The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  Halfway there, Talar stopped her. “You came all this way?”

  She looked at him and felt her heart sink. She hadn’t told him how far it was because she was afraid he’d refuse to come, but now he looked like he might just walk away again. She caught his hand. It was warm with calluses along the fingertips. She tried to ignore what touching him did to her equilibrium.

  “Please don’t go. I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

  He covered her hand with his other one and gave her a smile. “I’m still coming. I’m just wondering if we shouldn’t hitch a ride.”

  She blinked at that and released him. She’d never gotten a ride before. Sometimes men pulled up alongside her as she walked and offered her things she’d rather not think about, but she’d never hailed a ride for herself before.

  He stepped into the street and held up a hand. To her surprise, a large, red headed man in a wagon pulled over to the side and sat blinking at them. Kaelene didn’t move, she was so surprised by the man’s actions.

  “We need a ride to…” Talar hesitated and held out a hand to her.

  She didn’t immediately answer.

  “What street do you live on?” he asked patiently.

  “Foam. Way at the end.”

  “Foam Street.”

  “That’s clear the other side of town,” grumbled the man.

  Talar tilted back his head, looking up at the man. “And you’ll be paid for your time.”

  The man didn’t argue, just motioned to the back of the wagon. Talar took Kaelene’s arm and led her around the rear wheel, then he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her onto the back, her legs dangling over the side. She tried to ignore the thrill that coursed through her at his touch, but a moment later, he vaulted up beside her, sitting so close, she was awash in his clean scent.

  The man clicked his tongue at the horses and the wagon rumbled off. Kaelene frowned at her clasped hands. She’d never thought to ask for a ride before, but Talar had secured one with very little effort.

  “I’m confused,” she told him, kicking her legs back and forth. “Why is this man giving us a ride?”

  “Because I asked him to,” responded her companion, then he gave her a wink. “Sometimes people do what I ask if I ask very nicely.” The weight of his words registered and her eyes widened. He used his Stravad abilities to persuade the man.

  They arrived at Mrs. Tanis’ boarding house quicker than Kaelene had ever gone. Talar jumped from the back of the wagon and handed her down, then he gave the man something and the man drove away.

  Mrs. Tanis met them on the front porch. She was a round little woman, inclined to laughter. When she laughed, her eyes squinted up so much she could hardly see out of them. Her brown hair was always neatly gathered in a bun and secured to the top of her head, and she wore an embroidered apron over her plain housedress.

  Today she wasn’t smiling.

  Kaelene felt her heart sink.

  “I tried to take your mother some broth, but she didn’t answer the door and didn’t answer my knock. I peeked into the room, but I couldn’t see anything around the covers piled over the bed.”

  Kaelene blanched, then hurried up the steps and into the pleasant boarding house. A few boarders looked up from their spots in the living room, but Kaelene ignored them, rushing for the stairs. She ran up to the top landing, then turned left and sprinted to the end of the hall, pushing open the door.

  The room was dark and a strange scent met Kaelene’s nose. She hesitated in the middle of the room, unable to approach the bed, unable to make herself move forward at all. It felt as if her feet were rooted to the floor.

  Talar entered the room behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, then he eased around her immobile form and approached the bed, bending over the figure beneath the mound of covers. Kaelene’s heart crowded her throat, making breathing difficult as he reached out a hand and touched her mother at the throat.

  Then he lowered his head and Kaelene knew. She just knew.

  Her mother was gone.

  * * *

  Night had fallen and a chill crept into the air. Kaelene sat on the porch of Mrs. Tanis’ boarding house, unable to go back into that room, unable to face what she knew she’d find. Emptiness.

  The undertaker had come and gone, taking Mother with him. Talar had gone with him. Kaelene didn’t have any money to pay for a funeral, but Talar had assured her he’d take care of it. She didn’t know how he planned to do that, but she was too numb to protest.

  Mrs. Tanis hugged her against her ample bosom, while the undertaker removed Mother’s body, then she promised to clean the room for her. Kaelene didn’t care. There was no one left for her in the world. Mother had been all she’d had for so long.

