Read Online Born of Fire (The Cloud Warrior Saga Book 8) by D.K. Holmberg - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: D.K. Holmberg
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alongside his?”
Roine smiled, and deep wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes, showing his age. They had been through so much over the last year, and it had aged him prematurely. “Mine should never hang next to Althem’s. I am nothing more than a placeholder.”
“Are you so sure? I think most would argue that you’ve handled the transition from warrior to ruler well. There would not be any argument were you to remain king.”
“Regent, Tan. King Regent. And I will not be party to a silent coup.”
“Why must it be silent?” When Roine started to protest, Tan pushed on. “There is no one else fit to rule. You were Athan at the time of Althem’s death. The line of succession would be satisfied.”
Roine considered Tan for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Either you have been speaking with your mother, or you have come to the same conclusion. I’m not sure which worries me more,” he said with a laugh.
“I’m not trying to worry you. I only want what’s best for the kingdoms.”
“Only the kingdoms now?” Roine asked. He cocked his head and stared at him. “Not Incendin, and Doma, and Chenir…”
“And Par-shon,” his mother said, coming up behind Roine. She fixed Tan with an expression she likely meant to be withering, and to many others it likely would have been, but Tan had grown up around her and knew her moods. “Ara tells me that you journeyed across the sea, bringing one of the draasin with you. I thought that we’d talked about that foolishness and the claim that you were Utu Tonah—”
“Foolish to you,” Tan said. “But the elementals speak to me, Mother, and have made it clear that Par-shon had not changed. That was why I returned.”
Roine motioned them into the hall and out of the corridor where servants moved past, trying and failing to give them a wide berth. Once in the hall, Roine shaped the doors closed and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You’re the Utu Tonah?” he asked.
Tan glanced at his mother and realized that she hadn’t said anything to Roine. “When we brought the body back to Par-shon…”
“They named you ruler?” Roine asked. “And you didn’t feel it appropriate to share this with me? Tan, you’re my Athan . You speak with the voice of the throne.”
Heat rose in his cheeks no differently than when his father had chastised him as a child when he’d forgotten to cover the firewood, or when he hadn’t paid enough attention while tracking. As he had then, he struggled to find the right words. There wasn’t anything that he could say. Certainly nothing that would make it better. He should have shared with Roine.
When Tan didn’t answer, Roine turned to Zephra. “And you. I would think that you would tell me about Tan. It’s bad enough that he keeps getting it in his head that he has to serve the elementals over the kingdoms, but at least you’ve usually backed me up when it came to him.”
Zephra took the chastising without saying a word. Some might think that meant she was appropriately chagrined, but Tan knew better. With his mother, silence often meant that she was biding her time, waiting for the right moment—usually when he was alone—to share her irritation. This time, he didn’t worry about what she would say to him. It was Roine who had to fear.
The King Regent turned back to Tan. “Why you didn’t let me know that we essentially rule in Par-shon—”
“You would have him rule?” Zephra asked.
“We’re the victors, Zephra. We get to decide what we do with Par-shon.”
“Are you certain that’s wise? We’ve got enough trouble in the kingdoms, especially with the unrest in the west.”
Roine cut her off with a shake of his head.
Zephra glanced over at Tan and nodded. “Regardless, we have enough going on trying to understand the new political dynamics. Incendin still claims that we should reunite Rens, Doma wants help with rebuilding following the Par-shon attack, and Chenir…”
“I
Roine smiled, and deep wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes, showing his age. They had been through so much over the last year, and it had aged him prematurely. “Mine should never hang next to Althem’s. I am nothing more than a placeholder.”
“Are you so sure? I think most would argue that you’ve handled the transition from warrior to ruler well. There would not be any argument were you to remain king.”
“Regent, Tan. King Regent. And I will not be party to a silent coup.”
“Why must it be silent?” When Roine started to protest, Tan pushed on. “There is no one else fit to rule. You were Athan at the time of Althem’s death. The line of succession would be satisfied.”
Roine considered Tan for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Either you have been speaking with your mother, or you have come to the same conclusion. I’m not sure which worries me more,” he said with a laugh.
“I’m not trying to worry you. I only want what’s best for the kingdoms.”
“Only the kingdoms now?” Roine asked. He cocked his head and stared at him. “Not Incendin, and Doma, and Chenir…”
“And Par-shon,” his mother said, coming up behind Roine. She fixed Tan with an expression she likely meant to be withering, and to many others it likely would have been, but Tan had grown up around her and knew her moods. “Ara tells me that you journeyed across the sea, bringing one of the draasin with you. I thought that we’d talked about that foolishness and the claim that you were Utu Tonah—”
“Foolish to you,” Tan said. “But the elementals speak to me, Mother, and have made it clear that Par-shon had not changed. That was why I returned.”
Roine motioned them into the hall and out of the corridor where servants moved past, trying and failing to give them a wide berth. Once in the hall, Roine shaped the doors closed and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You’re the Utu Tonah?” he asked.
Tan glanced at his mother and realized that she hadn’t said anything to Roine. “When we brought the body back to Par-shon…”
“They named you ruler?” Roine asked. “And you didn’t feel it appropriate to share this with me? Tan, you’re my Athan . You speak with the voice of the throne.”
Heat rose in his cheeks no differently than when his father had chastised him as a child when he’d forgotten to cover the firewood, or when he hadn’t paid enough attention while tracking. As he had then, he struggled to find the right words. There wasn’t anything that he could say. Certainly nothing that would make it better. He should have shared with Roine.
When Tan didn’t answer, Roine turned to Zephra. “And you. I would think that you would tell me about Tan. It’s bad enough that he keeps getting it in his head that he has to serve the elementals over the kingdoms, but at least you’ve usually backed me up when it came to him.”
Zephra took the chastising without saying a word. Some might think that meant she was appropriately chagrined, but Tan knew better. With his mother, silence often meant that she was biding her time, waiting for the right moment—usually when he was alone—to share her irritation. This time, he didn’t worry about what she would say to him. It was Roine who had to fear.
The King Regent turned back to Tan. “Why you didn’t let me know that we essentially rule in Par-shon—”
“You would have him rule?” Zephra asked.
“We’re the victors, Zephra. We get to decide what we do with Par-shon.”
“Are you certain that’s wise? We’ve got enough trouble in the kingdoms, especially with the unrest in the west.”
Roine cut her off with a shake of his head.
Zephra glanced over at Tan and nodded. “Regardless, we have enough going on trying to understand the new political dynamics. Incendin still claims that we should reunite Rens, Doma wants help with rebuilding following the Par-shon attack, and Chenir…”
“I
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