The Warlord and the Assassin: A Fantasy Romance Novella by Amano Mia

Author:Amano, Mia [Amano, Mia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-09-14T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Amina knelt before Elder Okuro, breathing in the faint, aromatic scent of herb smoke. Dried leaves had been thrown onto the hearth, as they burned, they filled his hut with a medicinal smelling haze.

The Elder had bad lungs, and the burning herbs helped treat chest infections. They also kept the mosquitoes away.

“Get up, girl.” Okuro coughed, and motioned to a low wooden stool beside him. “You’re not my student anymore. Come, sit by the fire.”

Amina nodded and perched on the stool beside the old man. Okuro looked at her with pale, rheumy eyes. He didn’t see much these days, but his sense of qwi was second to none.

He studied her for a long time, silent. Okuro then cleared his throat with a deep, hacking cough.

“Some students of mine saw you entering the Eratean camp, Amina. Now, I hear Jerik Garul’s army is on the move. They seem to be heading back over the border. What have you become mixed up in, former student of mine?”

Amina shifted uncomfortably on the hard stool. “Master Okuro, I was given a job, and I executed it. As you always told me, politics are not our concern. We can’t afford to ally ourselves with any cause but our own.”

Okuro closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Then, he stood and started to busy himself with a teapot that was boiling above the fire. “You are correct to the letter, as always, Amina. We don’t become involved in the politics of other tribes and empires. The way of the Inue has always been to stand apart, and for that reason, our tribe has survived centuries of war. We have seen entire civilizations rise and fall.” He poured tea into two small cups and handed one to Amina. She held it to her face, breathing in the bitter, acrid scent. The aroma of Okuro’s tea reminded her of childhood. “But we also follow the creed of Imril, Taker of Life and Lord of the Void. And what does he teach us, Amina?”

Amina’s recalled Tarak Chul, and the way he had regarded her. He’d seemed amused, even patient, but she hadn’t missed the deep hunger in his black eyes. Sitting before Elder Okuro, in his small hut, the way once sat before him as a child, she started to feel the sting of regret.

None of her other kills had made her feel this way before.

There was an unfamiliar feeling settling in her chest. She felt a tightness, an emptiness.

What was this feeling?

“What does Imril teach us, Amina?” Okuro sipped his tea, and waited.

Amina’s voice hitched as she said the words. “He tells us that death is balance, and in all things, we must seek to find balance.”

“It’s not wrong to refuse a job, child.”

“I had no choice.” Amina shook her head, looking towards the floor, unable to meet Okuro’s eyes. She let her defenses down, allowing him to sense the raging storm of her qwi. She was torn. “Garul has links with the Emperor’s people. He knows of Mira, and her role in the Palace of Arches.

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