The Sorcery Code

Chapter 6: Barson




Barson watched Augusta as she walked away, her hips swaying with the seductive grace that was as much a part of her as her golden brown eyes. She was a beautiful woman, and he was glad she’d chosen him to be her lover. She still pined for that exiled sorcerer, he knew, but not when she was in Barson’s bed. He’d made certain of that.

“That was not particularly smooth, I have to say,” a voice drawled next to him, interrupting his musings.

Turning his head, Barson saw his right-hand man and soon-to-be brother-in-law. “Shut up, Larn,” he said without much heat. “Kiam will be fine, and he’ll know better than to jump under my sword the next time.”

Larn shook his head. “I don’t know, Barson. That kid is a hothead; I’ve warned you about him before—”

“Yeah, yeah, look who’s talking. You think I don’t remember all the trouble you got into when you were his age?”

Larn snorted. “Oh please, you’re a fine one to talk. How many times did Dara have to plead your case? If it weren’t for your sister, you’d still be grounded to this day.”

Barson grinned at his friend, remembering all the mishaps they’d gotten into as children.

“He reminds me of you quite a bit actually,” Larn said, glancing in the direction of Kiam, who had picked up his sword again, apparently getting ready to practice on his own time. Then, lowering his voice, he said in a more serious tone, “Can she hear us?”

“I don’t think so,” Barson said, though he wasn’t entirely sure. One could never be certain with sorcerers; they were sneaky and had spells that could enhance their eavesdropping abilities. However, Augusta would have no reason to do such a spell right now—not when she was getting ready for bed in his tent. “In any case, it’s far safer to talk here than anywhere in the vicinity of the Tower.”

“That’s probably true,” Larn agreed, still keeping his voice low. “Why did she come along, anyway?”

Barson shrugged.

“Oh, the legendary Barson strikes again.” Larn wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously.

Barson’s hand shot out with the speed of a striking cobra, grabbing Larn’s throat. “You will show her respect,” he ordered, filled with sudden anger.

“Of course, I’m sorry . . .” Larn sounded choked. “I didn’t realize—”

“Well, now you do,” Barson muttered, releasing his friend. “And you better hope she didn’t hear any of this.”

Larn paled. “You said she couldn’t—”

“And she probably can’t,” Barson agreed. “The fact that you’re still alive is evidence of that.” Like all members of the Council, Augusta could be quite dangerous if provoked.

Larn stepped back, rubbing his throat. “Your sorceress aside,” he said in a low, raspy voice, “we have some business to discuss.”

Barson nodded, feeling a small measure of guilt at his lack of control. “Tell me,” he said curtly. Larn was his best friend and his most trusted soldier; soon, he would be family as well. Barson shouldn’t have reacted so strongly to his good-natured ribbing. What did it matter what anyone thought of his relationship with Augusta? He must be feeling particularly violent after the practice fight, he decided, not wanting to analyze his actions too much.

“I made a list of the most likely candidates.” Larn pulled out a small scroll and handed it to Barson. “Before, I could’ve sworn that none of these men could do this, but now I’m not so sure.”

Barson unrolled the scroll and studied the eleven names written on there, his anger growing again. Lifting his head, he pinned Larn with an icy stare. “They all fit the behavior pattern?”

“Yes. All of them. Of course, there could always be some other reason for their actions—a mistress or some such thing.”

“Yes,” Barson agreed. “For ten of them, it’s probably something like that.” His hands clenched into fists, and he forced himself to relax. Every one of the eleven men on that list was like a brother to him, and the thought that one of them could’ve betrayed him was like poison in Barson’s veins.

Taking a deep breath, he glanced at the list again, mentally running through each of the names. One name in particular jumped out at him. “Siur is on there,” he said slowly.

“Yes,” Larn said. “I noticed that, too. He didn’t come with us this time. Did he tell you why?”


“No. He said he needed to stay in Turingrad. It’s Siur, not some rookie, so I didn’t press him for explanations.”

Larn nodded thoughtfully. “All right. I’ll continue working on this list and keeping an eye on the ones already there.”

“Good,” Barson said, turning away to hide the fury on his face.

No matter what it took, he would get to the bottom of this matter—and when he did, the man who betrayed him would pay.