Soul of Kandrith (The Kandrith Series) Read Free Page A

the fire, Sara looked up. She catalogued
his face—olive skin, dark hair, blue eyes, bumpy nose, clean-shaven—and noted
his legionnaires’ uniform, then resumed her counting.
    He wasn’t Lance, so he couldn’t be important.
    “Show me your hands!” the man bellowed, rushing closer.
    Sara ignored him. Two hundred and thirty two, two hundred and
thirty-three—
    The legionnaire spared Lance one glance, then ignored him and
prodded her arm with his spear. “I said, ‘Show me your hands.’”
    Her flesh dented under the pressure, the point almost breaking
the skin. He was attacking her. That meant she should hurt him back until he
stopped or retreated. Sara stood up and drew back her leg to kick.
    Unexpectedly, he laughed, and the point of the spear dipped
toward the ground. “Diwo smile on me, it is you.”
    Sara hesitated.
    “Lady Sarathena Remillus.” He laughed until water leaked from
his eyes. “Finally, the Goddess of Luck has taken pity on me. I’ll take you with
me to Temborium. How great a reward will the Primus give for the safe return of
his daughter, do you think?”
    The question made no sense. “Primus Pallax doesn’t have a
daughter.”
    He stopped laughing. “Vez’s Malice. Your father isn’t Primus
anymore?”
    “No.”
    He was silent for a moment. “I shouldn’t be surprised. We all
expected General Pallax to take a run at the Primacy. I suppose he killed your
father.”
    That wasn’t a question so Sara didn’t tell him how her father
really died.
    “Still, you’ll be worth something to House Remillus.” He
circled her, assessing her from all sides.
    Sara waited, still undecided as to whether he was a threat.
    “Are you a virgin?”
    “No.”
    “Too much to hope for.” His brow lowered. “Maybe... Do you have
an uncle?”
    Her mother had had a brother, who was a minor priest of Cepi,
God of Small Favours. “Yes.”
    “Good. I expect he’ll be happy enough to find someone willing
to marry damaged goods—sorry, sweet, but you are.”
    Sara didn’t think she was either damaged or sweet.
    He lifted an eyebrow. “No argument? Someone knocked the
arrogance out of you since we last met.”
    Sara didn’t tax her brain trying to remember him. She’d met
hundreds of legionnaires in her years in the Republic.
    Another pause. “Let’s move out.” He gestured to the woods with
his spear.
    Did that constitute a threat? Sara gave him one more chance.
“I’m not leaving Lance.”
    “Lance?” The legionnaire looked down. “Is that the sick man’s
name? Do you share his bed?”
    Sara usually had her own pallet, but she shared Lance’s on
chilly nights. Lance would hold her against his warm chest, his breath stirring
her hair, and she would go to sleep listening to his heartbeat. “Sometimes.”
    The legionnaire’s lip lifted on one side. “Don’t worry, after a
night in my bed you’ll forget all about the barbarian.” He slapped her
buttocks.
    Ah. He was attacking. Quick as a
striking snake, Sara snapped out her leg and kicked him in the testicles. He
choked and folded in half, clutching his groin. He dropped the spear in the
stream.
    Sara fished for it, but he knocked her hand aside. “Vicious
twotch.” He scooped up the spear before it could float away and pointed it
toward her despite his crouched position. “You’re going to pay for that later.”
Slowly, he straightened, teeth bared. “Now, let’s go.” He watched her carefully.
If she tried to kick him again, he would dodge.
    Lance had told her to stop fighting if she was outmatched and
wait for a better opportunity.
    But Lance was unconscious. If she left with the legionnaire,
Lance wouldn’t know where she’d gone. What if a better opportunity never came?
If she followed this man out of Kandrith, she might never see Lance again.
    What if he died without someone to care for him?
    The thought was like the wrong number in a long mathematical
sequence. Jarring. Unbearable.
    Sara planted her bottom on the muddy