Sanctuary 5.5 - Fated in Darkness by Robert J Crane

Author:Robert J Crane
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Publisher: Midian Press
Published: 2015-09-19T23:00:00+00:00

38.

J’anda

J’anda was tired of the Sovereign’s throne room, was sick to death of seeing Coeltes hiding in the shadows beneath the throne like some lapdog laying beneath his master’s chair, waiting for scraps. The scraps of me.

The oily scent was in the air, heavy and bitter all the way down J’anda’s throat as though he’d taken a swig straight out of a lamp. His wariness was dampened by the chill of the caves on his skin, and he stood there in his robes, hands folded in front of him in the sleeves, staring at Coeltes beneath the God of Darkness. If only the throne would collapse, it’d crush him and I could die happy. Well, perhaps not happy, but somewhat satisfied, especially if he became a hemorrhoid on the arse of the Sovereign. There would be a sort of justice in that, the two of them bound together forever …

“What do you have to say for yourself?” the Sovereign asked, his clawed fingers interlaced as he leaned back in his chair. His belly looked slightly fat the way he was sitting, as though he had just eaten a particularly heavy meal and was awaiting digestion.

“I thought I was called here to answer for Terian Lepos, not for anything I personally did,” J’anda said.

“He saved your life,” the Sovereign said.

“You saved my life,” J’anda said. “Perhaps at his urging, but … nonetheless.”

“Do you think I will hesitate to take it now?” the Sovereign asked, getting to his feet. Coeltes scrambled back, out of the way, clearly desirous of not becoming that hemorrhoid J’anda had hoped for. A great pity, that. Coeltes’s arms pumped, and J’anda realized he did not have the staff of the Guildmaster with him any longer. Curious. When did he dispense with it?

And why?

“I hoped you would wait until I gave you some cause to do so,” J’anda said with a shrug.

“And still you stand before me, seemingly fearless,” Yartraak said, the ground thundering as he stomped his foot. Not furiously, but for emphasis, J’anda thought.

“I remember standing before you, filled with fear,” J’anda said, looking up into the face of the God of Darkness, the grey flesh clear without the shroud about him. “It was a hundred years ago, during our first meeting. Do you recall?”

Yartraak’s red eyes honed in on him. “On the day of your award for bringing us victory in the Perdamun campaign.”

J’anda smiled ever so slightly. “I recall it well. I stood before you on trembling legs, and you told me how proud you were. I remember being fearful to the point of near sickness that I would say something, that I would do something that would offend you in some small way.” He looked back up at the god who stood before him. “A small way, only, see, for I could hardly imagine dealing a larger slight to what I perceived as your greatness at the time.”

“You were truly a hero then,” the Sovereign said ponderously, slowly, as he regarded J’anda with those red eyes carefully.

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