Michael J. Sullivan - The Emerald Storm (The Riyria Revelations, Vol. 4)

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual persons, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

A Ridan Publication
www.ridanpublishing.com
ww.michaelsullivan-author.com
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Copyright 2010 by Michael J. Sullivan
Cover Art and Map by Michael J. Sullivan
Editing by Robin Sullivan, Paul Dunlap, David Gould, and Jericho McCune

ISBN: 978-0-9825145-3-5
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES
First Printing: April 2010

To Robin, for giving me a reason to write, wondering where the gold went, making Merrick smarter, and challenging me to make a good book better.

To Peter DeBrule for trying to cheer me up in 1989 with a proposed chain story about two guys that walk into a tavern.

And to the members of the fantasy blogging community for taking a chance on a new author from a small publisher and making me feel like Sally Fields at the Academy Awards.

Merrick Marius fitted a bolt into the small crossbow before slipping the weapon beneath the folds of his cloak. Smoke-thin clouds drifted across the sliver of moon leaving him and Central Square, shrouded in darkness. He searched the filthy streets lined with ramshackle buildings looking for movement but found none. At this hour, the city was deserted.

Ratibor may be a pit , he thought, but at least it is easy to work in.

Conditions had improved with the recent Nationalists victory. The imperial guards were gone, and with them went the regular patrols. The town lacked even an experienced sheriff as the new mayor refused to hire seasoned men or members of the military to administer so-called law and order. She opted instead to make do with grocery clerks, shoemakers, and dairy farmers. Merrick found her actions ill-advised but expected such mistakes from an inexperienced noble. Not that he was complaininghe appreciated the help.

Despite this shortcoming, he admired Arista Essendons accomplishments. In Melengar, her brother, King Alric, reigned and as an unwed princess she possessed no real power. Then she came here, masterminded a revolt, and the surviving peasants rewarded her with the keys to the city. She was a foreigner and a royal, yet they thanked her for taking rule over them. Brilliant . He could not have done better himself.

A slight smile formed at the edge of Merricks lips as he watched her from the street below her window. A candle still burned on the second floor of City Hall, even at this late hour. Her figure moved hazily behind the heavy curtains as she left her desk.

It will not be long now, he thought.

Merrick shifted his grip on the weapon. Only a foot-and-a-half long, with a bow span even shorter, it delivered none of the stopping power of a traditional crossbow. Still, it would be enough. His target wore no armor, and he was not relying on the force of the bolt. Venden pox coated the serrated metal tip. A deplorable poison for assassination; it neither killed quickly nor paralyzed the victim. The concoction would certainly kill, but only after what he considered an unprofessional span of time. He had never used it before and only recently learned of its most important traitvenden pox was invulnerable to magic. Merrick had it on good authority that the most powerful spells and incantations were useless against its venom. Given his target, this would prove essential.

Another figure entered Aristas room, and she sat abruptly. Merrick imagined she had just received some interesting news, and he was about to cross the street to listen at the window when the tavern door opened behind him. A pair of patrons exited, and by the sway of their steps and the volume of their voices they had obviously drained more than one mug that night.

Nestor, whos that leaning against the post? one said, pointing in Merricks direction. A plump man with a strawberry nose whose shape matched its color squinted in the dim light and staggered forward.

How should I know? said the other. The thin mans mustache still glistened with beer foam.

Whats he doing here at this time a night?

Again, how should I know, you wanker ?

Well, ask him.

The tall man stepped forward. Whatcha doin, mister? Holding up the post so the porch doesnt fall down? Nestor snorted a laugh and doubled over with his hands on his knees.

Actually, Merrick told them, his tone so serious it was almost grave, Im waiting to appoint the position of Town Fool to the person who asks me the stupidest question. Congratulations. You win.

The thin man slapped his friend on the shoulder. See, Ive been telling you all night how funny I am, and you havent laughed once. Now Im getting a new jobprobably pays better than yours.

Oh, yeah, youre quite the entertainer, his friend assured him as they staggered off into the night. You should audition at the theater. Theyre gonna be doing The Crown Conspiracy for the mayor. The day I see you on a stage, now that will be funny.