“Like many, he fears the power of the Eye, but unlike most, he does not fear its wielder.”
Was it possible? Ezra waved a hand in dismissal. “That’s neither here nor there. We have greater concerns.”
“Indeed. The murder of the Soldati king, destruction of the Soldati realm, and annihilation of the human world must take precedence over your lingering chasteness.”
Ezra crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the Eye. “What manner of company are you keeping these days? I’m not certain I approve.” The Eye remained silent. How very convenient. Ezra paced as he thought. Someone was going to kill Khalon in two days if they didn’t do something. If the traitors were here, they must be found. He stilled and turned to the Eye. “Come. We must hunt.”
Opening the door, Ezra waited for the Eye to exit before closing the door behind him. His hand froze on the doorknob, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He was being watched.
“I think another visit to the herb tent is in order,” he said to no one in particular. Speaking to himself or the Eye was a common occurrence, and no one would think anything of it. He headed through the garden toward the festival grounds, eyes still on him. “A visit to the book tent is also in order. Perhaps I’ll start there.” He greeted villagers along the way, all the while aware of the presence following him. Stopping at a flower stand, he smiled at the foxling family and complimented them on their beautiful arrangements. He made the usual agreement of purchasing any flowers left once the festival had ended. He always had use for flowers.
Inhaling the wonderful scent of lavender from a lovely bouquet, he discreetly glanced around him. Nothing. With a smile and a bow of his head, he left the flower stand and headed for the book tent, confident his shadow wouldn’t be so foolish as to follow him inside. The tent was busy, and Ezra was well versed in concealing himself. The Soldati weren’t warriors in name alone.
Slipping out the back of the tent, he shifted in the blink of an eye and darted into a thicket of nearby shrubs, his great tiger mass swallowed by the shadows. The Eye remained near his flank, its golden sheen dimmed so as not to give away their position. With sharp feline eyes, he scanned the festival grounds. There were many Orso scattered among the crowd; some were villagers from the Orso realm, others warriors. Ezra crouched low to the ground, his body still. He flattened his ears against his head, his razor-sharp claws extending as he sensed a menacing presence.
“Can you see anything?” he asked the Eye with his mind.
The Eye remained silent.
Slowly Ezra stalked the festival grounds, using the trees and shrubbery, as well as the many tents, barrels, boxes, and wagons to conceal himself. The scent of his fellow Soldati warriors filled the air, along with the distinct heady mix belonging to the many foxlings. Ezra’s keen sense of smell caught a whiff of an Orso, and he swiftly set off on the hunt. His muscles tensed as he stopped behind a small area sectioned off for archery. Several Orso and Soldati tested their skills, each side teasing and laughing boisterously.
“Anything?” Ezra asked hopefully. Still no response. With a quiet huff, Ezra retreated. He no longer felt eyes on him. The traitors had to be here somewhere. A chill swept through Ezra as the Eye pulsed.
“Seek out Segreti.”
The urgency in the Eye’s voice had Ezra darting through the trees, nose to the air and mouth open as he searched out Segreti’s scent. Was Segreti in danger? If anyone so much as laid a claw on him, Ezra would tear them limb from limb! He skidded to a halt at his unexpected thoughts. What in the name of the Goddess was the matter with him? His ferocity wasn’t a surprise. He’d defend his king, his prince, and his kingdom with all the power he possessed, but when had Segreti become his to defend?
“Find Segreti. Now.”
With a huff, he took off in search of Segreti, refusing to think about how he was coming to see the Orso general as his.
What a beautiful day. The sounds of the festival’s commencement filled the air and an ocean of guests flooded the field, their excited voices carrying in the summer breeze. In the distance near the archery games, Segreti spotted several Orso warriors, a small group of which huddled together. The thought that his former Orso warriors might be traitors both pained him and angered him. When Pavoni had come to power, his army had been filled with uncertainty. The more time that passed under Pavoni’s rule, the more their army’s loyalty diverted to Segreti, leaving only a few to embrace Pavoni’s tyranny. Most of Pavoni’s supporters had left after his demise, but a select few remained in their kingdom, hidden, plotting. Rogue Orso warriors weren’t his only concern. For months now he suspected someone in Queen Verity’s court was helping the traitors. They seemed to always be one step ahead of Queen Verity’s Orso, a feat only achieved with help from within the court.
