Kingdom Blades (A Pattern of Shadow & Light 4) by McPhail Melissa

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

As it happened, no one was, though they honored their former commander with a round of jeering, which in the case of the Converted, was as good as a toast. The real toast of the occasion, however, came when Trell told the men his true name.

Every soldier there knew some story of Trell of the Tides, adopted son of their Emir, hero of the Cry, and when they broke into applause and jesting shouts of ‘All hail Prince Trell, King of the Converted!’ Trell felt deeply moved.

“I have stories to share with all of you,” he called to the assembled crowd, “not the least of them how our kingdoms are now allied against the forces of Radov abin Hadorin and his wielder, Viernan hal’Jaitar.”

This announcement met with a cacophonous response. Trell listened carefully to the catcalls that floated to the top of the froth, gauging the general tone of their response by the slant of their jests. He’d taken care to name Radov and hal’Jaitar specifically, directing the Converted’s enmity at the men who were their enemies, rather than an entire nation.

Trell held up a hand to calm them. “Tonight, we’ll celebrate in honor of Raegus n’Harnalt,” and he motioned to the other commander and gave him a slight bow, “but today we travel—fast and hard.”

Raegus stepped forward into the murmuring. “You heard your A’dal. Break it down!”

As the men were jogging off to strike camp, Trell went in search of Loukas. He found the Avataren standing outside Rolan Lamodaar’s tent with Tannour Valeri and two others. The latter excused themselves before Trell could learn their names. He gazed after them, realizing that he had his work cut out for him if he meant to know all the men as he’d known his company at the Cry—especially if he meant to do it before they reached Khor Taran.

Trell looked back to the others. They’d gone silent, curiously so. He met each of their gazes, wondering what they weren’t saying, and then focused a smile on Loukas. “How are you feeling?”

“Much improved, Your Highness.”

Trell heard himself so named from his friend’s tongue and worried where this was headed. “Loukas—”

Loukas dropped his gaze. “I’d better go break down my tent.”

“After what you went through yesterday, surely someone else—”

“No…” Loukas flicked his gaze between Tannour and Rolan, “I should do it. That is…” he looked back to Trell, “unless that’s an order.”

Trell frowned slightly. “No.”

Loukas dutifully touched fingers to his lips, then laid the same hand across his heart. He darted another unreadable glance at Tannour and headed off.

Trell stared after him in stunned silence.

That was the Avataren Sign of Obeisance…

If he’d ever seen Loukas make that gesture before, he certainly hadn’t been able to connect it to its meaning, for his lessons on the manners and courtesies of Avatar—extensive lessons, as it happened—had been buried beneath Raine D’Lacourte’s truthbinding.

This time, however, Trell instantly recognized the Avataren genuflection.

He exhaled a slow breath as he stared after his friend. The great mystery of Loukas

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