The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  Mistress Alloway nodded. “You’re right about that. That one has the attention span of a cat.”

  Tears filled Kaelene’s eyes. “He’s not going to like this. Shandar isn’t going to like this.”

  Mistress Alloway placed her hand over Kaelene’s. “He did the deed. He knows the results same as the rest of us. It’s as much his problem as it is yours.”

  Kaelene rested her free hand on her belly. Her baby wasn’t a problem, could never be a problem. She just had to make Talar understand this.

  “You have to tell him tonight.”

  Kaelene nodded. “Tonight,” she repeated.

  Mistress Alloway released her and pointed to the stairs. “Now, go rest while I prepare the meal. You need your strength, little mother.”

  Kaelene forced a watery smile and rose to her feet, turning to the stairs. Taking a nap suddenly sounded like the best idea she’d heard all day.

  * * *

  She didn’t tell him that night. She couldn’t. Shandar never left them alone, and the entire time he was there, he glowered at her as if he thought she would combust if he wished it hard enough. She knew Shandar didn’t approve of their relationship. She’d overheard them talking a number of times about complications and she was definitely a complication now.

  Lying beside Talar in the night, she thought to wake him and tell him then, but sleep pulled her under. She didn’t wake again until he was already up and dressed, prepared to go to the hospital. Groggily, she heard the door quietly open and she flung back the covers, racing after him as he descended the stairs.

  “Talar?”

  He turned in the entryway and waited for her. She stopped in front of him, wringing her hands in her nightdress. A wave of nausea passed over her, but she fought it down.

  He smiled. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. The soldiers didn’t even come near the hospital all day. I have scouts keeping an eye on their movements.”

  She moved closer to him, reaching out to smooth his shirt. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Sure.” He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer. “What do you want to talk about?” He bent and nuzzled her neck.

  She held him off. She needed him focused. “Talar, I think…”

  Behind him, the front door opened and Shandar poked his head inside. “Let’s go if we’re going. I don’t want to babysit your ass all day. I have errands I want to run.”

  Talar gave her an apologetic smile and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back early and we can talk then.”

  She chewed on her inner lip, but she let him go. He’d just made it to the front porch when she chased after him. “Talar?” she caught his arm and he turned. “Please be careful!”

  He nodded and stepped up to her, bending to kiss her. His kiss made longing rise inside of her and she curled her hands in the lapels on his jacket. She wanted him and she wanted their baby, and she wanted a life like the Humans she saw all around her. She wanted it with him.

  “I’ll be home soon,” he said, then disengaged from her and jogged to catch up to Shandar on the street. Kaelene let him go, feeling a rising sense of dread that it would be the last time she saw him. Nausea forced her to turn and rush back in the house before she retched and embarrassed herself.

  Mistress Alloway brought her soda crackers and she ate them with an herbal tea the other woman told her had helped when she herself had morning sickness. As soon as it abated, Kaelene began spooning her cooled jam into the glass jars she would use to sell in the market. Mistress Alloway left her to the chore and went to clean rooms.

  Kaelene worried over the situation with Talar the entire time she worked. He’d been very clear with her. He intended to stay in Kazden until the season ended, then they wanted to head west and winter in Raimondi perhaps. He hadn’t asked her to go, but would he once she told him her news?

  A banging sounded at the front door, but Kaelene ignored it. People always came to the door, looking for lodging. Mistress Alloway or her husband would handle it. She capped one jar and reached for the next one.

  Maybe they could get a house in Raimondi, something of their own. Talar never seemed to lack for money, and she could plant a garden, continue selling her vegetables and jams. Of course, he’d probably insist on Shandar coming with them, but she’d just learn how to get along with the man, find a way to make him approve of her. Maybe if they got married like the Humans did, that would change Shandar’s feelings about her.

  She heard shouting in the lobby, Mistress Alloway’s voice raised in alarm and another male voice barking orders in Nevaisser. Talar had begun teaching her Nevaisser, but she only knew a little of it. She wiped her hands on her apron, moving toward the backdoor. Sometimes people got belligerent, demanding lodging when they had none. Usually these people were drunk. Mister Alloway could handle them. He was nearly as big as Shandar. Then she remembered he’d gone to town.

