Free The Prince of Exiles (The Exile Series) by Hal Emerson

aside, revealing the lined face and long white hair of Elder Crane. His blue-gray eyes took them in.
     
    “Ah good,” said Crane, smiling at them warmly, “you’re here. I’m glad you have arrived – please come in.”
     
    He held back the flap of the tent and they came into the full inner space. A few of the Elders shifted uncomfortably, realizing they’d just been overheard talking about the very person who’d entered the tent, but most seemed to pay it no mind. The man who’d gone to announce them, now waiting patiently at the back of the tent, nodded to Elder Crane and left.
     
    Did Crane know we were listening?
     
    But before he could give that thought the full consideration it merited, there was a great stir and Raven found himself accosted in a flurry of off-white robes.
     
    “ What are you doing out of bed? ” Gasped Elder Keri, coming forward immediately.
     
    “I asked for him,” Ishmael said.
     
    Keri ignored the other Elders, shouldering aside Crane and placing a hand on Raven’s forehead.
     
    “You – you don’t have a fever,” she said, sounding shocked. “How are you even able to stand? I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
     
    “We may be able to shed some light on that Elder Keri,” Tomaz rumbled. “The Talisman that I bear seems to have sped his healing process.”
     
    Keri took a step back, watching Raven very carefully, as if he might at any moment fall to the ground, dead. He made no kind of response to this, simply stood tall and straight, looking around him with a neutral expression.
     
    Inside, however, he was seething.
     
    The wound in his shoulder was throbbing horribly, sending spikes of pain throughout his body. The world was tilting around him now too, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of admitting it. He wanted them to fear him, to think he truly was something more than human. If they saw him as just a man, who knew what they would do? If he took the time to lie in bed for days, would he quietly disappear as so many Exiles had when captured by the Empire? Would the Elders send in an assassin of their own to rid themselves of a possible threat? Crane wouldn’t, but Warryn or one of the others might. He couldn’t be seen as weak – he had to show them, had to show everyone, that he was strong.
     
    And how dare they discuss me as if I were some worthless foot soldier? Some boy in need of their care and pity?
     
    He’d been prepared to be treated as an enemy Prince, someone who couldn’t truly be trusted. He’d been prepared for the kind of hatred Warryn and Henri Perci had shown him. But condescension like what he’d just heard? To be talked about as if he were no more than an overeager child? It was insulting!
     
    Davydd began to give his report, and Leah joined in every now and then with extra details, mentioning the mines, the few soldiers they’d found. Raven remained silent, doing his best to cool his temper, though every time he managed to dampen it somewhat, his wound gave another sickening throb, reminding him that he had put his life on the line not once but multiple times for these old fools, and his ugly mood would return, like a dying fire given fresh kindling.
     
    The talk shifted to the Death Watchmen attack and to Raven’s relief, Tomaz took control of the report, telling them all exactly what had happened in the mountains, including what had happened with the Talismans. At the end of it, Elder Crane turned to Raven, his blue-gray eyes examining him carefully. But Raven was giving away nothing – years of practice before his sister Symanta had given him the ability to hide any emotion.
     
    “Do you have anything to add Raven?” The Elder asked kindly.
     
    Raven’s wound throbbed.
     
    “I do not,” he said, his voice level and easy.
     
    Leah and Davydd both shot covert looks at him, surprised. This was his first true meeting with the Elders since he’d broken into their Council before Aemon’s Stand armed with a