Free A Man Betrayed by J. V. Jones Page A

They were all
right. The girl had made it back safely, their lives were unchanged. What about
Melli?
    "So, you
see," the girl was saying, "I had to wait it out overnight, or the
guard set to watch the chicken coop might have spotted me."
    The girl had been
within sight of the chicken coop! Things were beginning to fall into place:
Rovas had brought him here on her horse, so she had been forced to hide from
the soldiers, and then make it back on foot. Questions jumped to Jack's lips.
Why had they taken him? Why had they acted against their own countrymen? And
what did they want with him? More important than all that was the fact that the
girl who just walked in had spent the night near the chicken coop.
    "What
happened to the girl in the coop?" he demanded, surprised at the venom in
his voice.
    All three turned
to look at him. Jack caught the quick exchange of glances between Rovas and the
girl-a warning given and received.
    "She is
dead," said the girl. "The captain ordered her to be clubbed to death,
as befits an accomplice to murder."
    Melliandra. His
daughter would have been queen this day. What a fool she had been to run away.
What a fool he had been to let her get away. She was a jewel, cut for
royalty, polished for power, a fitting adornment for a king. He had not seen
her in so long; how he missed her quick wit and sparkling eyes.
    Feeling old and
saddened, Maybor drew his cloak close. The snow had turned to sleet and was
driving into his face. He was waiting for the tents to be erected. The tidings
that the messenger brought were of such import that it was decided to set up
camp then and there, and travel no more this day. This arrangement suited
Maybor nicely; not only did he want to question the messenger further about the
circumstances leading to the king's death, but also, since the fall from his
horse and his subsequent painful landing in a thorn bush, riding had become
rather painful. He was quite sure the physician hadn't pulled out all the
thorns from his backside. It would be just like their kind. If they couldn't
kill you outright with their cures, they always had other ways to make you
suffer.
    As for his horse
dropping dead under him, well, just wait till he returned to Harvell. The horse
dealer who'd sold him the stallion would find himself in line for a flogging if
he didn't return the two hundred golds. Maybor grunted, sending whitened breath
into the air. He would see to it that the dealer was flogged even after the
money was returned; someone had to pay for his humiliation.
    Maybor glanced
toward Baralis. The black-cloaked lord was hovering like a vulture. It was
obvious that he wanted to be the first to question the messenger. He probably
supposed that as king's chancellor he had that right, but he, Maybor,
was head of this party and he would decide the rules.
    The steward came
forward and informed him his tent was ready. Maybor instructed the man to fetch
the messenger as soon as he was refreshed and out of his riding clothes.
    "But,
sir," said the steward, "Lord Baralis has requested his presence
first."
    Maybor pulled a
gold coin from his doublet and pressed it into the soft flesh of the man's
palm. "Here. See to it that the messenger comes to me first." The
steward nodded and dashed off. Loyalty was one means of ensuring one's orders
were carried out. Gold was another.
    He stepped into
his tent and set about stripping off his outer clothes. Just as he was
struggling with the awkward back fastenings of his tunic, Baralis entered.
    "Should I
call a servant to help you?" he said, moving forward, his lips parting to
show a rare glimpse of tooth. "I can see you're having trouble with those
laces. I must say, I find it quite admirable the way you endure being laced
into a garment like a girl." Baralis crossed over to the low table that
had been set with food and drink, and poured himself a glass of wine.
    Maybor was
furious, but he had enough presence of mind to realize that he would look