Read Online The Overlord's Heir by Michelle Howard - Free Book Online

man wore the black and gold colors of the Royal house of Desani.
The King’s men. By the look of their glares, they came prepared for battle,
armed with swords and shields.
    Vaan reached for
Primary, his symbiotic coccar beetle that produced the blue-green armor that
covered him from chest to waist. ‘Primary?’
    Vaan waited,
unsure if he would receive a response. The coccar had been silent for months
since Vaan woke from a drugged sleep with his men in a cavern on Raasa land. If
not for Mikayla, he would still be in that living grave.
    ‘I am come,
Overlord.’
    The whispered
words in his mind were familiar. Vaan turned to his left and realized by the
half smile on Eatan, Merik and Ramar’s face that their coccars spoke with them
as well.
    ‘It has been a
long time, friend.’
    A pause. ‘The
Blessed One had plans for the Overlord. Primary had no place to interfere. Ever
have I been with you.’
    Truth. While the
mental communication Vaan became accustomed to had been absent over the last
months, his armor had never failed to respond to his command. For this Vaan was
grateful. He reached for his sword hilt. With a laugh, Vaan unsheathed his weapon
and led the charge. Well versed in fighting from the back of a hapfe, Vaan used
his knees to guide. Hapani responded to his every signal.
    Swinging his sword
and kicking out with a booted foot, Vaan tempered the battle rage which sought
to consume him. He reveled in the blood racing in his veins caused by the fighting.
As he remembered, the Desani men fought with courage and a determination that
spoke of intense training. Still with his battle armor protecting him from the most
heavy of sword blows, Vaan suffered no injuries.
    Soon it was clear
that the twenty were no match for the forty at Vaan’s side. About to end one of
the Desani, Saran raised his sword on a loud roar.
    “Hold!”
    At the loud
authoritative order, Saran and every other fighter froze. Curious, Vaan sheathed
his weapon and eased back in the saddle.
    A single Desani soldier
separated himself and rode alone toward the first line of Vaan’s warriors.
Steel whistled loudly in the air as forty men angled their swords and barred
the way. The rider pulled his bi-pedal mount to a stop, eyes casually circling
the grounds until they paused on Saran then to Vaan. The Desani soldier
hesitated and then spoke clear and loud. “The rumors are true. Overlord Vaan
Galip lives.”
    Vaan tipped his
head to the side in acknowledgment and held the soldier’s gaze. The man shifted
his weight and dismounted. With the ankle length black tunic, trimmed in gold
and black leggings, the Desani should have appeared feminine. Instead, the
confident strolling gait spoke of a man comfortable in his own right. He kept
his weapon in the scabbard at his hip and walked right up to the warriors
unmindful of the deadly blades that could and would end his life if he took one
step further.
    “I would speak
with you, Overlord, on behalf of the King.”
    “Tarik is not my King.
I bow to none.” Dismounting, Vaan braced his legs apart and folded his arms
over his chest, unwilling to show his interest in what the man had to say. He
had once considered Tarik Sabarn a friend of sorts but was unsure how the
relationship would stand in light of Thenl killing the Queen, Maliya Sabarn.
All admired the King for making no secret of his love for his mixed-race wife
despite her inability to give him an heir.
    The soldier grimaced
as he ran a hand over his short blond hair. “I mean no dishonor, Overlord
Galip.” He straightened and bowed slightly, right arm pounding his chest. “I
would speak with you in private. The King’s words are not for all ears.”
    Vaan turned to
Saran and murmured, “I would defer to you on this brother if you seek to begin
as Kaban’s Warlord.”
    Saran already
shook his dark head. “I believe it is best you have words with the King’s man.
It is long overdue and perhaps all is not lost.”
    Vaan had to agree.
He