The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  Jarrett sighed and Tyla regretted her comment. She hadn’t really intended to sting him.

  “What happened to Kian?”

  No matter how many years passed, Tyla suspected she would always feel Kian’s loss. No other animal would ever replace him. “He went to sleep one night and didn’t wake up. It was a blessing. His back legs were so crippled with arthritis that he had a hard time moving, but Gods, I still miss him.”

  Jarrett braced his forearms on his thighs. He turned the blue stone over and over in his hands. “He saved my life a number of times.”

  “Do you remember when he knocked those soldiers off the dock in Kazden?”

  Jarrett made a low chuckling sound. “Looked like falling pins. Incredible animal.”

  Tyla sipped her drink. “What is that?” she asked, indicating the rock.

  Jarrett held it in his palm so she could see it. “Kerrin gave it to me – to remember him. He said it was the exact shade of our eyes.”

  “He’s such a good boy.”

  “He is. He’s amazing. You’ve done a great job raising him.”

  Tyla lowered her gaze. She stared into the fire, watched the flames carve their way through the wood. She didn’t want to talk about Kerrin. It made her feel desperate inside. She wasn’t sure how she was going to stand being away from him this long.

  “Do you ever hear from Earon?” she asked, changing the subject.

  Jarrett shook his head. “He didn’t exactly approve of my decision. He followed me when I left with Tomlin and threatened to kick my ass, but he backed down as always when he realized I was twice his size. Told me to go to hell, then left.”

  “We hear from Lawyan quite a bit. He said Shandar went to live with the Tirsbor Nazarien?”

  Jarrett scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah, don’t know what happened there. He suddenly got this travel bug and wanted to explore Nevaisser, especially after Kalas ended the war with Dorland. He wound up in Tirsbor and decided to stay. No one’s sure why.”

  “Do you see Lawyan and Shad very often?”

  “I go to Terra Antiguo once a year or so. I’ve heard that Kalas goes regularly, though.”

  “He does.”

  “But you never wanted to go?”

  She shrugged and finished her tea. Settling the cup beside the fire, she leaned back in her chair. The Stamerian had eased the ache in her bones. “I always thought I would. I would love to meet both of them, but first Kerrin was too small, then I was chosen as Stravad Leader four years ago. It’s taken all my time.”

  Jarrett met her gaze. “I understand.”

  “I guess you do.” She shook her head. “It’s so odd to think of you as head of the Nazarien order. Their beliefs were so far removed from yours. How do you reconcile it?”

  Jarrett sighed. “I don’t. There’s no way. When I first took over, I thought I could make huge changes, really shake up the order.” He looked away and his fingers tightened around the stone. “I shook it up, but the consequences were terrible. So many innocent people paid for my meddling.”

  Tyla wanted to ask him more, but Allistar suddenly appeared behind him. “Cook has dinner prepared,” he said.

  Tyla nodded. “Thank you, Allistar.” She pushed herself to her feet, grimacing as her muscles protested. She wasn’t really hungry, but she knew everyone would become alarmed if she didn’t eat.

  Jarrett sat where he was, turning the stone over in his hands. She looked down at him and felt a pang of remorse. They had actually been sharing a real conversation for once – one not tinged with anger.

  “Are you coming?”

  He looked up at her and Tyla realized Kerrin was right – the stone was the exact shade of their eyes. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

  Tyla didn’t know what ghost lurked behind his gaze, and she didn’t really want to find out, not now. It hurt to see how great the distance was between them. “All right,” she answered and walked away.

  * * *

  “The prisoner won’t drink water. She hasn’t drank all day,” said the young private.

  Kalas sighed and lowered the map he’d been studying. He handed it to Dolan and turned toward the wagon where they were keeping her. A warm breeze blew across the desert, setting up a miniature dust devil against his boots. Stars dotted the sky, shining with brilliance against a velvet black backdrop. They were just breaking camp and preparing to begin their travel once more. They had spent all day sleeping and repairing tack.

