The Beacon by Valerie J Freireich

Author:Valerie J Freireich [Freireich, Valerie J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Roc
Published: 2016-02-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Stefan lost the fight.

Pritchard was already turning aside as Stefan swung; Stefan’s fist landed glancingly on Pritchard’s left cheek. The impact stunned Stefan, who had never done such a thing, but Pritchard just grinned and stepped back.

Stefan assumed the fight was over. He felt childish but relieved, as though the idiocy of physical combat had calmed him. He stretched his fingers, which seemed more hurt than Pritchard’s face.

“Brawling with a nixt mirko, Stefan?” Pritchard spoke like a teacher chastising a usually obedient student. His face was a peeling patchwork of pale, flaking skin, red welts, and fading bruises from his illness. The grin didn’t help his appearance. “Let me show you how it’s done,” he said, and in one smooth movement, Pritchard kicked outward, from his side, straight into Stefan’s groin. Stefan gasped and bent over, too hurt to make a sound. Pritchard’s fist swung at him casually. Stefan might have avoided it if he’d had breath and sense to try, but instead the fist landed just under his chin in an upper cut that even Stefan sensed Pritchard had reined in. That knowledge hurt as much as the punch, which sent him sprawling backward on the open hillside, staring up at the beautiful blue sky. Pritchard stood over him.

“In Zona, the next move against someone stupid enough to start a challenge he can’t win might be this.” Pritchard raised his booted foot and held it a few inches above Stefan’s face, then slowly settled it just where Stefan, on Pritchard, had landed his blow. “It’s symbolic, don’t you agree, to grind a challenger into the dust? An Inlander lives a life full of symbols. The tenants’ annual gifts, the curtsies and bows. An estate ring from the Oblander. All those good things.”

Everyone on the hillside was watching: the clansmen Pritchard had arrested as they’d run from the cave, Pritchard’s ID agents, and worst, Beatrice. Everyone could see the depth of Stefan’s humiliation. They would feel it in his next dump, just as Pritchard knew it now.

Pritchard removed his boot from Stefan’s face. Stefan didn’t stir. He felt the dirt on his cheek even through the dust and soot from inside the cave. Pritchard was still watching him. “But my education isn’t just from Zona,” Pritchard said. “This is what I learned at school.” Pritchard’s foot hovered over Stefan’s groin, then the toe of his boot tapped Stefan’s side without hurting him. “Kidneys,” Pritchard said. He raised the position of his foot. “Ribs. Nothing too visible. Never let it be said that Per Ezio isn’t noble. How fine a man he is to have never left a mark!” Pritchard put his foot down without having kicked Stefan.

“I don’t believe you.” Stefan’s voice was rough. His throat ached from the harsh smoke inside the cave. don’t believe Romaric did anything to you, he said into their joined minds.

Then look.

Stefan saw Romaric Ezio through Pritchard’s eyes, the eyes of a friendless charity student. Tall, thin, and elegant in his customary black, often accompanied by a pack of hangers-on, Romaric was a threatening villain.

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