Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 32461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
“Very little, I am sorry to say.”
“Her name? Can you at least tell me that,” Torden asked and waited, hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was.
“Ismera.”
The name echoed through his head as if the queen had shouted it.
The hellion he had no wish ever to deal with again. And now he was obligated to find her and bring her before a queen who might very well order her to hang.
Chapter 17
Creagan’s Task
The door across the passage opened.
Creagan looked up from where he sat, sprawled comfortably in the chair, one ankle resting over the opposite knee. Torden stepped from the queen's solar and closed the door behind him.
Creagan's smile came easily. It always did.
Torden did not move.
Legion had left angry enough to walk straight past them without a word. Torden stood differently. His jaw was tight, his shoulders rigid, and there was something in his expression Creagan rarely saw.
Concern. Not annoyance, which was his usual expression, but concern.
Creagan lifted the decanter from the table and poured another measure of wine into a goblet.
“So,” he said. “I assume the queen has made another friend.”
Torden crossed the hall and entered the chamber.
Creagan raised the goblet toward him. “Wine?”
Torden shook his head.
“You may regret refusing it.”
Torden ignored the remark and stared at him.
Creagan took a swallow as the silence stretched between them. He knew Torden well enough not to fill it too quickly.
Finally, Torden said, “She wants you next.”
“Aye, who else could it be, since I am the last one left?” he said with a slight laugh.
“No time for humor,” Torden warned. You've seen Legion and now me.”
Creagan's smile widened. “Unfortunately.”
Torden gave him a look that would have unsettled most men.
Creagan raised the goblet as if in a salute and drank again.
“Whatever she commands,” Torden said, “don't underestimate her.”
“A foolish thing for any man to do. I, myself, never underestimate women.”
“This one you need to pay heed, extra heed,” Torden cautioned.
That caused Creagan to smile. “Now you're making her sound interesting.”
“She is in more ways than one, which can make her dangerous.”
“Now you really have me interested,” he said, his playful smile fading as he placed the goblet on a small table and stood with a stretch.
Torden watched him closely as his strong strides took him around the chair toward the door.
“What?” Creagan asked, catching his intense look.
“Nothing.”
“You've never been good at nothing, Torden.”
Torden gave the slightest shake of his head. “I have seen you walk into battles smiling.”
Creagan laughed. “I've walked out of them smiling as well.”
“That is true.”
“And yet,” Creagan encouraged.
Torden did not hesitate. “You look ready for battle.”
Creagan glanced toward the closed door across the passage. “Perhaps I am.”
“Keep your shield up,” Torden warned.
Creagan smiled. “I always do.”
He crossed the passage and knocked on the door.
Eudora's voice rang out. “Enter.”
Creagan opened the door and stepped inside.
The queen stood beside the table waiting for him.
The room felt warmer than the small chamber across the hall, though the hearth fire had burned lower.
Creagan closed the door behind him, his smile charming as ever. “Once again you summon me and I appear.”
“As is your obligation,” she said and walked away from the table.
There was a stiffness to her movements he hadn't noticed earlier. He had watched Eudora in the Great Hall. Seen her settle petty disputes, silence a room, embarrass foolish men, dismiss Wilford when he objected to being excluded, and then face three men she had summoned from legend without flinching.
Yet something troubled her now.
Creagan leaned one shoulder against the door and since she remained silent, he spoke. “Legion looked ready to tear your castle apart when he left.”
“He did not.”
“Torden looked as though he might help.”
“He did not,” she repeated.
He rubbed his chin. “Perhaps they're saving it for later.”
“Do you ever take anything seriously?”
The question came quickly and more sharply than he expected.
Creagan's smile remained, though his eyes narrowed slightly. “When necessary.”
“And who decides when something is necessary?”
“Well, of course, I do,” he said, as if it was obvious.
“Except, of course, now that you stand before me,” she corrected.
“Ahh, I see you wish to remind me of my place,” he said, his smile turning mischievous.
“When necessary.” She sighed lightly. “Which I believe will be often with you.”
He caught it then, barely but he saw it… unease.
“Something worries you,” he said, his smile faltering.
“I am queen. Worry is my steadfast companion.”
He shook his head. “That isn't what I meant.”
Her gaze met his and he caught it again… concern. No matter how much she may try to deny it, he saw it. And it made him wonder. Would his task prove more difficult than Legion's or Torden's? Or perhaps more dangerous. Maybe she expected him to cross into another kingdom. Maybe kill someone heavily guarded. Maybe strike against the very person behind the threat to her throne.
He found the possibilities mildly entertaining.
“Why do you need me?” he asked.