Bastial Frenzy (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 4) Read Free Page A

Tenred was already deteriorating before that incident. I thought my father’s murder might’ve been Tegry Hiller’s doing, so I ceased all trading with them. For two years they tried to negotiate new trades, mostly our ironbark wood for their metal. But out of spite, I never agreed. Then when I found out they were sailing around Ovira and exploring the many islands nearby, I became interested in doing the same. I put warriors on the boats I sent out, equipped them with weapons, and told them they could kill men from Tenred if they believed a battle was likely to occur over valuable land or resources.”
    Welson shook his head. “I trusted their discretion too much. There was a battle when one of my ships and one of Tegry’s arrived at the same island. But there were no warriors on their ship. There was some royal blood, though—Tegry’s nephew was the captain. He was killed in combat. When I heard the news, I thought of it as a victory. It was payback for my father. But then the assassination attempts began, poison in my food, attackers in the night, that sort of thing.”
    The King stood and lifted his shirt to expose his side. Cleve saw a scar that looked to have come from a blade.
    “Tegry never claimed responsibility, but it was clearly his doing. I knew it was only a matter of time before we’d be at war, so I started my own assassination attempts. I sent my own spies. When the war finally began, Tegry and I had been preparing for over a decade. Now there are spies everywhere. I just wish I’d known he was going to get the Krepps involved. But it’s too late for regret, which brings me to why you’re here.”
    Welson stood and paced behind his chair. “When Rek joined the battle and I saw firsthand how many Krepps he assisted in killing, I knew then that I was wrong about him and you. But there are other worries I have besides your allegiance that need to be alleviated before I can accept your return. What else has Rek told you about me? Did he mention anything about your father?”
    Welson looked away from Cleve for a moment, his eyes locking onto the stone wall where a painting of his father stared back over folded arms.
    Cleve felt the foreign tingle of psyche. It was like a light scratch of fingernails across his thoughts. He tried to push it out and put up his wall, but this psyche was already on the surface of his mind, not deep within him. It was different from the way Rek pained him or twisted his emotions. This touch of psyche was so light it felt as if Cleve was trying to use his hand to grab motes in the air. Still, he tried to lie as he did his best to force it out.
    “He said nothing about you and my father.”
    The psychic clicked his tongue. “It’s not the truth,” the sickly pale man said, his voice like a creaking door.
    The King wasn’t surprised. “What did Rek tell you?” he asked, still looking at the painting. “Just be honest.”
    Knowing he couldn’t lie, Cleve realized the time had come. He drew a slow breath. “He told me everything he knows.”
    “He shouldn’t have done that.” Welson spoke as if apologizing for the behavior of a family member, reminding Cleve that Rek and Welson had grown up together under the same father. Councilman Kerr had even called them brothers.
    The King finally sat again. Glancing over Cleve’s shoulder at the guards, he said, “Please leave us alone.” He turned to the psychic next. “You as well.”
    When they were gone, Welson leaned over the table.
    “You must have secrets, Cleve. Aren’t there things you know or feel that would be harmful if let out? If not, you must at least agree that there are some secrets better kept hidden?”
    “Of course,” Cleve answered.
    “And do you have any regrets…any mistakes you’ve made in moments of foolishness or childishness?”
    “Everyone does.”
    “What happened with your parents was no mistake, but I do regret it, and it must be kept a secret. I’m sure you don’t need me