The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 4)(25)

“What is that?” Zoelyn whispered to Dominic who was standing rigid beside her.

“A monument for the High Lady Jala Merrodin. She died in the battle. The names of all who died here on her behalf are carved on the pillar beneath her,” Dominic explained quickly, his eyes still locked on the three men as if he expected violence to erupt at any moment.

“Get your hand off your sword, Val,” Lord Delvayon muttered sourly and started to loosen his grip on the prisoner.

The Rivasan laughed hoarsely and spat blood onto the ground by the Lord’s boots and grinned at them all through split lips. “See that, Delvay, you aren’t allowed to touch me and I get to watch it all fall apart. The bitch hasn’t even been dead a full day and already you are at each other’s throats. Your pathetic alliance won’t last two weeks.”

Without any warning the Lord’s hand tightened once more on the prisoner’s throat and his fist slammed into the man’s face until the prisoner was limp in his grasp.

The dark haired man started to move forward to stop him, but the one the lord had called Val stepped to block his way. Zoelyn looked quickly between the three and then to the guards who stood back with looks of near panic on their faces. A wail of pain rose from the prisoner as the large Delvay pried his battered jaws open and shoved his hand into the man’s mouth. There was a gargling noise and then the lord pulled his hand back swiftly. At first Zoelyn thought the prisoner had managed to bite the Delvay, until she saw the lump of pink flesh the lord was grasping in his hand. Blood streamed down from the prisoner’s mouth as weak gargling rose from his throat. The Delvay had ripped the man’s tongue completely out of his mouth. Bile rose in her throat and she turned away quickly as Dominic moved forward.

“Lord Delvayon, I have more than enough work to do without you creating more. Release that man at once,” Dominic commanded in a voice that actually sounded as if he had authority.

Blinking stupidly, Zoelyn gaped at her Guardian in utter shock. The Delvay lord had just ripped a man’s tongue fully out of his mouth and Dominic was actually being stupid enough to get in the middle of it.

The Delvay lord regarded him stonily for a few moments, then tossed the tongue to the ground and grabbed the prisoner once more, one large hand on each side of the man’s head. With a quick jerk, he snapped the man’s neck and released the body to fall limply to the ground. “No extra work now,” the Delvay announced coldly.

“That was murder!” Dominic bellowed, taking another step closer, his hand raised in accusation.

“That was justified!” Lord Delvayon shot back with equal venom. “Who in the bloody hell are you, anyway?” he demanded.

“He is my personal healer,” a softer voice answered and Zoelyn felt relief wash through her body as she recognized the sound of Troyelle Hai’dia’s voice. She hadn’t seen the General of Arovan often, but every time she had been in his presence he had been calm and rational. The current situation could certainly use someone calm and rational. “Valor, get your hand off of your sword. Lord Faydwer, I have this matter from here. I thank you for your attempts at stemming the violence.” Looking around at the growing crowd, Troyelle motioned to his guards that were stationed around the prisoners. “Clear the area and see that everyone returns to their rest,” he ordered softly, his gaze returning once more to the Delvay lord and the dead prisoner. “I will grant you, Neph, that man was an annoying bastard, but don’t you think that was a bit excessive?”

“I think the bastard should have shut his mouth the first time he was told to,” Neph countered.

Troyelle frowned and looked from Neph back to Valor. “I told you to get your hand off of your sword,” he sighed.

“Tell me you are letting Neph return to his rest without further harassment and I’ll be more than happy to, father,” Valor replied in a voice that was shaky at best.

“Val, I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” Neph snapped.

“Excuse me.” A gentle nudge at her back spun Zoelyn around quickly to face the newest speaker. She wasn’t used to being caught off guard or being touched and the man had managed both. He smiled faintly at her and limped past to stand near Dominic. Zoelyn recognized him as one of the wounded that had been resting in the tent behind her, and from the looks of his bandaged side and limp he hadn’t been magically healed yet. She knew she should try to urge him back to his pallet, but she truly didn’t want to go anywhere near the drama unfolding in front of her.