Segreti neared the group, grinning when a friendly face shouted boisterously at his approach. Fausti was a noble warrior who had often been found at Segreti’s side. A young Orso, eager to learn, always honorable.
“General!” Fausti threw his arms out as he approached Segreti, his seemingly boundless energy never failing to bring a smile to Segreti.
“Retired general,” Segreti reminded him, laughing when Fausti drew him into a fierce embrace. Fausti might be young, but he was nearly as big as Segreti. After his retirement, Segreti remained close to Fausti, keeping an eye on him, offering council, and most importantly, attempting to keep him out of trouble. A futile endeavor.
“Speaking of retirement, I heard the Soldati have welcomed you into their realm. Is it true the king invited you to live in his kingdom?” Vestri asked, smiling wide as he greeted Segreti. Gori and Lazzari followed with hearty embraces of their own while Coiro and Basso merely nodded in greeting. They were good warriors but had always been reserved, keeping to themselves.
“He has,” Segreti replied. He’d been as surprised as the rest of them when Khalon offered him a place in his kingdom where he could peacefully live out the rest of his immortal life. It was given freely, but not given to many.
Lazzari whistled. “That’s quite the honor. Few have been extended such an invitation.”
“Is anyone truly surprised?” Fausti asked, bowing regally at a passing foxling. “What ruler wouldn’t want General Segreti residing in their realm? The Soldati have always been very clever.”
A pretty foxling carrying a stack of books almost as tall as he was raced toward them. He tripped on a tree branch, the books flying out of his hands as he stumbled forward.
“I’ve got the books,” Basso and Coiro called out in unison.
Fausti caught the foxling before he could hit the ground. “And I’ve caught this enchanting creature.”
The foxling blinked up at him before narrowing his eyes. “You may put me down now.”
Everyone snickered, and Fausti laughed as he helped the foxling to his feet. The foxling’s hands were white, fading into fair skin, his hair sandy, and his eyes big and dark. A fennec foxling. He was a tiny little thing, but by the looks of him, quite fierce.
“If not your thanks, may I at least have your name?” Fausti asked cheerfully, earning himself a glower.
“Sansone.”
“And where are you off to in such a hurry, Sansone?”
Sansone sniffed, his chin lifted high. “That is none of your concern, Orso.”
Segreti held back a smile. It would seem young Sansone wasn’t a fan of the Orso. Segreti couldn’t blame him. Not after the pain Pavoni had brought to his home. Foxlings were very protective of their own, and once wronged, were not easy to appease. Earning their trust was quite the endeavor.
“You’re right,” Fausti replied, his smile wide. “Forgive my boldness. I was simply struck by your beauty.”
Sansone rolled his eyes. “I’m certain. Now, if you’ll give me my books, I’ll leave you all to your skulking. Or whatever it is Orso do.”
“Ouch.” Fausti placed a hand to his heart. “You wound me.”
Segreti chuckled at Sansone’s uninsp
ired expression. The foxling was having none of Fausti’s charm. Basso and Coiro handed the foxling his stack of books.
“May I at least help you with your books?”
“No.” Sansone made to leave but turned to Segreti and nodded. “General.” Before he took off again.
Fausti shook his head in amusement. “Such a captivating creature.”
“At least he doesn’t hate Segreti,” Lazzari pointed out with a laugh.
Fausti’s lopsided grin said he wasn’t offended by the foxling’s abrasive response. In fact, he seemed even more intrigued, following the foxling with his gaze until Sansone had disappeared into the crowd. “Visiting the Soldati realm is always such a feast for the senses. I particularly approve of all the lovely creatures.”
“Come,” Vestri said. “Let’s find a table and enjoy some of this lovely Soldati hospitality. I hear Nestore has once again provided his famous fruit wine.”
They headed for a table not far from one of the many food tents, but far enough away to provide a little privacy. Basso and Coiro went off to fetch them all wine as they took their seats at the round wooden table.
