The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  Adison put the book back on the shelf and rubbed his damp palms on his pants. Squaring his shoulders, he stalked out of the library and pulled the door shut behind him.

  In the brightly lit hallway, he felt immediately better, but the mysterious, dusky scent of the book still lingered on him. Eldon’s star, he wanted a stiff draught of ale or something even stronger to chase away the crawling sensation sliding up and down his spine, causing his fingers to twitch and curl.

  Lifting a trembling hand, he snaked it through his dense, tangled brown curls, surprised to find a sheen of perspiration on his forehead. Damn, why was he letting everything send him into a paroxysm of fear? Aiden was gone, probably dead. He was King. No one in a week had questioned him...except Carona, but who believed women?

  Except he could see it in their eyes – the horrible, blank suspicion. He could hang every last one of them, but that look would still be etched in his dreams. Worse, he didn’t know what communication was going on behind his back. Everyone in the kingdom and, he suspected, outside of it knew he couldn’t read. Were they plotting behind his back, sending written messages back and forth, then giving him inane excuses that he couldn’t refute?

  He stormed down the hallways, servants scattering as he went. He found Lyell Vito in his private office just outside the hearing chamber. The older man looked up in surprise, then dropped his eyes again as was proper, but not before Adison saw that look once more. Damn, but he’d like to strangle the old codger.

  “Where’s my brother Alasdair, Lyell?”

  Lyell tapped the edge of his quill against his lips. “Your brother hasn’t been feeling well since the disappearance of his King. He’s taken to his bed and refuses to leave, even to tend the library.”

  “Oh, I’ve been to that bedamned library. There are books lying about everywhere. Send someone to clean it out.”

  “Impossible! That library’s Alasdair’s domain and I wouldn’t know where to begin. No, I’ll not disturb it. It’s as it should be and if not, then Alasdair knows what must be done. I’ve yet to look for something and not find it.”

  Adison opened his mouth to protest, to rant and scream, and finally hound Lyell into agreeing, but he needed to see Alasdair more. “So my brother’s in his private chambers?”

  “Yes,” said the advisor without looking up. He returned to checking his figures and adding new ones. Adison waited a moment, wanting acceptance, but he knew he wouldn’t get it.

  He left Lyell’s office in an even worse humor. The long walk to Alasdair’s private chambers only fueled his temper. Why had Aiden allowed Alasdair to room so far away from the rest of the family? He had an entire wing off to himself, a wing that backed up to the library. Adison knew quite well why Alasdair wanted it. It permitted him to come and go without being stopped by anyone and forced into an awkward conversation. Aiden had been the only one to seek out Alasdair’s company, the only one Alasdair entertained. Even so, Aiden had always come to Alasdair, had always given in to his unbalanced whims – never the other way around. It was just another link in the chain of hatred Adison toted about regarding his missing brother.

  He didn’t stop to knock on Alasdair’s door as would seem appropriate. He thrust it open, much as he had the library door, and it too careened off the wall and shuddered closed. Alasdair started and looked up, then turned back to the window, watching the sun setting over the castle and the lands beyond.

  “I looked for you in the library,” said Adison, grinding his teeth.

  Alasdair sighed. “I haven’t been in the library in days.”

  Adison strode across the room and stopped beside his brother, his fingers twitching into fists. Alasdair shifted, his eyes coming to rest on his brother’s feet.

  “The library’s a disaster. I couldn’t find anything.”

  Alasdair flickered a glance up at Adison’s face. He seemed even more pale and gaunt than Adison remembered, but truth be told, Adison hadn’t seen his youngest brother since last Valhall when they’d all taken supper together in the main dining room. Even Carona had attended then.

  “You can’t read, Adison.” It was stated so simply, so honestly, Adison shouldn’t have taken offense, but it reminded him of the purpose for this humbling visit.

  “One pathetic invalid in this family is enough!” he shouted. “Aiden coddled you far too long. I demand that you pull yourself together and return to the library at first light tomorrow! You’ve never been good for much, but that bedamned library is the one thing you do know! Tend it or I swear in Eldon’s name, I’ll set fire to it myself!”