  Before she could get to the door, Mistress Alloway stumbled into the kitchen, followed by five Sarkisian soldiers. Kaelene recognized the uniforms, the way they entered the room as if they owned it. She felt her heart pick up speed and she went to Mistress Alloway.

  The woman clung to her, pulling her close. “They want Talar,” she whispered in Kaelene’s ear.

  Kaelene felt her mouth go dry and her heart hammered in her ears.

  One of the soldiers, a man with braids over his shoulder, faced them and glared at Kaelene. He pointed at her and then barked a stream of words at her. Kaelene shook her head. He shoved Mistress Alloway in the shoulder, motioning that she should translate.

  “He says they’ve watched you and know you associate with Eldralin,” said the woman, her hands tightening on Kaelene’s arms. “Don’t tell them you carry his child.”

  The soldier barked some more, pulling out a document and shoving it at Mistress Alloway. The woman took it in hands that trembled and tried to read it. The soldier barked some more.

  “He says he’s Commander Deck Prestar of the Sarkisian Front Guard and he’s here on order of the King of Sarkisian, Rarick. Lord Rarick demands the immediate surrender of the fugitive known as Talar Eldralin.”

  Kaelene looked up at him.

  He shouted at her as the other four soldiers fanned out in the kitchen.

  “How do they have the right to search for Talar in Adishian? Doesn’t the King of Adishian have to give them permission?”

  Mistress Alloway gave her a look as she folded the paper and passed it back to the commander. “You don’t want me to say that to them, do you?”

  Kaelene didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t give Talar up. “You don’t want me to tell them where he is, do you?”

  Mistress Alloway started to shake her head, but the commander snatched a meat tenderizer off the counter and threw it through the glass window, shattering it. Kaelene and Mistress Alloway ducked, clinging to each other.

  He moved right up to them and shouted in their faces, a muscle bulging in his jaw. Kaelene could feel Mistress Alloway shaking and realized she was shaking too.

  “He says he doesn’t want to hurt us, but he has no choice.”

  The commander sank his hand in Mistress Alloway’s hair and pulled back her head. The woman gave a cry and closed her eyes. Dragging her against him, he reached for a knife on the counter. Kaelene watched in horror as he placed the blade against the other woman’s throat.

  Mistress Alloway’s eyes opened and her terrified gaze found Kaelene’s. Kaelene reacted, she didn’t think. She had to save the other woman’s life.

  “Stop! I Talar Eldralin’s woman!” she cried in broken Nevaisser. “I his woman.”

  The commander’s eyes narrowed and he threw Mistress Alloway to the side. As she stumbled into the counter, Kaelene met the other woman’s frantic gaze.

  “What are you doing?” Mistress Alloway whispered.

  Kaelene’s gaze never wavered. “Run!” she said.

  Mistress Alloway hesitated a moment, then she bolted, racing for the front door. T
he soldiers didn’t even bother to go after her.

  Kaelene tightened her hands in her apron and lifted her chin. Whatever happened now, she wasn’t going to let these dogs see her cower.

  CHAPTER 7

  Adison lounged on the throne in the hearing room, one thigh hanging over the arm. He stared at the glass of ale twirling in his fingertips, well pleased with himself. Could anything have gone so easy?

  He was now King of Dorland. Of course it was only in name until Aiden’s body was returned to them, but Adison had no doubt of that eventuality. For seven years he’d wanted the throne. It should have been his as first born, but Aiden had stepped between him and his dreams, and he’d done a poor job. It was better for all parties involved now that Aiden was gone.

  He lifted the glass to his lips and sipped. He didn’t want to get besotted before the noon hour. That tiresome Lyell Vito could always tell and then he made things difficult.

