The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  “Still, you must pay some hefty wages to keep your men working so hard for you?”

  Duard nodded at Parish and Dolan. “Loyalty is its own reward, Your Majesty, as you’re obviously aware. My men look to me for guidance and security. I provide that for them just as you provide it for your men.”

  “Ah, but my men are well compensated as well, Duard, don’t mistake that. Were I to deny them the basic things they’ve become accustomed to…” Kalas finished off his wine. “...why, they’d be no more than slaves.”

  To his credit, Duard never flinched. “True, true. Ah, then the kingship is a business venture in its own right. Is that what you’re saying, Your Majesty? We’re both entrepreneurs, are we not?”

  Parish shifted uncomfortably.

  “Entrepreneurs?” asked Kalas.

  “We’re men who like risk taking as long as there’s a profit to be had.”

  Dolan cleared his throat.

  Kalas settled his glass on the table. “Ah, but while your goal is admittedly self-gratification, my goal is the welfare of my people.”

  “Yes.” Duard gave that same oily smile. “You are of a much nobler nature than I am, Your Majesty.”

  Kalas could see a man hurrying toward the house from the yard. One of the soldiers blocked him from entering, but after a moment’s consultation, he was allowed to pass. He appeared in the doorway of the dining room soon after and Duard motioned him to his side.

  The man was clearly agitated. He held his cap in his hands and had rung it into a tube. He came to Duard and said something in the man’s ear. Kalas didn’t catch it. He shared a look with Dolan, but the Nazarien indicated he hadn’t heard it either.

  Duard immediately rose to his feet. “It appears I have a problem, Your Majesty.”

  Kalas’ brows rose. “Anything we can assist you with?”

  “No, but as you said, the welfare of my people is as important to me as yours are to you. One of my most trusted men, Hogan, has gone missing. I hope you’ll excuse me while we investigate.”

  “Missing? He left your grounds? Is he not allowed to do so?”

  Duard shifted uncomfortably. “My men found blood in one of our storage building. Your men didn’t report it?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact they did, but they felt sure an animal had been slaughtered or something.”

  “We fear Hogan may be hurt.” Duard ducked his head again. “Please forgive my hasty retreat, Your Majesty.”

  Kalas waved him off. “I understand duty calls and I commend your concern for your man. Besides it’s late. We have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow.”

  “Then I’ll leave you to your rest.”

  Kalas inclined his head, then pushed himself to his feet.

  “May your dreams be pleasant, Your Majesty.”

  “May yours be as well, Duard,” he said, watching the man hurry from the room.

  * * *

  Kalas reached for the towel, pulling the knife beneath it close at the same time, then he dried his face and rubbed the fabric across the back of his neck. His shirt tails were loose around his waist, but he hadn’t yet undressed for bed.

  Duard had given him lavish accommodations – sitting room, bedroom, and bathing chamber. All of the furnishings screamed opulence from the brocade sofas to the down mattress on the bed. Nothing had been spared in the designs of these rooms, and it must have cost a fortune to cart everything into the wilderness as Duard had said. Since it was on the second floor, he also had a balcony that overlooked the yard, the doors of which stood open, their airy coverings fluttering in the breeze.

  He’d taken a bath before dinner, but he wanted to wash up before going to bed. However, someone had entered his rooms while he washed his face and hands.

  “I’ve been married to a Nazarien assassin for two years now,” he said, slowly lowering the towel and picking up the knife. “I know when I’m being stalked.”

  He whipped around and brought the knife up. His eyes widened as he took in the older man standing behind him in the sitting room of his suite. “Uncle!” He set the knife on the sink and came forward, catching Shandar in an embrace.

  Shandar hugged him in return. “Married a Nazarien assassin? Has she been training you in her trade?”

  Kalas laughed and slapped him on the shoulders. “That she has, but apparently, I still need work. I thought I was only being stalked by one, when clearly it’s…” His voice trailed off as the second assailant moved into the light.

