The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  “Ellette, I could have killed you!” he growled, lowering the knife.

  She pressed a hand to the center of her chest. “I am sorry, Your Majesty. I did not mean to startle you.”

  He settled the knife on the camp table behind him. “What are you doing in my tent?”

  She blinked at him a moment. They were both breathing hard.

  “Ellette, I asked you a question.”

  Her gaze lowered to his bare chest.

  “Dolan!” he shouted.

  The Nazarien ducked beneath the tent flap immediately.

  “Did you know she was in here?” he demanded, pointing at her.

  “Yes, Your Majesty, I saw her slip inside before I could stop her. I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to do.”

  Kalas frowned at him. What the hell did that mean? Then it struck him. He didn’t usually take along camp followers, but he wasn’t a monk either. “I didn’t invite her inside, Dolan.”

  The Nazarien lowered his gaze, clearly uncomfortable.

  Ellette seemed to remember herself. “Oh, no, he did not invite me inside.”

  “Then why are you here, Ellette? I could have killed you.”

  “I want to stay with you. I want to protect you.”

  “We’ve already had this discussion. I don’t want your protection.”

  “Oh, I know that, but I cannot accept it.”

  Kalas exchanged a puzzled look with his second. “What does that mean?”

  “When they gave me this mission, I decided to change it. I intended to make you aware of the danger, then join your entourage as your personal guardian.”

  “But I don’t accept your decision. Your plan only works if I accept it.” He stared at her in bewilderment. She wasn’t stupid and she didn’t seem daft. Why was she so determined about this?

  “Your Majesty, Nazarien are anything if not determined. Your life might depend on you accepting my help.”

  He closed his eyes. “Why me? Why have you decided on me?”

  She didn’t answer him for a moment and he opened his eyes again. She was staring at him with that probing look of hers, the one that saw through him and made him want to squirm. He felt exposed under her gaze and it wasn’t just because he was standing before her half-naked. She saw to the heart of him and oddly enough, he feared she might find him lacking.

  “You have no idea what it is like for women in the Nazarien faith. From the time a girl turns eighteen, she is subject to systematic abuse at the hands of men who claim it is done for the good of the order. There have been no other options for Nazarien women for generations.” She lowered her gaze. “That is how it was for me. I almost died after my first procreation ceremony. But you and especially your sister have made changes to the Nazarien faith. Peace has allowed us time to hone other skills and your sister’s independence has made women in my order rebel.”

  She shook her head. “I am not talking full scale rebellion, but small things…enough things to make the men relent a little. I would never have been able to train as an assassin ten years ago. I owe you that, but more than that, you are Eladrasen. You are the reason our order exists. You must be protected and I have the skills to protect you.”

  He was moved by her story, but it didn’t change his feelings. She’d attacked him. He couldn’t trust someone who had plotted his death, even if it was a warning. “I have soldiers to protect me.”

  She gave him a severe frown. “Yes, they have done marvelous well up until now.”

  Dolan made a noise in his throat.

  Kalas glared at him, but his second was obviously not intimidated. “All right. You can protect me tomorrow. Tonight I want to sleep.”

  “And ‘tis certain the Nazarien will wait until morning before attacking again. Once more you have proven yourself my superior, Your Majesty,” she said.

  Kalas narrowed his eyes on her. She delivered such comments with complete seriousness, but there was a certain quality to her tone. Dolan again made a strange noise.

  “What is it you want, woman?” he commanded.

  “Give me a blanket and I will curl up at the foot of your cot.”

  “You can’t stay with me.”

  She looked around. “I can. There is plenty of room and I do not need much.”

  Kalas looked to Dolan for help.

  “She would be safer in here with you, away from the men.”

  “And you know what the men will be saying tomorrow?”

  “You are King. Why would they dare to discuss your life? You exist so far above them,” she said. Again, such sincerity, damn her. He couldn’t call her on it when she seemed innocent.

  He wagged a finger in her face. “You are manipulating me and I don’t like it.”