  Alasdair looked up again, blinking in horror, then his features waxed into nothingness. “Do what you will, Adison. I tended the library for Aiden, not myself. Since his disappearance, I can’t bear to set foot inside it.”

  Adison’s eyes bulged. If he didn’t get something his way and soon, he was going to commit murder or have a seizure. Clenching his jaw and tightening his fists until his nails dug into his palms, he gritted out, “I want you to teach me to read.”

  Alasdair looked at him fully now, stared at him through his huge, glassy eyes. “You what?”

  “You heard me!”

  “You want to read?”

  “I need to read. What I want is for someone in this bedamned kingdom to do what I command of them!” He leaned close to his brother, stabbing a single finger in his chest. “Don’t you dare think of claiming you’re too ill! I will be taught to read and you will do the teaching! I don’t care if it kills you in the process!”

  Alasdair shrank away from him, lowering his eyes to about midway in Adison’s chest. “All right,” he said softly, so softly Adison didn’t really hear him, but rather than risk a heart attack, he nodded and accepted his brother’s response as acquiescence. It didn’t really matter either way. Alasdair would follow his orders or else.

  “Tomorrow morning then!”

  Alasdair nodded.

  Adison straightened and drew a short breath. Hell, one victory. It cost him, but he’d gotten that much. From now on he’d offer no quarter to anyone. It was going to be his way or let those who opposed him pay the price. He permitted himself a small, triumphant smile. Yes, from now on it was going to be all his way!

  * * *

  Adison slammed his chamber door and crossed the room. His fingers closed over the thin curtains around his bed and he yanked them back. The young girl sitting on the edge whimpered in fear and scampered into the center of the bed. His eyes narrowed and a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

  She was terrified and she ought to be. He had a full night planned for her and none of it took into consideration that she was most likely a virgin. He’d seen her in the hearing chamber with her father, a lowly merchant in Dorland, and he’d known he would have her.

  A week since Aiden’s disappearance and Adison was already teaching everyone the meaning of his kingship. He would not be opposed, he would not be denied, and he would not be refused.

  Oh, her father and then her mother had pleaded with him, offered him their lives in return for their daughter’s virtue, but their appeals had only fueled his appetite. And it helped that she was pretty and unused.

  He must bed Carona eventually, but it wouldn’t be half so pleasant and he knew there would be great opposition to that. Until such time as it became unavoidable, he would slake his need on his subjects’ virgin daughters.

  “You be a good girl and maybe you’ll get a gold piece for your time.”

  She stared at him in undiluted horror. His smile widened. Oh yes, he was going to enjoy this. Tonight marked a new phase of his reign. Aiden and even his father before him had been servants of Dorland, but that wasn’t as it should be. No, they had the order all wrong. The King was above his subjects, so then shouldn’t he get full use and enjoyment out of them? His father and brother hadn’t been too proud to accept taxes. This was a sort of tax and he intended to exercise it freely.

  What made this victory even more sweet was the fac
t that Lyell Vito had been appalled and horrified by his intentions. He’d gone so far as to threaten to leave. Well, Adison had put a stop to that. He’d made certain Vito knew he was a dead man if he even thought about it again. And as for Vito’s assurance that the people of Dorland would never allow such an atrocity to be committed, Adison would prove him wrong in that also. When faced with higher taxes and imprisonment for not paying, they’d succumbed to even the most unsettling of arrangements.

  His eyes travelled over the scantily clad girl. Lifting his hands he began unbuttoning his shirt. “Take your clothes off,” he commanded.

  Her eyes grew even larger, her entire body trembling violently. She didn’t obey him.

  No matter, he’d show her who was her King and then he’d remove the clothes himself. He wasn’t opposed to a little rough handling. Slipping out of his shirt and tossing it aside, he reached for her, placing one knee on the bed. She scrambled away, off the bed, and huddled in the corner, drawing the curtain around her. Now Adison felt his anger boil.

