The Path of Man (The Soul Stone Trilogy Book 1) by Matt Moss

Author:Matt Moss [Moss, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-10-26T23:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

The enormous doors to the church stood wide open, allowing the early morning sunlight in, highlighting the beauty of the place. The hall was silent, as usual, but this time it was void of priests devoutly creating the silence.

Suddenly, the sound of gold chains rattling and boots stomping the floor echoed in the hall. The combination of the two in harmony, and at a high tempo, was seldom ever heard.

King George hastily made his way up to the high priest’s chamber. He reached for the handle, then paused when he saw the door slightly ajar.

Finding that odd, he cautiously pushed it open, the hinges creaking.

His eyes locked onto a trail of blood. Easing the door open more, he found the source. His face turned to horror when he saw John lying lifeless on the floor in a puddle of blood.

As the king made his way to the body of his trusted counsellor, his mind struggled to comprehend what he saw. This all had to be some bad dream. It couldn’t be real.

The truth hit him as the tip of his boot touched blood. It had congealed and George had to steel his nerves to keep from retching.

“Your Grace,” a smooth voice said, coming from the corner of the room.

George snapped his head around to find Victor standing by John’s desk. A pen rested amongst heavily worded sheets of paper.

The King’s face twisted, asking questions that his voice couldn’t find.

“An assassin, Your Grace, sometime in the night.” Victor tucked his hands into the sleeves of his black robe, his face stern and concerned, but not overly so. His tone empathetic and eyes soft, not looking away or blinking abnormally.

The King found his voice. “And you sit there. Writing a letter? Why didn’t you come to me!” he said with authority.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, I...”

“Enough of the ‘Your Grace’ horse shit!” the King snapped.

Victor opened his mouth, checked himself, then continued.

“I assumed you were busy with everything else after the attack,” he said. “I’m just following protocol.”

“What’s that? To do nothing?!” the King replied, growing more stern.

Victor looked at John, wanting to give the King the same courtesy.

Not yet, he thought and bit his tongue.

“I am writing to the Clergy in the independent cities,” he explained. “They are to be informed of any changes to the head of the church.”

“Like the high priest dying?” George spat.

“Yes,” Victor replied. “They will vote for John’s replacement, then hold the funeral ceremony here in Kingsport.”

“And you are the man to be his successor,” George stated. “God smiles on you.” His tone was irony.

“I am second to John, yes, but it is still up to the Clergy.” He took a step towards the King. “I just hope I can serve you as well as John did if I am elected.”

George snorted. “When did you get back? You were recently in Fortuna, yes?” he said.

Victor felt like he was being baited. Clever.

“I was in Fortuna before I met with the Clergy in Arcata. I arrived in the capital yesterday.

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