The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  Alasdair nodded. “I can do that.”

  “Good.” Kalas shifted and gave Adison a cool look. “And I certainly understand your position, Your Highness. I wouldn’t deprive Dorland of her King during such a trying time. We’ll send messengers to you with any updates about our progress.”

  Adison didn’t give a rat’s ass about progress, but he wouldn’t mind knowing exactly what Halish was up to. He was beginning to think making the bargain with Halish wasn’t such a bargain after all.

  “Thank you for your understanding, Your Majesty,” said Adison, forcing a smile.

  “Oh, I’m anything if not understanding,” Kalas returned.

  Now what the hell did that mean, the bastard?

  * * *

  “Who is Amaroq Tahopi or whatever?” demanded Adison, turning from the window as Halish entered his private suite. “What is he to you?”

  “It’s Amaroq Taheny and he has nothing to do with you.”

  “I will not be betrayed!” Adison’s temper snapped. He lifted his drink and swallowed a mouthful, feeling the blaze of the liquor slide into his belly. He walked over to the table and poured himself another.

  “I suggest you amend that statement,” said Halish, leaning against one of the posts on his bed. “I don’t like to be ordered.”

  “Really? ‘Cause you run like a lapdog whenever the Nazar commands you.”

  “I do no such thing, but the Nazarien do command my loyalty more than you do.”

  “What exactly is the plan, Halish? Why did you want to destabilize the region? What does my brother have to do with this?”

  “That isn’t your concern.”

  “It is!” Drink made him bold. He took a step toward the Nazarien. “It is my concern! My kingdom hangs in the balance.”

  “It has to do with the previous Nazar, not you.”

  “Jarrett Trauner? He walked away from the order. He went to live in Temeron.”

  “That he did. He betrayed us.”

  Adison shrugged and dropped into an armchair before the fireplace. “We all have our reasons, Halish. What does Trauner have to do with Dorland?”

  “Again, it’s not your concern.”

  Adison leaned forward, his features stark. “Then tell me about this Amaroq character.”

  Halish’s jaw worked, but he didn’t immediately answer.

  “Tell me or I go to Kalas Eldralin and confess everything.”

  Halish gave him a grim smile. “I will kill you.”

  Adison shook his head, downing his drink. “No, you won’t because then Kalas Eldralin will get suspicious at the offing of another Dorlandian King. How would you find your precious Tahopi then?”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “Yep. Now who is this very important Nazarien?”

  “Amaroq Taheny is actually Amaroq Eldralin.”

  Adison sat forward. “Really? He’s another spawn of your savior? Eldon’s star, the man had no bloody control whatsoever.”

  “Careful what you say, pretend King. I might find it worth the risk of offing you.”

  Adison waved airily. “So many threats. I’m steeped in them. Does the King of Eastern Nevaisser know he has a brother?”

  “Half-brother, and apparently he doesn’t. The name meant nothing to him when I mentioned it.”

  “Interesting.” Adison finished his latest drink.

  “You should be accompanying us on this venture.”

  Adison shook his head. “That’s why I have you, but you could take Lyell Vito with you, if you’ve a mind…oh, and my bedamned brother’s shrew of a wife. Don’t worry about bringing her back. The harpy won’t let me into her bed. Not that she’d ever welcomed my slave brother when he was here.” Adison peeled off into laughter.

  Halish rolled his eyes. “You’re a drunken fool.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You make me regret beginning this venture with you.”

  “Yes, well, we’re of like mind then,” said Adison, waving his glass at him. “This is not at all what I’d hoped would happen.”

  With a disgusted shake of his head, Halish walked to the door and let himself out. Adison didn’t care. Everything was unraveling and being King was a hell of a lot more trouble than he’d ever wanted.

  * * *

  “His name is Dancing Thunder and he’s the best of Lord Aiden’s stables,” said Lyell Vito, running a hand down the stallion’s nose. “Aiden loved this animal like a child.”

  Kalas smiled and stroked the horse as well. “I don’t feel right riding him then.”

