Read Online The Prince of Exiles (The Exile Series) by Hal Emerson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Hal Emerson
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feel I would be speaking too quickly.”
Leah laughed at his joke, and he felt himself beaming. He’d actually intended that to be funny, and her smile made his efforts at socializing worthwhile.
“He’s our Imperial Liaison,” Davydd said with a smirk.
“A diplomat?” Raven asked, incredulous. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. In fact I’m pretty sure such a person would be executed on the spot if he ever approached a member of the Empire.”
“He’s the head of the spy network,” Leah clarified.
“Spy network?” He asked dubiously.
“Yes,” she said, “he’s the head of the Rogues, among other things.”
“Oh,” Raven said, understanding a bit more now. Such a man would indeed have to be cunning – the Kindred Rogues were very good saboteurs, and despite the Empire’s best efforts many still remained at large. Though of course such a grouping could hardly be called a “network,” at least not the way the Seekers, the Imperial Eyes and Ears, could be called such. They were more a loose group of independent agents. Still, if Leah and Tomaz were any type of example, the Elder who organized them was certainly effective at his job.
“We’re here,” said Davydd impatiently, and Raven realized the young man was right. They’d arrived outside the large, central tent of the camp; it was a good twenty feet tall, held up by thick wooden stakes and located on a small bluff with a full view of the distant gates of Roarke – or what used to be the gates of Roarke. All that remained now was a tangled mess of twisted metal and tortured stone. The tent looked to be made of very thick fabric, some kind of wool or canvas or something else with which Raven wasn’t familiar. Not that he was an expert on fabrics – Imperial Princes were taught economic theories and differential spheres of governance, not how to distinguish textiles.
Davydd was standing impatiently at the tent flap, waiting for them to join him. Raven’s shoulder was starting to really hurt – a deep kind of pain that told him he was pushing himself too hard by being here.
Keep moving. Every time you stop and drop your guard you get attacked.
“Are we all ready?” Tomaz rumbled, eyeing him critically.
“It’s a report, not an inquisition,” said Davydd, exasperated. “If he says he’s fine, then he’s fine, let’s go .”
“All right, all right,” Tomaz said, looking put upon and a little flustered, which was strange for Raven to see. Usually he maintained his composure to a fault. He must be worried about something – the report?
They entered the tent, nodding to the pairs of guards on either side who clearly knew Tomaz, Leah, and Davydd, and let them through without protest. Raven’s shoulder and side continued to throb as he bent his head to duck under the flap, and his mood turned suddenly ugly against his will. It was then that he realized Tomaz wasn’t concerned so much about what the Elders would do, but about what he would do if he were to be provoked. He felt a momentary flash of annoyance at this, and then realized the giant was probably right to worry – he didn’t exactly have the best record when it came to keeping his temper in difficult situations.
They entered a small, outer chamber that served as a kind of makeshift foyer leading from outside the tent to the actual interior. It was a convenient place to keep people who were waiting for an audience, but it didn’t seem to have been built for large groups: with three of them plus Tomaz, it was uncomfortably close. An attendant who was waiting there nodded to them and went through the inner flap, motioning for them to stay where they were.
They waited quietly, and as they did, they heard a voice speaking inside; it was loud and gruff, full of self-righteousness, and pleased to find itself raised in use.
“I still don’t approve of sending a squad of valuable Eshendai and Ashandel
Leah laughed at his joke, and he felt himself beaming. He’d actually intended that to be funny, and her smile made his efforts at socializing worthwhile.
“He’s our Imperial Liaison,” Davydd said with a smirk.
“A diplomat?” Raven asked, incredulous. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. In fact I’m pretty sure such a person would be executed on the spot if he ever approached a member of the Empire.”
“He’s the head of the spy network,” Leah clarified.
“Spy network?” He asked dubiously.
“Yes,” she said, “he’s the head of the Rogues, among other things.”
“Oh,” Raven said, understanding a bit more now. Such a man would indeed have to be cunning – the Kindred Rogues were very good saboteurs, and despite the Empire’s best efforts many still remained at large. Though of course such a grouping could hardly be called a “network,” at least not the way the Seekers, the Imperial Eyes and Ears, could be called such. They were more a loose group of independent agents. Still, if Leah and Tomaz were any type of example, the Elder who organized them was certainly effective at his job.
“We’re here,” said Davydd impatiently, and Raven realized the young man was right. They’d arrived outside the large, central tent of the camp; it was a good twenty feet tall, held up by thick wooden stakes and located on a small bluff with a full view of the distant gates of Roarke – or what used to be the gates of Roarke. All that remained now was a tangled mess of twisted metal and tortured stone. The tent looked to be made of very thick fabric, some kind of wool or canvas or something else with which Raven wasn’t familiar. Not that he was an expert on fabrics – Imperial Princes were taught economic theories and differential spheres of governance, not how to distinguish textiles.
Davydd was standing impatiently at the tent flap, waiting for them to join him. Raven’s shoulder was starting to really hurt – a deep kind of pain that told him he was pushing himself too hard by being here.
Keep moving. Every time you stop and drop your guard you get attacked.
“Are we all ready?” Tomaz rumbled, eyeing him critically.
“It’s a report, not an inquisition,” said Davydd, exasperated. “If he says he’s fine, then he’s fine, let’s go .”
“All right, all right,” Tomaz said, looking put upon and a little flustered, which was strange for Raven to see. Usually he maintained his composure to a fault. He must be worried about something – the report?
They entered the tent, nodding to the pairs of guards on either side who clearly knew Tomaz, Leah, and Davydd, and let them through without protest. Raven’s shoulder and side continued to throb as he bent his head to duck under the flap, and his mood turned suddenly ugly against his will. It was then that he realized Tomaz wasn’t concerned so much about what the Elders would do, but about what he would do if he were to be provoked. He felt a momentary flash of annoyance at this, and then realized the giant was probably right to worry – he didn’t exactly have the best record when it came to keeping his temper in difficult situations.
They entered a small, outer chamber that served as a kind of makeshift foyer leading from outside the tent to the actual interior. It was a convenient place to keep people who were waiting for an audience, but it didn’t seem to have been built for large groups: with three of them plus Tomaz, it was uncomfortably close. An attendant who was waiting there nodded to them and went through the inner flap, motioning for them to stay where they were.
They waited quietly, and as they did, they heard a voice speaking inside; it was loud and gruff, full of self-righteousness, and pleased to find itself raised in use.
“I still don’t approve of sending a squad of valuable Eshendai and Ashandel
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