  Except for Lyell Vito’s disapproval, things were going well. Aiden had been gone less than a week, yet in that time, Adison had put the kingdom and the household to rights. There were so few people coming to court for hearings that he was usually finished before ten in the morning, and the servants tiptoed around as if they feared for their lives – which they were wise to do so. Aiden had been too lenient with them.

  Now if he could work his way into the Queen’s bed and pull Alasdair from the library, everything would be perfect. Then of course there was Vito. If he didn’t know the workings of Dorland better than anyone else and if he wasn’t so infernally necessary, Adison would have eliminated that problem even before Aiden’s disappearance.

  He chuckled to himself and sipped from the glass again. The thought of Aiden in slavery was almost more than he could comprehend. His free-spirited brother forced to endure the greatest hardship a person could. Was there ever a bigger irony – a bred King turned slave? Aiden who thought his kingship too confining; Aiden who had roamed at will throughout Nevaisser; Aiden who had snuck from the castle to ride his bedamned horse without an escort.

  The thought made Adison laugh outright. Aiden was now a slave, most likely so broken and dispirited that he’d welcome death when it came.

  The laughter died in his throat when the hearing chamber door opened and Carona appeared. Aiden’s pathetic, invalid wife was striding across the floor as if the hounds of hell backed her. Adison lowered his leg and slid forward in the chair, his fingers tightening around his glass. What did this shrew want of him?

  Adison hadn’t expected to be welcomed into her bed. Hell, even his slave brother had a time bedding his own wife, but he’d never expected her to leave the sanctuary of her room and storm into his domain.

  His face waxed over with a false smile.

  “Carona my Queen, Eldon’s Star, what has brought you from your bed?”

  She halted before his throne, fixing her clenched fists on her hips. The look she gave him sent a flutter of fear through Adison’s heart. Betraying his brother had been one thing, easily done, but should he be forced to remove the shrew...someone was bound to question the coincidence.

  Her eyes narrowed as she eyed him from head to toe. She wore a heavy gold brocade gown with a long train, her fair hair pulled up around her pale face in a profusion of curls. She was pretty, especially as a flush of anger tinged her cheeks. Too thin and fragile for his tastes, but pretty none-the-less. Should he manage to pry his way between her tightly clenched thighs, the effort might not be completely wasted.

  “I demand to know what’s being done to recover my lord husband,” she demanded.

  Adison sat back in shock. It was a genuine reaction. “I’m surprised by your concern, my Queen,” he said, recovering himself.

  Her eyes blazed with fury. “You are a small, vile man, Adison Cerik, and I loathe to see you sitting on the throne of Dorland. You aren’t worthy to grace the throne of a toilet.”

  He blinked in astonishment, then glared at his retainers when a few errant chuckles escaped. “Don’t raise your voice to me, my Queen,” he said dangerously.

  She tossed back her head and rolled her eyes. “You may have everyone else cowed, but there is nothing you can do to me and well I know it.”

  Adison rose abruptly to his feet, but sank down again when he saw Lyell Vito slip through the hearing chamber doors. He drew a long suffering breath and frowned at the woman before him. “What do you want of me, Carona?”

  “I demand to know what’s being done to recover my husband.”

  “Everything Humanly possible…”

  “Then go farther. Aiden had dealings with the Stravad, particularly the Nazarien in Tirsbor. Send a delegate to them for help. Have you sent to the King of Eastern Nevaisser? Terra Antiguo? Chernow?”

  Again Adison was surprised. He’d never imagined the Queen paid even passing interest in the affairs of the kingdom. No, he’d not sent to any of the other kingdoms regarding Aiden, but he now realized his mistake. He’d have to do so at once just to be careful. It was then Lyell Vito approached.

  “My lady,” he said, inclining his head. She turned to face the First Advisor. “I have sent messages to each location you mentioned. I fear nothing has been seen of the King. It’s as if he vanished.” The pain in the older man’s voice was palpable.

  Adison glanced covertly around the room to check the impact of this information. There was some alarm, but on the whole it was received well. Perhaps they were getting used to Adison as King. He was certainly running things more smoothly than his bedamned brother ever had.