“I hope you’ve all been keeping yourselves out of mischief.” Segreti gave Fausti a pointed look, making his friend laugh loudly.
“Why do you always look at me? I’m not the only one who gets up to mischief. Just the other day, Lazzari was nearly knocked unconscious by one of Queen Verity’s ladies in waiting.”
Segreti arched an eyebrow at Lazzari, who frowned and rubbed his head.
“I still have a bump.”
“What did you do?” Segreti narrowed his gaze. Lazzari had a certain reputation, one that involved being a little too forward.
“All I did was comment on how lovely her gown looked.”
Fausti snorted. “Yes, while staring at her ample bosom.”
“I couldn’t help it. It was right there!”
Segreti shook his head. “One of these days, your lechering will get you in over your head.” Segreti had warned Lazzari countless times over the centuries.
“Especially now,” Gori said, shaking his head. “So many new rules. It’s hard to keep up with them.”
Fausti bristled, his smile falling away for the first time. “You prefer to have a tyrant’s rules? Ones he’d make up at his whim when it suited him?”
Gori held up his hands in surrender. “Forgive me, my friend. I meant no dishonor toward our queen. I’m not suggesting Pavoni—”
Fausti spit on the grass at the mention of Pavoni’s name, and Segreti placed a reassuring hand on his friend’s arm. There had been no love lost between Fausti and Pavoni. He was yet another of the bastard’s victims. Fausti might not have had a choice in serving his king, but he’d despised Pavoni with every fiber of his being.
“Let’s speak of more pleasant things,” Vestri suggested. “Khalon is a most fortunate king, isn’t he? Imagine being gifted with such a young and beautiful mate.”
Fausti perked up and nodded his agreement. “Not even half a century old! I can’t fathom it.”
“Yes, well, let’s not forget the prince was born and raised among humans,” Lazzari added.
“He might have been born and raised by humans,” Segreti said, “but make no mistake, he’s powerful and will protect his king at all costs.” Vestri lifted a questioning brow, and Segreti quickly cleared his throat. “Not that Khalon needs protecting.”
“As pretty as the prince may be, I would not wish for such a mate. Far too much upkeep. Plus, he’s a Sauger.” Fausti waggled his eyebrows. “Can’t get into trouble when your mate is a prophet.”
They all laughed, then cheered when Basso and Coiro returned with their tankards of wine. Segreti thanked them for his and took a sip. The Soldati truly did know how to feast.
“What of the king’s second?” Gori asked. “His mate is a foxling.”
Vestri shook his head in wonder. “A foxling Soldati. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“He’s far too delicate for my taste,” Lazzari said with a grunt. “I’d fear crushing him in my sleep.”
Gori grinned wickedly. “Or during some other bedroom activity.”
Most of the others agreed. Fausti glanced at Segreti, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, before speaking up. “There’s the king’s healer. He—”
“No,” Segreti growled. “There will be no talk of the healer.”
“And why might that be?” Vestri asked, studying him.
Segreti fought the urge to punch the smug grin off Vestri’s face.
“Perhaps the general has eyes on the healer for himself,” Gori said with a knowing smile.
“Watch your tongue,” Segreti warned.
“Why do you not make a claim on him?” Fausti asked, curiosity filling his warm brown eyes.
“The Soldati do not claim mates in the same manner as the Orso.”
Orso mating was simple. When a warrior found a potential mate, he made a claim. If the claim was accepted by the intended and no other Orso challenged said claim, the mating would be presented to the queen for blessing. Once the blessing was given, the mates would bond, and it was done. Mates were chosen on several factors, from strength to virility. Sentiment rarely factored into the process.
“The Soldati are passionate creatures. They tend to select mates based on emotional connections.”
Lazzari huffed. “Sounds exhausting.”
“I admit he’s intriguing,” Fausti said. “The Soldati Eye flows through him, gifting him with unimaginable power, and yet he chooses only to use his gifts for healing.”
Which was why Segreti assumed the Eye had chosen Ezra. In the wrong hands, who knew what destruction the Eye could cause?