  For a moment...just a moment, he thought Talar had walked into his room, but this man was younger, longer hair, dressed as a Nazarien warrior. He released his held breath as Shandar moved back beside the younger man and laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “Kalas Eldralin, may I introduce you to your brother, Amaroq Taheny?”

  Kalas stepped forward, taking the younger man in, trying to absorb this stunning information. “Amar…” The words failed him.

  “Wolf in Nevaisser. It’s what I’ve always called him.”

  Kalas gave Shandar a bewildered look. So much of this seemed surreal, then the fact struck him. He had a brother.

  Coming forward, he clasped the Nazarien in a hug. At first Amaroq didn’t respond, then he embraced him in return. “I swear I thought you were my father for a moment,” he said, holding Amaroq off with his hands on his shoulders.

  Amaroq gave a wary nod, refusing to meet Kalas’ eye.

  Shandar laughed, taking him in. “You look good, kid.”

  Kalas released his brother. “So do you. How did you find me?”

  “Wolf’s sister was abducted outside of Tirsbor. We’ve been looking for her.”

  “I was told this by a Nazarien named Halish. He rides with us.”

  Shandar didn’t show any recognition at the name.

  “The King of Dorland was also taken,” Kalas added. “I’m searching for him.”

  “We know. We heard you’d come this way from Erjen.” He motioned the other Nazarien forward. “Erjen rode with your father, Kalas.”

  Kalas shook hands with the old Nazarien, his attention snagging on the giant of a man standing in the shadows. “Ellette will have my head when she hears how many people waited in the dark for me.”

  Shandar motioned the mountain of a man forward. “This is Nakoda, Amaroq’s best friend.”

  Kalas shook hands with him as well. “Nah…” He shook his head.

  “I call him Bear.”

  “Good to know,” he said with a laugh, his eyes returning to Amaroq. “How is this possible? Why didn’t you ever tell me, Shandar?”

  “That was part of the agreement.”

  “Agreement?”

  “I’m mated to Amaroq’s mother, Kaelene. To stay in Tirsbor, I had to let no one know of Amaroq’s existence. It was easy to keep until Naia went missing.”

  Kalas nodded at that. “I’m sorry about your sister,” he told the younger man.

  Amaroq nodded.

  It struck Kalas that he hadn’t yet heard the man speak, and he still wouldn’t make eye contact. “You’ve lived in Tirsbor your whole life?” He could only be a few years younger than Kalas himself. That meant a whole lot of time in that isolated canyon.

  Amaroq nodded again.

  Shandar put an arm around the younger man’s shoulders, like a father would a son. “Amaroq’s an empath, Kalas. Being in a place like this is exhausting for him. It’s been a really long day.”

  Suddenly things fell into place, the reason for his isolation, the reason why he wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “My sister…” He caught himself. “Our sister,” he amended, bringing Amaroq’s gaze up to him. “She could read people’s thoughts. Not even read them. They just came at her, inundating her until she was overwhelmed. Life was miserable until she taught herself to block it.”

  Amaroq’s expression shifted to amazement. “You’re not angry about this?”

  “About what?” He glanced around at the veritable crowd in his sitting room. “Frankly, I’m embarrassed
I’m not better prepared to defend myself, but beyond that…”

  “No, that your father had a son with another woman.”

  Kalas laughed. “Our father? Did they not tell you about him? I’m fair certain there are others of us out there somewhere.” He came forward and clasped Amaroq’s shoulders again. “No, I’m delighted to meet another family member. Tyla will be delighted as well.”

  Amaroq’s gaze shifted to Shandar. Shandar shrugged. “I told you as much.” He focused on Kalas. “I know you have questions.”

  “A few.” Kalas laughed.

  “I’ll answer everything, but first, something’s not right here on this homestead.”

  “I feel the same.” He motioned to the couches. “Let’s sit. It’s been a long day for me as well.”

  They moved to the couches.