  “More than anyone, I want my brother returned to us safely, my Queen,” he said, mustering up a look of suffering.

  Carona’s gaze pierced him. “You don’t convince me, serpent,” she hissed. “I know you had something to do with Aiden’s disappearance and if I can ever prove it, I will set the noose about your throat myself.”

  Now Adison did come out of his chair, his hands clenching into enraged fists. “Don’t threaten me, shrew!” he shouted, expecting her to cower, but she didn’t. He searched for a more lethal weapon. “You’re the one I question. It’s well known you disliked my brother, that you were never a wife to him. The poor bastard was so besotted that he never took you to task as he should have and look what it got him. Oh, my Queen, I’ve no doubt that you were the one to dispose of my brother, safe in the knowledge that no one would suspect an invalid of such malice, but you just tipped your hand by storming in here, throwing accusations. It’s obvious that you’re neither an invalid nor are you at all remorseful for your deed!”

  Her eyes widened in astonishment, but damn her, she didn’t flinch, she didn’t cower, she merely looked at him as if he were ridiculous. A spasm of hysterical laughter threatened in Adison’s throat, but he choked it back. Glancing around, he knew his claim hadn’t had the effect he’d expected. Not a single retainer showed even the slightest indication they suspected the Queen of such a deed.

  “Be gone,” he said with a negligent wave of his hand.

  Instead of fleeing, Carona dared to step closer. “Heed my words, serpent, your actions in this will be discovered and you will pay. You’d just better hope that things go amiss and Aiden returns alive, for I give nothing for your chances when the truth is revealed.”

  Before he could think of a fitting retort, she turned on her heel, flipped her train behind her, and stormed from the hearing chamber. Vito hesitated a moment and studied Adison carefully, then he too retreated.

  Adison took a seat again, disgusted to find his hands trembling. True, the shrew’s threats had unsettled him a little, but she had no proof of any misdeed. Perhaps he’d have to force her to bed him, then she’d be too ashamed to say anything against him again. If only he could accomplish the deed without Vito or her servants being aware of it. Should it become public knowledge that he’d forced his missing brother’s wife, he didn’t think the public would be too happy about it, but if he could make it seem that she was willing…

  He stroked the coarse stubb
le on his chin. There were ways to get everything you wanted, you simply had to have the courage to take them.

  * * *

  Adison stormed into the library, thrusting the door back so violently it struck the wall and shuddered. His eyes swept the room, took in the rows of shelves, the multitude of books, Alasdair’s table covered with so much paper the table was no longer visible. He clenched his fists in annoyance. He hated books, had never bothered to learn how to read. Now he recognized his mistake.

  Most of his advisors could read. When messages came to court, he had to rely on someone else to tell him what they said. It made keeping things private difficult. How shrewd of Aiden to realize the necessity of this chore. Adison was sure his slave brother cared precious little about the pleasures of reading, but he knew Aiden had quickly sensed the need.

  “Alasdair!” he shouted and then shrank back when his voice echoed across the vaulted ceiling. Dusty, tight place – it made the skin at the back of his neck crawl.

  He strode forward, his fists still clenched. Cautiously he peered down one row, then the next, searching for his addle-minded younger brother. A book with handsome gold lettering on the binding caught his eye. He pulled it down and opened the creaking cover.

  It smelled old and stale, and the papers rustled when he turned them. The yellowed, curling edges reminded him of age and death – all the things foolish people couched in terms of wisdom and worth. Give him the cold, gleaming edge of a sword anytime. Now there was an instrument worth its weight. He hefted the large book in his hands. Unpleasant as it was, this bit of dusty, aged paper had more value at the moment than the comfort and familiarity of steel.

  The silence in the library was daunting. It made him want to shout, laugh hysterically, anything to fill the emptiness which sent his mind to spinning wildly. He didn’t want to think any more than necessary, he didn’t want to be alone, but he needed his younger brother. Why, now of all times, did he have to leave this wretched, poor excuse for a sanctuary?