The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes (67 page)

“Nathan?” Jala asked, the memory of the man
beating Madren rising at the mention of his name.

“No, Truce. The eldest son. He is married to
my daughter. You may remember him from your wedding. He isn’t like
the rest of them, Jala. He has a kind heart as Dashara did,”
Sovaesh explained quickly.

Jala frowned and moved around the table to
sit in her own chair once more, balancing Legacy carefully on one
leg. “I remember him. I remember him from his father’s visit to my
lands as well,” she said slowly. Shaking her head she sighed. “I
won’t promise you I will spare him, Sovaesh. I will give my word
that I will offer him terms though. That is more than I had
intended to do when I reached the city.”

“Then I will be grateful that you are willing
to do that much,” Sovaesh said bowing his head to her. His gaze
moved to the Bendazzi as he slowly slid his hand into his coat
pocket and pulled a folded piece of paper from it. He held it up
for Jala and the two cats to see before setting it down on the
table and sliding it toward her. “That is a map of the city and an
accurate accounting of its defenses,” Sovaesh explained as he
lowered his hands to his lap once more.

Jala reached across the table with one hand
and unfolded the map, glancing down at the writing before looking
back up at him. “How do I know this isn’t a trap?” she asked
cautiously.

“Because I hate the High Lord of Avanti as
much as you do, Jala. The bastard killed my son. I give you the
information freely in return for your mercy to Truce. The decision
on whether or not to use the information is solely yours.
Regardless of what you decide, I will kill Donrey Avanti the moment
I see your army at the gates,” Sovaesh said, his gaze dropping to
the Bendazzi once more. “With your permission, I would go. I have
been away from the city too long as it is.”

Jala nodded slowly and motioned for the
Bendazzi to back down. “Your other son is in my camp, you know,”
she said as she watched him rise from the chair.

“And has less desire to see me than you did,
I assure you. Sovann despises me for my work and I respect that and
keep my distance,” Sovaesh said with a note of sadness in his
voice. Bowing to her once more he pulled his mask up and then
paused at the tent door. “For future reference, when dealing with
my ilk, Lady Merrodin, there are contact poisons that can be placed
on paper that will soak through your skin and kill you within
minutes. Gloves will protect you from such poisons,” Sovaesh said
before stepping out into the night.

Jala dropped the map she had been holding and
let out a sigh. If the paper had been poisoned she would likely
already be dead. Just to be on the safe side however she cast a
quick healing spell to cleanse her body of toxins. She had already
been poisoned once this month. She had no desire to make it
twice.

Avanti

“What do you mean you had to piss?” Donrey
Avanti’s voice rose to nearly a scream as he spoke. The vein in his
forehead was throbbing and Truce knew his father well enough to
know that someone would die today.

“It was like that for everyone, Milord. Even
the bloody horses, Sir. Then the dragon fell and she used
necromancy to turn it against us.” The man stammered. He had been
one of the few survivors from the first engagement with Jala
Merrodin and had already made the report to his superiors, of
course.

“She attacked during a parlay, father,”
Cassia added, her voice almost a whine.

Truce leaned farther back in his chair,
watching, and let out a long silent sigh. His sister shouldn’t have
been anywhere near the encampment, but she had insisted on seeing
the Merrodin defeat. If not for Sovaesh, Cassia would still be a
prisoner in Jala Merrodin’s camp. The Assassin had returned her
safely the night before and Cassia had been whining non-stop since
then.

“Are you suggesting to me that Lady Merrodin
used magic to make you have to piss?” the High Lord asked in a low
voice, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

There was a faint snort of laughter toward
the back of the room and Truce glanced back at Sovaesh who was
bowing his head and obviously losing his fight to remain
silent.

“Do you find it funny that we are losing a
war against a girl and her rabble of an army, Sovaesh?” Donrey
snarled, his eyes rising from the wounded soldier to settle on
Sovaesh.

“No, Milord. I find the reason they lost the
battle amusing,” Sovaesh returned, his voice holding far too much
amusement for the mood the High lord was currently in.

“I find nothing about this amusing,” Donrey
snarled and whirled on the second man sitting before his desk. “You
are one of my elites. You had support from mercenaries as well as
Blights and you still lost the bloody battle,” the High Lord
snarled, his face twisting in his anger.

“It was all but won, Milord. Then the dragon
attacked. Milord, there was nothing we could do about a dragon,”
the man explained. He was seasoned and steady in the face of the
lord’s fury, unlike his comrade in arms who sat fairly quivering in
his seat.

The mention of the dragon gave the High Lord
pause and his attention turned to the last man in the room. The
visitor was large by any standards, close to seven foot in height
if Truce was guessing correctly. He stood with his arms crossed
over his massive chest, a look of boredom on his face. Both his
swarthy skin and scarred leather armor made him seem more like a
backstreet thug than anyone Donrey Avanti might associate with.
Truce had been watching the man off and on throughout the meeting,
trying to determine exactly who he was and why he was here. Now it
seemed he would finally get his answers.

“What color was the dragon?” the large man
asked in a deep voice.

“Black with gold on the wings and neck, Sir,”
the soldier replied at once.

“Do you know this dragon, Lord Margundrak?”
Donrey asked, his voice slowly returning to a normal pitch.

Truce watched the stranger, his eyes roving
over the tattered leather vest and the thick rawhide bracers he
wore. The man certainly didn’t look like a Lord, but then his
father never used a title unless it was deserved.

“Nigel Rivasa. He is a half-breed. It will be
no difficulty dealing with him,” Margundrak said shrugging one
shoulder.

“I would highly appreciate your doing so
before this half-breed reaches my city. I was assured by High Lady
Wilameir that Nerathane was on our side. I find myself wondering
now, however. Is she playing both sides of the fence?” Donrey said,
his tone scathing.

