“No, actually I came here in hopes of making a bargain with you,” Sovaesh said with a heavy sigh.
“What kind of bargain?” Jala asked cautiously.
“I will kill Donrey Avanti and tell you how to breach the city if you will spare his son’s life,” Sovaesh answered, his eyes on her now rather than her son.
“Nathan?” Jala asked, the memory of the man beating Madren rising at the mention of his name.
“No, Truce. The eldest son. He is married to my daughter. You may remember him from your wedding. He isn’t like the rest of them, Jala. He has a kind heart as Dashara did,” Sovaesh explained quickly.
Jala frowned and moved around the table to sit in her own chair once more, balancing Legacy carefully on one leg. “I remember him. I remember him from his father’s visit to my lands as well,” she said slowly. Shaking her head she sighed. “I won’t promise you I will spare him, Sovaesh. I will give my word that I will offer him terms though. That is more than I had intended to do when I reached the city.”
“Then I will be grateful that you are willing to do that much,” Sovaesh said bowing his head to her. His gaze moved to the Bendazzi as he slowly slid his hand into his coat pocket and pulled a folded piece of paper from it. He held it up for Jala and the two cats to see before setting it down on the table and sliding it toward her. “That is a map of the city and an accurate accounting of its defenses,” Sovaesh explained as he lowered his hands to his lap once more.
Jala reached across the table with one hand and unfolded the map, glancing down at the writing before looking back up at him. “How do I know this isn’t a trap?” she asked cautiously.
“Because I hate the High Lord of Avanti as much as you do, Jala. The bastard killed my son. I give you the information freely in return for your mercy to Truce. The decision on whether or not to use the information is solely yours. Regardless of what you decide, I will kill Donrey Avanti the moment I see your army at the gates,” Sovaesh said, his gaze dropping to the Bendazzi once more. “With your permission, I would go. I have been away from the city too long as it is.”
Jala nodded slowly and motioned for the Bendazzi to back down. “Your other son is in my camp, you know,” she said as she watched him rise from the chair.
“And has less desire to see me than you did, I assure you. Sovann despises me for my work and I respect that and keep my distance,” Sovaesh said with a note of sadness in his voice. Bowing to her once more he pulled his mask up and then paused at the tent door. “For future reference, when dealing with my ilk, Lady Merrodin, there are contact poisons that can be placed on paper that will soak through your skin and kill you within minutes. Gloves will protect you from such poisons,” Sovaesh said before stepping out into the night.
Jala dropped the map she had been holding and let out a sigh. If the paper had been poisoned she would likely already be dead. Just to be on the safe side however she cast a quick healing spell to cleanse her body of toxins. She had already been poisoned once this month. She had no desire to make it twice.
Chapter 31
Avanti
“What do you mean you had to piss?” Donrey Avanti’s voice rose to nearly a scream as he spoke. The vein in his forehead was throbbing and Truce knew his father well enough to know that someone would die today.
“It was like that for everyone, Milord. Even the bloody horses, Sir. Then the dragon fell and she used necromancy to turn it against us.” The man stammered. He had been one of the few survivors from the first engagement with Jala Merrodin and had already made the report to his superiors, of course.
“She attacked during a parlay, father,” Cassia added, her voice almost a whine.
Truce leaned farther back in his chair, watching, and let out a long silent sigh. His sister shouldn’t have been anywhere near the encampment, but she had insisted on seeing the Merrodin defeat. If not for Sovaesh, Cassia would still be a prisoner in Jala Merrodin’s camp. The Assassin had returned her safely the night before and Cassia had been whining non-stop since then.
“Are you suggesting to me that Lady Merrodin used magic to make you have to piss?” the High Lord asked in a low voice, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
There was a faint snort of laughter toward the back of the room and Truce glanced back at Sovaesh who was bowing his head and obviously losing his fight to remain silent.
“Do you find it funny that we are losing a war against a girl and her rabble of an army, Sovaesh?” Donrey snarled, his eyes rising from the wounded soldier to settle on Sovaesh.
