The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  “Let’s go, Your Highness,” ordered Lex.

  Tyla didn’t spare him a glance as she stepped forward into the room, her heart hammering in her ears. She could sense Jarrett behind her and used their psychic connection to center herself, but halfway into the room, guards moved between them, pushing him at sword point off to the side. Tyla watched them force him into line beside Muzik and Kendrick. The rest of the Council members sat at their places along either side of the chamber, soldiers in Sarkisian colors placed between each of them, hands resting against the hilts of their swords. Adishian was now a city under occupation, she thought grimly.

  Rarick sat on Tarnow’s dais, leaning back in the great chair, his withered hands on either arm. He’d aged little in the last ten years. His hair was still dusky brown and combed back from his brow, his face only a little more lined around the eyes and mouth. He had a short, even beard, speckled with streaks of grey, his yellow eyes set back and shadowed. He was tall, over six feet, his height not diminished through the years, and yet he was thin, so thin his features looked almost cadaverous in the brilliant light.

  Tyla stared at him, awash in memories. Those cold eyes and thin, taut mouth had bespoke a great deal of pain and torment for her. Rarick lifted a gaunt hand and guards moved close behind Tyla, urging her toward the dais. She paused just before the first step and the guards formed a ring behind her. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw Jarrett through the press of bodies, his silent touch of courage slipping into her mind.

  She turned around and confronted the Sarkisian King, forcing all emotions from her face.

  Rarick smiled, although it was more a snarl than a smile, his lips pulling back from his teeth. “Come forward so I might see you better, Tyla,” he said.

  Tyla hesitated only a moment and felt the edge of a sword in her back. She stepped up on the first step. Again he pulled back his lips in his half-smile, half-snarl, and his breath escaped in a loud sigh. “These years in Adishian have been good to you, child,” he said, “I’ve heard rumors to the effect that Adishian had the most beautiful Queen on all of Samar, but I didn’t know the rumors were true. You are truly beautiful!”

  “I’m not easily flattered, Rarick,” she said. “Shall I accept compliments from a man that has taken my people as captives? I want nothing from you, but your swift departure back to Sarkisian.”

  Rarick leaned back in his chair and rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “Such beauty, but see, Kalas, why your wish cannot be granted? She has been given far too much latitude. Why else would she talk to me in this manner?” He leaned forward and caught Tyla’s wrist, pulling her up on the dais to stand directly in front of him. “Listen to me, child, I have come from Dorland to be with Adishian in its time of need. Do not mistake the great sacrifice I’ve made on your part.”

  “Make no more sacrifices, Rarick. Adishian does not choose your company, nor do we wish your occupation or your war. The very air you breathe is vile to us.”

  Rarick leaned forward and with deadly swiftness, he struck her across the mouth. Tyla flinched and Jarrett started forward, but Muzik held him back.

  She lifted her face to the king again and blood stained her upper lip. She wiped it away with her fingers and her eyes burned with hatred. “I see you haven’t changed in the last ten years.”

  He laughed openly then and reached out, grabbing her wrist and drawing her up against him. “I’ve changed a great deal,” he said and then his eyes narrowed. “You are quite a beauty. No wonder Tarnow was so willing to give away his life and kingdom to keep me from Adishian.” He reached out and lifted the thick braid of hair that had fallen over Tyla’s left shoulder, pressing it between his fingers.

  “And how is Gallia?”

  Rarick’s eyes rose to meet her own. “She is well, child,” he said, his voice becoming even more edged. “She’d be rightfully envious if she could see you now. She was anxious to send you away at sixteen because you had far surpassed her beauty, but now...” His hand moved up and latched onto Tyla’s upper arm. Tyla winced as his hold became increasingly tight. “Show me the power,” he whispered, “I can feel that you’ve increased it tenfold. Show me!”

  Tyla shook her head and tried to back away, but he held her. Slowly, as if he were reaching for a wild butterfly, he caressed her cheek. His touch was vile and she pulled against his grip. Again Rarick smiled and his hand slipped down to her neck, tracing the muscles along her throat. Instinctively, Tyla struck out at him with her power, but to her surprise, her blow reverberated back into herself and she staggered in shock.

