Read Online Sword of Jashan (Book 2) by Anne Marie Lutz - Free Book Online
Authors: Anne Marie Lutz
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am so sorry, Lord Callo,” Ander said. “It sounds as if it was a brutal thing.”
“He is a brutal man,” Chiss said. There was a thickness in his voice Callo had not heard before. “He does not deserve my oath.”
Callo took a deep breath and tried to focus. “He deserves to be destroyed. I was a fool to let my loyalty rule my decision not to slay him in the tower. If his own color magery burns him alive, it will not be too much.”
Ander fidgeted in his chair. “Lord Callo,” he said, “you must not let your grief blind you. He is still our King. This talk is treason.”
“I spared him in the tower though he Collared my brother and tried to slay Kirian and me. I thought, he is my uncle and my King. I thought, I will leave and go my way, stay out of his way and come to defend you from him here in Northgard—you, the rightful heir.
“Think of this,” Callo said. “The King wants me to succeed him—he offered the throne to me at Seagard Castle. I am the tool he wants to work some plan of his. Now that Arias is dead, Ander, only you come between me and the throne. There has already been one attempt on your life.”
“The boy is in great danger from the King,” Chiss said.
Balan snorted. “Lord Callo, you know as well as I that you would never be accepted as King. Not a man of illegitimate birth such as yourself. Forgive my plain speaking, but this is delusional. Did Sharpeyes really say that?”
“There are things you do not know,” Kirian said. “My lord said he would not take the throne, however. That’s what matters to us now.”
“If Ander were dead, he would take it quickly enough,” said Balan cynically, looking at Callo. “It may be putting the fox in charge of the chicken to ask Lord Callo to defend young Ander.”
Callo gritted, “I said I did not want it, and I meant it.” He tried to pace, found his intent frustrated by the crowded area, and ran his hands through his hair. He had to get out of this little space soon.
“You may trust my lord’s word, Hon Balan,” Chiss said.
“And yours, how do I trust yours? I know none of you well. Perhaps I have done a great wrong, vouching for you so you are allowed into our very heart like this.” The warrior braced his feet as if to deliver a blow, and said to Callo: “You left him there to be slain. I do not call this the act of a loyal brother.”
Callo could not reply. Kirian said, “He tried to convince him, Hon Balan. Lord Arias was sure he could turn aside the King’s anger. He would not come with us.”
The warrior sighed and seemed to deflate. “It sounds like Lord Arias,” he said. “Always sure he could win his way with charm alone. Jashan’s heart, I will miss him.”
Callo thrust aside his own grief and said, “I will guard you with my life, Lord Ander, until your position is safe. I will stay here rather than riding to Sugetre to put my sword through Sharpeyes’ heart. But when it is time, even if months have passed, I now swear on Jashan himself that I will avenge my brother Arias.”
“No!” Ander said.
“Chiss, if you cannot live with yourself without thwarting me, go your ways.”
“I will go where you go, my lord,” Chiss said. “I always have.”
And turn your hand against me when it counts? Callo thought but did not say aloud. He began to be overwhelmed by the closeness of all the people, and made his excuses. Then he stalked out of the manor house and headed for the ring.
He tried to gain Jashan’s self-discipline in the ring. For candlemarks he moved in the studied speed of the god’s ritual forms. He moved until his arms were aching, his legs weak, and still he could not sense the usual purifying rigor of the ritual. Jashan had turned his face away. He worked until he was exhausted, then went back to the fortress.
The prolonged workout made him so weary that twice he found himself thinking of things other than Arias. Then the grief would come, strengthened by guilt at his fickle mind.
“He is a brutal man,” Chiss said. There was a thickness in his voice Callo had not heard before. “He does not deserve my oath.”
Callo took a deep breath and tried to focus. “He deserves to be destroyed. I was a fool to let my loyalty rule my decision not to slay him in the tower. If his own color magery burns him alive, it will not be too much.”
Ander fidgeted in his chair. “Lord Callo,” he said, “you must not let your grief blind you. He is still our King. This talk is treason.”
“I spared him in the tower though he Collared my brother and tried to slay Kirian and me. I thought, he is my uncle and my King. I thought, I will leave and go my way, stay out of his way and come to defend you from him here in Northgard—you, the rightful heir.
“Think of this,” Callo said. “The King wants me to succeed him—he offered the throne to me at Seagard Castle. I am the tool he wants to work some plan of his. Now that Arias is dead, Ander, only you come between me and the throne. There has already been one attempt on your life.”
“The boy is in great danger from the King,” Chiss said.
Balan snorted. “Lord Callo, you know as well as I that you would never be accepted as King. Not a man of illegitimate birth such as yourself. Forgive my plain speaking, but this is delusional. Did Sharpeyes really say that?”
“There are things you do not know,” Kirian said. “My lord said he would not take the throne, however. That’s what matters to us now.”
“If Ander were dead, he would take it quickly enough,” said Balan cynically, looking at Callo. “It may be putting the fox in charge of the chicken to ask Lord Callo to defend young Ander.”
Callo gritted, “I said I did not want it, and I meant it.” He tried to pace, found his intent frustrated by the crowded area, and ran his hands through his hair. He had to get out of this little space soon.
“You may trust my lord’s word, Hon Balan,” Chiss said.
“And yours, how do I trust yours? I know none of you well. Perhaps I have done a great wrong, vouching for you so you are allowed into our very heart like this.” The warrior braced his feet as if to deliver a blow, and said to Callo: “You left him there to be slain. I do not call this the act of a loyal brother.”
Callo could not reply. Kirian said, “He tried to convince him, Hon Balan. Lord Arias was sure he could turn aside the King’s anger. He would not come with us.”
The warrior sighed and seemed to deflate. “It sounds like Lord Arias,” he said. “Always sure he could win his way with charm alone. Jashan’s heart, I will miss him.”
Callo thrust aside his own grief and said, “I will guard you with my life, Lord Ander, until your position is safe. I will stay here rather than riding to Sugetre to put my sword through Sharpeyes’ heart. But when it is time, even if months have passed, I now swear on Jashan himself that I will avenge my brother Arias.”
“No!” Ander said.
“Chiss, if you cannot live with yourself without thwarting me, go your ways.”
“I will go where you go, my lord,” Chiss said. “I always have.”
And turn your hand against me when it counts? Callo thought but did not say aloud. He began to be overwhelmed by the closeness of all the people, and made his excuses. Then he stalked out of the manor house and headed for the ring.
He tried to gain Jashan’s self-discipline in the ring. For candlemarks he moved in the studied speed of the god’s ritual forms. He moved until his arms were aching, his legs weak, and still he could not sense the usual purifying rigor of the ritual. Jashan had turned his face away. He worked until he was exhausted, then went back to the fortress.
The prolonged workout made him so weary that twice he found himself thinking of things other than Arias. Then the grief would come, strengthened by guilt at his fickle mind.
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