The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  For some reason, his assessment angered Jarrett. Kendrick was far more of a man than the one before him. “What does this have to do with Tyla?”

  “It doesn’t. It has to do with you.” He settled the glass on the table and moved toward Jarrett again. “I left you in Terra Antiguo because I knew they could give you what I couldn’t. They could give you training and an education and confidence. I am well pleased with what you’ve become.”

  Jarrett narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t respond.

  “Now, it’s my turn.”

  “What?”

  Tomlin tilted his head up. His eyes were but slits of blue in the darkness. “I want you to return to Chernow with me and become Nazar.”

  Jarrett reared away from him. “You’re insane.”

  “Not a bit.”

  “I’m not Nazarien.”

  “You are…in blood. More Nazarien...more Nazar than most.”

  Jarrett shook his head. “This is crazy. I can’t be Nazar. As soon as Tyla’s well, she’ll want to return to Temeron. She isn’t going to want to live in Chernow.”

  “You’re right. Tyla can’t come to Chernow. Only you.”

  “I’m not living away from my wife.”

  “An unfortunate development.”

  Jarrett closed his eyes. Pressing a hand to his temple, he shook his head. “Hold on a moment. Are you saying you won’t give me the antidote unless I agree to this?”

  “I’m most definitely saying that I won’t give you the antidote unless you agree. Furthermore, I’m saying that Tyla Eldralin must never know why you’ve left, only that you have, only that you’ve chosen to become Nazar over her.”

  Jarrett’s lip lifted in a snarl. “Go to hell,” he said and turned away. He began walking back toward the pavilion.

  “You’ll really let her die?”

  Jarrett halted. Slowly, he pivoted and stared up at the Nazar. “No, because I know you can’t let Talar Eldralin’s daughter die. I’m calling your bluff, Trauner. It’s over.”

  With grave dignity, Tomlin Trauner closed the distance between him and his son. “This is no bluff, Jarrett. I am in earnest. I must secure the Nazarien at any cost. Any cost. You see, I’m dying. I have cancer and I have no idea how much longer I’ll live, but there is nothing that will stop me from getting what I know I must. My agreement stands. You leave here with me and never see Tyla Eldralin again. She is never to know why you left and should she be told, let me make it very clear that she will pay the ultimate price for such knowledge. I am not a man to trifle with, and I will not trifle here.”

  Jarrett felt his control snap. “She’s Talar Eldralin’s daughter!” he shouted.

  Tomlin nodded gravely. “Exactly. Do not forget who we are, Jarrett. We are Nazarien. When all is said and done, she is Talar’s daughter. She is, after all, a woman.”

  * * *

  Kendrick looked up as Jarrett ducked under the pavilion flap and slumped into the seat beside Tyla. He didn’t speak, didn’t meet anyone’s gaze, just sat, his expression shuttered. Kendrick exchanged a look with Kalas, then leaned forward.

  He started to ask him what had happened, but the flap lifted a second time. Tomlin Trauner strode into the pavilion, followed by four Nazarien. Farad rose immediately and met them.

  “Nazar?”

  He took Farad’s offered hand, then glanced round the room. He studied Kalas a moment before turning back to the Stravad Leader. “Stravad Leader, Haldane.” He ducked his head at each of them, then made a longer bow toward Kalas. His guards did the same. “Your Majesty.”

  Kalas nodded at them in bewilderment.

  The Nazar focused his attention on Farad. “I understand Talar’s daughter was poisoned.”

  “Yes, she was.”

  “I believe I can help.” He motioned to one of the guards. The man stepped forward and presented a narrow box to the Stravad Leader. “We have an antidote.”

  Farad accepted the box. “An antidote?”

  The Nazar nodded.

  Farad opened the box and lifted out a vial. “Are you sure?”

  “Quite. The Nazarien have studied the Orahim for years. As inventive as the Orahim are, each one of their potions utilize the exact same poisonous ingredient. Once we learned how to neutralize that ingredient, we were able to reverse the other deadly effects.”

  Farad handed the vial to the closest healer. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “How long will it take to work?” demanded Tash.

  “She should be well enough to travel in a week or so, but you should see an improvement within hours.”

  Farad reached for the Nazar’s hand and pumped it. “The Temerian Stravad are indebted to you,” he said. “Whatever you ask, we will grant it.”

  “Truly, we are only doing our duty. You owe us nothing. After all, she is Talar Eldralin’s daughter.”

  Jarrett flinched, drawing Kendrick’s attention, then he closed his eyes.

  * * *

  A loud thump brought Kalas awake. He jerked forward in his chair and looked around. Daylight had come. It filtered through the tent fabric, liming everyone in its glow. Jarrett also sat up, blinking in confusion, then his gaze cleared and he slid forward in his chair, reaching out to press the back of his hand against Tyla’s cheek.

  Kalas rose and leaned over his sister. The flush in her cheeks was gone and her breathing was steady. She seemed to be sleeping naturally. He touched her temple and found it cool. Breathing a sigh of relief, he pressed a kiss against her forehead.

  The flap separated and sunlight streamed through the opening, landing on the bed and bathing Tyla in its glow. Her head moved on the pillow to escape it, the first sign of awareness she’d shown in days.

