Page 26 of The King has Fallen

~ YILAN ~

Over the following two days I learned that when the General took it upon his very capable shoulders to torment someone, he was a maddening bastard.

I spent that entire time in the cage, hollow on the inside, weakening on the outside.

Yet, not once did he threaten, or growl.

Not once did he attempt to take the spear, or negotiate with me.

The prick just got the hottest, richest food by the plateful and brought it into the tent several times a day.

It started with a breakfast of sizzling hot sausage, honeycakes, sweet fruit and an accompanying mug full of rich, sharp kafk. I would have groaned. Kafk was my favorite drinkin the morning, though usually taken with cream and honey. I watched miserably as he pulled the small table to the center of the tent and placed the plate there, dragging a chair to it and tucking in—but not like a monster. No, this asshole savored every bite, and licked the fat and juices from his fingers, then sat back with a satisfied sigh to drink the warm kafk while staring at me.

“Hungry, Fetch?” he asked casually, as if he were being a good host.

I kept my eyes away from his scraped plate, ignored his smiles, and made rude gestures to his back when he eventually turned away.

Lunch was a plate piled high with roasted pork and fire-seared vegetables, heated applesauce, and a hot cup of cider.

When he set aside the now-empty plate to sit back in his chair, he raised the cup of steaming cider and smiled smugly.

“Hungry, Fetch?” he murmured. Then burped.

I held his gaze until his smile broadened, then looked down at the spear laying over my thighs.

It’s worth it, I told myself, though my clenched jaw had begun to ache.

Dinner was the hardest—and the largest meal that took the longest for him to consume. This pig sipped and savoredtwobowls of a thick, potato chowder, flavored with bacon and onions. Then he slowly peeled the entire skin off a chicken carcass, tipping his head back to stuff the bounty into his brutish maw, the salted, crispy skin crackling between his teeth as he chewed with a delighted smile. When he’d swallowed that treat, he reached for the carcass that had been slow-roasted to such tenderness, the meat literally fell from the bones.

Had a more evil bastard ever walked the earth?

When he picked a drumstick off the carcass and a piece of the steaming hot meat fell into his lap and burned him, he jumped and hissed. I laughed, delighted.

His eyes snapped to mine. Yet instead of growling and scowling, he smiled.

I watched warily as he got up from his chair and walked towards me with the drumstick.

The scent of the food had filled the tent, and my stomach growled audibly as he squatted on the other side of the bars, lifted the drumstick to his mouth and bit off a mouthful, chewing slowly, then wiping a trickle of fat off his chin with his bare knuckle.

The asshole was still smiling when he swallowed.

“Hungry, Fetch?” he asked slyly, waving the mostly bare bone.

“Not for my own demise,” I replied rather more sharply than I should have. His smile broadened, but before he could taunt me further the tent flap twitched aside and Gall entered, his eyes low, and his jaw and cheekbone red and swollen.

I frowned as he walked straight to Melek, his stiff gait making it clear there were many more bruises and tender spots on his thick body under his uniform.

My heart ached for him, but his jaw was tight as he marched to Melek’s side and saluted, one hand to his chest.

“I have taken my punishment and was told to report to you for… duties,” he said thickly.

I wanted to put a blade through the heart of the male who’d beaten this poor child—for he was a child, no matter the size or development of his body.

Melek, clearly thinking the same, stood and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Well done, Son,” he said, his voice almost as thick as Gall’s. “Are you hungry? I have food.”

Gall nodded once, tightly, his hands clenched at his sides.

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