Read Online Angst (Book 4) by Robert P. Hansen - Free Book Online Page A

it was the warrior who mattered, and the other men held
back while he rode toward Taro and reined in his horse. “Well met, Old Man,”
the warrior said as he reached up to remove his helmet. A bright glare
reflected from his sweat-stained forehead that made it difficult for Taro to
see him clearly, but it didn’t matter. He knew he would recognize him if he saw
him again— when he saw him again.
    “Well met, Hobart,” he heard himself saying.

 
    10
    After putting Iscara’s chair back in its proper place, King
Tyr finished his meal and sat in thought for a long time. There was only one
question that puzzled him: Why had Sardach helped Angus? Iscara was right:
Sardach should have killed Angus and taken the key. It was not like Sardach to
defy Argyle’s commands. He was still mulling the puzzle over when Phillip
returned.
    “Sire,” Phillip said as he came to a stop. “The cleaning
wenches have nearly finished with Grayle’s room. Is there anything you need me
to do before I clean the tunnel you showed me?”
    King Tyr glanced at Phillip and nodded. “Before you clean
the tunnel, I want you to go down the stair and see what is in the large
chamber at the other end. Do not go beyond that chamber for any reason. Be
surreptitious. It would be best if you were not seen while you are down there.”
    “Yes, Sire,” he said. “Is there anything in particular that
I should be looking for?”
    “Grayle, of course,” King Tyr said.
    Phillip hesitated, bowed, and said, “Yes, Sire. Is there
anything else?”
    “If you find her alive, return to me at once.” King Tyr
hesitated, grit his teeth, and added, “You do not need to bathe first.”
    Phillip blinked and his eyes widened. Then, after the king
dismissed him with a wave, he bowed and hurriedly left.
    “Is she alive?” King Tyr whispered. “Or did Angus kill her?
If he has….”
    What could he do to Angus that wouldn’t create suspicion? It
was a delicate balance of duties, one that often left the king in a precarious
position. How could he maintain the separateness of his two lives? The King of
Tyr and the de facto head of the underworld in Tyr. At least he didn’t have to
host Argyle himself, like so many of his forebears had done. But how could he?
His responsibilities as king were too demanding for lengthy excursions into the
dungeons below the castle, and Argyle’s network had grown so much that it
needed far more attention than he could give it. He frowned. At least, it had grown; the past few years had weakened Argyle’s inner circle greatly, and now….
    Angus. He had already ordered his movements to be restricted
when he checked in— if he checked in. He could have been killed during
his confrontation with Argyle. He shook his head. No. Something told him that
Angus had survived that encounter. Voltari’s training, perhaps? It didn’t
matter. He was a Banner man, and that made him subject to the king’s will. But
he couldn’t call up a Banner without having a good reason for doing so. It was
part of the charter agreements. If it was a mission that could be performed by
the regular army, the Banners were exempt from it, except in times of war. Were
they at war? The fishmen…
    Angus again. He was woven through the puzzles confronting
the king, and that made him important—and dangerous. He could rely upon his
privilege as the king to bring the Banner before him. A feast in their honor? A
medal? No, there wasn’t sufficient cause for it, and they would know it. But if
he brought them to Tyrag in order to send them on a special mission…
    Voltari. He scowled. The old wizard had been a cyst in the
kingdom’s backside for as long as anyone could remember. He had been idle for
so long that most thought he was dead. Foolish optimism, that. And there was
Angus again. He had to be a wizard of great skill to be Voltari’s
apprentice—Voltari would have seen to that—and he would see through any flimsy
excuse the King gave for bringing him to