing to carry satchels to his face? They get paid, we get messages. And once a Wanderer gives his word, all of them pledge to it.”
    “Unbelievable. That sneaky little...” Shaking his head at Kalen's audacity, Breton wondered how long he had been left in the dark. “So that's what all of those trips out of Blind Mare Run were for?”
    Maiten nodded. “At least some of them. He'd order me to go on a trip, and I'd meet him a week or so up the trail. He knew you’d worry, so he didn't go alone. It worked well enough. Very few were willing to make runs at him when I was with him. Those who did I was more than content to send to the deeps the quick way.”
    “You broke the Code while helping him break the Covenant?” Pinching the bridge of his nose didn't help to ward off his growing headache. Breton sighed.
    “I spared His Majesty the trouble of doing it himself. Consider it a service to your foal. You should be pleased. Don't even try to tell me you wouldn't have done the same. It’s never been a problem because I made certain that I wasn’t caught doing it. Dead