  Stepping out onto the porch, Mrs. Tanis draped a blanket over Kaelene’s shoulders. “Come inside, dear. The room’s cleaned. I put new bedding on the bed for you.”

  “I can’t.” Kaelene didn’t even bother to grasp the blanket, she just stared out at the street. “I don’t think I can go back into that room ever again.”

  “You have to, dear. I don’t have another room to give you.”

  Kaelene closed her eyes. She hadn’t cried. She didn’t want to cry. In fact, she was afraid that if she did give in and cry, she’d break apart into a million pieces, blowing away with the next breeze. “I just want to sit here for a while, Mrs. Tanis, please. Just let me sit here.”

  “Of course, dear. Can I get you some supper? Something warm to drink?”

  Kaelene shook her head, watching the wagons rumble past the boarding house. “I just want to sit.”

  Mrs. Tanis patted her shoulder awkwardly and returned to the house. Kaelene sat and shivered and watched the traffic roll past, trying to keep her thoughts from centering on the very thing she knew she couldn’t handle.

  A tan horse with a dark mane stopped before the boarding house. Kaelene focused on it as a man in a dark cloak dropped to the ground and let the reins trail over the animal’s head, then the figure turned to the gate and opened it, striding up the walk.

  Despite her numbness, Kaelene recognized the silent, fluid walk, the dark cloak, the hooded features. A thrill raced up her spine as Talar stopped on the bottom step and glanced up at her, the lantern Mrs. Tanis had left her shining on his perfect features.

  “It’s too cold to sit outside,” he said, climbing the stairs and taking a seat on the top one. It brought him within touching distance of Kaelene’s blanket-covered knees.

  “I can’t go back in there,” she whispered.

  “No, I suppose not.” He braced his forearms on his thighs and sat contemplating the street as she’d been doing.

  “What’s going to happen with my mother...my mother’s body?”

  “I wasn’t sure whether you wanted her interred like a Human, buried in the cemetery, or cremated as the Nazarien would do.”

  “She walked away from the Nazarien long ago,” said Kaelene. “Buried, but I don’t have the money for the burial.” She curled her hands around her stomach and hunched over. The loss, the emptiness, was like a physical ache inside of her.

  “It’s taken care of.” He lifted his face to her, but his eyes didn’t quite meet her own.

  “How? I can’t repay you. I can’t take charity like this.”

  “From one past Nazarien to another,” he said, motioning at the medallions in his left ear. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “I’ll find a way to repay you.”

  “You already have. Meeting another recovering Nazarien is payment enough.”

  She felt a smile touch her lips.

  “So what are you going to do? Especially since you can’t go back inside.” He motioned to the boarding house.

  Kaelene didn’t answer for a moment, just sat and stared at her hands.

  He shifted to face her. “There’s a room where I’m staying. You could take that.”

  “I do work for Mrs. Tanis to pay for our room now. I don’t have m
oney to pay for another room.”

  “Then come work in the hospital with me. Can you cook? They always need someone in the kitchens.”

  “I can cook.” She felt a rush of excitement at his words. Working at the hospital would keep her close to him.

  “Then, I’ll loan you your first week’s rent…”

  “I can’t do that.” Kaelene wrung her hands. Mother had made it very clear what happened to young women when they couldn’t pay their own way. She’d wanted more for Kaelene. She’d left the Nazarien to protect her from men and their advancements.

  Kaelene couldn’t meet his gaze. His charisma wasn’t lost on her, his looks definitely created strange feelings inside of her, but she had to honor Mother’s wishes. She had to find a way to live without relying on men.

  They’ll take everything from you, Kaelene, and leave you with child, Mother had always said. It didn’t escape Kaelene’s notice that Mother spoke from experience. She’d been left with a girl child at a very young age, something not desirable among the male-dominated Nazarien.

  Talar reached out and clasped her hands, even though she suspected he couldn’t see. “Kaelene, whatever you think I want, you’re wrong. I only want to help you. It’ll be a loan, nothing more. You can’t sleep on this porch, now can you? Please accept my offer for what it is. I have no other motive in mind.”