“No, Milord. I find the reason they lost the battle amusing,” Sovaesh returned, his voice holding far too much amusement for the mood the High lord was currently in.
“I find nothing about this amusing,” Donrey snarled and whirled on the second man sitting before his desk. “You are one of my elites. You had support from mercenaries as well as Blights and you still lost the bloody battle,” the High Lord snarled, his face twisting in his anger.
“It was all but won, Milord. Then the dragon attacked. Milord, there was nothing we could do about a dragon,” the man explained. He was seasoned and steady in the face of the lord’s fury, unlike his comrade in arms who sat fairly quivering in his seat.
The mention of the dragon gave the High Lord pause and his attention turned to the last man in the room. The visitor was large by any standards, close to seven foot in height if Truce was guessing correctly. He stood with his arms crossed over his massive chest, a look of boredom on his face. Both his swarthy skin and scarred leather armor made him seem more like a backstreet thug than anyone Donrey Avanti might associate with. Truce had been watching the man off and on throughout the meeting, trying to determine exactly who he was and why he was here. Now it seemed he would finally get his answers.
“What color was the dragon?” the large man asked in a deep voice.
“Black with gold on the wings and neck, Sir,” the soldier replied at once.
“Do you know this dragon, Lord Margundrak?” Donrey asked, his voice slowly returning to a normal pitch.
Truce watched the stranger, his eyes roving over the tattered leather vest and the thick rawhide bracers he wore. The man certainly didn’t look like a Lord, but then his father never used a title unless it was deserved.
“Nigel Rivasa. He is a half-breed. It will be no difficulty dealing with him,” Margundrak said shrugging one shoulder.
“I would highly appreciate your doing so before this half-breed reaches my city. I was assured by High Lady Wilameir that Nerathane was on our side. I find myself wondering now, however. Is she playing both sides of the fence?” Donrey said, his tone scathing.
“As I said, he is a half-breed, and a Rivana half-breed at that. Nigel is a rebel. Surely Avanti, of all lands would understand such things,” Margundrak replied coldly.
Truce leaned forward in his seat with interest and stared at the two men. There weren’t many that would dare speak that way with his father, but Margundrak didn’t seem concerned with his father’s temper, and his father didn’t seem to mind.
“Naturally. I can see by the fact that you are here that your High Lady understands that Nerathane must take responsibility for its own. You will kill this rebel?” Donrey said, emphasizing the word rebel with a disgusted tone.
“Kill them all! She nearly killed me, daddy. If not for that drunkard knight, I would be dead now,” Cassia chimed in, her eyes going wide as she bounced forward in her chair. “They killed Jexon, daddy! I was supposed to be his wife. I should be a High Lady now and because of her he is dead!” Cassia added, her voice rising enough to make Truce wince.
That was the first that Truce had heard of Cassia being a High Lady and he turned to watch his sister as she pouted at their father. His mother had always told him that you loved your family despite their faults, because they were your blood. As he sat in silence and watched his father and sister, however, he realized how much he had failed to follow his mother’s wisdom. His father was a tyrant and
his sister was a spoiled brat. Truce couldn’t even fathom how bad she would be as a High Lady. She was already petty and demanding and she was simply a child of a High House.
Donrey let out a long sigh and favored his daughter with a faint smile. “I know pumpkin. I’m sorry Jexon fell. I truly am. Merrodin would have been a country to be reckoned with had you been its High Lady, rather than the peasant mud hole it currently is.”
There was another snort of laughter from the back of the room and Sovaesh walked toward the door, holding one hand up in apology. “Forgive me, Lord. Just a moment to gain my composure once more,” Sovaesh said in a voice choked with continued mirth.
The High Lord watched Sovaesh leave with a frown on his handsome face and then looked back to Margundrak. “If you can manage to kill them all, Avanti would be grateful. I will of course compensate you for your trouble,” he said and then smiled down at Cassia.