  “Nonsense. He’s pining. He needs something to distract him from his loss. If not, I fear he may worry himself to death.”

  Kalas nodded and turned as Adison walked up to them. Thunder tossed his head and stepped back, forcing the stable boy to cling to his harness. Kalas eyed the horse, then the substitute King. Everyone suspected Adison of playing a part in his brother’s disappearance, but they had no evidence to prove it. Kalas’ hands were tied until they could produce something. He didn’t like the situation here, but he wasn’t sure yet how to solve it.

  He also wasn’t sure leaving the city was a good idea, but he wanted to get this problem fixed and go home. Ellette and his daughter had been without him going on a month now and he missed them.

  “Ride well, Your Majesty,” said Adison. “I see you’re taking my brother’s horse.”

  “Yes, apparently he needs a purpose. Who am I to argue with that?”

  Adison gave a lift of his chin. “The beast is trained for battle.”

  “Ah, I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “I don’t believe the slavers will go quietly.”

  “No, I suppose not.” Kalas checked to make sure everything was ready. As he turned to mount Aiden’s horse, Carona appeared from the castle, striding down the wide, narrow stairs, her skirts billowing about her.

  Kalas stepped forward and accepted her hand. “Your Highness, thank you for seeing us off.”

  She shot a withering look at Adison, then focused on him. “Guard yourself well, Your Majesty. Sometimes the most poisonous snake in the garden is the one directly underfoot.”

  Kalas frowned, but Adison grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back against him. “You forget yourself, Carona,” he warned. “Do not take that to mean anything, Your Majesty. The woman is an invalid.”

  She elbowed him, forcing him to release her. “I hope that Dorland will welcome you upon your return, Your Majesty,” she said pointedly.

  “Of course it will,” said Adison with a forced laugh, rubbing his side. “Why wouldn’t it, Carona? Honestly, woman, have you become infirm of mind as well?”

  She gave him a scathing look. Kalas didn’t like the way Adison spoke to her, although he had to admit, her cryptic comments were less than useful.

  Kalas took her hands. “I will do everything in my power to see your husband restored to you, Your Highness.”

  She peered up at him, her dark eyes searching his face. “Return him for Dorland. Return him for yourself, Your Majesty. A hostile Dorland will forever be a thorn in your side.”

  “Honestly, Carona,” snapped Adison, again taking her shoulder and pulling her back against him. “The things you say border on treason.”

  “Then consider me treasonous, Your Highness.” She shook off his hold and turned toward the castle. “Fare you well, Your Majesty, fare you well.” A moment later, she was gone.

  Adison made a crazy motion near his temple. “She’s daft, is what she is. Too much time breathing the stale air of her bedchamber.”

  Kalas lifted a brow. “Then her safety is all the more dear. I would hate to have anything happen to her. It would distress me a great deal.” He said the last with particular emphasis.

  Adison’s lip twitched, but he inclined his head. “Nothing will happen to her, Your Majesty, I can assure you that.”

  “Excellent. Then we’ll ride.” He grabbed Thunder’s cantle and hauled himself into the saddle. Parish moved up
on his right side, Dolan on his left. “We’ll try to send messengers as we can.”

  Adison nodded, his gaze moving past Kalas and finding Halish where he rode toward the middle of Kalas’ men. Kalas knew exactly where he was. He’d ordered Dolan to keep an eye on him. He didn’t trust the man yet and he wasn’t taking any chances.

  Giving Lyell Vito a smile, he turned Aiden’s favorite mount toward the gates of the castle. “Wish us luck, First Advisor!” he called over his shoulder.

  “The very best!” shouted the First Advisor in return.

  * * *

  They rode as far as they could that night. Camp was set and Kalas’ tent pitched. Parish set up a patrol around the perimeter of camp and guards outside Kalas’ tent flap. As they ate, Kalas and Parish reviewed the maps of the area and Parish marked off where they’d found the slavers’ camp and the body.

  Dolan ate with them, although even after all these years, the old Nazarien felt it was inappropriate to dine with his King. He only did so at Kalas’ insistence.

