Elisha Rex by E.C. Ambrose

Author:E.C. Ambrose
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2015-06-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

The mancers gaped back at him, startled by his arrival, but not leaping into action at the appearance of an enemy. Drawing up his knowledge of the archbishop, Elisha affected his manner. He sighed, glancing at the heavens. “Surely you must know better than to leave yourselves open like this, and now I am able to surprise you? Really.” He affected the slightest drawl, and toyed with the heavy ring upon his finger.

The tall woman stepped lightly nearer, then planted her hands on her hips, gazing up at him. Elisha felt the casual stroke of her awareness, inquiring into his, and he smiled, projecting nothing, allowing nothing to pass his wall. Dark hair tumbled down to her waist, nearly concealing the skin that hung against her back—a small, slender child’s skin that made Elisha’s stomach churn. He prayed they would not notice the sweat that streaked his palms.

“You’ve been perfecting that guise,” the woman said. “It’s hard to feel you separate from him.”

“When you’ve got a man’s blood on your hands . . .” Elisha shrugged.

“You were not even sure he could be killed—is that not what the whole charade of his coronation was about, setting him up for disaster?” the bearded man demanded, his pronunciation foreign, his expression suspicious.

“It’s high time we were rid of the barber, though the little game was fun while it lasted.” The woman dangled something on a chain, a bit of skin that showed the weathering of premature age. She had slain the men Elisha marked after Martin’s death. “And now we can be sure nothing he ever said will be believed.” She cocked her head with that coy smile. “I was right then, Jonathan? It was her death that broke his defenses? Oh, he must have been a tasty one.”

“Yes, what did happen back there?” The bearded man strode up, pushing the flapping arms of his talisman back over his shoulders.

The third, a stocky blond, wore the skin of his victim slung about his hips like a dancing belt. He hooked his fingers over it now as he slouched up to join them. “What about that, Your Grace? I lured off the guards like you said and left you to it, but I could sense there was trouble.”

“Trouble indeed. You don’t know half the night I have had,” Elisha said, letting the edge of cold flow through his voice. “Even with her death in my hands, the barber put up a struggle. I hope today will run more smoothly, starting with one of you fetching me the king.”

“Poor thing,” said the woman brightly. “Have you suffered much? Will you share?” Her tongue darted out, pink and moist, to stroke her lips.

Elisha stifled his revulsion. He had made this nasty little show, and now he had to play his part. “Later, my love, don’t you agree that anticipation is half the fun?”

She tossed back her head with laughter. “The invasion must be going well, then, if it’s time to kill the king.”

They knew about France, and the invasion triggered the next stages of their plan—whatever that might be.

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