Read Online The Wizard King by Julie Dean Smith - Free Book Online Page B

lowering himself to one knee on the graveled walk. “I thank you for allowing me to share your knowledge of who has Your favor and who does not.”
    He struggled back to his feet, still intoxicated by the grace he had been granted. “Athaya will suffer for this… for keeping this power all to herself. When the Caithan people find out—”
    “She thought it was wrong to use it,” Drianna explained from behind him, though why she felt obliged to do so vexed her. “She couldn’t possibly test everyone in the kingdom, so leaving things alone seemed the fairest thing to do. Especially in Caithe, where telling someone they’re a wizard is the same as passing a death sentence on them.”
    “Then more the fool she.” But rather than enter into another debate over Athaya Trelane’s views on the ethics of magic, Brand motioned Drianna to follow him back to the tower. “Come, Tullis will have brought Ranulf to my chamber by now. After I have dealt with him, we will see what waits in your future.”
    “Brand, are you sure it’s a good idea to see him?” she asked as they reached the foot of the great stair. Her mouth went dry as she spoke; Brand hated it when she questioned him—especially when it had anything do with magic—but if Brand still bore some lingering trace of his ordeal, then Ranulf would be quick to take advantage of it. He was one of Athaya’s staunchest allies and knew the threat the Sage posed to her work. “You should be resting, not overexerting yourself so soon after—”
    “Bah! I am strong enough for anything.” He raised tight fists over his head, flexing the muscles on his bare arms and back. “By God, Drianna, I could Challenge one of God’s own angels and win right now!”
    Drianna’s hand flew to her mouth, expecting lightning to strike him dead that instant.
“Brand!”
    But his blasphemy was forgotten as they returned to the Sage’s bedchamber, where Tullis and two guardsmen kept silent watch over Ranulf Osgood. The prisoner was thinner and paler now—and somewhat damp, Drianna realized—but still a powerful man for his forty-odd years. Drianna suspected he could have wrestled almost anyone in the palace to the ground, with possible exception of Brand himself. Ranulf had been kept in reasonably honorable confinement—he was the enemy, but as a wizard, he deserved a certain amount of deference—and had suffered from little more than boredom these past few months.
    “Please pardon his appearance, your Grace,” Tullis said, turning a critical eye to Sage’s captive. “He has not elected to bathe for months and… well, I had to insist that he do so before seeing you.”
    Brand laughed merrily at the sight of Ranulf’s sopping red hair sticking out in all directions; he looked like a wet cat and surely bore the same temperament. “Ah, Ranulf. It is good to see you again.”
    The mercenary made a hawking sound in the back of his throat. “Sorry I can’t say the same.”
    Drianna could see the hatred in the man’s eyes, burning them hollow from within. But Ranulf was not a stupid man, and she saw caution simmering there as well. Ranulf was born and bred on Sare, trained as a soldier in the same mercenary company as Brand, but while Brand had remained on the island, Ranulf had sold his services to the civil war in Caithe. When his magic came upon him soon thereafter, he had ended up in Reyka instead of Sare, and was therefore never properly educated to revere the Sage or his island cult. But he knew of it and knew enough to tread carefully within its leader’s abode.
    “Him I can understand,” Ranulf said to Drianna, flatly ignoring the Sage’s presence for the moment. “He always had a cesspool for a soul, even back in the corps. But you! Athaya was kind to you, even though you drove her to distraction with all of yer babbling and fawning. And this is how you repaid her.”
    Drianna felt her cheeks tingle with heat. Although she had omitted the fact from her report to