  Kalas took a sip of wine and settled the glass on their camp table. “What do you make of this Halish fellow, Baron?”

  Parish cut a piece of steak, but he didn’t put it in his mouth. “Chernow Nazarien.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Parish motioned at Dolan with his fork. “Help me out here. The Chernow Nazarien are more staid, adhere more to the basic tenants of the faith...they’re more…”

  “Political,” said Dolan.

  Parish stabbed the air with his fork. “Political. Every time I deal with them I feel like there’s an agenda, like there are machinations going on behind the scenes.”

  Kalas nodded, pushing his plate away. “I see that too.”

  “Now your Kazden Cult – bloody crazy bastards the lot of them.” He shot a sheepish look Dolan’s way. “No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  Kalas smiled. After leaving Chernow, Dolan had joined the Cult for a time. He still bore a faint trace of the tattoo on his cheek.

  “And Tirsbor?”

  “Traditionalist, but isolated, so they have more of a sense of community. Men and women have to live closely together, so they learn to depend on each other a bit more.”

  Kalas reached for his wine glass. “Who is this Taheny fellow Halish mentioned?”

  “Amerock or something?”

  “Amaroq,” corrected Dolan. “Means Wolf in Nazarien.”

  Kalas considered that. “He said Amaroq was very powerful, as powerful as my sister, yet I’ve never heard of him.”

  “There may be a reason for that, Your Majesty,” said Dolan. “Such power comes with a price, as well you know.”

  Kalas nodded. “Well, our problem is the slavers and…” His voice trailed off as a guard poked his head inside the tent.

  “The Nazarien would like a word, Your Majesty.”

  Kalas motioned him inside.

  The guard ducked out and Halish entered, his tall, lanky body filling up the tight space. He glanced around at Kalas’ comforts, then gave Kalas a bow. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your meal, Your Majesty,” he said.

  “Not at all. Come sit. Would you like something?”

  “I’ve already dined.”

  “Wine then?”

  Halish waved that off. “I generally don’t indulge.”

  Parish pushed out a chair with his foot. “Sit, then. We’ve been looking at the maps. I think I’ve marked where we found the remains of the slavers’ camp.”

  Halish took a look, then sat, clasping his hands before him. “We’ve heard they move frequently. It’s the best way to stay ahead of the authorities.”

  Kalas shook his head. “I’ve heard rumors for years, but I never believed them, then I got the letters from Alasdair Cerik.”

  “Is that when you went to the Nazar?”

  “I figured if anyone could confirm it, he’d be the one.”

  “And he did, no doubt,” said Halish.

  “He did.” Kalas narrowed his gaze on the Nazarien. So far, Halish had said everything right. It was just a feeling he gave off that made Kalas question him. “Did he send you to investigate also?”

  “The Nazar?”

  Kalas nodded.

  “Yes. He asked me to offer my services to the King of Dorland, but the King of Dorland was already abducted by the time I arrived. Would that I hadn’t stopped in Tirsbor. I might have made it in time to stop his capture.”

  “Is that how you knew of Amaroq’s sister?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Did the King of Dorland go missing while you were in Tirsbor?”

  “As I was leaving, yes.”

  “Then we were on your heels, weren’t we?”

  “It seems you were.”

  Kalas stretched out his legs, grimacing at the pull of sore muscles. Dancing Thunder was an excellent horse, but he was larger and more spirited than Kalas’ usual gelding. “Tomorrow we’ll be at the same spot where the Baron found the body. I’ll look to you for help in finding clues as to which direction they went, so we can find the next camp.”

  “That’s part of why I wanted to talk with you, Your Majesty. I was wondering if I might scout ahead, survey the terrain before the larger force arrives. Sometimes evidence is tricky to find and we wouldn’t want it to be lost in the elements or the increased number of people traveling over it.”

  Kalas exchanged a look with Dolan and the Baron. Suspicion whispered up his spine. “You wouldn’t object to one of our men going with you, would you?”

  Halish didn’t miss a beat. “Of course not, Majesty. Send whoever you wish.”

