THE RED FEAST by Gav Thorpe

Author:Gav Thorpe
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2019-03-11T10:18:17+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

Athol was as breathless as his mount by the time he rode into view of the Khul encampment. He had accepted a few lessons from the Aridians, as a courtesy to his position, but had never spent long in the saddle. The noila was panting ferociously, its short hair slicked with a froth of sweat. He clung to the saddle horn with one hand, reins gripped tight in the other, legs clamped to the beast’s barrel torso as he’d been shown. His backside was sore, the wound in his chest flared every time his buttocks contacted the saddle, and his thoughts were awash with dire imaginings of what deeds Serleon might perpetrate in his absence.

He cursed himself over and over for lowering his guard. It was a mistake to think everyone acted with the same honour as he did, and certainly he should have heeded Khibal Anuk’s warning more closely.

He realised his thoughts had drifted from Serleon to Orhatka. Reliving the lawsmith’s betrayal, Athol clenched his teeth, wishing he had struck the man down before he had left. He imagined him now, whispering in the ear of Humekhta. He did not doubt that his own loyalty to her was reciprocated, but the lawsmith and the will of the other court members would wear upon her resolve.

Was it Orhatka that Khibal Anuk had tried to warn him about? This recent affair had the lawsmith at the heart of it, from the arrest of Williarch to the arrival of the Tithemaster. Fear was a motivator for many, and if the Tithemasters were half as powerful as the lawsmith had claimed there was much to be feared. But in every other dealing Athol had seen Orhatka’s strong convictions, and he was certainly not one to back down from attack, either intellectual or physical.

Could he have been so wrong about a man he had considered an ally, if not a friend?

It was better if he had misjudged Orhatka. If not, then darker motives leapt to mind. Was the lawsmith in league with the Tithemasters? If so, what did he hope to gain? Removal of Humekhta? Perhaps to become one of them?

Paranoia gripped Athol. He was as unfamiliar with the current situation as he was the steed to which he awkwardly clung and was racing headlong into the unknown in similar fashion.

Serleon.

He focused on the Aquitan, trying to remember any hint of the man’s hidden agenda.

There was nothing. He seemed a shallow man; his honour only extended as far as it did not inconvenience him. That he would fight for Williarch – and by extension the Tithemasters – spoke to a lack of morals. How exactly had he paid for his estates in Bataar?

The thought of the traitor among his people, within sword’s blow of his wife and son, made the spear-carrier’s gut knot with fear. Marolin was as deft with a blade as any, but if she did not expect attack… and Eruil was just a boy.

From a distance all seemed as usual within the camp.

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