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Authors: Jim Galford

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Bones of the Empire (92 page)

BOOK: Bones of the Empire
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They hurried to keep up as Phaesys neared the tent, the archers behind them continuing to hold their weapons at the ready. Estin did not see any of them ease the pull of their bows until he stepped into the tent, where oil perfumes instantly dulled his sense of smell.

The tent had been set up much like a noble’s entry hall in Corraith. A single carpet lay from the entrance to a tall wooden chair with ornate carvings. To either side of the throne, a dozen more human and elven soldiers stood at attention, their hands already on their swords. Estin had never seen any of them before. Even Marr was absent. Standing in the midst of his kidnappers’ tent, he still had no idea who Phaesys might be working with.

“Phaesys, go sit on your throne and tell us what this is all about,” Feanne said with more than a hint of disgust. When one of the soldiers met her eyes, she growled and the man quickly looked back at the ground.

From what Estin could see, all of the guards were reluctant to confront them, which struck him as odd. Who would bring soldiers with them who would not willingly face the people you were kidnapping?

“I would not dream of it,” Phaesys answered. He stopped near the throne, took a knee, and stared at the ground, the same way most of the soldiers were. “Master, they are here, as you ordered. They are unarmed—somewhat—and their bonds removed.”

Estin looked around the room nervously, trying to plot an escape. The archers from outside had closed in on the entrance and were visible through the partially open tent flap, giving him few options. They would have to go through the side of the tent to get away, and that meant taking a weapon from one of the soldiers to cut the thick canvas. He was so wrapped up in trying to find a way out that he almost did not notice as a heavily robed woman walked up to the throne from the shadows at the back of the tent.

The woman was no taller than Feanne or Estin. With the bejeweled veil she wore, he initially did not realize she was a wildling—the veil muddled the look of her muzzle when she faced them. Large blue eyes stared at him from the space between her hood and her veil, while a clawed hand rested on one of the throne’s arms as she hesitated to sit. Even the female’s tail was draped with silk, giving him little to go on as to her identity or even breed. Hints of makeup around her eyes and what he could see of her paws disguised even her natural fur coloring. Everything but her eyes was masked in some way, right down to her claws, which were painted a deep blue.

“Welcome to my lands,” she told Estin and Feanne, centering herself in front of the throne but not sitting. “Is there a problem? You both look ready to kill someone.”

Estin answered without thinking. “Phaesys betrayed us years ago. I don’t know you, but I want his head.”

The female turned to gaze at Phaesys, who still had not lifted his eyes from the ground. After several seconds watching him, she sat and replied, “The past is no longer my concern, so I must refuse. He belongs to me. I want no violence in my lands. You will leave him alone, and we will discuss this as civilized people.”

Estin looked over at Feanne, who gave him a very slight smirk. That was all he needed.

Lunging forward while Feanne intercepted the nearest of the soldiers, Estin grabbed for Phaesys’s sword. He got it halfway out of its sheath as Phaesys tried to stand. To his surprise, Phaesys was far faster than Estin expected, even after fighting him briefly, He countered with a punch to Estin’s midsection that knocked the wind out of him. Estin refused to back down. He kept his grip on the sword and managed to pull it free as he heard the female near the throne shouting something at him. Spinning away from Phaesys to ensure he could secure his grip on the sword, Estin readied himself for a fight he had craved for more than a year.

Estin came around and slashed across Phaesys’s midsection, drawing sparks from his armor. While Phaesys tried to regain his balance, Estin brought the sword up under Phaesys’s chin and grabbed him with a free hand, pulling him by the armor. Estin turned Phaesys around, yanking him close as he leveled the sword across his throat.

“I’m sorry, but we have some unfinished business,” Estin told the female on the throne, winking at her as he pulled Phaesys backward toward the entrance of the tent. From the corner of his eye, he saw Feanne kneeling atop one of the soldiers, with two more lying prone nearby. His path to the tent’s flap was clear, so long as the other soldiers stayed back. He had to hope those outside would hold their fire. “You don’t mind if we leave, do you?”

The remaining soldiers ran to block the exit, and Estin saw Feanne growl and spread her arms, ready to charge at them. Things were getting messy.

“I cannot let you leave with my property,” the veiled female said, standing and gracefully walking down the carpet toward him, though she stayed out of reach of his weapon. “Release Phaesys. Now.”

“Not happening,” Estin snapped, lifting the sword until he could feel Phaesys’s heartbeat through the blade. “If you want him to live, you will stop right there.”

The female’s eyes narrowed, but she did stop. “By law, my servants are my property. If you kill him, you will be hunted by the council’s soldiers for the rest of your days for assaulting my estate. Do not do this, Estin. We need to talk, not kill each other.”

Estin glanced over his shoulder and saw Feanne had moved to center herself against the soldiers. She was going to try to clear him a path if it came down to combat. Five armed men against Feanne, and Estin could practically feel their fear.

“Bring Alafa in here,” Estin said. “We’re leaving with her and Phaesys. If you don’t attack us again, we’ll let him go…maybe even in one piece.”

The female sighed and turned her gaze on Phaesys. From the depths of her robe, she produced a curved dagger. She threw it to Phaesys, who caught it midair, despite Estin tightening his grip, drawing blood. “Paladin, prepare to kill yourself.”

To Estin’s surprise, Phaesys pulled aside his chain shirt and put the knife to his chest, rather than attempting to use it against Estin.

“What the hells is this?” Estin demanded, shoving Phaesys away. “It’s no fun killing a traitor if he does the job for us.”