  She stared into his beautiful features and realized it didn’t matter. The moment she’d seen him she knew she wanted this man in her life. There was just something about him, something so compelling that no amount of scolding from her mother could make her turn away.

  CHAPTER 1

  Lyell Vito was the First Advisor to the King of Dorland. Lyell Vito had been the First Advisor since the present King had appointed him seven years earlier. Despite the King’s growing unpopularity among the masses and even in his own court, Lyell Vito remained loyal to him. In fact, Lyell Vito often said that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his King. Even death wasn’t too great a sacrifice.

  Lyell Vito loved the King of Dorland.

  To be more specific, he thought of the King as his son, although he’d never say such a thing out loud. The present King’s father, who had also reigned as King before him, paid little attention to his three sons, and then he’d died before any of them had come of age.

  Lord Alton Cerik had been an excellent monarch. He’d held his kingdom with a firm hand. Dorland had grown prosperous under his rule and peace had reigned in a land that had known a long history of war and strife. The people loved Lord Alton and mourned for an entire year after his death.

  Yet while Lord Alton had been an excellent monarch, he’d been a negligent father. All the qualities that made him a supreme ruler failed him with his own children. The Queen had died during the birth of their youngest son, Alasdair, and the King had dealt with his grief by ignoring his sons.

  The oldest son, Adison, became cruel and vicious. Early on, it was evident to the King’s advisors that he would never make a king. The only thing that kept Adison from being banished for his brutal nature was his laziness and ineptitude. He was cunning and often conned others into doing disgraceful acts, but no one could ever prove he was the ring leader; therefore, more often than not, he went unpunished. Despite tradition, the royal advisors knew that to appoint Adison to the throne would, in essence, condone increasing acts of cruelty at his hands.

  Alasdair, the youngest, was the opposite of his eldest brother. He was quiet and reserved by nature. He loved books, particularly folklore, and studied many languages in the isolation of his private chambers. Alasdair was also sickly due to his unfortunate birth and unable to lead the hearty, robust lives of his two oldest brothers. No one had ever considered Alasdair for the throne. Everyone in the kingdom knew Alasdair wouldn’t have survived his first year.

  These unfortunate circumstances left only Aiden, the middle son, to take the throne upon his father’s death. Aiden wasn’t educated like Alasdair, nor was he manipulative like Adison. Aiden enjoyed the pleasures of nature – hunting, hiking, camping – anything that kept him away from the confines of the castle and away from his negligent father.

  Many of the townspeople were surprised to hear the throne had passed, by royal decree, to Aiden. Aiden hadn’t even been present in Dorland to attend his father’s funeral. Most of the townspeople forgot Alton even had a middle son, but Aiden quickly made his presence known.

  Aiden was not a good King. He didn’t want to be King, he didn’t like being King, and he knew he wasn’t skilled at it either. Perhaps the wisest thing Aiden did was appoint Lyell Vito as his First Advisor. Lyell would have been a very skilled King, but his bloodline flowed in the wrong direction, away from the throne.

  Now as Lyell paused outside of Aiden’s royal quarters, he rehearsed the speech he would give the King. Aiden was late for hearings again. Aiden was usually late for all the duties of his office, despite Lyell’s repeated admonishments.

  Drawing a weary breath, he rapped on the door three times. There was no answer. Placing his left ear to the door, Lyell listened. A muffled voice rose on the other side. Straightening to his full height, Lyell rapped again with added force.

  The door was thrown open and Lyell stepped back in surprise as the muffled voice burst forth with clarity. Everard, the King’s personal valet, glared at Lyell, his neck veins bulging, his face red. Lyell lifted an eyebrow in interest.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Everard’s eyes widened. “His Lordship declines my assistance. His Lordship informed me that he would no longer be utilizing my services. His Lordship has dismissed me.”

  Lyell drew a patient breath. Every day he was faced with Everard’s dismissal. He found himself wondering if for once His Lordship might not be so difficult, or if once Everard wouldn’t respond with such angst.