  The Nazar loomed in the opening, then stepped inside and let the flap fall closed. Kalas studied him. There was something about the man that set him on edge, but he couldn’t place why.

  Although he had his back to the opening, Jarrett hunched his shoulders at the Nazar’s entrance and his hand tightened on Tyla’s.

  “Your Majesty,” the Nazar said, ducking his head in a stiff, unnatural movement. “The Nazarien take their leave of you.”

  Kalas gave him a nod, but he didn’t know what the man expected him to say. He had no jurisdiction over the Nazarien.

  “Should you ever wish to train…” Tomlin began, “we would welcome you in Chernow.”

  “Thank you.”

  Then, in a very odd gesture, the Nazar dropped his hand on Jarrett’s shoulder. Kalas’ frown deepened as Jarrett lowered his head and closed his eyes. He started to ask him what was going on, but Dolan suddenly appeared in the pavilion’s entrance.

  “Your Majesty, the Baron requests an audience with you. It’s very important.”

  Kalas motioned Inara into his unoccupied chair, then moved around the bed, following Dolan out of the pavilion. He sensed the others rising and following him, but he wasn’t sure why.

  As he stepped out, his gaze came to rest on the Baron, standing before the pavilion with his sword lying across the palms of his hands. Behind him were rows and rows of both Adishian and Sarkisian soldiers, interspersed with Lawry fighters.

  Kalas halted and looked at Dolan. Dolan took his position at his right side, snapping to attention, but his expression was blank. Looking to his left, Kalas noted that Jarrett and the Nazar were standing a short distance away. Jarrett gave Kalas a puzzled look, but nothing more.

  “Your Majesty,” said the Baron, his voice ringing over the assembled men. “I ask for permission to speak freely.”

  “Granted,” said Kalas.

  “You haven’t had time for a formal coronation, but by virtue of recent events, I felt it was important to declare the following. I, Parish Brazelton, pledge my fealty to you as King of both Adishian and Sarkisian. From this day forward, I will follow you wherever you lead.” Moving forward, he laid his sword at Kalas’ feet.

  Kalas’ eyes widened.

  As he rose again, the ranks of men beh
ind him drew their own swords. Kalas stared in awe as man after man placed their blades on the ground, then rose to attention once more. Suddenly, Jarrett pulled forth his blade and stepped forward, laying his own sword across the Baron’s. Muzik and Kendrick followed him. Even the blond man with the facial scar named Earon came forward. He bent over and placed a wooden cane at Kalas’ feet. When Kalas gave him a quizzical look, he shrugged.

  “I don’t have a sword,” he explained and limped back into line.

  Finally, Dolan drew his blade and placed it before Kalas. Kalas watched the Nazarien in astonishment. Then before he could say anything, the Baron went down on one knee, bowing his head. In a rippling motion, the rest of the men did the same, kneeling before their King.

  For a moment, Kalas couldn’t move. He stared around at the bowed heads, the kneeling men, and his heart pounded in his ears. Then shaking off his stupor, he moved forward and reached for the Baron’s arm, pulling him to his feet.

  “I accept your pledge,” he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

  The Baron smiled and the men cheered. Once the cacophony died down, the Baron bowed again. “By your leave, Your Majesty,” he said.

  “Of course,” answered Kalas.

  The Baron bent and picked up his sword, then turned away, striding toward the ranks of soldiers.

  “Baron?” Kalas called quickly.

  The Baron hesitated and turned back around.

  “Parish,” Kalas amended. He started to speak, then looked away. Drawing a deep breath, he met the Baron’s questioning gaze. “I would like to know about my father,” he said.

  * * *

  Closing the distance between them, the Nazar went toe to toe with Jarrett, glaring at him. “A Nazar never pledges fealty to anyone.”

  Jarrett didn’t back away. “I’m not Nazar.”

  “You will be. Do not forget our bargain. You have an hour to pack your things and say your goodbyes, but make sure you remember the terms of our agreement. She must not know why you’ve left.”

  “I want to stay until she is fully conscious.”

  The Nazar narrowed his eyes. “Do not mistake my actions for charity, Jarrett. We leave within the hour. If you falter, her life is forfeit.”

  Jarrett clenched his jaw. He wanted to fight back, but there was nothing in Tomlin’s demeanor that suggested this might be a bluff. A tremor shook him, but he stood his ground. Finally, Tomlin turned away.

  Jarrett returned to the pavilion. Inara was the only one inside. The others were celebrating Kalas’ impromptu coronation. He didn’t spare the nurse a glance, but went to the bed and sank down beside his wife.

  He couldn’t stop shaking. Leaning over her, he gently laid his head against her breast and listened to her heart beat. Curling his arms around her, he held her, trying to absorb the feel of her. Finally, he permitted himself one last look.

  Her eyelashes made shadows against her cheekbones and her lips were parted. He pressed his own to them, lingering, then he buried his face in her hair. He could feel the pulsation of the emerald against his chest as he held her.