  Kalas made a motion at Parish. Parish wiped his mouth on his napkin and rose to his feet, tossing the bit of fabric onto his plate. “I’ll get right on that,” he said, and Kalas knew he’d choose a well-trusted, well-seasoned warrior.

  Halish inclined his head.

  Kalas picked up his wine and took another sip. He felt sure this man was up to something, he just couldn’t figure out what it was. He’d only arrived in Dorland a few hours before Kalas had, after Aiden had been abducted, so he couldn’t be involved in that. He said he’d come from Tirsbor where the Taheny sister had been abducted, but whenever he spoke of this Taheny, he did it with undisguised worry belying any involvement in her disappearance. He said all the right things and yet something was off.

  Kalas intended to keep a close eye on him.

  CHAPTER 12

  Nakoda found the remains of a fire ring. Someone had tried to put the fire out, but they’d been in a hurry and the circle of rocks around it remained partially intact. Amaroq swung out of the horse’s saddle, patting her side as he moved to the pit and hunkered down across from his friend. They’d been riding since morning, heading toward the spot where Naia had been abducted. They hadn’t found it, but they may have found a slavers’ camp.

  Amaroq relished the time off horseback.

  Their money hadn’t been able to buy the best bred horses and his mare had a strange hitch in her stride that punished his spine. The rest of the money had gone to buy cans of beans that Shandar heated over the fire. He added a few herbs and wild plants he found on the terrain, but this part of the land was barren, mostly rock and little else. Still Amaroq wasn’t complaining.

  He picked up a stick and pushed it into the deepest pile of debris, scattering the ash. A half-burnt piece of paper fluttered free in the late morning breeze. Amaroq caught it before it blew away. Smoothing it on his thigh, he squinted at the half-burnt words.

  “What is it?” asked Shandar, coming up behind him.

  Amaroq lifted the paper into the light, straining to see. “It’s a flier advertising…” Disgust filled him and he threw the paper back into the pit. “Advertising an auction.”

  “A slavery auction?”

  Amaroq nodded, feeling something clench tight inside of him. The vile nature of this business became starkly clear. His sister had been captured by men who peddled their fellow man.


  He shifted in his crouch, taking in the campsite, cataloguing what he saw. Something caught his eye – a glint of metal in the late-morning sunlight, winking from beneath a bed of dry brambles. He rose to his feet and walked over to it, pulling back the bushes. They came away easily, having been torn from the ground. They hid a makeshift grave – no more than a pile of rocks mounded over a body. The metal was the edge of a shackle showing through the hastily erected cairn.

  Amaroq felt his heart kick against his ribs as he knelt and began removing the rocks. Shandar and Nakoda came over to him and Shandar placed a hand on Amaroq’s shoulder. “It’s a grave, Wolf. Don’t disturb it.”

  Amaroq kept removing rocks, his hands acting of their own volition. A terrible pain rose inside his belly and his chest felt tight. “I have to know,” he whispered, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. “I have to know.”

  A moment later, Shandar and Nakoda knelt on either side of him and began removing the rocks as well, tossing them behind them. It didn’t take long to uncover the desiccated corpse. The dry wind and heat had leached all of the moisture from it, leaving the skin pulled taut against the skull.

  Amaroq closed his eyes and bowed his head, fighting the roar of emotion raging through him. The body wasn’t hers. It wasn’t his sister. This woman was older, lighter haired, lighter complexion. Her facial features had been sharp, pointed, not full and round like Naia.

  “It’s not her,” breathed Shandar and the rush of his emotions slammed into Amaroq, making him dizzy. “Eldon’s star, it’s not Naia.”

  Amaroq shook his head. “It’s not her, but she’s sister to someone. Mother, daughter. I have to give her a proper burial.”

  Shandar looked around. “Burning the body would draw a lot of attention, Wolf.”

  “We’ll bury her as the Humans do, in the ground.”

  Nakoda nodded. “I’ll look for a flat rock for digging, and a better place to dig.”

  “Thank you.”

  Shandar sank down across from him, his hands in his lap.