Stumbling and then taking a knee by the female, Phaesys kept the knife at his chest.

“I already told you,” the female said, touching Phaesys’s head gently. In doing so, Estin realized she wore a silver ring similar to the one Marr wore. “He is my property. He is also the head of my armies, and thus, my paladin. If I ask for his life, it is his duty to give it. He is no more a traitor these days than you are, Estin. Please, put the weapon down.”

Estin looked to Feanne, who gave him a curt nod. Reluctantly, he dropped the sword onto the carpet between himself and the female wildling. Raising his hands, he waited for the soldiers to tackle him and tie him up again.

“Much better,” the female said, poking the sword with her toe. Estin had not thought on it initially, but unlike Phaesys and most of the wildlings he had met from the deserts, the female wore no sandals. Only Marr and this female were barefoot like Estin and Feanne. “Are you certain you want to kill Phaesys?”

“Very,” Estin barked back at her.

Still, Phaesys did not look up.

The female reached up and pulled back her hood several inches, though it continued to cover her ears. The action revealed powdered fur that could have been as light as Phaesys’s or as dark as Feanne’s. Decorative dyed black lines ran from her eyes back to her ears, giving her an almost tiger-like appearance. She kept her veil on as she knelt in front of Phaesys and lifted his muzzle with her finger. With her other hand, she took the knife from his hand and hid it in her robes.

“I will give you a fair fight, old man,” she told Estin, looking at Phaesys. “He did betray you. I will not deny you that. When you have surrendered, I wish to have a more in-depth conversation about why you are here.”

“I’m not surrendering until one of us is dead,” Estin answered, and the female’s eyes told him she was grinning under the veil. Something about her seemed familiar, but that could wait. He wanted blood.

“Then let me set the terms,” the female said as she stood again. Sliding her paw under the blade of the sword, she flicked it straight up into the air and caught it by the hilt. She spun it expertly before driving it point-first into the sand halfway between Estin and Phaesys. “Phaesys will not take the sword. He will fight only if attacked. If you kill him, you will leave the desert lands forever. If you surrender, you and I will have a long talk.”

“Agreed,” Estin said, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of her offer. “What about Alafa?”

The female nodded and motioned to one of the soldiers near the entrance to the tent. The man ran outside and came back a moment later with five more people. Leading the group was Alafa, grinning as she looked around at the people in the tent. Behind her, four fox wildlings—one desert fox, who Estin realized was Marr, and three red foxes—came into the tent and waited near Feanne and the other soldiers. Estin quickly dismissed the group as no concern and returned his attention to Phaesys. A nagging voice told him to pay more attention, but he only had eyes for Phaesys. He knew letting his attention or resolve waver could cost him both his life and his opportunity.

“May I ask what he did that warrants all of this?” the female asked once the others were quiet. “A simple betrayal is usually grounds for a solid punch, not a public killing. I would offer to whip him, though I suspect that will not be good enough for you. You seem to have made up your mind before any argument could be offered.”

Estin growled at Phaesys, then slowly calmed himself before replying. “He used my daughter. Tricked her into thinking he loved her and then betrayed my whole family to our enemies. We barely survived.”

The female nodded sagely, backing away to leave nothing but the sword between Estin and Phaesys. “Normally I would ask your daughter to be the one to do this, but you have placed yourself in harm’s way, so I give you this chance. May I ask one more thing before you kill him?” She had reached the throne and sat slowly on it, crossing her legs and letting her bare paw bounce as though she were amused by the whole situation. Given the regal demeanor otherwise, the bare paws continued to nag at Estin as out of place. “A simple request.”

“Ask it and let’s be done with this.”

The female clapped her hands, and Estin heard the tent flap open and close behind him with several people entering. “I simply wished his kin to see this and make their own judgments.”

Estin listened behind him, hearing soft whispers. He ignored them, his anger at Phaesys consuming him. He had to kill Phaesys if it was the last thing he did. He had torn Estin’s family apart. Every bit of pain that his kits suffered alone on the far side of the world from their parents was Phaesys’s fault. He meant to make Phaesys suffer for every second that Estin had been without his children.

“You may fight when you are ready,” the female announced, sitting back on the throne to watch. The bouncing of her foot stopped abruptly, and in what little Estin could see of her, he could make out all the signs of one who was too tense to breathe.

Estin wasted no time. He dove for the sword as Phaesys stood, pulled it from the ground, and brought it up to Phaesys’s chest with enough tension in his arm to drive it through Phaesys’s armor. Despite the terms of the fight, Phaesys closed his eyes and spread his arms, pressing himself against the blade.

Estin tensed to strike, trying to find the motivation to kill a foe who was not even fighting back. As he tried to make himself push the sword forward, a pair of shrieks near the entrance to the tent startled him, almost making him drive the weapon into Phaesys out of shock. A second later, two small fox kits ran to Phaesys and latched on to his legs, staring up at Estin with large tear-filled eyes.

“What is this all about?” Estin asked, his determination fading. The kits were clearly desert foxes, but one had an odd red tint to his fur, and the other’s huge blue eyes seemed wrong for Phaesys’s breed. “You expect me to spare him because he fathered children?”

“No,” the female answered, more harshly than she had spoken to that point. She hopped to her feet and marched over to stand beside Phaesys and the two kits. “I expect you to do what is right. Will you kill a good father who made mistakes in the past while his children watch? I believe I know you, Estin. Would you do this to more children as it was done to you? Would you put these two through what you endured? Phaesys could easily overpower you at this range. He has made his choice. What is yours?”

BOOK: Bones of the Empire
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