Rezkin interrupted the man’s internal struggle. “You do not have to decide now. If you wish to serve me, report to the strikers on my ship before we leave.”
“They are here? Shezar and Roark?”
“Shezar is here,” Rezkin replied. Shezar and Roark had sworn fealty to him in front of everyone at the tournament, so it was not a surprise that their names were known. It was interesting that Akris had intercepted such detailed reports, however.
“Then you have more than two?” Akris said, failing to conceal his surprise.
Rezkin grinned but did not offer more. Instead he said, “The only information I desire from you at the moment is what you know about Erisial’s plans regarding me.”
Akris shook his head. “I am afraid I have nothing to offer on that front. The woman is fanatically independent. She tells no one of her plans, especially the important ones. I doubt she even confides in her consort.”
“What of him?” Rezkin asked.
“Serunius has been with Erisial for many years. He is intelligent enough to challenge her but smart enough not to. He is fiercely loyal and protective, and he is the father of Oledia and their two sons. I think he is truly in love with Erisial, although I know not if she returns the sentiment. Her callousness has allowed her to hold the throne for this long, and he had no small part in helping her to gain it. He is a master of several weapons, including the sword, and a natural battle mage. In short, he is the most desired champion in the queendom, thus far capable of meeting any challenge. At least, until you arrived, and she has made her interest in you obvious. She has declared you fair game and given her opponents time to scheme. I expect blood to be spilled. If you are not careful, it will be yours.”
“My blood does not run so freely,” Rezkin said.
“Every man’s blood runs like water when his guts are laid open, with or without a crown on his head.”
“Then I had best keep my guts intact,” Rezkin said as he held his hand out for his document. Once it was secured, he said, “I intend to liberate Ashai from Caydean and make it a peaceful, prosperous kingdom where my people will be safe. You may choose whichever side you prefer but know that the actions you take thereafter are by your choice and not the mere fulfilment of your oath.”
Rezkin left the ambassador’s suite, taking a different route on the return trip. It had started raining heavily, and he would not be able to scale the slippery walls. As he neared his next turn, he saw something curious. A young woman was scurrying down the opposite corridor when a masculine arm reached out from a doorway and yanked her into a room. Although she was out of sight, Rezkin heard a muffled squeal and the scuff of soft shoes across the floorboards. He might have stayed out of the mess if this did not happen to be the woman who had been assisting his companions. There was a good chance that Celise’s abduction had something to do with him.
He slinked silently toward the room and hovered beside the doorway. A quick glance revealed the entrance to a supply room. A hulking man in a guard’s uniform towered over the petite woman. He held Celise against the shelves with one hand pressing against her chest while his other clasped an illuminated mage stone.
“You do not have permission to touch me,” Celise said. “I will report you.”
“I think you won’t,” the man said as he inhaled the scent at her neck, the blonde whiskers of his beard scraping across her skin. “You like it.”
Rezkin pulled back as she turned her head toward him, even though her eyes were shut, as if she did not wish to see her assailant up close.
Her voice wavered as she said, “What do you want, Morlin?”
“I want you, Celise. Why will you not claim me?”
“You are a brute,” she snapped. “You take liberties, and you smell horrible.”
Morlin chuckled. “If you truly don’t want me, why have you not reported me?”
“You know why. Your matrianera has even less honor than you. If I report you, she will challenge me, and I will be forced to choose a champion.”
“And you have not, so I know you are not serious. You want me. Admit it already.”
“No, I do not want you. With my position, no one will act as my champion without a claim. I will not allow your disgusting ways to force me into making a claim I do not want.”
Anger filled Morlin’s tone as he said, “There is a reason no one would be your champion without a claim. You selfishly hoard the power of your position when you should be sharing it with a consort.”
“And you want me to choose you. That will never happen, Morlin. When I do finally choose one, I will be sure to send him your way.”
Morlin laughed. “Then you will be sending him to his death, for I will not hold back, no matter the terms of the duel. In fact, I will take out anyone you claim. You will be mine, Celise.”
Realizing the confrontation had nothing to do with him, Rezkin was once again faced with a conundrum. Logically, he should walk away. Getting involved would only cause him unnecessary problems, and he could not foresee any benefits. Celise was ro, though. He had told Frisha that he had found some value in the ro, and it was true. Without the ro, he had nothing to protect, which meant he had no purpose. But, unlike the Adana’Ro, he was not committed to protecting all the ro. He had only to protect his friends. Celise was not his friend.
He started to walk away when the man grunted in pain. Next, he heard a slap, and then Celise’s pained cry, followed by a sob. Rezkin mentally groaned. Celise could not protect herself against the trained soldier who was twice her weight. Frisha would be angry with him if he did not help. If he wanted to honor Frisha, he had to help Celise.
Rezkin drew the soldier’s sword at his hip, rounded the corner, and thrust the blade through the man’s side. Morlin froze with his hands around Celise’s neck. He looked down in shocked confusion and then turned his gaze on Rezkin. If Morlin had been breathing, he might have drawn in a few before he finally recognized the face behind the stolen uniform. Rezkin withdrew the sword slowly. Blood spilled from the wound as the man slumped to the ground with one final, wheezing breath. The mage stone winked out, leaving the cupboard in shadowed darkness. Rezkin picked up the stone and focused so that it glowed again.
Celise choked and coughed as she struggled for air. Her lashes batted frantically over her wide, frightened eyes. As she pulled in steadier breaths, she stared at the pooling blood and the dead man’s stare. She had not yet looked his way, and Rezkin knew he could disappear before she recognized him. Still, he waited, uncertain as to why.
Blinking away tears, she stared only so far as his uniform at first.
“You killed him,” she gasped.
He responded to her Leréshi. “Yes, he was trying to kill you.”
She shook her head. “No, he would not have killed me.” She finally looked up to his face and then rocked back in surprise.
Rezkin said, “I cannot be seen in this uniform. You will wait a mark and then report the incident.”
She shook her head emphatically. “No! They will think I killed him. His matrianera will blame me!”
“You will tell them the truth. Tell them that I killed him. When they question me, I will confirm it.”
“You would do that for me?”
Rezkin frowned. “It is the truth. Just do not mention the uniform,” he said, patting his chest.
She seemed momentarily relieved but then began crying. “No, it will not matter. Matrianera Depheli will find a way to blame it on me. She will say that it was a scheme, that I encouraged and then betrayed him or some such. Can we not hide him? We can pretend this did not happen.”
Rezkin raised a brow. “I could dispose of the body, but the truthseekers will eventually figure out that you had something to do with it. By then, I will be gone, and there will be no one to corroborate your story.”
The young woman sobbed, “Oh, what am I to do? You should not have killed him!”
“You need not concern yourself. I will serve as your champion should someone challenge you over this.”