Free A Rule of Queens (Book #13 in the Sorcerer's Ring) by Morgan Rice

stop as before him there appeared a tall, muscular
villager holding a spear, flanked by a dozen muscular men. It was the same man
from the ship, the one that protested their arrival—and he did not look happy.
    “You endanger all of our people by allowing the
strangers here,” he said darkly. “You must send them back to where they came
from. It is not our job to take in every last race that washes up here.”
    Bokbu shook his head as he faced him.
    “Your fathers are ashamed of you,” he said. “The
laws of our hospitality extend to all.”
    “And is it the burden of a slave to extend
hospitality?” he retorted. “When we cannot even find it ourselves?”
    “How we are treated has no bearing on how we
treat others,” the chief retorted. “And we shall not turn away those who need
us.”
    The villager sneered back, glaring at Gwendolyn,
Kendrick, the others, then back to the chief.
    “We do not want them here,” he said, seething.
“The caves are not far away enough, and every day they are here, we are a day
closer to death.”
    “And what good is this life you cling to if it
is not spent justly?” the chief asked.
    The man stared him down for a long time, the
finally turned and stormed off, his men following him.
    Gwendolyn watched them go, wondering.
    “Do not mind him,” the chief said, as he
continued walking and Gwen and the others fell in beside him.
    “I do not wish to be a burden on you,” Gwendolyn
said. “We can leave.”
    The chief shook his head.
    “You will not leave,” he said. “Not until you
are rested and ready. There are other places you can go in the Empire, if you
choose. Places that are also well hidden. But they are far from here, and
dangerous to reach, and you must recover and decide and stay here with us. I
insist on it. In fact, for this night only, I wish for you to join us, to join
our festivities in the village. It is already nightfall—the Empire will not see
you—and this is an important day for us. I would be honored to have you as our
guests.”
    Gwendolyn noticed dusk was falling, saw all the
bonfires being lit, the villagers dressed in their finest, gathering around; she
heard a drumbeat start to rise up, soft, steady, then chanting. She saw
children running around, grabbing treats that looked like candies. She saw men
passing around coconuts filled with some sort of liquid, and she could smell
the meat in the air from the large animals roasting on the fires.
    Gwen liked the idea of her people having a
chance to rest and recover and have a good meal before they ascended to the
isolation of the caves.
    She turned to the chief.
    “I’d like that,” she said. “I would like that very
much.”
    *
    Sandara walked by Kendrick’s side, overcome
with emotion to be back home again. She was happy to be home, to be back with
her people on familiar land; yet she also felt restrained, felt like a slave
again. Being here brought back memories of why she had left, why she had
volunteered to be in service to the Empire and cross the seas with them as a
healer. At least it had gotten her out of this place.
    Sandara felt so relieved that she had been able
to help save Gwendolyn’s people, to bring them all here before they died at
sea. As she walked beside Kendrick, more than anything, she wanted to hold his
hand, to proudly display her man to her people. But she could not. There were
too many eyes on them, and she knew her village would never condone a union
between the races.
    Kendrick, as if reading her thoughts, reached
up and slipped an arm around her waist, and Sandara quickly brushed it away.
Kendrick looked at her, hurt.
    “Not here,” she replied softly, feeling guilty.
    Kendrick frowned, baffled.
    “We have spoken of this,” she said. “I told you
my people are rigid. I must respect their laws.”
    “Are you ashamed of me then?” Kendrick asked.
    Sandara shook her head.
    “No, my lord. On the contrary. There is no one
I am more proud of. And no one I love