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

encampments, we can return in the spring and reoccupy the city. The Empire knows I defeated Ramael –”
     
    “The Kindred defeated Ramael, you just held the sword.”
     
    “Do NOT interrupt me!” Roared Raven, and everything went silent. His vision had gone red and his temper was suddenly a raging inferno that had grabbed him by the throat.
     
    “Or else what, idiot boy?” Elder Warryn demanded. Shock and affront found its way onto the faces of every single one of the gathered Elders, the only exception being Spader, who just seemed amused by the whole proceeding.
     
    “Senile, maggot-mind fool!” Raven bit back before Leah could stop him.
     
    The following quiet sharpened the air around them and pulled the moment taunt, stretching it until it was ready to snap shut on whoever chose to test it next.
     
    “I will listen to no more of this,” Warryn said. He stood, and strode imperially out of the tent.
     
    Raven wasn’t sure what it was about the man that made him follow. Maybe it was his air of superiority. Maybe it was the way he’d spoken, as if Raven deserved not even the barest hint of civility. Or maybe it was the past month and more of stress, anxiety, and nights spent sleeping on the rough mountain ground in order to help the Kindred, and being given not a hint of respect or credit for it. But whatever it was, it propelled him out of tent on the Elder’s heels despite a cacophony of cries from those gathered within.
     
    “Stand and face me, you ignorant ass!”
     
    The words cracked from his mouth like a whip striking the back of a slave; like Rikard, Prince of Lions, would have spoken. It demanded obedience and caused the Elder to falter in his stride.
     
    They were in the middle of the camp, and all of the Kindred soldiers who were within hearing distance turned and stared in shock. Men sewing patches on shirts froze in mid-stitch; a man beating out dents in his armor slipped and hit his own thumb and cursed loudly before those nearby silenced him.
     
    “How dare you call me such a thing?” Warryn growled. The tall Elder pulled himself up to his full height, his long robes, black with curling gold scrollwork across the chest and the hem, sweeping the ground in a wide circle. It made quite a majestic sight, and no doubt the watching Kindred expected Raven to immediately cower and beg forgiveness.
     
    “I am a member of the Council of Elders,” Warryn called out for all to hear. “And I am clothed in immense power. You will treat me with the respect I deserve.”
     
    Raven laughed, a loud nasty sound, almost manic. The Kindred nearby shifted uncomfortably, staring at him with looks of fear.
     
    “I have stood before the Immortal Empress,” Raven said, “clothed as She has been for over a thousand years in the radiant power of the Diamond Crown. I have heard Rikard, the Prince of Lions, command a hundred rebel men and women to kill themselves by their own hands, and watched as they obeyed. I have seen Geofred, Prince of Eagles and Lord of Prophecy, look into the future and tell me exactly what horrors might occur should he wish to steer the world into chaos. I was the Prince of Ravens, and I have seen the world shake and tremble at the word of the Empress and Her Children. It is these same Children that hunt me, this same Empress who tried to have me assassinated. Every breath I take is in open defiance of the Empire and those who rule it – and you think I’m scared of you ?”
     
    “You owe me respect as an Elder of the Kindred!” Roared Warryn. He stepped forward, his hands balled into fists, but he looked suddenly wary.
     
    Raven ignored him, and stepped forward as well. They were only a few paces apart now, and he could read the hatred written in Warryn’s eyes, and knew the Elder could see the contempt in his own.
     
    “You’re an officious imbecile with no respect or dignity,” said Raven. “I told you honestly what I thought was for the good of the Kindred, and you