by Liam Reese
“Come home with us,” Collise said. “See what Vetrulian and I have done in Waraval.”
“I might just do that,” Khaleen said, smiling.
Queen Collise nodded, turning back towards her husband as Khaleen searched for the man she had come to see. Her eyes found Slevward at the back of the hospital, talking to one of the injured soldiers he had been treating.
“You’re perfectly able to look after yourself,” Slevward was telling the man. “So long as you keep the wound clean and covered, there’s no need for you to be under my feet any longer, so up and out, man!”
Khaleen smiled at his rude bedside manner as the Waravalian soldier limped past her and out of the hospital tent.
“General Khaleen,” Slevward said. “Glad you dropped by.”
“Really?” Khaleen asked, her heart beating fast. “Why?”
“You left this behind,” he said, holding out the box that housed the arrowhead.
“Oh,” Khaleen muttered, taking the box.
“How’s the leg?” he asked as he checked the dressing on another patient.
“Better,” she said. “Thank you, again.”
Slevward looked up, captivating her with his dark blue eyes, when he heard her tone. “What plans have you now?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “Queen Collise suggested I visit her in the capital, so I may take her up on the offer.”
“A good idea,” the doctor agreed. “Might I catch up with you there, possibly show you around?”
Khaleen smiled at him. “That would be nice,” she said.
Besmir rolled over and leaned up on his elbow watching his wife sleep. Although her arm was still heavily bandaged and strapped in place as it healed, she looked peaceful in her slumber. Her mouth curled in a smile and she spoke without moving her lips.
“I know you’re watching me,” she said.
“I’m wondering if this is real,” he said.
Arteera rolled on her side, facing him. She reached out and ran her good hand down his cheek and rested it on his throat. “It’s real, love,” she said. “I’m real.”
Besmir gathered her gently in his arms and buried his face in her hair, thinking back to the day he had been in the old palace.
Merdon had knocked him to the trembling, shaking floor, covering him with his own body as the building crumbled around them. Besmir had watched his daughter disappear in a shower of stones and falling masonry.
Eventually the rumbling had stopped, followed only by the sound of hissing as dust and sand shifted around. Clouds of dust had made both he and Merdon cough until they hid their faces inside their clothing.
“Are you alright?” Merdon asked, on all fours above him.
Besmir had felt a sharp pain in his left ankle and looked to see it was trapped beneath a huge chunk of sandstone. It felt as if someone had lit a small fire in his side, too, and Besmir winced when his fingers crept over the stone sword tip that had pierced him.
“I think so,” he had said. “You?”
Merdon nodded his head, looking around. With a great heave, Besmir’s grandson sat up, throwing huge chunks of masonry from his back. Besmir realized the young man had saved his life yet again, and felt a hot rush of love for the lad.
Merdon grabbed a length of wood and jammed it beneath the boulder trapping Besmir’s ankle, levering it up so he could pull it out.
From there they had hobbled, arm in arm, out of the ruined palace, crossing to where Arteera had been waiting with Joranas and Lyeeta.
“Thoughts?” Arteera asked, pulling Besmir back into the present.
The king had been thinking about the speech he was about to give today. Although they had not been able to find her body, today was Emmerlin’s funeral, and he had been struggling with what to say. Many people knew of the things she had done, yet not the part the Gods had played in the whole affair, and he had been troubled as to whether to reveal it or not.
“Wondering where we should go once Joranas is crowned,” he said.
“I thought you wanted to go back to the land you grew up in,” she said, rolling from their bed.
“I want to go back there,” he said. “I was just considering where we would go after that, you know, to live out our days?”
“It’s going to be here,” Arteera said. “With family and friends close, and you know it.”
Besmir smiled, knowing she was right.
Khaleen stood in the large pavilion alongside the Waravalian king and queen and several of the army’s leading officers. Her eyes fell on the silver-haired leader of the mercenaries, bound and kneeling in the center of them. Even close up, she had no recognition of the man.
“Who are you?” Vetrulian asked him.
“Mallon,” he spat, his hate-filled eyes rolling up to meet Vetrulian’s. “Yours?” Mallon asked with a sneer.
“Why were you involved in delivering Pariah into Gazluth?” Vetrulian asked.
“Profit,” Mallon replied shortly.
Vetrulian looked around the tent, meeting the eyes of his advisers and staff, including Khaleen.
“And the Gazluthian king?” Vetrulian pressed.
“What of him?” the kneeling man asked.
“Why was he targeted?”
“You both were,” Mallon said. “You and him both. You managed to dodge it somehow.”
“Why?” Vetrulian asked.
“I was at Ursley!” Mallon screamed. “I was there when our forces were decimated. My brothers killed by Besmir and his army!”
Things fell into place in Khaleen’s mind then. Mallon had lost everything he had at the Battle of Ursley mine, and held a grudge for the last twenty years, biding his time until the drug Pariah had presented itself.
“So what have you got against me?” Vetrulian asked.
“Your brother promised us riches beyond compare!” Mallon screamed at the Waravalian king. “But we ended up with nothing! Nothing!”
“I’ve heard enough,” Vetrulian said. “Get him out of my sight.”
Mallon screamed wordlessly as he was dragged away, cursing Besmir and Vetrulian as well as the Corbondrasi.
“What will you do to him?” Khaleen asked Vetrulian when the noise had died down.
“Let me worry about that, Khaleen,” Vetrulian said.
“Lyeeta,” Merdon said.
She turned, looking radiant in a white dress, with her hair braided, and smiled up at him.
“Your Highness” She executed a graceful curtsy. “How may I serve?”
“So many ways,” he said, thrilling when she reddened. “You may begin by accompanying me to the ball this evening, if you would do me the honor?”
“Of course,” she said, obviously happy he had asked.
“I received word from Keris,” he said.
“Tell me everything!” Lyeeta chirped happily.
“Neira has a brother now,” he said. “And she’s started to speak. Apparently, one of her first words was Teghime,” he added.
Lyeeta grinned at the thought of the girl they had rescued. “What’s Keris going to call her baby?” she asked as he took her arm, walking her through the new palace.
“Something dull,” he replied, pretending to think. “Merdon, I think it was,” he added with a growing smile.
End of Book – Please Read This
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Raising Evil
(Huntsman’s Fate: Book 4)
Liam Reese
/> © 2018
Disclaimer
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events are all fictitious for the reader’s pleasure. Any similarities to real people, places, events, living or dead are all coincidental.
