Oath Breaker by Marie Bilodeau

Author:Marie Bilodeau
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: S&G Publishing

28

Dayshon had visited all the wounded and spoken to the families of the fallen. His legs hurt where the prosthetics hugged him, wood against scarred skin. He’d wanted to look the families in the eye. He hadn’t wanted them to kneel, and so he stood.

Pain on scars. The tang of magic in his palace. Screams echoing in his mind. He wanted to move his ankle so badly. To lessen the tension that had lived there since the Days of Blood, gripping muscle and marrow. But he couldn’t. He’d lost his feet, burned by magic, and to save his life, the healers had sacrificed everything below the knees.

He’d been lucky to survive. Had the Circle been able to use its magic, they might have saved more of his leg. But by then, the corrupted magic had killed most of their rank.

He stood straight, nodded as the remaining visitors left, his loyal captain by his side, staying close in case he should need help walking. He didn’t want to need help now. He’d accepted that he did often, of course, and Cassara had been his rock.

At first, he’d thought a broken king was wrong for a broken kingdom. That someone whole should lead them. Cassara had had to step into many duties while he healed, the queen taking care of everything from adapting their home to building new ones for their people. Shoring up defenses while shoring up hearts. Inspiring others to live while she gave life herself.

“Shall we head back, Your Majesty?” Captain Tralin asked softly at his side.

Cassara was now planning with Avarielle and Shirina, and whatever secret connected the three. She’d come back from the Bloody Mountains a different person, if he was honest. Still the same, but different. With a longing deep within her that he couldn’t alleviate, no matter how he tried. Like a part of her had been left behind.

He’d asked the warrior once. Avarielle had darkly said that they’d all left a piece of themselves back there. That the battle wasn’t over, and someday Siabala would rise again.

He’d thought it was failure that drove them. It drove the sorceress, building her new Circle, their children among their students, though not adepts. That had been Cassara’s wish, to support Shirina and ensure none of her descendants would be caught so unawares in future generations.

“Let’s walk the perimeter,” Dayshon said, his captain nodding stiffly. Walking the perimeter meant he would be vulnerable to attack. Two Circle witches, a Crimson Cloak and an Orange Cloak, kept pace close by, as did four other guards. He was well protected, and his people might need to see their king.

He might need to see his people, too.

Dayshon’s first step was clunky, the prosthetic’s ankle stiff and awkward. He had to focus on his first few steps before his mind remembered how to walk with it on. He leaned his weight on his cane, using it to balance, his other hand behind his back as a counterweight.

The cane was made of the same wood as the prosthetics.

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