Amaskan's Blood, Raven Oak [read me a book .TXT] 📗

of her drink, her fingers subconsciously rubbing her throat.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what’s the story behind that old wound?”

The veteran’s eyes grew moist, something contrary to her rugged exterior. “How much do ya know about the Little War of Three, youngin’?”

“Just the basics. The Kingdom of Shad wished to renegotiate borders with Alexander. King Leon of Alexander refused, and Shad set out to engulf the land and claim it by force. The war lasted three years, nearly destroying both countries in the process, until the Boahim Senate forced a peace treaty upon both lands. At the cost of Princess Margaret’s hand in marriage, I assume.”

The last sentence left a sour taste in Adelei’s mouth. Any father who’d sell out his daughter like that deserved to be king of nothing. At least Master Bredych was honest in his killing. My father—she frowned at the words—kills through treaties, slavery, and human sales.

Ida laughed again and slapped a hand on the wooden table. “Good. I’m glad ya know what you’re getting into then. Playin' this body double’s going to be tricky work.”

Adelei stared at the woman. The soldiers would be told she was heading for the capital. It was a matter of security for them to know, and all in all, not a huge surprise. But to know the details of the job was different.

She stood, her feet halfway to the door before she registered the bulk of Ida’s square shoulders blocking her path. Not many people could move with the speed and silence of an Amaskan. That Ida had done just that and had done so without Adelei’s knowledge was not only impressive, it was dangerous. “Let me pass,” Adelei hissed.

“I can’t do that. We need to talk.” Ida braced her arms against the door frame’s sides.

She’s expecting a fight and rightfully so after this little incident. How could the Order send me into such a trap? She charged—not at the woman but the window, hoping to escape the building without harming anyone.

As she reached the window, something hit Adelei in the back of the head. Before she blacked out, Ida faintly mumbled, “Damn, didn’t mean to hit ya that hard.”

The dirt floor confused her, though the room itself reminded Adelei of her old room at the Order. Touching her head with shaking fingers left her muttering curses as her hand came away from the knot bloody. She winced and flexed her muscles slowly. Nothing else hurt, nothing else complained.

“Gonna kill whoever did this,” she muttered, and a chuckle reached her. She leapt to her feet, and the world tilted in a blend of color. Sharp pain in her skull sent her back to the bed.

“You’re not the first one to wish me dead, though I do wish you’d waited for me to finish what I’d been sayin’ before trying to bolt. I’m sorry I hit ya so hard, but ya left me little choice.”

Now I remember. The warrior woman. I’m in Brieghton. Adelei leaned her head gently against the pillow behind her, but the contact sent dizzying waves through her.

“You could’ve let me go. What gives you the right to hold me?” Adelei snarled. This job’s getting off to a great start.

Ida approached—she didn’t tiptoe or mince her steps, which would have raised suspicion. Her boots tromped along the dirt floor with a slight scuffle. Adelei opened a bleary eye to glare at the woman. Her vision swam, and she blinked several times in the dim light.

“Relax, child. If I’d wanted ya dead, I would’ve killed ya while ya were out.” The woman pulled up a chair and fumbled with several items on the table beside the bed. The “torture instruments” Ida held weren’t the expected but instead were crushed herbs floating in bowl of water and a rag.

The warrior’s hands weren’t gentle as she cleaned the knot on Adelei’s head; jagged fingernails occasionally scraped across her scalp, and the herbs stung. She sent a brief prayer to Sharmus, God of healing. Whether it was the herbs or Sharmus himself, the pain subsided from a rampaging bear to a dull throb in a few minutes.

“Now,” said Ida as she wrapped Adelei’s head in a worn cloth, “Before we had the hammer to the head, I was sayin’ that I’m here to escort ya to the King. My job’s to fill ya in on the details as we travel, provided ya don’t flee to the hills.”

Ida didn’t have to give the look, though she did, and a flush crept across Adelei’s face, warming her cheeks and neck. Not only had she allowed herself to be trapped, but she hadn’t gotten the lay of the land before tumbling into said trap. Master Bredych would have had her hide if he had known.

She composed a mask of neutrality and merely shrugged. “You could’ve said as much when you introduced yourself rather than baiting me and leaving me to think I was being cowed into a corner. Hard to break the habits of… mine. You’re lucky you survived the attempt.”

“If I’d have known you’d be so easily trapped, I wouldn’t’ve bothered. I was, after all, expectin’ an Amaskan, and not some green trainee.”

Ida rinsed the rag in the basin, her back to Adelei. She couldn’t tell if it was bravery, stupidity, or just the knowledge that she wasn’t a threat. Dammit. It was the crux of it. She was no threat to anyone. She wasn’t even Amaskan. The warrior left the room, and the sound of running water reached Adelei’s ears. She was like a female version of Master Bredych with a harsher bark.

Ida reappeared in the doorway with a pitcher of ale and two glasses, one of which she offered to Adelei.

“I’m not,” said Adelei.

“Not what?”

“Amaskan. Not anymore.”

“So ya said before.” Ida’s finger touched the healing scar at Adelei’s jaw. “Good, clean cut.”

The Captain nodded at the cup in Adelei’s hands, and Adelei swallowed the watered down liquid in several long draws. The second glass went down slower, and her