Blackstone by Shea Godfrey

Author:Shea Godfrey [Godfrey, Shea]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781626391239
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2014-08-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Marteen Salish stopped beside the high-backed chair and waited in silence.

Malcolm stared at the raised etching upon his goblet and noted how the firelight caught upon the sword held by King Bertram. His armor had faded over the many years, rubbed down by the countless times the cup had been lifted to the lips. Not by Malcolm alone, but certainly by his hand as of late. Bertram did not seem to mind.

He was well into his fourth hour of being banished from the throne room, and he was sick of it. He was not a child and he was not an afterthought. He was soon to be the High King of Arravan, and he would make this fact known in ways no one would expect. He should have been there, to control what happened next.

Although he understood he alone knew what needed to be done to secure the kingdom’s future, he had been truly surprised by his father’s actions. Obviously the violence of the Fakir attack had been extreme, but the High King did not have the luxury of reacting as his father was currently responding. The High King was required to stay above the fray. He was required to make the hard decisions for the good of his country.

Perhaps his father was too old for it all. His continuing to make the wrong decisions would clearly indicate age—and the supposed wisdom that came with it—was no longer his friend.

Darry should have been clapped in chains and locked in the jails beneath the Keep for what she had done. He was not willing to accept that she was free and left to influence those around her. It was not his father’s smallest misstep by far, but it was the one that galled him the most, for the moment.

He tasted the warm spring vintage and set the cup upon the table beside him before he looked up.

“Serabee has escaped, according to Jefs.”

Malcolm allowed a smile to slip across his lips. “And?”

“And Darrius has challenged Joaquin to the Blooded Duel.”

Malcolm closed his eyes. “He ordered the death of the woman who is to be my bride, the woman who will bear my sons.” The logs of the fire crumbled and the ashes popped.

“It seems as if being regent in Lyoness until your son comes of age was not enough to satisfy Joaquin’s ambition,” Salish suggested in a careful voice.

“It was enough,” Malcolm said as his temper rose, “and he knew it. More than enough for the likes of him. Bharjah’s dregs could not hope for more.”

“Perhaps he knew you would never keep your end of the bargain.”

Malcolm let out a breath of laughter. “Perhaps.”

“I’m not sure that I understand what he hoped to gain by such an all-out attack on the Keep,” Salish admitted.

“The Nightshade Lark, murdered upon Arravan soil? Don’t be an ass!” Malcolm came to his feet and Salish stepped back. “Do you think this was Joaquin’s idea? Do you think he is clever enough for a game so vast?”

“Did he act upon Bharjah’s orders, then?”

Malcolm frowned.

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