The Silent Enemy Read Free

. . for not only had the knight rejected her, but he had helped bring about the death of the man she had later married, the ambitious and treacherous Baron Antonus Sibelio.
    Telaria had been almost a slave to her haughty sister, and it was because of the ill treatment the younger sister had suffered that Nermesa had broken with Orena. Of one of the eldest Houses in all Aquilonia, Orena had taken this as the greatest of affronts to her reputation. She had soon after married the baron, who, unbeknownst to her, had used her as much as she had desired to use him. She it had been who had stirred Antonus into nearly ruining House Klandes’ financial dealings . . . and he it had been who had used his marriage to her to cover his plot to weaken the throne and take down King Conan.
    But the baron had perished horribly at the hands of the sorcerer, Set-Anubis, whom he had enslaved. While Nermesa had not physically slain Antonus, it had been because of him that Set-Anubis had finally been able to strike back at his master. Unfortunately, Orena had not seen it so for quite some time, for months blaming Nermesa for yet another stain to her name.
    Yet, she was the only close kin that Telaria had and, despite everything, Nermesa’s betrothed sought to mend matters with her sister before the marriage took place.
    That process had begun more than a year ago and finally looked to have achieved success. With the aid of her sister’s Gunderman bodyguard, Morannus—a friend also to both Nermesa and Telaria—communication had finally been reestablished after falling apart again following Antonus’s death. It had been difficult going and even the generally staid Morannus had looked relieved when his mistress had given in to her sister’s entreaties.
    “I am most loyal to my lady,” the ponytailed, leather-garbed fighter had told Nermesa during their last encounter. “But her obstinacy can sometimes make me yearn for my homeland.”
    Gunderland was a hilly region to the north that had been one of the earliest additions to the realm, and its warriors were considered among the most trustworthy. True, Baron Sibelio’s treacherous cohorts had included Morannus’s foul-tempered countryman, Betavio; but as a whole the Gundermen were considered so much a part of Aquilonia that they now made up a great part of its armies. Other than Poitain, their region was known as one of the safest in which to journey.
    “I appreciate the effort, believe me,” Nermesa had responded. “Especially since I know I’m a great part of the trouble you had to overcome.”
    This had brought a grin to Morannus’s countenance. The square-jawed bodyguard shrugged his broad shoulders, then shook his head, which sent his dark tail swinging back and forth. “I do what I must, Master Nermesa! I want this rift mended, too, for it only complicates things that do not need to be complicated . . .”
    Telaria’s words and Morannus’s subtle coaxing finally even enabled Orena Lenaro to accept that Nermesa had been granted half of her late husband’s holdings, including his second house, located in Tarantia. That Nermesa had also been made a baron because of the same incident was still a sensitive subject, but at least, for the most part, Telaria had her sister back.
    However, if that one impediment to the marriage seemed to have been overcome, the many originating from Nermesa’s direction had appeared insurmountable. As an officer of the Black Dragons and a favored knight of both General Pallantides—commander of the unit—and the king himself, following his proposal to Telaria, Nermesa had become embroiled in one matter after another for the throne. If the Picts were not testing the western borders, then there were rumors of Nemedian activity in the east. Two nobles had been arrested in the past half year for plotting against the king and been sent to the Iron Tower. Three times, the king had gone on official trips to meet with his counterparts, and Nermesa had