  Rarick’s hand fell from her throat and he laughed. The Council members seemed to shrink into themselves. “While you’ve been working on your powers,” said Rarick, “I’ve been perfecting my own, a barrier against you. You will never have free rein in my mind again.”

  He yanked her to her knees before him and Tyla felt the hold on her control slip as her fear mounted. Again Rarick’s hand lifted to stroke her throat. “I have many great plans for you and me, child,” he said, his eyes lowered to no more than a slit. “With your powers we can control all of Samar.”

  “Think of this, Tyla. Now with Adishian under my control, and your power at my back, we can bring Dorland to its knees and then we can turn our attention to Loden. Nothing will stand against you, Tyla, not if you turn your power to my use. Once Loden falls, I swear I will give you Temeron to do with as you will and I will ask nothing more of you.”

  Tyla folded her fingers over his and pulled his hand away. “You would give me all of this for the use of my power?”

  Rarick nodded.

  “Never. I’d sooner take my life than give you any aid.”

  Rarick leaned back in his chair, but he still held her by her arm, then slowly a smile spread across his face. “It really matters little. Your power will be mine. There are other ways. Your brother is proof of that.” He drew her closer still and his breath was hot against her neck. “Pity you did not grant Tarnow an heir, but no matter, you will give me one instead.”

  Kalas started forward. “Father, please...”

  Rarick’s eyes snapped to his. “Do not displease me further!”

  Kalas stumbled to a halt and his expression twisted. Tyla could see him from the corner of her eyes and she could feel his fear. Her gaze centered on the cut over his cheekbone and she felt ill inside. “Leave it alone,” she whispered to him, touching him briefly with her power. “Just leave it alone.”

  Prying her arm free from Rarick’s hold, she pushed herself to her feet. She faced the King and her eyes narrowed. “As I said before, I would sooner kill myself than ever let you touch me.”

  Rarick’s face contorted, then he rose swiftly to his feet and struck her. She lost her balance and felt herself fall. She struck the ground and the breath left her body. Through a haze of agony as she tried to draw in air, she heard pandemonium ensue, shouts and blows and grunts of pain.

  Someone grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. The side of her face felt numb and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She tried to get her legs under her, but her head was ringing with Rarick’s blow.

  “Get her out of here,” came Rarick’s command.

  She felt herself being lifted into someone’s arms. She opened her eyes and met her brother’s gaze. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she placed her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes again, trying to block out the mayhem on all sides.

  * * *

  Jarrett woke on an unyielding surface. He opened his eyes to find Kendrick kneeling beside him.

  “Are you all right?”

  He nodded, then grimaced. His skull ached and his stomach roiled. Memories coalesced into place and he rolled into a sitting position. “Where are we?”

  “Home,” came Muzik’s voice behind him.

  Jarrett braced his head in his hands and looked around. They were in a stone cell. The only light came through a grate high up on the wall behind them. A bucket and a pallet were the only furnish
ings. The walls were damp and covered in a fine film of pale grey moss. “Nice,” he commented.

  Wrapping his fingers around the back of his skull, he closed his eyes. The situation overwhelmed him and there didn’t seem to be any solution. When the dungeon door creaked, Jarrett scrambled to his feet beside Kendrick. The muscles along his back and shoulders tensed as someone stepped into the room. Through the open door, Jarrett could see a phalanx of guards waiting, their weapons drawn.

  Jarrett’s gaze shifted to the Prince of Sarkisian. “What do you want?” he snarled.

  Kalas stared at him in return. “I’m not sure, I just felt I should come.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? You’re the last person I want to see.” He took a step toward the Prince, but Kendrick caught his arm. Outside the cell, the guards moved into a defensive position.

  Kalas motioned them back.

  “Get him out of here before I kill him!” hissed Muzik.

  “Quiet!”

  Kendrick’s warning sank into the rage Jarrett was feeling. He studied the Prince. “How did you hurt yourself?” he said, pointing to the gash on Kalas’ cheek.