Fausti took a big gulp of his drink. “I hear he’s always lost in some book or in his herb garden. Odd for a Soldati warrior.”
“But he’s very pleasing on the eyes,” Gori offered.
Lazzari nodded. “Agreed.”
“What did I say?”
“Come, General. If you feel affection toward him, you should make it known.”
Fausti’s concern was touching. Segreti shook his head. “His soul is filled with warmth and virtue. I dare not sully it.”
Fausti cleared his throat. “Um, General…”
“I’m a beastly weathered Orso general covered in battle scars, with no army to command and a soul too battered to fight. He is beautiful and sweet, the light in him shining brighter than any sun. I have nothing of worth to offer him.”
“I would have to disagree, General.”
Segreti’s eye widened, and he slowly sat up straighter. He turned to find Ezra standing there, a book hugged to his chest and a timid smile on his handsome face, but there was something else in his eyes. Ezra had sought him out for… some reason. And where was the Eye? Its absence meant this encounter was more than it seemed, and Segreti would be wise to play along. Ezra lifted his gaze to meet Segreti’s, an intensity those who didn’t know him well enough would miss.
“I would say a noble and loyal heart capable of great sacrifice and love is worth its weight in gold. Whomever you give your heart to will be a lucky fellow indeed. I pray he’ll be worthy of such a gift.”
Segreti opened his mouth to reply, but no words came. Fausti elbowed him sharply, and Segreti asked, “Do you think it possible this fellow might feel some affection for this noble and loyal heart?”
Ezra’s cheeks went pink, his eyes darting to the others before returning to Segreti. “I do.”
Segreti stood slowly. “And why has this fellow not made his sentiments known?”
“Perhaps matters of the heart have always been somewhat of a puzzle for him.” Ezra’s gaze lowered to his book. “Perhaps he fears he has nothing to offer such a great and noble warrior.” Ezra leaned in to whisper loudly, “They say he’s a bit of an odd one.”
Everyone chuckled quietly behind Segreti.
Segreti laughed softly. He placed his fingers to Ezra’s chin and lifted his face. “Pe
rhaps odd is just what this Orso general needs.”
Ezra’s smile filled Segreti with warmth. “Would you care to accompany me to the gardens?” He held up the book he cradled to himself. “I found this wonderful story of an Orso prince. It’s very possibly fiction, but the prose is exquisite.”
Segreti didn’t question the request. “I would love nothing more than to accompany you and hear of this tale that seems to have enchanted you.” He excused himself from his brethren, promising to catch up with them at a later time. He also ignored Fausti waggling his eyebrows at him.
As they walked side by side, Segreti waited until they were far enough away not to be overheard. “What is it?”
“The Eye urged me to seek you out.”
“Why?”
Ezra shook his head. “I don’t know, but the moment I neared your table, it took off. It’s close by but remains hidden.”
“Do you think it suspects any of the Orso I sat with?”
“It’s very likely. We’ll wait in the garden. Perhaps when it returns, we’ll know a little more.”
The gardens were stunning, but then that was no surprise, considering the rest of the castle grounds. He’d heard the gardens were particularly favored by the prince, which would explain why they were immaculate, filled with colorful flowers of every variety, lush shrubs, and trees. Birds chirped happily; squirrels and tiny woodland creatures frolicked. It was like something out of a fairy tale.
Ezra’s expression softened. “Forgive my boldness, but I must admit the Eye having insisted I seek you out doesn’t change how happy it made me to do so, or the words spoken between us.”
Joy washed over Segreti, and he brought Ezra into his arms for a sweet, tender kiss. “You don’t know the exhilaration your words bring me.”
“I think I might,” Ezra replied shyly. He took hold of Segreti’s hand and led him toward a huge tree with many branches, its sparkling green leaves providing wonderful shade. “Sit with me.” Ezra took position at the base of the tree and crossed his legs at the ankles, the buckles of his boots clinking together at the movement.
Segreti made himself comfortable beside Ezra, his larger frame eclipsing a great portion of the tree’s trunk. “You said the Eye insisted that you seek me out. Are you saying it speaks to you?”
The Soldati General (Soldati Hearts Book 3) Page 6