  Kalas offered the Nazarien something to drink, but they all declined. Still unable to believe it, Kalas studied his brother in the light from the pycantra lamp. How had he never been told he had a brother? Amaroq’s resemblance to their father was uncanny. He and Kalas shared the same eyes and a look about the cheekbones, but Amaroq had Talar’s pure Stravad blood.

  “They made you what they wanted him to be,” he said, then caught himself when he realized he’d spoken out loud. He didn’t mean to be offensive. “I’m sorry.”

  Shandar held up a hand. “It’s not a secret, Kalas. The Nazarien had other reasons besides Wolf’s ability to keep him hidden.”

  “It must be difficult to be so far from everything you know.”

  Amaroq looked down at his clasped hands. “I want to find my sister. That’s enough.” But there was a haunted look in his eyes.

  “Something happened.”

  Shandar gave a grunt. “That Nazarien wife of yours has really been teaching you, hasn’t she?”

  Kalas smiled. “She has. I have a daughter now too. Esme. She’s just turned one.”

  Shandar slapped him on the knee. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ll bet she’s beautiful.”

  “She is. I miss them both and I wish this business was done.”

  Shandar nodded. “So do we. It’s been a long search, then we get here and we think we might have found something, but we can’t find any signs of slaves or slave trafficking.”

  “Neither can we. The only thing we found was a pool of dried blood in an outbuilding.”

  “That was me. I killed one of the swine,” said Nakoda, speaking for the first time.

  Kalas blinked at him, then his attention was captured by Amaroq, who bowed his head and closed his eyes. “I’m guessing this man is the missing man, the one they’re searching for?”

  “Most likely,” said Shandar.

  “What’s the rest of the story?”

  Shandar launched into their day, explaining about Amaroq’s departure in the night, his capture, and the subsequent decision Duard made to have him killed before Kalas arrived. Nakoda related how he’d gutted the slaver, how they’d drug his body into a corner and covered it with bales. Then how they’d waited to see where Kalas would be staying and snuck into his room.

  Kalas leaned forward, forcing his brother to meet his eye. “I’m sorry that happened.”

  Amaroq frowned.

  “But that man’s life wasn’t worth anything once he decided to become a slaver.”

  “I felt him die,” said Amaroq.

  Nakoda rose and walked away, turning his back on the room. “I’m not sorry he’s dead,” he grumbled.

  Kalas focused his attention back on Shandar. “I’m not sure Aiden Cerik’s still alive. We’ve found no trace of him, no one has sighted him in weeks. I’m afraid he’s dead.”

  “So what do you plan to do?”

  Kalas rubbed a hand over his chin. “I don’t know, but I know this Duard has slaves here, Uncle, and I’m not leaving until I find them.”

  Amaroq glanced up.

  “I say we take apart this homestead tomorrow – every board, every stone, every piece of brick.”

  Shandar smiled wickedly. “I like the way you think, kid,” he said.

  * * *

  Kalas tried to make his uninvited guests comfortable in the sitting room. He even offered Shandar his bed, but the old man opted for one of the couches instead. Nakoda wasn’t talking to Amaroq, mad at him for sneaking off in the night, then angry that Amaroq was upset over the slaver’s death. He curled up in a corner and started snoring.

  Amaroq gave Erjen the other couch and took the offered blanket from Kalas, lying on the floor between the two. He waited until he heard the others’ deep breathing, while he listened to Kalas moving around in his bedroom. He could hear the King talking to someone.

  Sliding back the blanket, he crept to the partially opened door and peered inside. Kalas was sitting on the floor before the windows to the balcony, the curtains billowing around him from the open doorway. Amaroq could just make out a shadowed figure also sitting on the ground on the other side of the doorway.

  “I’m stunned, Dolan. I don’t even know what to say. I never expected this. Are you sure you knew nothing about it?”

  “The Nazarien have played this one close to their vests. Are you sure Ellette didn’t know?”

  “She would have said something. Do you suppose they kept it from Jarrett and Attis?”