  The prisoner was sitting with her back against the wheel. She was still shackled, but the shackles weren’t attached to anything. Kalas felt he should be annoyed with this, but he honestly didn’t care.

  She looked up at him when he approached, Dolan at his side. Her brown hair was a tangled mess that slid back across her left eye. Her lips were parched and her skin was clammy.

  “Will you speak with me now?”

  “Speak. No one’s stopping you.”

  “I must speak to you alone.”

  “Not going to happen.” He glanced over at Attis as the huge Cult member moved to his right side. “What is going to happen is you’re going to drink water and cause me no more trouble.”

  “I will drink when you speak with me.”

  Kalas crossed his arms over his chest. “Blackmail, Mediocre Assassin, really? I’m immune. We can make things unpleasant. Attis here could force the water down your throat.”

  He wasn’t prepared for her reaction. Her eyes widened and she pressed herself back against the wheel. The look on her face was one of stark terror. Dolan gripped his arm, leaning close.

  “She’s female Nazarien, Your Majesty. Think on it.”

  Kalas closed his eyes. He was tired and dirty and sick of the desert. Attis was right, it was a slice of hell. This Nazarien assassin presented untold problems and he didn’t want to deal with them right now.

  “Then you take care of it,” he snapped at Dolan and turned, surprising those that guarded him. He started back toward his pavilion and they scrambled to catch up, but he was a few steps ahead of them.

  A shadow rose from the closest campfire and blocked his way. He had enough time to throw up his hands before the figure launched itself at him. A glint of sliver reflected firelight and Kalas grabbed for it, even as the weight of his attacker careened into him and knocked him off his feet. He managed to roll into the impact, kicking out as he fell. The force of his kick launched his attacker over his head and into the crowd of guards behind him. Kalas was up and spinning to meet him a moment later, but the guards had already drawn swords and were descending on his assailant.

  “Don’t kill him!” he shouted.

  They stumbled to a halt and a murmur rose from the circle of soldiers as they stared down at the body.

  Kalas walked over, kicking the knife away from the assailant’s out-stretched hand. He started to bend down, but stopped. The man’s eyes were open and fixed, staring at nothing. Attis hunkered over him and felt at his neck, then looked up.

  “He’s already dead, Your Majesty,” he said.

  Kalas shook his head. “That can’t be. He just attacked me. How could he be dead? He didn’t fall on his knife or anything, did he?”

  Attis lifted the knife and turned it in the light of the lanterns. Blood darkened the blade. “There’s blood on it.”

  Dolan took his arm and turned him. “Because you’re bleeding. How bad were you cut?”

  Kalas felt his shoulder where the blade had bitten through his sleeve. He hadn’t even noticed it before. His fingers came away wet. “A flesh wound. How did this man die so quickly, Dolan?”

  “I’d guess poison.”

  The soldiers murmured and Kalas gave Dolan an incredulous stare. “Poison?”

  Dolan shrugged. “Obviously, what else could act this fast? Our men didn’t touch him and I doubt you killed him. Apparently, part of his mission was not to get captured, no matter the cost.”

  Kalas looked over at his prisoner. She was watching the entire scen
e with cool speculation.

  “Are you willing to speak with me now?” she asked, shaking the hair out of her eyes.

  * * *

  She downed the glass of water. With a violent motion that made her shackles jangle, she held it out to Attis, who filled it again. She began gulping once more.

  “You’ll make yourself sick,” said Kalas. He flinched as Dolan applied an antiseptic to his scratch. He thought Dolan was over reacting, but it wasn’t good to let anything get infected in the desert.

  She lowered the glass, licking her lips. She studied him carefully. Kalas found her constant gaze unnerving as if she were looking right through him and seeing him for a fraud.

  “You wanted to talk, so talk,” he said.

  Her gaze shifted between Dolan and Attis, then back to him. “Alone. We are not alone.”