  “His Lordship is mistaken. He will be in need of your services for a good while longer. I’m sure you misunderstood his intent.”

  Everard narrowed his eyes. How could he disagree? To suggest that His Lordship had been in error was to risk a hanging and Lyell knew this. It anguished Everard to admit he’d misunderstood the King, but Lyell had him trapped.

  “Would you be so kind as to ask His Lordship for clarification?” said Everard with a forced smile.

  Lyell’s round, dark eyes shifted to Aiden’s back as he sat facing the window. He crossed the plush carpet and paused behind His Lordship. Aiden didn’t look up, Aiden didn’t acknowledge him, but Lyell was a tolerant man.

  “Your Highness, the royal valet requests clarification of your command.”

  Aiden lifted his head and regarded Lyell silently. Lyell stood stiff at attention and accepted the scrutiny. “Lyell...” the King began, but Lyell cleared his throat in warning.

  Aiden narrowed his eyes. “First Advisor,” he said, correcting himself purposefully, “do you believe we’ll receive any rain today?”

  Lyell broke the first rule of advisorship and royal servitude. He looked down at Aiden with astonishment. Behind him, Everard closed his eyes in disgust, but made no comment. Quickly Lyell recovered his composure and turned on his heels to face the royal valet. “Sir Everard, it seems your services will in fact be unnecessary today; however, I expect to see you at your post first thing tomorrow.”

  Everard closed his gaping mouth, then pulled himself up with dignity. “As you wish, First Advisor,” he said. Turning on his heel, he left the room and pulled the double doors closed behind him.

  Pursing his lips, Lyell took a seat in the window, facing Aiden. For a long time he stared at his hands, turning them every which way in the bright sunlight. Finally he clasped them and dropped them in his lap.

  “Aiden, you really must stop tormenting your servants in this manner. It upsets the status quo, unsettles the castle, and disturbs the kingdom. You really mustn’t disturb the kingdom anymore, Aiden. They aren’t overly fond of you.”

  Aiden’s eyes were piercing, a fact that troubled anyone who came in
contact with him. The people of Dorland believed that to look another directly in the eye, or to study them intently, was to show ill breeding and disrespect. Aiden’s habit, or so Lyell considered it, did not make him any more popular with his people. In fact, most subjects and servants alike trembled at the thought of appearing before him and withstanding one of his penetrating looks.

  “Must you stare at me, Aiden?” said Lyell.

  Aiden blinked, then looked down. “I’m sorry, Lyell...”

  “You ought to learn how to control that dreadful habit. Against your enemies I’ll grant it’s very effective, but you mustn’t make enemies out of your own people.”

  “I’m sorry,” said the King again.

  Lyell drew a deep breath. “You shouldn’t dismiss the royal valet every single day, either. It shows ill breeding.”

  “I don’t like him. I don’t like him to dress me. I can dress myself.”

  “But it isn’t seemly, Aiden,” interrupted Lyell.

  Aiden rose to his feet with a heavy sigh and turned his back on his First Advisor. “Is this why you came to see me?”

  Lyell pursed his lips again. “No, you’re late for hearings, you’re always late for hearings.”

  Aiden turned and rested his hands on the back of his chair, carefully avoiding eye contact with Lyell as agreed. “I’m tired of hearings, I’m tired of dressing, I’m tired of being seemly, I’m tired of this castle.”

  “You’re acting like an indulgent child. I don’t like this side of you, Aiden, nor would your father. Come now, pull yourself together, and act like the King you were born to be.”

  Aiden didn’t respond, but simply shut his eyes.

  Lyell grimaced. This was certainly going to be one of those difficult times. Aiden wasn’t a good King, but worse still, he was a reluctant King. All of the royal advisors and servants knew Aiden shouldn’t be King, but they knew Adison and Alasdair shouldn’t be even more so. As he thought of Adison, Lyell clutched at an idea.

  “Would you have Adison grant hearings instead?”

  Aiden’s head snapped up. “What?”