  Playing coy was one thing, but he didn’t have time for this. He needed to see Alasdair for his reading lesson.

  “I command you to come here at once,” he said, fixing his fists on his hips. “If you don’t, I promise you’ll be sorry you were ever born.”

  He caught the faint sound of her sobbing, but she didn’t move away from the curtain. Grinding his jaw, he stomped around the bed and headed for her. The curtains were trembling and her sobs were becoming louder, more hysterical. Just when he was within distance, his door was thrown open.

  He turned, his face flushed with fury, to see Lyell Vito standing in the doorway. If he hadn’t been flanked by guards, he’d have been a dead man. The advisor’s eyes flickered between the hiding girl and Adison.

  “What do you want!” shouted Adison, surprising himself with his own rage.

  “I must speak with you at once.”

  “It had better be of dire importance, Vito, or I swear you’re a dead man!”

  For the first time ever, the advisor met Adison’s hate-filled look. “Oh, I assure you it is most dire, Your Majesty.” The last was said with such contempt, the words fairly dripped with it.

  Adison cast a glance over his shoulder, then moved a few steps closer to his advisor. “Be quick about it, man!”

  “You’d have me speak here, in front of others?” He motioned to the curtains.

  Adison’s jaw ground. “Meet me in the hearing chamber,” he commanded, stalking around the bed to retrieve his discarded shirt. He thrust his arms through and then headed for the door. “Get rid of the girl.”

  Was he mistaken or did he see a look of relief pass over the older man’s face? Even the guards seemed to be bristling with scorn.

  He made his way to the hearing chamber, his scowl causing the servants to scurry and flutter about anxiously. He commanded a glass of ale be brought to him and slumped down in his throne, completely at odds with himself. He should have beheaded that presumptuous fool for barging in on him. What if the little whore hadn’t been so afraid and he’d been in the midst of taking his pleasure? Wouldn’t that have been a compromising position for a King?

  His eyes travelled over the tapestry of the dragon and warrior. Well, if this didn’t prove to be dire (and his idea of dire just became a little more specific), Vito was as good as dead. He’d behead him right here in the hearing chamber and then feed his diseased body to Aiden’s black swans. And dire now meant something on the proportion of Eldon’s second coming.

  Vito shuffled into the hearing chamber a moment later, his face flushed and damp. Behind him came the rest of the court retainers. Adison’s eyes narrowed. It must be rather important to call all these old sots from their beds.

  He leaned forward. “What is it, old man?”

  Lyell folded his hands before him in a gesture that almost had Adison out of his seat, his fingers tightening around his sword. “The King of Eastern Nevaisser, Kalas Eldralin, will be in Dorland tomorrow morning.”

  Adison slumped back in his chair – not the second coming of Eldon, but damned close. Well, it seemed Vito would keep his head after all, clever old goat.

  “He what?”

  Vito drew a long suffering sigh and spoke as slowly as he might to a child. “He’ll be arriving in Dorland tomorrow morning to check on the affairs of the kingdom.” He shot a loathing glance at Adison. “Seems he had a meeting in Chernow and was told about Dorland’s misfortune. He comes to offer his aid.”

  “What right does Talar Eldralin’s bastard have to oversee us!” shouted Adison, his fingers gripping the arms of his chair.

  “Kalas Eldralin has worked long to restore peace between Sarkisian and Dorland. It isn’t likely that he’ll turn his back and allow anyone to bring this kingdom to its knees. He has the power to take control and with public opinion shying away from the local government, he’ll likely do anything he can to set things to rights.” Vito cast a baleful eye on the temporary King. “This doesn’t bode well, Adison, and you know it.”

  A muscle bulged on his jaw. “Tomorrow morning? Why wasn’t I made aware of this long before the bastard arrived at my gate?”

  “Perhaps it is an issue you would rather take up with Lord Kalas yourself. We received word of his arrival only moments ago.”

