Born Assassin Saga Box Set by Jacqueline Pawl

Author:Jacqueline Pawl [Pawl, Jacqueline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-02T22:00:00+00:00

20

Mercy

Mercy explains as Nynev leads them across the camp and into a large tent scented with the coppery tang of blood. Calum blanches the second they step inside, taking in the sight of the several wooden tables scarred with nicks, the wall of wicked-looking knives of various lengths and shapes, and the elves butchering the skinned animals in the back of the room. Tamriel and Calum exchange a glance, lingering in the doorway. Mercy rolls her eyes. Doubtless neither of the highborn cousins has ever had to butcher his own meat or cook his own food.

“In or out,” Nynev commands. “Don’t leave the tent open or you’ll let the flies in. Here, help us lift this.”

Calum rushes forward to help Mercy and Nynev lift the doe onto the nearest table, his expression contorting in distaste at the sticky blood coating the floor. Nynev tosses the dead birds onto the neighboring table and jerks her chin to Tamriel, then to the carcasses. “You want to make yourself useful? Pluck the birds.”

“He’s the prince!” Calum objects, while Tamriel’s face flushes with embarrassment.

“Fine. Pluck the birds, if it please Your Highness,” Nynev repeats with a saccharine smile.

Calum crosses his arms. “He’s—”

“More than happy to help,” Tamriel says quickly, dragging his cousin toward the table. Wisely done, Mercy thinks. The Cirisians don’t need any more reasons to dislike him and his guards. She watches as he untwines the string from around the birds’ feet. He shoots Calum a warning glance, and his cousin reluctantly picks up a pheasant and begins plucking its feathers.

Mercy and Nynev make quick work of the deer, slicing through the thin skin and muscle over its stomach and ribs. Mercy had tried to hide her grin of satisfaction when Nynev had pointed to the rack of knives and told her to choose one for butchering the deer; she’d been eyeing the sharp, shining blades since they’d first entered the tent, and it feels good to have a weapon in her hands again. As they work on skinning the deer, Mercy glances at Tamriel, impressed to find him working quietly and efficiently, his face expressionless except for a frown of concentration. Even Nynev notices his work.

“It appears I underestimated your friend,” she whispers. “Perhaps he isn’t as weak as his father. The other one, though . . .” She grins as Calum pauses in the middle of plucking one of the birds to spit a small feather from his mouth, scowling, and Tamriel laughs. The sound rushes over Mercy in a wave, warming her as she fights to keep her expression neutral.

“You really have no idea what Cassius meant when he had a vision of your sister with the cure?” Mercy asks.

She shakes her head. “Not a clue. I’m sorry. But . . . you could ask some of the other clan leaders at Ialathan. Since the Cedikra grows better on the eastern islands, their healers might have more experience with it than ours.”

She spreads the deer’s hide onto a table

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