Truce watched them silently, his mood darkening with every word. There was so much he would love to say. It was almost unbearable at times to be in the same room with them and know if he spoke his mind, he would die. His sister had died for speaking her mind and acting against what she saw as wrong. He had never actually met Dashara. She had died long before he was born, but his mother told him stories about her. The stories had been warnings. Every story was a warning to him of the price of honesty in House Avanti. With another silent sigh, Truce sank into his chair once more and kept his mouth firmly closed. Dashara had paid the cost for honesty, but he couldn’t afford to. He had a wife and son waiting at home that depended on him too much for him to throw it all away by speaking his mind.
“I will deal with the traitor. If there is opportunity, I will deal with the rabble as well,” Margundrak said, his voice still sounding bored. With one quick nod the man left the parlor.
“Will just he be enough, Daddy? They killed the lovely dragon that was with us, remember? Maybe you should send more than one,” Cassia said in her irritating whine.
“Lord Margundrak is High Lady Willameir’s executioner honey. He is well versed in killing dragons and the dragon that fell in the first battle was young and apparently unskilled in war. I’m sure there will be no problems,” Donrey assured his daughter with another smile. Looking back up his eyes fell on the two soldiers seated before his desk doing their best to remain unnoticed. “Sovaesh.” The High Lord’s voice rose like a whip as he spoke the name and the Assassin stepped back into the room at once. “Take these two and kill them. I will not suffer cowards and failures in my ranks.”
“Shall I take the girl too, Milord? She was captured as well,” Sovaesh said, his tone flat with no trace of humor. Sovaesh looked directly at Cassia and Truce had to fight back a snort of laughter. Only Sovaesh would dare such a comment. The man was too useful for his father to simply throw away, but comments toward Cassia would be pushing even his luck.
“You impertinent bastard!” Cassia fairly screeched, leaping from her chair to point at Sovaesh. “Daddy, he threatened me!”
“I will forget you said that in light of the fact that you returned Cassia safely to me. Do not test my patience again, Sovaesh,” Donrey warned in a low voice.
“Of course, Milord,” Sovaesh said with a quick nod, but Truce could see the creases at the corners of the man’s eyes. The Assassin was smiling despite the warning. “Would you walk or shall I drag you out?” Sovaesh asked the two men who sat in stunned disbelief at their pending deaths.
“I’ll walk. I am no coward and there was no avoiding failure in that situation,” the elite growled as he rose proudly to his feet. The man dared a look of defiance at the High Lord before turning stiffly for the door.
“And you?” Sovaesh asked the young man who still sat staring at the desk with wide eyes. The Assassin waited for a long moment before shrugging and grabbing the man by the back of his coat. With a quick tug he dragged the man from his seat and started toward the door. “Shall I spike the heads or simply dispose of the bodies, Milord?” he asked as he reached the door.
“Display the bodies to warn the others,” the High Lord said as he watched them leave.
“Desertion in the ranks will be up by morning,” Sovaesh said quietly as he disappeared into the hall.
“Daddy, why do you put up with him? He is so rude,” Cassia asked at the same time Truce was wishing he was more like the Assassin. It would be nice to be too valuable to be killed for speaking up. Unlike Sovaesh, however, Truce knew he held very little value in his father’s eyes.
“I thought Avanti was all farmland,” Jala said as they stopped at the top of a gentle rise and stared down at the beginning of what looked to be a rather large sized forest.
“The Lord’s forest,” Sovann said from just behind her. Pushing his horse forward he gazed down at the trees for a long moment then looked over to her. “If not for the trees you could see the walls of the city, Jala. We are less than a day out now.” His voice was quiet and his gaze returned to the forest the moment he had finished speaking.
“Are you all right, Sovann?” Wisp asked, her voice filled with concern. It was no secret that the Fae had grown very close with Sovann and Jala was amazed the two weren’t already sharing a tent with the way they acted.
“My mother and sisters are in the city,” Sovann said softly.