  Adison tilted his head. “Moments, eh?” Convenient how this announcement had interrupted Adison’s entertainment for the night. He sat back and drew a calming breath, though it did little good. His entire insides had gone liquid at the thought of Talar Eldralin’s bastard. Just as well that the girl was on her way back to her mother and father, he didn’t think it likely he’d have strength to deflower her until the bastard was on his way home again. “Well,” he said, stroking his stubbled chin, “I suppose we ought to make preparations.”

  He rose to his feet and stalked off the dais. He brought himself so close to his advisor that the man was forced to take a step back. Neither looked at each other, but the tension between them was palpable to everyone in the room.

  “See that everything is put to right, Court Advisor. I’m retiring so that I can make a presentable figure on the morrow.”

  Lyell’s eyes flashed up to Adison’s face. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I certainly am,” said Adison. He sidestepped his advisor and headed for the door, but before he’d gone a half dozen paces, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Do make certain Talar Eldralin’s bastard finds no cause to leave a garrison in Dorland. If that happens, I’ll have someone’s head and it won’t be mine.”

  Lyell turned, narrowing his eyes. “Should the Lord Kalas see the need for a garrison, no doubt you will not be of any concern to anyone. Idle threats make for weak Kings, Adison…” The weighted pause brought Adison completely around. “...but then you aren’t King, are you?”

  Adison’s fingers closed into fists. You’re a dead man, Vito, once that bedamned spawn of Eldon’s is gone. Somehow Adison mustered enough control to turn back around and stride for the door. When he reached the hallway, Lyell’s voice called after him.

  “Sleep well, my King.”

  And Adison knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t.

  * * *

  Adison did find sleep, only to be brought awake by the pressure of something pressing against his throat, cutting off his oxygen. He flailed and struck out, but as his sleep-addled brain cleared, he realized someone was holding him down with a forearm across his windpipe.

  He went slack, hoping to throw the attacker off, but the attacker moved, hauling him out of bed and dumping him on the floor. He scrambled back against the wall beneath his bedroom window.

  The curtains around the bed parted and a man hunkered down in front of him. By the moonlight streaming through the windows, he could make out well-proportioned features, short-cropped pale hair, and brilliant blue eyes. Nazarien.

  “We had a deal,” said his assailant. “And it was so simple. I give you the means and you dispose of your brother
, setting yourself up as King.”

  “I did as you said,” breathed Adison, recognizing the gravelly voice. He glanced around for something to cover his nakedness. He didn’t like feeling vulnerable like this. “Halish, I did exactly as you instructed.”

  “The slavers you hired botched the job.”

  “What? Is my brother free? They assured me he wouldn’t get free, that they’d imprison him until his spirit was broken, then kill him. That was what I paid them to do.”

  “They attacked a squad of Nazarien outside of Tirsbor and abducted a woman, a very important woman.” Halish leaned close, his breath warm against Adison’s face. “That wasn’t part of our deal.”

  Adison frowned at this. What did Nazarien care about women? They used them as breeders, nothing more. He’d always admired it, truth be told. “I don’t understand.”

  Halish slammed his hand against the wall by Adison’s head, causing Adison to flinch. “She was the sister of a very important Nazarien. Now the brother’s gone missing. That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  Adison shook his head. He was so confused. “Can I get dressed? Light the lamp? I can’t think straight like this.”

  Halish rose to his feet and backed up, allowing Adison to scramble for the bed and snatch up his robe, slipping it on, then he eased around the Nazarien warrior and lit the lamp. He realized he was trembling as he faced the other man again.

  “I should kill you for this,” growled Halish.

  Adison set the lamp on a table by his chair and sank into it. He motioned to the other chair across from him, directly in front of the empty fireplace. “Please have a seat.”

  If Halish sat, Adison would be closer to the door and help, but instead Halish walked to the window and looked out. His black clothes blended perfectly with the night. “Now, Kalas Eldralin’s involved.”

  “Well...” Adison held up a hand. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  Halish whipped around. “No! I wanted to destabilize the region, not bring Eldralin to Dorland.”