Read Online The Quest (The Hidden Realm Book 5) by A. Giannetti - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A. Giannetti
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grim figure slipped stealthily through the city, drawing closer and closer to Orianus’s palace.
When he reached a side entrance in the wall that surrounded Orianus’s residence, Merula knocked and said quietly, “Let me in. I am on the king’s business.” Recognizing Merula’s voice, the two guards on the other side of the entryway opened the heavy, wooden door at once, despite the lateness of the hour. Hardly had Merula crossed the threshold, however, than he turned to his left and struck down the door wardens with two quick, powerful thrusts of his dagger, each blow slipping easily through thick leather armor to find a beating heart. Without the slightest qualm of conscience, Merula stooped and held a strong hand over each dying man’s mouth to stifle any last sound that they might make.
“I need feel no regret for these deaths,” he assured himself as the men ceased to struggle and went limp. “They spend their lives worthily to advance my designs, no different from the soldiers who fall in combat executing my commands, so that the battle may be won.”
After quickly hiding the bodies in the small booth provided to shelter the door guards in inclement weather, Merula walked across the palace grounds and entered the king’s residence through another side door to which he had the key, for he and Orianus had met before at odd hours when some emergency threatened the kingdom. Walking softly through deserted hallways, he arrived, unchallenged, at the door to Anthea’s quarters. At his soft knock, Alypia eagerly opened it.
“She is asleep just as you promised,” she said with a glad smile on her lips when she saw Merula’s handsome face. Hardly had she spoken the words than he covered her mouth with his strong left hand while plunging his already bloody dagger through her heart with his right. Ignoring the stunned, pleading look in the woman’s wide-open gray eyes, Merula held his hand over Alypia’s mouth and chin with a grip of iron until he felt the life leave her body. Releasing her, he let her body slide free of his dagger and fall to the floor. Closing the door behind him, he then stepped impatiently over her still form, a preoccupied look in his fevered eyes. Striding into the next room, he found Anthea lying unmoving on her bed, fast asleep. Merula paused for a moment at her bedside, the bloody dagger clenched in his right hand dripping drops of red blood onto the polished stone floor of the bedroom. At the sight of her fair face regret briefly twisted his handsome features, but he thrust the emotion ruthlessly aside.
“The blame for my actions lies with her,” he thought bitterly to himself, “for she has brought me to this state. Had she acknowledged my worth, as she ought to have done, I would never have taken this path.” With this last thought, a mad light gleamed once more in Merula’s blue eyes. After wiping his bloody dagger on the bed sheets, he thrust it into its sheath. His right hand then reached for the chain around his neck, but fell away again at the last moment.”
“It would be reckless on my part to allow an uncertain ally like Torquatus entry into the palace,” he thought to himself. “Despite the risk, I would be wise to carry her to some safer place before summoning the Goblin.”
After quickly wrapping Anthea's unresisting form in the blanket that covered her, Merula threw her over his left shoulder. Effortlessly, he carried Anthea’s slim form across the polished marble floor of the chamber, and after opening the outer door of the apartment, spirited her out of the palace through the same side entrance through which he had entered it. When Merula emerged out into the open after locking the door behind him, stars gleamed in the black sky overhead, and a warm breeze blew over the tall stone wall that circled the palace, carrying with it the scent of roses from the gardens. Intent only on his task, Merula ignored everything else as he made his way to the door through
When he reached a side entrance in the wall that surrounded Orianus’s residence, Merula knocked and said quietly, “Let me in. I am on the king’s business.” Recognizing Merula’s voice, the two guards on the other side of the entryway opened the heavy, wooden door at once, despite the lateness of the hour. Hardly had Merula crossed the threshold, however, than he turned to his left and struck down the door wardens with two quick, powerful thrusts of his dagger, each blow slipping easily through thick leather armor to find a beating heart. Without the slightest qualm of conscience, Merula stooped and held a strong hand over each dying man’s mouth to stifle any last sound that they might make.
“I need feel no regret for these deaths,” he assured himself as the men ceased to struggle and went limp. “They spend their lives worthily to advance my designs, no different from the soldiers who fall in combat executing my commands, so that the battle may be won.”
After quickly hiding the bodies in the small booth provided to shelter the door guards in inclement weather, Merula walked across the palace grounds and entered the king’s residence through another side door to which he had the key, for he and Orianus had met before at odd hours when some emergency threatened the kingdom. Walking softly through deserted hallways, he arrived, unchallenged, at the door to Anthea’s quarters. At his soft knock, Alypia eagerly opened it.
“She is asleep just as you promised,” she said with a glad smile on her lips when she saw Merula’s handsome face. Hardly had she spoken the words than he covered her mouth with his strong left hand while plunging his already bloody dagger through her heart with his right. Ignoring the stunned, pleading look in the woman’s wide-open gray eyes, Merula held his hand over Alypia’s mouth and chin with a grip of iron until he felt the life leave her body. Releasing her, he let her body slide free of his dagger and fall to the floor. Closing the door behind him, he then stepped impatiently over her still form, a preoccupied look in his fevered eyes. Striding into the next room, he found Anthea lying unmoving on her bed, fast asleep. Merula paused for a moment at her bedside, the bloody dagger clenched in his right hand dripping drops of red blood onto the polished stone floor of the bedroom. At the sight of her fair face regret briefly twisted his handsome features, but he thrust the emotion ruthlessly aside.
“The blame for my actions lies with her,” he thought bitterly to himself, “for she has brought me to this state. Had she acknowledged my worth, as she ought to have done, I would never have taken this path.” With this last thought, a mad light gleamed once more in Merula’s blue eyes. After wiping his bloody dagger on the bed sheets, he thrust it into its sheath. His right hand then reached for the chain around his neck, but fell away again at the last moment.”
“It would be reckless on my part to allow an uncertain ally like Torquatus entry into the palace,” he thought to himself. “Despite the risk, I would be wise to carry her to some safer place before summoning the Goblin.”
After quickly wrapping Anthea's unresisting form in the blanket that covered her, Merula threw her over his left shoulder. Effortlessly, he carried Anthea’s slim form across the polished marble floor of the chamber, and after opening the outer door of the apartment, spirited her out of the palace through the same side entrance through which he had entered it. When Merula emerged out into the open after locking the door behind him, stars gleamed in the black sky overhead, and a warm breeze blew over the tall stone wall that circled the palace, carrying with it the scent of roses from the gardens. Intent only on his task, Merula ignored everything else as he made his way to the door through
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