  Kalas fingered it with a hint of surprise, then lifted his eyes to Jarrett’s again. “I fell.”

  “You fell?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Why I came...why I came was because of Tyla.”

  “Tyla?”

  Kalas’ eyes narrowed on Jarrett. “A lot of what Tyla says is imagined. She’s always done that. She makes things difficult for herself. If she’d only cooperate, it wouldn’t be so bad for her.”

  “Do you understand what Rarick intends to do to her, Kalas? How badly he intends to hurt her?”

  The veil seemed to lift a bit. “He won’t hurt her. He’s just threatening her to get her to cooperate.”

  Jarrett’s teeth clenched in frustration. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I can’t go to Tyla, but I don’t want her to be afraid.” He hesitated, then took a step closer to Jarrett. “I thought I saw something between you.” His eyes narrowed on the Terrian. “You speak with her, in your mind, don’t you?”

  Jarrett nodded.

  “We were close once, like that, but now Tyla’s changed. It’s the power, it’s made her different.”

  “That’s not true, Kalas. Tyla hasn’t changed. You have.” Again a flicker against the veil of his eyes. Jarrett inched closer and lowered his voice. “Rarick’s going to hurt her very badly, but you can prevent it, you can help us if you’ll let us free.”

  “You don’t understand. It’s just a threat.”

  “You’re lying to yourself because you know that if you let something happen to her, you’re responsible.”

  “Be careful, Jarrett,” warned Kendrick.

  “What do you mean?”

  Jarrett moved another step closer to him. “Kalas, Tyla’s going to be hurt by Rarick, very badly.” Kalas started to protest again, but Jarrett held up his hand. “Please hear me out. When you were children, you and Tyla, the things that happened, the things that Rarick did to you weren’t imagined by Tyla. They did happen, Kalas. Your wound didn’t happen by falling. Rarick did it, didn’t he, when you presented your plan for keeping Tyla in Adishian?”

  Kalas’ mouth worked over some words, but no sound came out.

  “How have you managed the last ten years without Tyla to blame for Rarick’s treatment? How have you faced every day knowing that you were tied to a monster? Every injury you’ve suffered, including this last one, has come from Rarick’s hand.”

  Kalas began to tremble.

  Lex Prestar suddenly appeared in the doorway. “My lord, Prince Kalas,” he said, his voice sharp.

  Kalas turned in his direction and Jarrett could see the veil fall back across his eyes. Jarrett glared at the Sarkisian commander and such savage thoughts of violence went through his mind.

  “Lord Rarick requests your presence, immediately,” he said, his gaze shifting to Jarrett.

  Kalas nodded and moved for the door. Once in the light of the hallway, he paused and looked back, then the door to the cell closed and the bolt was thrown.

  “You almost had him,” said Kendrick. “Just a little more time...”

  Jarrett nodded, feeling both defeat and despair rising in his throat like a lump.

  * * *

  Rarick lounged on Tarnow’s throne, his hand over his mouth, absorbed in his thoughts. Tyla waited in his chambers, but he couldn’t bring himself to carry out the plan he’d laid before her.

  She terrified him.

  He’d seen the hatred in her eyes – the green had glowed with an inner light. Why he was still alive, he wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t prepared to test the limits of her ability. He remembered well what she was capable of doing if forced to use it. He’d been the one to force her more times than he could remember. And now, after ten years of seclusion, he really didn’t know how much greater that power might be. He needed to know. He needed to test her, but he needed to protect himself.

  He shifted his weight on the throne. Damn Tarnow, he didn’t even know how to build a comfortable seat of power. Settling himself as comfortably as he could, he refocused his thoughts.

  Rarick had weathered much more difficult situations than this. Tyla’s father had been a greater thorn in his side during his life and he’d found a way to defeat him. He could find a way to use Tyla’s power without taking any risks.

  One of Rarick’s greatest assets was his ability to read people. He liked to watch people, subordinates, enemies, even those he pretended were friends, and he could spot their weaknesses. So much was given away with a stray look, a shift of posture. Rarick knew these things and he knew how to exploit them.

