Enchantment's Reach (Book 1) by Martin Ash

Author:Martin Ash [Ash, Martin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Outside Publishing
Published: 2013-11-09T00:00:00+00:00

The child sat alone upon the floor, cross-legged, his spine quite erect, small hands resting limply in his lap. He wore a short grey smock and breeches, notably in better repair than anything Ohirbe wore. He was of solid build with fine, intelligent, though not particularly attractive features. His skin was fair and blemish free, his hair also fair, falling in loose clusters beside his face. His eyes, an unusual dark violet in hue, met Issul's as she approached. His gaze was unchildlike and strangely confident, as was his general demeanour.

"Hello Moscul," said Issul, smiling. She lowered herself to her knees before him. "It is good to see you. How are you? I have brought something for you."

From within her cloak she produced a small package wrapped in cloth. She handed it to Moscul, who ignored it. His eyes never left her face.

"Take it, sweetie," urged Ohirbe from behind Issul. "Moscul, say thank you now. You know ‘ow to say thank you."

Still the child ignored the gift, and his gaze was unwavering. Still smiling, Issul unwrapped the little package to reveal a wooden figurine, the image of a soldier, with jointed, moveable arms and legs. She held it up, marched it in the air before the child.

"This is for you."

Still Moscul showed no interest. Issul gently laid the toy soldier upon his lap.

"Moscul!" Ohirbe scolded. "That's no way to behave!"

"It's all right," said Issul softly. "He’s bound to be unsure of me. He has never seen me before - at least, not since he was a tiny babe." She settled back on her haunches. "Moscul, I am--"

"I know who you are," the child said quite suddenly. His words were clear and perfectly formed.

"You do?" Issul felt a nervous quiver low in her gut.

"Of course. I knew the moment you entered the room. You are my aunt. Issul. Aunt Issul."

"That's right," replied Issul, disquieted. His manner was challenging and more than precocious. His violet gaze still held her, his features remaining set. He spoke unnaturally well for a three-year-old. "And how did you know that?"

The child gave a mocking shrug. "I am not stupid, you know."

"Moscul!" Ohirbe was beside herself with embarrassment. "Don't you speak so! Oh Mistress, I'm so sorry. I don't know what's come over 'im. 'e's never spoken like that before, not to anyone."

"Don't worry," said Issul lifting a hand to calm her. She was in little doubt now; there was something about this child. Moscul returned her gaze. His eyes had never left her face. He had not blinked once.

"What's more, you are the Queen," he said. "Queen Issul, fair spouse of Leth, King of Enchantment's Reach."

There was a great stuttering gasp from Ohirbe.

"It's true, isn't it?" declared Moscul. "Tell her."

Issul looked up at Ohirbe. The poor woman was white-faced and trembling, her hands to her mouth and pure terror in her eyes. Issul slowly stood. "Yes, it is."

At that Ohirbe gave a loud moan and fell to her knees, sobbing, her head bent almost to the floor.

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