  “You know they must have. Jarrett would have told you about a brother.”

  Amaroq eased closer, trying to see the man on the balcony.

  “What bothers me is if Attis didn’t know, and by proxy Jarrett didn’t know, then the Tirsbor Nazarien are moving in their own direction away from the order.”

  “That’s been happening, Your Majesty, for years now. The Kazden Cult itself has only a distant affiliation with Chernow. Maybe a bit more now with Attis as Nazar, but…”

  “They still have their own agenda,” finished Kalas. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m not going to lie. I’m disappointed in Shandar. He says he made a pact so he could stay in Tirsbor with his mate, but he kept a brother from me and Tyla.” He rested his head against the glass. “Do you think there are others out there?”

  “That certainly seems a possibility.”

  Kalas fell silent for a while, contemplating. Amaroq wondered if he should go back to bed. It was wrong to snoop on the man, but he wanted to know how he really felt about this development. The emotional signature he got from Kalas was confusing.

  “We have a problem, Dolan.”

  “We have many problems, Your Majesty, not the least of which is you staying the night in a slaver’s home.”

  Kalas gave a low chuckle. “Point taken. But the problem I’m referring to is the missing man.”

  “You know where he is.”

  “I know where he isn’t. He’s dead. Nakoda, my brother’s friend, killed him.”

  “Ah, well, that is a problem.”

  “His body’s buried under bales in the storage shed where our men found his blood. When this Duard finds him…”

  “Why was he killed?”

  “To protect Amaroq. The slaver was under orders to eliminate my brother and dispose of the body before my arrival.”

  “Then I say his death was a good thing.”

  “True, but here’s what worries me. If Duard finds the body and realizes the game is up, will he kill the slaves? They’re stashed away somewhere on this property, but we didn’t find any trace today. What if he decides to cut his losses and sacrifice the entire bunch? My uncle and Amaroq are here searching for Amaroq’s sister, and I shudder to think that maybe the King of Dorland is here also.”

  Amaroq felt as if he’d been gut-punched. Panic overwhelmed him. What if his sister was here and Duard decided to kill her when he was so close to finding her again?

  “Halish said he’d spend the night searching, didn’t he?”

  “He did.”

  “And our men are stationed throughout the homestead. It would be a bad time to commit mass murder, don’t you think?”

  Kalas shook his
head. “I just don’t know. I can’t get my head around what these men do to start with. I fear what else they might be capable of doing.”

  Amaroq abruptly turned away from the door, but he came up short. Nakoda was standing behind him, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Don’t even think it!” he growled, and Amaroq knew he had to contain his panic until morning. Nakoda wasn’t going to play.

  CHAPTER 17

  Naia moved onto the signal rock and bent, feeling the ashes of the signal fire with her palm. Aiden and Le followed her and stood looking about while she inspected it. Around them rose the steep red clay walls of the Tirsbor maze, an intricate mountain range split by gullies and dry riverbeds that wound about so confusingly it proved an impenetrable fortress for the Nazarien.

  Or so it had been for the last two hundred years. On that her people’s lives depended, and it was a fact that always made her uneasy when she stood outside of it, looking in. Should their enemies learn the secrets that guided the Nazarien through the maze, many people would suffer.

  At the very heart of the labyrinth was an entire civilization of Nazarien – warriors and their unconventional families – a civilization unlike any Nazarien civilization anywhere else.

  Naia rose to her feet, brushed her hands together and looked at Aiden. His head was craned back as he tried to scale the walls with his eyes. In the bright sunlight, his blond hair looked like spun gold and his dark eyes glittered. She loved him, but she choked it down. No use giving in to that. Soon their worlds would split once more – she would be a faceless Nazarien woman and he’d return as King of Dorland, a powerful man in a powerful Human land.

  She turned her attention to Le and flashed him a smile. He was as amazed as Aiden, but he was waiting for her to perform some sort of magic. He got that strange look in his eyes when he expected either she or Aiden to amaze him with something.