  He hadn’t missed the exchange of looks between Tyla and the Terrian. Even though he’d been trembling inside when facing her, even in the midst of cowing her, he’d caught that one stray look. It was enough – that and the information Lex Prestar brought him from his interrogations. Tarnow might have pledged her to the Nazarien, but she had been spending her time with the Terrian.

  He lifted his eyes as Lex Prestar escorted Kalas into the room. He felt a thrill of excitement when he saw the cut on Kalas’ cheek. The young man wouldn’t meet his eye – that was also good. And yet he shook his head in disgust. He knew Kalas loved his sister, but even that love wasn’t strong enough to overcome Rarick’s dominance.

  Never would Kalas look at him the way his sister had; he couldn’t even meet his eye. Talar Eldralin’s blood wasn’t enough to overcome the taint of Gallia’s genetics. His son was weak, spineless, tameable – pathetic. Rarick loathed him as much as he feared Tyla, but at the same time, he was the key to Rarick’s immortality. As long as Kalas lived, Rarick would rule through him.

  “Where have you been?” Rarick demanded.

  Kalas glanced up, then dropped his gaze. His mouth moved, but no words came out.

  “The dungeon,” answered Lex with an oily smile.

  Although Rarick wouldn’t admit it, he admired Lex. He was so much stronger and virulent than his father had been. In fact, when Rarick had been forced to condemn Deck to hanging for treason, Lex had been the one to deliver the orders.

  “Why?”

  Lex started to answer, but Rarick held up his hand. He wanted Kalas’ response. “I asked you a question, boy. Why did you go to the dungeon?”

  Kalas shook his head. “I don’t know...I...”

  Rarick leaned forward on the throne. “I would suggest you not do so again. You wouldn’t want me to get the impression that you’re plotting against me, would you?”

  Kalas’ frightened gaze rose to touch Rarick’s, then fell away again. “No, no...”

  “Because you know what I do to traitors, right?” He offered Lex a smile. “Right, Lex?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” said Lex in return.

  “I would never...” Kalas’ voice broke and he lowered his head further.

  Rarick suppressed a wave of loathing and leane
d back in his throne. “No matter. What’s done is done?” he said with an airy wave of his hand. “Tell me, boy. Which one of the foreign messengers does your sister care for most of all?”

  Kalas frowned. “I don’t understand...”

  “Which one has she spent the most time with of late?”

  “The Terrian,” muttered Kalas.

  Rarick nodded, folding his hand over his chin. “Just as I thought. I wonder what lengths she would go to in order to save his life.”

  Kalas did meet Rarick’s gaze and his expression was stricken. “If you harm him, Terra Antiguo may declare war, and if Terra Antiguo declares war, Loden may follow.”

  Rarick bit his lower lip. He had considered that, but he didn’t think it likely. What land declared war over one man’s life. Loden hadn’t even declared war over Talar Eldralin. “I don’t think that’s likely.” His lips moved in an involuntary smile. “And even if they do, we will have the ultimate weapon at our disposal. If Tyla will use her power to save this Terrian, what might she do to save her brother?”

  Kalas’ mouth opened, but no sound came out. Rarick chuckled. This was almost as much entertainment as expanding his kingdom, and this was far easier to accomplish.

  * * *

  Tyla sat huddled in the window seat in Rarick’s chambers, chambers that had once belonged to Tarnow. The guards had brought her here, bound her hands and feet, and jammed shut both windows. They even took the precaution of removing any sharp objects from the room to prevent her from carrying out her earlier oath to Rarick. Then they left.

  This was all done as quickly as possible and the door was bolted shut from the outside. Tyla listened for a long time, straining to hear the breathing of a guard outside the door, but there wasn’t any. Rarick had taken the guards away, having secured all her escape routes, so that she wouldn’t be able to use her powers against them to get away.

  She was cold sitting in the window and afraid. The slightest sound, the creaking of the castle as it settled for the night, made her heart leap into her throat.