Tallis shook her by the hair. “What is this, part of your big announcement? Bring in muscle to make sure everyone complies?”
“This is my brother having found me after decades of searching. This is . . . this is the brink of chaos.”
She jerked free. At least now she knew the identity of her captor.
Tallis of Pendray. The Heretic.
She still wasn’t able to read his mind, but his honed Norse seaxes held residual memories so strong that she’d caught flashes of his true self. His life on the run.
A man of myth. But still a man.
“You don’t need to be a telepath to sense the panic.” She tipped her chin toward where Pashkah owned the altar—the altar she’d hoped would be host to an evening of peaceful triumph. “Those are lambs being herded toward a butcher’s knife. Nothing I’ve done, no matter your delusions, will match the crimes Pashkah is capable of committing.”
“He’s your brother. I wouldn’t expect anything less than deceit and mind-warping delusions.”
Kavya’s heart was expanding with each beat, until it shoved against her trachea. Everything she’d worked for was at Pashkah’s mercy, while the notorious Heretic kept her from helping her people. “Do you hate me so much that you deny the obvious? Look at the men at his back. Each one of them is twice-cursed.”
“You can tell? You’re reading their minds?”
“I don’t need to. They’re Pashkah’s Black Guard. Whole communities have been rolled over by their arrival.”
“He kills Dragon Kings? The Five Clans would’ve heard about that.”
Kavya shook her head, her eyes filling. “Not killing. Trying to breed. The Black Guard were responsible for the Juvine forty years ago, when women were stolen from the South and held captive here in the mountains. Retaliation after retaliation followed, reviving the same hatreds that split our clan three thousand years ago. By trapping me, you’ve given him unchecked permission. The Black Guard will continue its spree.”
Tallis had fascinating skin—smooth except for those places where emotions pushed to the surface. So animated for a Dragon King, he frowned with his whole face until it took on the gravity of a pending typhoon. Finally he seemed to be taking her fear seriously.
“Unbind me,” she said, pressing her advantage.
“So you can flee? What do you think I am?”
“An idiotic, brainless Pendray thing. Always thinking with your cocks and your work-worn hands, if you think at all. All I want is to face my brother without ropes around my wrists.” She forced strength into her voice just as she’d forced calm into her body. “You wanted me discredited among my followers, not martyred. Remember?”
“That I can agree with.”
“First obeying me, now agreeing with me. You’ll be undone by dawn.”
“Suddenly you expect to live that long,” he said with an edge of a smile.
“You have no idea the consequences if I don’t. Forget martyrdom. I’ll be the dead soul that gives Pashkah what he’s always wanted: the powers of a thrice-cursed Indranan.”
Tallis shook his head. “Ancient myth.”
“No, fact. Just like how the Heretic seems to have graced me with his presence.”
That caught him off guard, but only for a moment. “So you admit it. You know who I am.”
“That doesn’t mean your accusations hold merit.”
He silenced her by dragging a seax nearer to her flesh. Although she shuddered, she appreciated the knife more than his kiss. She could endure pain. Life had taught her those lessons and the means of coping with what no one should have to endure. The surprise of pleasure, however, was still frothing in her veins. Every hair stood on end. Her skin pulled toward his touch and his Dragon-damned kisses.
The conflicting emotions were too much to process. As telepaths, the Indranan learned how to put emotions in boxes. Her own went in one box, separated and classified and memorized—the better to make sure they were really hers. Impressions and ideas from other people had boxes of their own, like quarantined contagions.
The tip of the seax was as fine as the point of a needle. Engraved scrollwork along the blade caught the last of the dying sunshine. Tallis slid the tip between her wrists and sliced the ropes with one swift cut. No wasted motion. Perfect mastery of his weapon.
“Members of the Sun Cult,” came the voice that sent hot dread up her spine and ghostly chills back down. “Your leader is no longer here. Because I am her brother, Pashkah, you can imagine the consequences if I take her life—or if I already have. Perhaps she’s merely fled, leaving you to my mercies.”
The Black Guard marched to the edge of the altar.
Pashkah didn’t smile, but contentment shimmered around him in a swirl of charcoal fog. “I have no mercy.”
Additional members of the Guard dragged a pair of men into sight and thrust them to their knees, flanking Pashkah.
Kavya gasped. “No, no, no . . .”
A hand wrapped around her mouth. She struggled until Tallis’s words found their way into her short-circuiting brain.
“Quiet,” he hissed softly. His arms were strong around her, which was welcome rather than abhorrent. She was ready to shudder apart, disintegrated by fear and outrage. “Who are those men?”
“Indranan representatives. My allies from the Northern and Southern factions. Oh, Dragon save them.”
Pashkah was a man of his sick, malevolent word. He stood over the representatives and spread his hands with a flourish. “These are the presents the Sun was going to offer at dusk. Omanand of the North. Raghupati of the South. She would’ve stood behind them and smiled that calm, happy smile as they shook hands. Ended the civil war. Healed the breach. Wouldn’t that have been lovely?”
“Is that true?” Tallis asked against Kavya’s cheek.
“Yes,” she whispered. “A foundation for lasting peace. But it doesn’t matter now. Nothing will matter now.”
One of the Guardsmen handed Pashkah a sword.
Tallis drew in a sharp breath. “That’s Dragon-forged.”
Her lucidity was slipping away along with her hopes. She was physically ill, so painfully, violently ill. “Yes. The only weapon that can kill a Dragon King.”
Pashkah lifted the blade. With one blow, he beheaded Omanand. With another, he separated Raghupati’s head from a body that flopped onto the altar. Terror echoed through the valley like the shrieks of demons.
Kavya saw only blood.
FB2 document info
Document ID: fe15807b-096a-402b-b21a-687737dcc524
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 31.10.2013
Created using: calibre 1.7.0, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
MiLinda
About
This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.
(This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)
Этот файл создан при помощи конвертера FB2EPUB версии 1.1.5.0 написанного Lord KiRon.
(Эта книга может содержать материал который защищен авторским правом, автор конвертера не несет ответственности за его использование)
http://www.fb2epub.net
https://code.google.com/p/fb2epub/
Caged Warrior dk-1 Page 31