Page 14 of Path of the Dark
Reoul shifted his attention from his lover to the enchanter who had just broken into his chamber. Dark haired and clad head to foot in black leather, Gael exuded barely-contained power. He leaned up against the hearth, his expression urbane, although his dark-brown eyes gleamed.
Reoul clenched his jaw. He hated being put at a disadvantage. He wanted this intruder dead, not lounging in his solar. “I’m waiting,” he growled, flipping his dagger with deliberate menace. “How is it you wish to serve me?”
“Through enchantment,” Gael replied. To his credit, the man had balls. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the blade just a few feet away, one that Reoul could easily let fly at his heart.
“The king already has enchanters,” Saskia snapped.
Gael’s mouth curved. “None like me.”
Reoul frowned as he flipped the dagger once more. This man’s insolence grated on him.
Seemingly oblivious to Reoul’s growing impatience, Gael reached into his collar and withdrew something furry and grey.
Reoul’s fingers fumbled, and the knife clattered to the stone pavers.
The king’s legs suddenly went weak under him. He sank back against the window ledge, glad that it was behind him.
The shadows strike me down.
That was a large rat the enchanter had just placed on his shoulder.
Gael smiled at Reoul, his eyes gleaming. “Meet Shade.”
Reoul bent down and scooped upReaper. He’d gotten such a shock he’d nearly sliced his hand on the blade. The king then glanced over at Saskia. His lover was staring at the intruder, surprise suffusing her features. “You have a familiar?”
“Aye,” Gael replied, his smile widening. “Only the strongest of us attract them, do we not?”
Saskia’s mouth thinned, yet she didn’t reply.
Smirking, Gael shifted his attention back to Reoul and met the king’s gaze once more. “How many enchanters did you bring with you from Anthor?”
Reoul held Gael’s gaze, forcing himself not to look at that sleek grey rat with its naked pink tail and glowing red eyes. No one, not even members of his own family, knew he hated rodents. Dropping the dagger, however, had just exposed his fear to the room. He’d not let either of his companions see it again—even if the rat’s proximity made his heart race and sweat slide down his spine. “Around twenty,” he replied finally.
“That’s not enough.”
Reoul scowled. “It was enough to help take Thûn.”
“But not enough to invade Rithmar.”
“Rithmar can wait,” Reoul replied, his voice dropping dangerously. “I’ll march north when I’m ready.”
“You might find that Rithmar moves before you do,” Gael countered, not remotely intimidated. “I’ve just traveled down from The Royal City … and the word there is that Nathan intends to liberate Veldoras. He’s called in troops from every corner of the kingdom.”
Reoul leaned back against the sill and started to toy withReaperonce more. The long slender blade made of folded Anthor steel gleamed in the firelight. “They’re rumors … nothing more,” he said after a lengthy pause. “Nathan wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t he?” Gael answered. The man used a glib tone that made Reoul’s hackles rise once more. “Rithmar’s House of Light and Darkness is already the strongest in all The Four Kingdoms. With Ninia of Thûn, they’ll be unbeatable. How long before Nathan rallies his troops and marches south? How long before that girl blasts you off her throne?”
Reoul went still, his pulse now thudding hard against his breastbone. Not from fear of the rat, but from anger. So news of the princess had spread. This wasn’t good—but with any luck Elias would soon kill Ninia, as he should have done weeks ago.
Gael pushed himself off the hearth and went over to the sideboard, helping himself to a goblet of wine. “To face Ninia, you need a host of enchanters that together rival her strength.”
Silence fell. Reoul’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his dagger. He’d had enough of this enchanter’s arrogance. “And how do I achieve that?”
“Thûn has a House of Light and Darkness, does it not?”
Saskia snorted. “King Aron has ensured they are little more than slum dwellers these days,” she said, her voice cutting. “They’re useless.”
“They won’t be when I’m finished with them,” Gael replied with a smile. He then lifted the goblet to his lips and took a deep draft. “Delicious … how I’ve missed southern wine.”
