Mercy's Battle (He Who Finds Mercy Book 3) by Katy Huth Jones

Author:Katy Huth Jones [Jones, Katy Huth]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Quinlan Creek Press
Published: 2016-05-14T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

Let not the sun go down upon thy wrath.

In the days after the High Chieftain’s banquet, Liall became more and more restless. He had not been summoned by his uncle since their private meeting, and Liall’s imagination toyed with all manner of reasons why. Had Hrotmar been so drunk he didn’t remember what they’d spoken about? Had he changed his mind about planning a full-scale invasion of Levathia? Or had he decided to make plans without consulting Liall again?

The other clans would be returning to their homelands soon. If no plans were made in the next few days, it would be too late until next year. Liall absolutely did not want to wait another year. If he didn’t accomplish his goals soon, the chance for revenge would be lost forever, he was certain of it.

Drognar approached him, his face more grim than usual. Liall scrubbed at his knife hand while he waited for the warlord. This promontory on the edge of the bowl valley was a perfect place for Liall to be alone, even while in sight of the black castle and the other clans’ camps, but it wasn’t a good place to talk privately. Liall was sure the sound of voices, even hushed ones, would travel within the valley. In fact, he’d begun to imagine himself speaking to all the clans from this high vantage point. It would be one way to make himself appear more physically impressive.

Drognar saluted Liall and went down on one knee. Liall frowned. What could the big warlord mean by this?

“The High Chieftain requests the presence of Liall, son of Roskilde.” Drognar looked up and locked his gaze with Liall’s. “Drognar, son of Blednir, recommends the son of Roskilde proceed with great caution.”

Liall’s gaze narrowed. Once again he wished he had the gift of Sight. “Is Drognar able to give a reason for this caution?”

The warlord glanced around and spoke more softly. “Drognar believes the High Chieftain wishes to make a public example of the son of Roskilde, and so his life is in great danger.”

Liall nodded. The time had come. His uncle was forcing him to act, and it would be the death of one of them.

“The son of Roskilde thanks Drognar, son of Blednir, for his warning.”

Drognar stood and gestured for Liall to precede him.

* * *

All the way to Lord Reed’s, which took three days from Lord Gowen’s castle on the coast of Southmoor, Merry’s restlessness grew. She was jealous of Hanalah, and even knowing how foolish was her resentment, it did not keep her from feeling it strongly.

Once the king’s progress entered the Southern Woodlands, melancholy from old grief stirred within Merry to add to her turmoil. The sight of flowers which had grown near the Brethren village brought back a rush of painful memories which mingled with her constant grief for Theo as well as her anguish over not being pregnant.

Entering Reed’s castle and hearing Hanalah’s proud father gush over his coming grandchild was more than Merry could bear.

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