  Kalas sighed. He was tired and his shoulder hurt. “And we won’t be. Both Dolan and Attis are Nazarien. You can’t object to Nazarien being present, can you?”

  She considered his logic, then shrugged. “Fine.”

  Dolan finished bandaging the wound and Kalas slipped his shirt back over his shoulder. He didn’t bother to button it though. It was soiled and torn, ready for scrap. “Why, exactly, are the Nazarien attacking me?”

  “The pledge was broken.”

  Kalas ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Listen, I’m not known for my patience.” He didn’t need to look at Dolan to know the Nazarien’s brows rose at that. “Can you just get to the point?”

  “It is hard to think with these shackles,” she answered, lifting them.

  “Try.”

  “The pledge between the Nazars.”

  Kalas shook his head. “Pledge? The pledge again. What is this damn pledge?”

  “How could you not know?”

  “Pretend I don’t.”

  “Nazarien do not pretend.” When Kalas closed his eyes in exasperation, she quickly continued. “The pledge between Tomlin Trauner and his son?”

  “Jarrett.”

  “Yes, the current Nazar. Tomlin made him promise to leave your sister and return with him to Chernow to train as Nazar. He was never to see her again.”

  Kalas frowned. “What?”

  “It was a binding pledge and for ten years, the current Nazar kept it.”

  Kalas glanced at both Dolan and Attis. Attis looked away. “Hold on. Tomlin Trauner forced Jarrett to leave my sister? How?”

  “He would not give him the antidote to the Orahim poison if he did not agree.”

  Kalas slumped back in his chair. “Did you know this?” he asked Dolan.

  “Attis told me of the pledge, just as he told you, but I didn’t know what it was.”

  “Go on.”

  “The current Nazar believes the pledge ended with Tomlin’s death. Most of the order agrees, but there are those with long memories and they will never forget.”

  “Never forget?”

  “When the Nazar left Chernow and headed toward Loden, some of the Nazarien were furious – those closest to Tomlin when he lived. They are the ones who believe the pledge is never ending.”

  “So they decided to attack me?”

  She gave him a look as if to say he was daft. “Not exactly. They intend to attack Tyla and the Nazar once they cross into Nevaisser. They feel they must carry out the remainder of Tomlin’s pledge.”

  “The remainder?”

  “If the Nazar ever had contact with Tyla again, her life was forfeit.”

  Kalas rose to his feet, startling her. She shrank back in her chair. “Don’t the Nazarien know that I will destroy them if they harm my sister?”

  “They know that, but they weigh that possibility against their honor. No Nazarien will choose their fellow Nazarien over their honor. Honor is all we have.”

  “Then why attack him?” asked Attis, motioning with his thumb at Kalas.

  Kalas ignored the lack of respect. He was so stunned by what she told him.

  “These last two attacks have been warnings, nothing more. The Nazarien do not want a war with you, Your Majesty, but they want you to return to Sarkisian. You must not interfere with their mission.”

  “I mustn’t interfere with the murder of my sister?” Kalas moved until he towered over her.

  “Exactly. The attacks will continue until you reach Kazden.”

  “And then what?”

  She met his gaze. “They will stop you from entering the city at all costs.”

  “They will try to kill me?”

  “Likely.”

  Kalas rubbed his eyes with his fingers. “Okay, then why did the last assailant kill himself?”

  “The pact demanded it.”

  “The pact demanded it? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “We took a pact. We were to frighten you, not harm you, and then if we were in danger of being caught, we were to take our own lives, so you could not question us.”

  Kalas leaned down closer to her. “And yet you’re still alive.”

  She struggled to reach into her trousers with the manacles and pulled out a small, narrow vial. Kalas snatched it from her hand and turned, holding it out to Dolan. The Nazarien took it and held it up to the light. It was filled with a clear liquid.

  “I thought you had her searched.”

  “So did I,” answered Dolan.