“Will they fight us?” Valor asked from Jala’s other side. The knight had been riding beside her all morning and though there hadn’t been much conversation between them, his company alone had been enough to keep Jala’s spirits up.
“My mother and sisters?” Sovann asked in shock, and then quickly shook his head. “No, they don’t fight. My little sister is only ten, and my older sister has never fought a day in her life,” Sovann explained quickly.
“Then there is nothing to worry about. If they don’t fight. We won’t kill them,” Valor assured him, though Jala doubted the words did much to ease Sovann’s concerns.
“Can you form a mind link with them and tell them to get out of the city?” Wisp asked hopefully.
Sovann shook his head with a frown on his face as they continued down the slope at a slow walk. “My mother is a ward of House Avanti. She wears a slave chain because the High Lord didn’t trust her to obey him when she arrived. She can’t leave the city or he will kill her with it. My father tried to sneak her from the city once when they were young, or so my mother says, and she nearly died from the punishment.” Sovann let out a harsh breath and shrugged.
“That explains why your father serves House Avanti. I had wondered about that,” Jala said quietly, her eyes moving to the forest once more. She wished she could offer him some solace, but the memory of how many she had mistakenly killed during the attack on Sanctuary kept her mouth closed on the matter. Less than a day and she would break House Avanti. Less than a day and Sovann might watch his family die. Shaking her head at the thought, she resisted the urge to gaze behind her to where her own family rode in the supply wagons. Her mother, her little brother, and her son all as safe as she could make them. If she were in Sovann’s place, could she still fight, knowing those she cared for would die if her spells brought down the wrong building.
You think too much, Marrow scolded gently.
Jala smiled faintly and her attention turned to the two Bendazzi that were ranging in the field beyond the horses. I don’t think I could do it, Jala admitted through the link.
The ones that truly matter to Sovann are riding beside him. He may love his mother and sisters, but he loves Wisp and his friends more, Marrow said firmly.
Jala glanced to her side long enough to watch Wisp take Sovann’s hand as they rode and smiled. You may be right, she told Marrow and let the mental link fade between them.
A deafening roar rose in the distance ahead of them, sending birds scattering from the forest ahead. Jala pulled her horse to a stop beside her friends and looked over to Valor. “What the hell was that?” she asked.
Valor frowned, his eyes on the distant horizon. Lifting one gaunt
leted hand he pointed toward the distant sky. “Dragon,” he answered quietly.
Jala stared in the direction he indicated and frowned at the tiny dark shape in the sky. “Are you sure that’s a dragon? Surely we couldn’t have heard it that loudly when it’s still that far away. If that little speck is a dragon it must be thirty miles from us,” she objected, then turned in her saddle at the sound of quickly approaching horses behind them. She recognized Nigel in the lead of the small group of riders, but the others she had never gotten a chance to meet. His small group had hid themselves among the camp followers in the guise of merchants and she had never sought them out personally.
“Dragon,” Valor repeated with a wink as she turned back in her saddle to stare once more at the quickly approaching threat.
Nigel pulled his horse to a stop beside the company of knights that rode behind her small group and Jala watched him dismount and casually toss his reins to one of the Arovan. Walking forward he stopped beside Jala’s horse and smiled up at her. “I believe this will be an issue that would best be dealt with by me and mine,” Nigel said with a tight smile.
“Margundrak,” another man said as he approached, his eyes on the distant sky. He was dark haired and tall with broad shoulders. The black suit he wore nearly matched Nigel’s fine clothes in appearance and looked more appropriate for a fine dinner in the city than riding to battle. Like Nigel, he wore the dark sunglasses to hide his draconic eyes. Raising a hand slowly to his jaw he ran a hand across his neatly trimmed beard and glanced over his shoulder. “Girls, I believe this might require your help as well. Vosha, you may stay and wait with the High Lady in the event that there is trouble here.” He spoke with calm authority and at his words, three beautifully gowned women approached. Jala stared in amazement at the jewel toned dresses they wore and wondered how they had managed to stay so perfectly clean.
The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes Page 49