Stormlord's Exile by Glenda Larke

Author:Glenda Larke [LARKE, GLENDA]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, FIC009000, Adult, Science Fiction
ISBN: 0316069132
Google: dz4KSQU2waMC
Amazon: B0047Y0AU0
Goodreads: 11646535
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2011-08-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Scarpen Quarter

Breccia

Level Two, Breccia Hall

Sunlight streamed into the stormquest room. Amberlyn was in her cradle, enjoying the feel of the sun on her bare legs, while her father just enjoyed watching her. He could tick off the precious moments of wonder: the first time she stopped crying the instant he picked her up, the first time she turned her head to look at him when she heard his voice, the first time she smiled at him and captured his heart all over again, the first time she made a wild clutch at his face and bopped him on the chin. Every moment was magical.

Selfishly glad that Senya never came near her now, or even cared enough to ask anyone about her progress, he sometimes thought of Amberlyn not as Senya’s child at all, but as Terelle’s. And then he would be awash with horrible wrenching guilt, made all the worse because he couldn’t explain to her in person. Whenever he thought of her receiving and reading his letter, he would break out in a cold sweat. He had a distaste for making excuses and suspected his account just made him appear pathetically guilty.

And then news came from Samphire. The bearer was Sardi, the younger son of Messenjer, and he brought a letter from the Bastion. Jasper greeted the man, took the letter and sent him down to the kitchens to get some food. He sat down on a chair next to Amberlyn’s cradle and broke the seal.

Two sheets of linen paper unfolded on his lap, written in spidery black script horizontally, then crossways over the top to save on paper, all in the shaky lettering of an old man with arthritic hands. With wrenching disappointment, he realised there was nothing from Terelle.

He read the sheets through, scanning quickly, then went back and read each line with care, absorbing every nuance, every hint, every scrap of information he could extract. The news was no better the second time around. Feroze had been murdered. Terelle and Russet had been seized. Killed? No one knew for certain. The Bastion was working to send Elmar and Dibble back to rescue her, better prepared this time.

The words danced and blurred. In his frustration, he wanted to pound his fists against the desk, or fling water from one end of the city to the other. Most of all he wanted to grab his palmubra and his water skin and ride for Khromatis.

He forced himself to calm. To consider the other thing in the letter that leaped from the page at him. The Alabasters had changed their policy. They had made the decision to withdraw all their workers from Khromatis and to refuse trade with their neighbour, until such time as an apology had been received in Samphire, Terelle had been returned, and the families of the Alabasters who had died were compensated. If these terms were not met, then all ties with Khromatis would be permanently severed.

Frowning, he pondered what impact such a policy would

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