  Closing his eyes tightly, he fought off the wave of panic rising inside of him. He tried to think of a way out of this predicament, but his mind wouldn’t focus. As he drew away from her, she shifted, her brow furrowing. He let a strand of hair pass through his fingers, then he forced himself to rise.

  Turning his back on her nearly crippled him, but he walked to the opening and stepped outside. His heart pounded violently and he couldn’t catch his breath, but he forced himself to keep moving.

  “Jarrett!”

  He stumbled to a halt, closing his eyes and catching the sob that rose inside of him.

  “What the hell is going on?” demanded Kendrick at his back.

  Clenching his fists, he turned. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t formulate the words.

  Kendrick closed the distance between them. “What did he make you promise?”

  Jarrett shook his head.

  “Jarrett, what did he make you do?”

  Jarrett exhaled. He couldn’t bear this alone. “I have to go to Chernow with him.”

  “What?”

  “I have to go to Chernow and train as a Nazarien…train to become the Nazar.”

  “What about Tyla?”

  Jarrett looked away.

  “He can’t do this. He has no right. We’ll ruin him. We’ll tell Farad, the Lord of Loden. Kalas will intervene!”

  Jarrett moved forward suddenly and grabbed Kendrick’s arm. “She can’t know. No one can. Do you understand? This you must guard with your life.”

  “Why?”

  Jarrett couldn’t make himself explain. He couldn’t pull everything together. Not yet.

  “Did he threaten her life?” When he didn’t answer, Kendrick’s eyes widened. “It’s a bluff, Jarrett. He’s bluffing. He wouldn’t hurt her. She’s Talar Eldralin’s daughter.”

  “Exactly. He made that very clear.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t you? This is your order, Kendrick, your religion. Just how expendable are women among your people, all women. Even Talar Eldralin’s daughter.”

  The blood drained from Kendrick’s face.

  Jarrett released him. “Go back to Temeron with her. Stay with her. Protect her for me.” He drew a deep breath and released it. “And never tell her why I left. Promise me that.”

  Kendrick closed his eyes.

  “Please, Kendrick.”

  “I promise.”

  Jarrett nodded. He forced a smile. “Thank you,” he said. Permitting himself one final look at the pavilion, he turned.

  “Jarrett?” Kendrick caught his arm and pulled him back around. Then he stepped forward and embraced him. At first Jarrett was so startled, he didn’t return the gesture, but finally he hugged the Nazarien in return. Gradually, they parted and Jarrett forced another smile.

  Then he turned…

  …and walked away.

  THE END

  THE WATCHERS OF ELDON

  World of Samar: Book Seven

  M L Hamilton

  authormlhamilton.net

  The Watchers of Eldon

  Copyright © 2015 M L Hamilton

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed by a newspaper, magazine or journal.

  Second print

  All Characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  No author can call herself an author unless people are reading. This relationship is sacred – a trust, a commitment. I am honoured to make it with my readers. And to my family, thank you.

  May Eldon’s light shine brightly in your lives!

  The heart that has truly loved

  never forgets.

  ~ Thomas More

  PROLOGUE

  Jax squinted through the fog. It lay like a blanket, covering the swells, mingling with the mist and spray, but just ahead, he could see something dark and large looming. The waves, themselves, changed tone. He could hear the roar as they met land, slapping against invisible rocks and breaking.

  A moment later the fog whispered away and the shadow of the rocks loomed over the sailboat, plunging Jax into an unnatural darkness. He brought down the sails, slowing the boat, and dropped anchor when he was far enough away from the rocks but close enough to swim. He tied the sails as Brodie had shown him, careful to smooth out the wrinkles. As he completed these mundane tasks, his eyes searched the island, looking for signs of smoke or other indications of habitation. Nothing.

  Grabbing the pack he’d prepared, he slung it over his shoulders, adjusted the straps and carefully picked his way to the side. Lowering himself into the water, he gritted his teeth against the chill as the water soaked though his c
lothes. He didn’t have to swim far before his feet scraped against the sandy bottom.

  He stood and waded in to shore, then braced his hands on his thighs, catching his breath. Shucking out of the backpack, he quickly changed out of his damp clothes, rolled them up and stored them in the pack, then he put on his boots and strapped a knife to his belt.

  Then he started hiking. The beach gave way to dense foliage and finally trees. The sounds of the ocean dimmed behind him and the ground began sloping upward.

  Occasionally he caught sight of birds flitting through the trees, and once something skittered away in the underbrush. He followed a narrow trail of trampled vegetation, climbing up over rocky outcroppings and winding his way higher and higher.

  After about an hour of climbing, he took a seat on a rock and pulled his water from his pack. He drank sparingly. He hadn’t seen any fresh water since he’d begun his climb. Replacing the water, he looked around. From this vantage point, he could see the beach, the glittering blue of the ocean, the white of the breakers, and his little sailboat bobbing in the distance. The fog had cleared and the sun shown down yellow and bright.

  Shifting on the rock, he looked up the hill. He couldn’t see the top of it, but he sensed it couldn’t be much farther. Pushing himself to his feet, he started climbing again, but he hadn’t gone more than a few feet when he noticed a strange tingling sensation in his hands. It started in his palms and radiated out to the tips of each finger.