“As I said, he is a half-breed, and a Rivana
half-breed at that. Nigel is a rebel. Surely Avanti, of all lands
would understand such things,” Margundrak replied coldly.

Truce leaned forward in his seat with
interest and stared at the two men. There weren’t many that would
dare speak that way with his father, but Margundrak didn’t seem
concerned with his father’s temper, and his father didn’t seem to
mind.

“Naturally. I can see by the fact that you
are here that your High Lady understands that Nerathane must take
responsibility for its own. You will kill this rebel?” Donrey said,
emphasizing the word rebel with a disgusted tone.

“Kill them all! She nearly killed me, daddy.
If not for that drunkard knight, I would be dead now,” Cassia
chimed in, her eyes going wide as she bounced forward in her chair.
“They killed Jexon, daddy! I was supposed to be his wife. I should
be a High Lady now and because of her he is dead!” Cassia added,
her voice rising enough to make Truce wince.

That was the first that Truce had heard of
Cassia being a High Lady and he turned to watch his sister as she
pouted at their father. His mother had always told him that you
loved your family despite their faults, because they were your
blood. As he sat in silence and watched his father and sister,
however, he realized how much he had failed to follow his mother’s
wisdom. His father was a tyrant and his sister was a spoiled brat.
Truce couldn’t even fathom how bad she would be as a High Lady. She
was already petty and demanding and she was simply a child of a
High House.

Donrey let out a long sigh and favored his
daughter with a faint smile. “I know pumpkin. I’m sorry Jexon fell.
I truly am. Merrodin would have been a country to be reckoned with
had you been its High Lady, rather than the peasant mud hole it
currently is.”

There was another snort of laughter from the
back of the room and Sovaesh walked toward the door, holding one
hand up in apology. “Forgive me, Lord. Just a moment to gain my
composure once more,” Sovaesh said in a voice choked with continued
mirth.

The High Lord watched Sovaesh leave with a
frown on his handsome face and then looked back to Margundrak. “If
you can manage to kill them all, Avanti would be grateful. I will
of course compensate you for your trouble,” he said and then smiled
down at Cassia.

Truce watched them silently, his mood
darkening with every word. There was so much he would love to say.
It was almost unbearable at times to be in the same room with them
and know if he spoke his mind, he would die. His sister had died
for speaking her mind and acting against what she saw as wrong. He
had never actually met Dashara. She had died long before he was
born, but his mother told him stories about her. The stories had
been warnings. Every story was a warning to him of the price of
honesty in House Avanti. With another silent sigh, Truce sank into
his chair once more and kept his mouth firmly closed. Dashara had
paid the cost for honesty, but he couldn’t afford to. He had a wife
and son waiting at home that depended on him too much for him to
throw it all away by speaking his mind.

“I will deal with the traitor. If there is
opportunity, I will deal with the rabble as well,” Margundrak said,
his voice still sounding bored. With one quick nod the man left the
parlor.

“Will just he be enough, Daddy? They killed
the lovely dragon that was with us, remember? Maybe you should send
more than one,” Cassia said in her irritating whine.

“Lord Margundrak is High Lady Willameir’s
executioner honey. He is well versed in killing dragons and the
dragon that fell in the first battle was young and apparently
unskilled in war. I’m sure there will be no problems,” Donrey
assured his daughter with another smile. Looking back up his eyes
fell on the two soldiers seated before his desk doing their best to
remain unnoticed. “Sovaesh.” The High Lord’s voice rose like a whip
as he spoke the name and the Assassin stepped back into the room at
once. “Take these two and kill them. I will not suffer cowards and
failures in my ranks.”

“Shall I take the girl too, Milord? She was
captured as well,” Sovaesh said, his tone flat with no trace of
humor. Sovaesh looked directly at Cassia and Truce had to fight
back a snort of laughter. Only Sovaesh would dare such a comment.
The man was too useful for his father to simply throw away, but
comments toward Cassia would be pushing even his luck.

“You impertinent bastard!” Cassia fairly
screeched, leaping from her chair to point at Sovaesh. “Daddy, he
threatened me!”

“I will forget you said that in light of the
fact that you returned Cassia safely to me. Do not test my patience
again, Sovaesh,” Donrey warned in a low voice.

“Of course, Milord,” Sovaesh said with a
quick nod, but Truce could see the creases at the corners of the
man’s eyes. The Assassin was smiling despite the warning. “Would
you walk or shall I drag you out?” Sovaesh asked the two men who
sat in stunned disbelief at their pending deaths.

“I’ll walk. I am no coward and there was no
avoiding failure in that situation,” the elite growled as he rose
proudly to his feet. The man dared a look of defiance at the High
Lord before turning stiffly for the door.

“And you?” Sovaesh asked the young man who
still sat staring at the desk with wide eyes. The Assassin waited
for a long moment before shrugging and grabbing the man by the back
of his coat. With a quick tug he dragged the man from his seat and
started toward the door. “Shall I spike the heads or simply dispose
of the bodies, Milord?” he asked as he reached the door.

“Display the bodies to warn the others,” the
High Lord said as he watched them leave.

“Desertion in the ranks will be up by
morning,” Sovaesh said quietly as he disappeared into the hall.

“Daddy, why do you put up with him? He is so
rude,” Cassia asked at the same time Truce was wishing he was more
like the Assassin. It would be nice to be too valuable to be killed
for speaking up. Unlike Sovaesh, however, Truce knew he held very
little value in his father’s eyes.

“I thought Avanti was all farmland,” Jala
said as they stopped at the top of a gentle rise and stared down at
the beginning of what looked to be a rather large sized forest.