  “Let me see you safely to Kazden. If you are displeased with me then, you may dismiss me.” She shot a look over her shoulder at Dolan. “If not, you can add me to your collection of Nazarien.”

  Kalas fought a smile, but it won. He turned away from her in aggravation, but not before he caught the telltale glitter in her eyes. She was enjoying her triumph over him and he hoped he wouldn’t live to regret it.

  * * *

  The barge let them off at the base of the trail. After the horses were unloaded, they made camp under the trees. The next day’s ride would be the most grueling, climbing into the mountains. Since Allistar wouldn’t allow Tyla to have a hand in the labor of setting camp, she retired to her tent.

  Jarrett watched her go, a growing worry gnawing at him. She seemed unusually tired. The barge hadn’t required them to burn any energy and after their failed conversation about the Nazarien, she’d stretched out on the bench and napped the afternoon away. Jarrett had been left to wander up and down the barge until the captain had asked him to stop.

  Now he sat near the fire before his own tent and studied the camp. He couldn’t fault Allistar. Everything moved like a well-oiled machine. The ten Stravad warriors set an efficient site, then five of them at a time patrolled the perimeter, while the other five rested. At midnight, they would switch. With Allistar and the cook contributing their share, they didn’t need him to do anything.

  At a call from the cook, Allistar ducked under the lean-to and took the dish he’d prepared for Tyla. He came back out and strode across the camp to her tent, announcing his entrance at the opening.

  She invited him inside and he disappeared from view. Jarrett tried to tamp down on his annoyance, but it was hard. Even the efficiency of the camp made him feel like a third wheel. He had no place here, was more obstacle than aid, and he wasn’t used to feeling so useless.

  When Allistar ducked back out, Jarrett rose and approached him.

  Allistar halted, offering him a wary look. This further annoyed Jarrett. He wasn’t going to accost the man – lord, they’d been friends in the past. Why was Allistar so intent on making him feel out of place?

  “Did you see her eat?”

  Allistar frowned at him. “Of course not. Why in the world would I do that?”

  “How do you know if she ate?”

  “I assume she’s been feeding herself for a number of years now.”

  “I don’t need snarky Stravad comments and you don’t need to look at me like I’m daft.”

  “Then don’t act daft,” Allistar answered, moving around him.

  “You haven’t noticed how tired she seems? You don’t think that’s odd?”

  Allistar turned back to face him. “I think this conversation is odd.”

  “It just seems to me that someone who declares himself her guardian ought to do a better job of it. If you can’t do it right, maybe I should be the one to take her her meals.”

  “Fine. I didn’t realize your higher ranking made you more equipped to deliver things.” Allistar raked a hand through his blonde hair. “Look, Jarrett, what exactly is your beef with me?”

  “I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job, but the cavalier Stravad attitude is making me nuts.”

  “Cavalier? What th
e hell are you talking about? Are you suggesting that the Nazarien are better at…” He shook his head in confusion. “What exactly, Jarrett? Carrying plates, watching people eat. This conversation is completely asinine.”

  “At least the Nazarien know their duty.”

  Allistar stiffened. The men resting in the camp looked up, feeling the tension. “Don’t school me on my duty, Nazar. I’m not the one who ran out ten years ago.”

  “And I’m not the one betraying my marital vows.”

  Allistar’s eyes widened and he took a step closer until they were chest to chest. “Be careful what you say. I have never forsaken my marital vows. Can you say the same?”

  “I’ve never forsaken mine. Not once in ten years. Nor have I looked at another woman the way you look at my wife.”

  Allistar shoved him. “Take that back.”

  Jarrett moved closer. He was taller, heavier, and they both knew it. “I can’t because we both know it’s true.” He shoved Allistar in return.

  The Stravad stumbled, but when he recovered, he dropped his head and charged his opponent. Jarrett caught him and they grappled, each trying to use his weight to knock the other off his feet. The warriors jumped up and hurried over, shouting encouragement and advice. Even the cook left his fire.

