Julia Talbot - Tomb of the God King by Julia Talbot

Author:Julia Talbot [Talbot, Julia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

"Your American friend, Lawless. He is far too

demonstrative. Have him keep at least at arm's length, hmm?"

With that he was gone, leaving me staring for long moments at the flap of my tent. When no one else came, I slept.

Chapter Sixteen

The king sat on his throne, still as a statue, his tall crown glinting in the firelight. He watched impassively as the dark man with eyes like holes in the sky waved his arms and chanted, a scroll open before him on a carved black table.

The room filled with smoke, heavy with herbs, and as the dark man called upon the forces of the gods, dark forms began to take shape in the corners of the room.

Each one resolved itself into the shape of a great, shaggy hound with glowing red eyes. Each came to the dark man and rested their heads against him, waiting. Staring.

The man turned to the king, demanding the names of all those who defied the king's need for more sacrifices.

When the king spoke, his lips barely moved, and his voice was reedy as an old man's.

Then the dark man turned and sent each hound on its way, with a man to hunt. With a name to strike out of the book of souls forever.

I was not then a man given to fanciful dreams. So when I woke to yet another one, the fourth in a week, I made it a point to take time to ponder what they might mean. I sat at the dining tent, the irony of that not lost on me. I made my own tea.

Though still not back to fighting trim, I felt more than recovered enough to be back to work. I had examined the site the day before, checking after Silad, which I needn't have, really. The only thing that concerned me was the men. They worked in a sullen silence, no singing to be heard. That usually meant trouble.

I had asked Silad about it, and his answer was that no one liked the attention from the press. After a week or so, however, that died down, and things began to get back to normal.

So, why were the men so silent?

Between the sleepless nights and the nerve wracking days, I admit, I tired easily. So when I sat to try and make heads or tails of my dreams, I made no progress.

Instead, I thought of Lawless. I missed him, both his face and his touch. He was a canny man, and I had no doubt he had overheard or heard elsewhere what Marion had said. That rumors were circulating. No doubt he wanted to give them time to cool off, but I wanted to see him. Badly.

Finally, I simply set myself to writing down the recurring facts of the dreams to share with him later. The king looked like the classic statues of Osiris, the once King of All Egypt and ruler of the underworld. In fact, his face looked exactly like the little golden statue Zavigny possessed. The dark man was no doubt the little black statue, despite the differences in shape.

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