Sword of Wrath (Kormak Book Eight) Read Free

service of my king this night,” said Jonas.
    “You did enough. I saw you in the Museum. You stood firm when others fled.”
    Jonas gave a small shrug. “It is generous of you to say so, but I did nothing.”
    “There is nothing much anyone can do against an Old One like Vorkhul.”
    “You did more than a whole company of troops.”
    “It’s something I was trained and equipped to deal with.”
    Jonas fell into step beside Kormak. “I hear you have had words with the king and Prince Taran.”
    “They want me to go to Terra Nova and look for more Old Ones.”
    “And you do not want to go?”
    Kormak shook his head. “I do not like being told I must do something by anyone other than the grand master of my order.”
    Jonas smiled. “And you do not appreciate that even from him, unless I miss my guess.”
    “Him I swore to obey. And I keep my oaths.”
    “I know and I respect that.” It was flattery, pure and simple. Jonas might well mean it, but he would say it anyway. It was his job to get what his master wanted. “The king could get Grand Master Darius to give you that order. He has that much power.”
    “He has that much gold.”
    “We are both old enough to understand that the two are often interchangeable.”
    “For a priest, you are a very cynical man.”
    “I am a realist, Sir Kormak, and so, in your own way, are you. You must know you gain nothing by defying the will of the most powerful ruler in the West.”
    “Is that what I am doing?”
    “You know as well as I do that you are. It is a very dangerous thing.”
    “Was that a threat, Frater?” Kormak’s tone was mild, but Jonas flinched.
    “Not from me. Believe me, I have nothing but goodwill towards you.” He glanced over his shoulder as if checking to be sure they could not be overheard. “Prince Taran, on the other hand, does not like things he cannot control. Or people who are not afraid of him.”
    Kormak kept quiet. It had taken a lot of courage for Jonas to say that. He doubted that the prince had put Jonas up to it.
    “Prince Taran is a powerful man,” Kormak said. “He is used to getting his way.”
    “He is.”
    “I take it you think that I should do what he asks.”
    Jonas’s smile held real warmth. “I think that if you decide not to, you should get out of Siderea very quickly and make a point of not coming back.”
    “Thank you for that,” said Kormak. He meant it. Jonas was a servant of the crown, and what he had just said could be construed as disloyalty. It was something Prince Taran would reward with a headsman’s blade.
    “There is nothing to thank me for,” Jonas said. “You have saved my life on several occasions, and you have saved the life of my king. I want you to know that someone here values what you did.”
    They entered the palace and Kormak took the stairs up to his room. Perhaps he had misjudged Jonas. Perhaps. But he doubted it.

    * * *
    K ormak rose the next morning , still weary. He had snatched only a few hours of sleep, and his dreams had been strange. He threw open the curtains. Sunlight and the smell of last night’s burning greeted him.
    Swiftly he dressed, making sure his blade was near at hand. He wore court livery that had appeared on the dresser in his room overnight. It disturbed him that he had slept through the servant’s arrival; it was not something that would have happened under normal circumstances. His throat could have been slit in the night, and he could have done nothing about it.
    Rhiana’s chamber lay across from his own. Kormak knocked on the door.
    “Who is it?” Rhiana asked.
    “Me,” Kormak said.
    The door opened. The merwoman stood there, garbed once more in her seafarer’s tunic and leather britches. Her ash-blonde hair was clipped close. Her green eyes surveyed him with cool appraisal. A curved scimitar hung at her waist, and a dagger was in her belt. Disappointment struck him at the sight of her cold expression. He had expected her to be pleased.
    “The weapon