Free Parasite Soul by Chris Jags Page B

to herself, she clung to that.
    She shuddered as she passed the boarded up suite, brushed, as ever,
by Merequio’s ghost. Would he ever leave her completely? Part of
her desired nothing more, resenting his hold upon her mind; part of her knew
she would never be able to cope with the aching hole in her soul.
    Favoring Warring-whatever with a smile so poisonous it might have
felled a weaker man, she turned left into the short passage which led to the
throne room. Trailed by her colorless servant, she made a measured
entrance. Few courtiers were in attendance, which suited Tiera just fine;
more often than not she wanted to suffocate these mewling sycophants with their
powdered wigs. Her father adorned his throne as though he’d been sculpted
into it. Facing him, one hand raised in salute, stood General Gharletto,
a towering, square block of a man, his beard as wildly unkempt as that of the
lowliest beggar.
    King Minus turned a blind eye to Gharletto’s appearance; he was
widely known as the only man whom the monarch respected. The General
wasn’t even required to kneel in the presence of royalty. His stalwart defense
of the kingdom during invasions he’d historically repelled before Tiera’s birth
had earned him the reputation of a fearless, almost godlike warrior in
Cannevish. His fleeing adversaries had often described him as completely
mad; how else could they explain a man willing to charge an enemy line without
soldiers at his back, roaring like a thousand dragons? Legend had it that
Gharletto had returned from his last campaign so utterly drenched in gore that
his own men could no longer recognize him.
    Advanced now in years, Gharletto’s legendary battlefield prowess had
faded, yet he’d never lost the esteem of his soldiers, the people, or his
liege. He’d been the first man in the kingdom to publicly offer his
services to eliminate the Cannevish Wyrm, but King Minus had declared him too
valuable to the kingdom. The truth, as Tiera saw it, was that her father
couldn’t allow one of the nation’s greatest legends to be seen to fail.
He’d therefore put the general on the ‘vital’ duty of border defense, while his
agents spread rumors of potential invasion. In that way, the uncritical
of Cannevish didn’t question why their legendary hero hadn’t yet dealt with the
greatest threat to their way of life in decades.
    By way of contrast, Tiera wasn’t remotely fond of Gharletto,
repelled by his hooked vulture’s-beak nose, rotting teeth, and careless
manner. She understood his value as an icon, but when she was in charge,
by Vanyon, the man would learn to address her with the proper respect.
    Behind the general knelt two quaking soldiers in chains. Both
were young men; a tow-headed lad and a larger, bearded fellow whose little pig
eyes bugged with fright.
    “Princess,” Gharletto acknowledged, nodding toward Tiera as she
entered. His eyes lingered on her a moment too long.
    Insolent prick, she thought as she swept
across to her throne and seated herself with all the stiff dignity as she could
muster.
    “These men,” King Minus waved a hand at the terrified prisoners as
Farrow fell in behind Tiera’s throne, a somber shadow. “Why have you
brought them before me?”
    Gharletto picked at his teeth. “Well, normally, I’d see to
their punishment myself. But seeing how as yourself, Majesty, and your
daughter have a vested interest in the outcome of their failure, I thought I’d
make you a gift of them. These two halfwits lost track of their charge
not once, or even twice – damnable enough – but three times. They allowed
this lad Simon to sneak out of the inn what where we had him housed, and later
failed to apprehend him and the handmaiden as they fled into the lake.
Then, instead of turning the issue over to the nearest guardhouse, where the
officers would have been able to deploy troops to patrol the shoreline in a
timely fashion, they took it upon themselves to commandeer a fishing boat