Meta Gods War 3, B. Miles [best english books to read for beginners .txt] 📗

“Do whatever you want,” Cam said. “If he reacts to you at all, make sure you tell me about it.”

Theus took a deep breath, let out a groan, then closed his eyes and crossed his legs.

“Will do, sir,” the soldier said.

Cam smiled and left.

Theus would be fine. The soldiers would mess with him for a bit but they’d grow tired of it soon enough. He needed to come up with a better method of teaching Theus how to find the priori, but this would do for now.

Cam stalked off to find Felin next.

19

Felin’s tents stood at the edge of a clearing away from the main bulk of the army. A small trench was dug in around her perimeter. Cam nodded at a pair of tall guards leaning against a cart as he walked past.

“Evening, General,” the guard on the right said. He had bright blue eyes and a boyish face. “Come to see the mistress?”

Cam half smiled. “That’s what you call her?”

“Not to her face, mind you,” the guard said.

“I think she’d like it.”

“Oh, maybe she would, but why take the chance?”

A scream rang out from the nearest tent. Cam flinched and turned toward it, but neither of the guards seemed to react.

“Don’t mind him,” the boyish guard said. “He’s just having a chat with the mistress.”

“What’s she been doing in there?”

“Asking questions. You know.” The guard grinned at him. “Working in your interests.”

Cam gave the guards a half nod and stalked to the tent’s flap. He pushed it aside and slipped through.

The interior was dim. Muggy air hung flat and stale. He smelled sweat and bile. Two more guards stood to the right side of the tent. Their backs were straight and both were sweating. A low wooden table sat in front of them. Tools covered its surface, some stained with dried and flaking brown blood.

A man sat on a chair in the center of the tent. His hands were bound behind his back. His head lulled forward as blood seeped from his nose. Felin walked around the chair like a predator with her hands clasped behind her back. She wore a tight black tunic, the top two buttons undone to show a hint of her breasts, her thick dark hair tied up in a bun on her head.

“I know you’ve been spreading rumors,” she said. “I know you’ve been talking about things you shouldn’t talk about. The sooner you admit it, the sooner this is done.”

“I don’t know… what you’re talking about.” The man on the chair let out a sob. “I really don’t.”

“Pathetic.” Felin stepped close to him and pulled his head back by the roots of his hair. He let out another groan as she spoke into his ear. “You’ve been telling people that the Elves plan on taking the Mansion from us while we’re gone. You riled up a lot of people, Iorrim.”

Iorrim tried to shake his head but Felin held it tight. “No, I didn’t, that’s not—”

Felin grabbed his face by the cheeks. “Stop lying to me,” she said.

“I didn’t—”

She slammed her fist across his face. He slumped to the side and nearly tipped the chair over. She stepped back and clasped her hands in front of her.

“I’ll ask again, Iorrim. And if you lie again, I’m going to stop asking, and start hurting.”

“Please,” he said. “I didn’t—”

“Felin.” Cam couldn’t watch any longer. “Enough.”

Felin turned. Surprise lit up her face. Then it darkened into something else.

“You shouldn’t be here, Cam,” she said.

“We need to talk.”

Her eyes moved back to Iorrim. He spit blood in a thick gob that landed in his lap. He let out a horrible sob as his head hung limp, chin against his chest.

“I’m nearly finished with this one,” she said. “And then—”

“Now, Fel.”

She gave Cam a look then released a sharp breath. “Take him back to the pens,” she said to the guards. “I’ll finish this later.”

The guards came forward. One untied Iorrim’s wrists while the other helped him up. They half carried the limp man through a back flap and out of the room.

Felin walked over to the table and picked up a white rag. She wiped the blood from her knuckles.

“What can I do for you, Cam?”

“What is all this?” He gestured around him.

“This is what you asked for.”

He let out a shocked laugh. “I wanted you to investigate, not torture.”

“Investigate?” She gave him a look. “You have no clue, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

She threw the cloth down on the table and strode across the room. She kicked over the chair and glared down at it.

“That sniveling little fuck you saw simpering and whining is part of a movement,” she said. “I’m not sure who’s leading them or what their goals are. But they’ve been spreading lies through the camp ever since we left the Mansion.”

“What lies?” Cam masked. “Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?”

“I didn’t have enough to bring to you yet,” she said.

“What lies, Felin?”

She turned to him. “About the Elves,” she said. “About godlings in general. People believe the Elves are going to slaughter all Humans when this is over and take the Mansion as their own. People believe the Elves are working with the wolves in some… conspiracy.”

“That’s insane,” Cam said.

“I know that, you know that. Most people know it. But there are those who believe all godlings are monsters or worse.”

Cam looked away from the tipped over chair. He’d seen plenty of hate toward the godlings since venturing out from his village. There was prejudice and anger everywhere, and that anger always seemed to end up directed toward the non-Human races more often than not.

“Why are you torturing him, then?” Cam asked.

“I need to know who he’s talking to and where he’s getting these lies,” she said. “If I can cut it off at the source, we might be able to keep this army from splintering apart.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“It can be, Cam.” Felin stalked back and forth under a single hanging lamp. Her shadow lengthened,