  Jarrett had size on the Stravad, but Allistar was quick and he maneuvered himself into a position where he could hook Jarrett’s foot and unbalance him. They went down together, scrabbling across the ground, wrestling back and forth in the cleared space of the camp.

  Jarrett took an elbow in the nose and a knee to the ribs. He was certain Allistar had received the same punishment in return. He just managed to gain leverage on the Stravad when he felt something wet and cold strike him, hitting him full in the face, causing him to gasp for breath.

  He and Allistar fell away from each other and sprawled in the dust.

  Looking up, he found Tyla standing between them, a bucket in her hands. He wiped the water off his face and blinked the grit out of his eyes.

  Her expression was murderous. “Do this again and I’ll hurt you both!” she shouted at them.

  Allistar dropped his gaze and the other Stravad were shuffling their feet in embarrassment. Jarrett wanted to laugh, but he figured that might be dangerous, considering the emerald was glowing at her throat.

  She threw the bucket on the ground and glared at him, her black curls a wild mane about her shoulders. He was struck with her beauty. “I have no idea what happened here, but if it happens again, I swear there will be blood.”

  Jarrett nodded, then felt something trickle onto his upper lip. He lifted his hand and pressed it against his nose. His fingers came back red. She shifted her glare to Allistar. “Do you understand me?”

  He nodded sheepishly. In the light of the campfire, Jarrett could see his left eye was swelling.

  “Idiots!” Tyla hissed, turning her back on them and moving toward her tent. Then she disappeared inside.

  Jarrett curled an arm around his bruised ribs and hauled himself to his feet. Holding out a hand, he helped Allistar up. They leaned against each other for a moment, then parted. The rest of the Stravad returned to their bedrolls.

  “I’m sorry,” Jarrett said.

  Allistar fingered his eye. “So am I.” He motioned at Jarrett’s nose. “Did I break it?”

  “I don’t think so, but you’ll probably have a black eye tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. Should we talk about it?”

  Jarrett shrugged, rubbing his shirt sleeve beneath his nose. “Probably not.”

  “I don’t have designs on Tyla, Jarrett.”

  Jarrett sighed, then regretted it. His ribs ached. “I know that.” He lifted his shirt and fingered the sore spot. “I think you cracked some ribs.”

  Allistar put his arm around Jarrett’s shoulders and turned him toward his campfire. “I’ve got some Trendarian brandy that might help.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  They hobbled away, side by side, the previous fight forgotten.

  * * *

  Ellette angled her horse in beside Kalas. Around them rose the hills that marked the boundary between the desert and the ocean. Beach grass grew out of the sand and the far off roar of the surf reached them. They couldn’t see Kazden, but they were close. By nightfall they should make the gate.

  Without warning, Ellette reached over and grabbed Kalas’ reins, hauling back. Confused, their horses hesitated, giving Ellette enough time to bring her mount in front of Kalas, blocking him. The soldiers behind him had to stop quickly so they didn’t collide.

  Kalas wrenched his reins free. “What the hell are you doing?”

  She was an excellent rider. Her horse obeyed without question. “Please listen to reason.”

  Attis and Dolan halted as well, turning around to watch the exchange.

  Kalas exhaled. He was hot and hungry, and tired. It was impossible to sleep at night, knowing she was lying a few feet away. “Woman, you try my patience.”

  She motioned around them. “You are exposed here. We are hours out of Kazden, so they will strike soon. You make a perfect target on horseback and they have ample places to hide among these hills.”

  Dolan edged his horse closer. “She has a point.”

  “Which is what? I shouldn’t ride my horse? You think walking will be safer?”

  “No, you can ride in the wagon where you stashed me before,” she said. “That way the soldiers can surround you and you will not be visible.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m not riding in a wagon.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” offered Attis.

  Kalas looked at his second. He knew Dolan would understand a King’s dignity would never allow such a situation.

  “It would make me feel better,” Dolan said. “Right now the most important thing is to get you into Kazden alive.”