  Kalas stroked his chin. She was more complicated than he’d given her credit, that was certain. He lowered his hand. “Were you intending to use that?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Do you have difficulty hearing? Why do you keep repeating everything I say?”

  Kalas fought a smile. He didn’t want to be amused by her. She annoyed him. Everything to do with her was a complication. He reached for his chair and sank into it. “Okay, let’s try this again. Why didn’t you commit suicide like your colleague?”

  “Why would I give my life to those dogs? I want no part of them or their order.”

  “And yet you became an assassin for them?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Do you know what life is like for Nazarien women, Your Majesty?” She shuddered. “I was eighteen the first time…” Her voice trailed away. “He was not gentle.”

  Kalas lowered his gaze. He could hear the anger and fear in her voice. It made him remember her reaction when he’d threatened her with Attis before.

  “When they gave me the option of becoming an assassin, I took it.”

  “How many men have you killed?”

  “You were my first target.”

  “But you weren’t supposed to kill me?”

  “No, I was supposed to frighten you.”

  “Then kill yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  Kalas looked toward the tent flap. He could see the increased patrols around his pavilion. They wouldn’t be making any ground through the desert tonight. “Obviously, the Nazarien are watching everything we do.”

  “Yes.”

  “So they know you didn’t complete your mission?”

  “Yes. They will kill me if I return to them.”

  Kalas leaned back in the chair. “This latest assassin had a weapon, yet you didn’t?”

  “I did not want to chance hurting you.”

  “If I turn you loose, where will you go?”

  She glanced at the two Nazarien, then fixed her eyes on Kalas again. “Nowhere. I will stay with you.” She held up the shackles. “Unlock these, give me a weapon, and let me protect you.”

  Kalas laughed. “Do I look stupid?”

  She frowned. “Can a man look stupid? I never considered it.”

  He shook his head in bemusement. “What’s your name, Mediocre Assassin?”

  “Ellette.”

  “Ellette, why would you protect me when you hate the Nazarien?”

  “You have restored peace to Nevaisser. Nothing must happen to you.” She lowered her gaze to the shackles. “Beyond that, I do not want you to declare war on the Nazarien. I hate the order, but they are m
y people and I would not want you to wipe them out.” She met his eye again. “The rogue Nazarien are only a handful. They should not be allowed to destroy the order.”

  Kalas rubbed his forehead. He was getting a headache.

  “Will you release me, give me a weapon?”

  “No, you attacked me. We don’t take such action lightly.”

  “I did not harm you. You need me. I can protect you against the next attack.”

  “How do you know there will be a next attack?”

  “They will not stop, even if you reach Kazden. They will never stop.”

  Kalas closed his eyes. Gods, he hated the Nazarien.

  CHAPTER 7

  The road out of Temeron cut a straight path west into Anatem. From Anatem, one could cross the Rovarn River and head north into Taral or cut south and angle around Mt. Askar headed for the pass through the Grozik Mountains.

  The Stravad party intended to head toward the pass in the Groziks, but first they planned to stop in Anatem and restock their supplies. They pushed hard those first four days, riding long into the night. With the paved road between Temeron and Anatem, they could afford to take such risks, but they knew the road cutting across the Boline Plain was not as well maintained.

  While the warriors Allistar chose were seasoned, Tyla was not, but she never complained. In fact, she spoke little and retired shortly after they made camp to her own tent. Jarrett watched her. She looked well enough, but she wasn’t eating much and she didn’t seem to want any companionship.

  It worried him, but he wasn’t sure if it was her behavior which lay at the root of his concern or his own desire to be close to her again. It frustrated him that she thwarted every effort he made to engage her in conversation, when she had no problem sharing her thoughts with Allistar.

  They entered Anatem in the late afternoon. The townspeople followed them with their eyes. Even in this time of peace, Anatem looked on a band of Stravad with something akin to suspicion. Jarrett’s instincts, honed by the Nazarien, kicked in and he studied the citizens in return, looking for any sign of threat. He wished they could get off the street and quickly.