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

taut muscles relaxed. “There, now that you’re more balanced, we can have a proper chat,” said the woman.

Adelei ground her teeth, and Ida’s barking laugh could have split her skull in two. Dammit, what’s wrong with me? It were as if every meditation she had ever learned had abandoned her, leaving a knot of tension and doubt in their place. She closed her eyes and pictured the blue sphere in her mind.

Smooth. No flaws. Like an empty vessel, it fills me. Instead of silence and calm, Ida’s continued laughter echoed in her ears, and Adelei shook her head.

A mistake. Pain from the wound lanced her slow breathing, and she gave up. “How do you know so much about the Order? You’re reading me too well, which points to good training. Better training than I like.”

Ida settled down in her chair and poured herself another glass. “It’s a long story, young one. Starts back durin’ the Little War of Three, when I’d just been promoted to captain of the royal guard. Back when I was much younger and a lot less wise.”

The word popped into Adelei’s head, and she blurted out, “What’s a sepier?”

“To put it bluntly, I’m a spy. I do odd tasks for the royal family—whatever’s needed of me.”

“Is the word Alexandrian?”

“No.”

Adelei bit the inside of her cheek. A spy, huh? Makes sense that my escort is in service to the King. She’s certainly old enough to have battled in the Little War of Three. But that doesn’t explain her knowledge of the Order. She could be a threat.

“Seein’s how your head’s probably throbbin’, I’ll give ya the condensed version if ya don’t mind.” When Adelei nodded, the warrior continued. “The King and his late wife had no male heir—just two twin girls. His Majesty sent them away to protect them, but it wasn’t enough. We were losin’ the war when news came of the Queen’s death. Assassins from Shad. Probably Tribor.”

The warrior brought two fingers to the top of her brow and closed her eyes for a minute. That’s a sign to ward off evil, to keep Itova at bay. Lots of people know it—but only those in Sadai who follow Anur’s chosen path. Ida’s hand caressed the hilt of her sword as an afterthought. Still, she was a warrior. Amaskans weren’t the only ones to follow that particular path. It warranted watching.

Despite the drink, Adelei’s parched tongue sat in too dry a mouth, and she swallowed hard as the woman continued. “The poor princess under her own mother’s body for three days, trapped under a rottin’ corpse.”

Ida shuddered and refilled both their glasses. “Even worse was the news that the other princess died tryin’ to reach safety. The king had no choice but to agree to the terms of the peace treaty if he wanted his survivin’ daughter to live.”

Adelei lifted her chin and said, “He sold her for a peace treaty.”

“Ya don’t understand. He’d only the one choice: his child’s hand in marriage or the death of the entire royal family. The death of them all. Right down to the serving staff. Our country would’ve died, leaving an empty shell full of corpses. What would ya have done?”

“I would have fought, and if I’d gone down fighting, at least I would have known it was a good death.”

“There’s no such thing as a good death.” Ida cast haunted eyes about the room.

With three years’ service, Adelei’s own ghosts haunted her. Ghosts she tried to ignore. At least she was serving justice, saving lives. The sharp bitterness spilled across her tongue, and the words tumbled out before she could capture them. “How convenient that his other daughter died. Left Princess Margaret quite the nice package—marriage to a prince, treaties with their sworn enemies. What more could one ask for?”

Ida’s mouth hung open. “Convenient? Is that what those bastards at the Order told ya? He mourned her. He mourns her still.” The warrior slammed her fist on the table beside the bed. The bowl and pitcher clattered together. “One could hardly call marriage to a sworn enemy a ‘nice package.’ Use your brain, child.”

“Fine, fine.” Adelei waved a hand in the captain’s direction. “We’ll save the philosophical debates for another day. Could you at least tell me where in the Thirteen Hells I am? I assume we’re still in Brieghton?”

“We’re in my guest quarters. I thought it best to bring ya here.”

Adelei’s head throbbed. What a job. She got to play bodyguard to a spoiled princess, probably without one thought between her ears. And her escort was convinced dear old “dad” had done the best he could. Like hell he did.

If she focused hard enough, she could almost remember him. The fuzzy face that appeared in odd dreams. But thinking on it brought the rest of the visions: herself on horseback, thrown over the saddle at times as the rain poured overhead; crashing thunder and the endless shivering in the cold; and several figures in black, one of which glared at her from beneath his hood. The faces faded over time, and their voices ran together like wine.

There was a woman. She remembered that. The itch reached out, and then it was gone.

“Ya look far away,” Ida whispered.

“I was… remembering the past. Being here, it’s odd. I’m not myself, and the pictures in my head clash together. Makes my head hurt.” Adelei shot Ida a hard smile. “Old dreams can haunt a person.”

“Dreams are but visions of truth and place holders of what our mind calls justice.”

Adelei held her breath a moment. “How do you know the Book of Ja’ahr?”

“Is that what it’s from? I’ve wondered.” Ida stood and gathered up the empty pitcher and bowl from the table. When she left the room, Adelei tried to sit up. The room no longer spun in wild circles, but her headache increased. Just as Adelei swung her feet over the edge of the bed, Ida returned.

“Just where do ya think you’re goin’?”

“I need to empty my bladder if that’s