  “You’ve all gone mad.”

  She gave him a speculative look. “Please, Your Majesty, listen to reason. It is not far.”

  “I’m not riding in a wagon, Ellette. That’s stupid.”

  “If they kill you, what help will you be to your sister?”

  Kalas tilted his head. He never remembered hearing that Nazarien were such manipulators before, but then he’d never met many female Nazarien. This one knew what buttons to push with him and she had no qualms about pushing them.

  She went still. Kalas didn’t think she was even looking at him any longer. He leaned forward, trying to reach for his reins, but she suddenly glanced around, searching the hills around them. Kalas felt a shiver of foreboding roll over him.

  She whipped back around, her eyes wide, her expression anxious. “Please, Your Majesty, do as I ask. Do not question it any longer.”

  Kalas exchanged a look with Dolan. Dolan appeared as alarmed as he was. Kalas scanned the hills himself, but he saw no movement. Not that he’d seen anything before they burned the supply wagon two days ago.

  Damn it all, he didn’t want to ride in a wagon like a peasant. He was King and a king always rode his own mount. Still, there was something odd about Ellette’s behavior and when he thought about it, he had to admit she’d rarely been wrong.

  “Fine!” he snapped. “I’ll ride in the damn wagon.” He swung his leg over the saddle, preparing to drop to the ground. At the same moment, something came whistling through the air. He had no time to duck or jump back to avoid it. It slammed into his shoulder, knocking him back off the horse. He impacted with the ground, the air knocked out of him, and he lay stunned, gasping for breath.

  Black spots danced in his peripheral vision and he blinked to clear them. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t breathe, then with a searing pain, he felt his lungs fill. He gulped in air and closed his eyes, fighting for each shallow breath.

  He was aware of people dropping all around him, sprawling on the ground beside him. He opened his eyes and looked up the long shaft of an arrow into Dolan’s panicked gaze. He could hear shouts and caught flashes of frantic motion, b
ut he focused on Dolan to the exclusion of all else. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. Suddenly Ellette’s face filled his sight. Her hands reached for the arrow’s shaft, but Dolan shoved her away.

  “What are you doing? We have to get him in the wagon and take him to a healer in Kazden!” shouted his second.

  “And what if the arrow is poisoned?” shouted Ellette in return.

  Kalas was surprised at how clear his thoughts were. She made a good point. It very well could be poisoned. “Remove it, Dolan,” he said, gritting his teeth. Until now, breathing had been his primary concern, but a burning pain was radiating across the right side of his chest.

  Dolan stared at him, his eyes enormous. He opened and closed his mouth, but no sound came out. Kalas didn’t understand what was wrong. If he couldn’t trust Dolan, who could he trust?

  Attis appeared over his shoulder, shoving the older Nazarien out of the way. “I’ll do it.”

  He grasped the arrow and before Kalas could prepare himself, he yanked.

  An involuntary cry tore from Kalas’ throat and he arched his back. Black spots danced across his eyes and nausea rose inside of him. He fought it back, but a buzzing in his head drowned out all other considerations.

  He felt himself being lifted and carried. Then he was lowered onto a soft surface and a cool hand was brushing the hair from his forehead. He couldn’t find the energy to open his eyes, but gradually, the buzzing was fading.

  A weight pressed against his wounded shoulder and he wanted to push it away, but he didn’t have the strength. Carefully he opened his eyes and stared up into Ellette’s face. He was struck by the way her cheek glowed a bronze on the outside, but a richer gold beneath, and the darkness of her lashes. As always, her hair nearly covered one eye. She’d tied it in a knot at the nape of her neck, but tangled, unruly wisps escaped. In the sunlight, they looked almost blond.

  “You will be all right, Your Majesty,” she said.

  He realized he was lying with his head in her lap. She had her left hand pressed against his shoulder. A moan escaped him as the wagon lurched forward, causing her to tighten her hold. He tried to remember what had happened. Someone had said something about poison. Had he been poisoned? He couldn’t tell.