The Elder Blood Chronicles – Book Three(195)

“Your father was there for me when I needed him at the trial. Lord Arovan granted me the first of my army with his gift of your knights. I don’t leave friends to rot and I consider Arovan and Glis friends,” Jala said as she turned back to the city. “Come on and fold,” she whispered.





“I thought you said Margundrak would deal with them,” Cassia whined as she stared down at the summoned image of the army outside the gates.

“Shush, Cassy,” Donrey muttered, his eyes fixed on the tiny image of Jala Merrodin as she called her warning to the city. “Arrogant bitch,” he growled and let out a heavy breath. “Sovaesh, summon the reserves and tell them to prepare for battle.”

“Father, perhaps we should consider what she says. We have not fared well in any engagement against her forces,” Truce protested.

“You want to surrender?” Cassia snarled, whirling on her brother.

“I think it’s an option we should consider,” Truce pressed, his eyes flicking to his father’s face.

“Sovaesh did you not hear my command?” Donrey snapped, his eyes fixed directly on his son with a look of disgust on his face.

“I did.” The Assassin pushed from the wall and walked slowly to the desk. “There is something I think you should take a look at first though,” Sovaesh said as he dropped a folded parchment down in front of the High Lord. Truce leaned closer to get a look and frowned as he recognized the blue and silver seal of Morcaillo. The wax had been broken and it was obvious the document had been read.

“What is this?” Donrey demanded as he snatched the letter from his desk and unfolded it quickly. “Why wasn’t this brought to me before being opened?” he demanded. As his eyes scanned the document his expression turned to disbelief. “What is this?” he repeated, sounding confused.

“Every sin you have committed in my sight and enough poison to kill a horse,” Sovaesh answered calmly as he watched the High Lord spasm in his chair.

“Traitor!” Cassia screeched as she stumbled back from her father’s desk. “Kill him daddy. Use the chain and kill him!” she screamed.

A ragged breath tore from his father’s throat as Truce watched in sick fascination. Blood was beginning to fleck around the man’s lips and his skin was turning a dark red as if he couldn’t breathe. Calmly Sovaesh reached into the pocket of his coat and produced a silver chain. Pulling down his mask he smiled coldly at Donrey. “This chain?” Sovaesh asked as he dropped it to clatter on the desk. “You killed my son. You threatened my wife. You sent me to kill my own mother. Did you honestly think there would be no reckoning?” Sovaesh snarled as he stalked around the desk, stopping just behind Donrey’s chair. With a gloved hand he seized Donrey by the hair and pulled his head back savagely. “Do you see this?” Sovaesh snarled as he held a slender silver dagger before Donrey’s eyes. The weapon was finely crafted and more ornate than anything Truce had ever seen the Assassin use.

“Stop him, Truce. He is killing daddy!” Cassia sobbed, her eyes wide with terror.

“This is the dagger you skinned your daughter with, Donrey,” Sovaesh finished as he drove the dagger hard into the High Lord’s eye. The body bucked beneath the Assassin’s grip and Sovaesh released his hold on the man with a look of satisfaction on his face. Turning back to Truce, he smiled again. “Surrender to Merrodin, Truce, while you still have time, and rule better than your father did. He earned that death a thousand times over. Now call your guards and have me arrested. As you sister says, I am a traitor.”

Numbly Truce stared at the Assassin for what felt like eternity before he managed to shake his head slowly. “I don’t want to have you arrested, Sovaesh,” he whispered. In truth he wanted to hug the man or thank him at least.

“You have no choice, Truce. I just killed the High Lord. Your people will expect justice for that,” Sovaesh replied, his voice pitched for Truce’s ears alone.

“Guards!” Cassia screeched from the door, her voice rising like a banshee’s wail. “Guards!” she repeated as she fled the room.

“Thank you,” Truce whispered to the Assassin as the sound of running footsteps filled the hall.





“If they made their house any bigger they would have to set up campgrounds in the hallways for visitors that were trying to get from one side to the other,” Neph grumbled.