Diablo: The Sin War - Birthright - Book One by Richard A. Knaak

Author:Richard A. Knaak
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blizzard Entertainment
Published: 2020-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

Achilios found Serenthia not where he had expected, that expectation being that Cyrus’s daughter would be assisting Uldyssian with his task. Instead, the hunter discovered the dark-haired woman sitting where she could see the proceedings, but was far enough away not to be a part of them. Her eyes were, of course, on Uldyssian—to ask otherwise would have been unthinkable even to Achilios—although as the archer approached, his own keen gaze noticed hers surreptitiously shift to Lylia, then back to the son of Diomedes again.

“I brought you some water,” he said as way of interjecting himself into her private world. He offered her the sack he had carried with him, freshly filled at Master Ethon’s estate. Ever practical—save when it came to love—Achilios had first paused to gather something to drink before chasing after his friend.

Serenthia took it with a nod of thanks. She drank far more from it than Achilios assumed that she would, which meant she had been sitting out here for quite some time, just watching. Likely Serenthia had run all the way here, fearing some imagined danger, whereas he had taken his time, somehow aware that Uldyssian was utterly safe.

When she was done, he took the sack back and remarked, “It’s truly astonishing, isn’t it, Serry?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’ve been his friend since we were children.” Without asking, he took up a place next to her. It was as forward as he dared get. Despite his sometimes gregarious appearance, Achilios was much more at home in the forest, alone with his quarry. In social circumstances, he felt only one step above Mendeln and, where the woman next to him was concerned, as awkward.

His comment caused her to look at him with such intensity that Achilios wondered what he had said wrong. Serenthia appeared poised to say something, but it was almost a full minute before a single word escaped her lips.

And when she did speak, it was not on the subject that he assumed it would be. “Why are the two of you friends, Achilios? You seem so different in so many ways.”

He had no answer save “Because we just are, I guess. We were friends the moment that we met.” He shrugged. “Children are like that.”

“I suppose.” Serenthia thought for a moment, then asked, “Is she what you would dream of?”

Now the subject he had expected was at hand. Serenthia had merely taken a more circuitous route to it. “Lylia? She is fair, to be honest, and no man would let his gaze pass over her without noticing that, but the same could be said for others, not merely her.”

He could barely have been more blunt—in his eyes—but she seemed not to understand that he meant her. “I know that to us she is exotic and I can understand why Uldyssian would fall for her, but it was all so quick, Achilios.”

“It can be like that.” It had been like that for him … in a sense. One day, he had known only Serry the impish child.

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