Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,53
wife, Siva, entered, still dressed in her furs. Her long blonde hair spilled over her ample breasts, held up by a fur covering the Cisean’s considered clothing. Lazarus said nothing as Thorne smiled warmly. “Get us a few ales, my love, would you?” She nodded, casting a curious glance at Lazarus before disappearing again.
Thorne groaned as he settled into his chair. “Alright, speak,” he said. “What is it that you wished to see me about.”
Lazarus sat back, steepling his fingers as he said, “Claudius is not well.”
“Yes, and his blood heirs are sniveling children despite their age, with little to no knowledge of what it takes to lead a people,” Thorne replied as Siva came back with two large mugs of amber liquid. She set them down on the table and leaned over to press a quick kiss to the Cisean leader’s lips. She said something quietly in their native tongue and Thorne shot Lazarus a quick glance before nodding.
Lazarus lifted a brow as Siva left, and Thorne grinned around the rim of his mug. “Caught that, did you?" he asked, taking a long drink. “Seems it’s already started.”
“I will handle Quinn,” Lazarus said through gritted teeth. “Do not worry.”
“Oh, I’m not worried,” Thorne said, his chest rumbling with barely suppressed laughter. “But it’s even obvious to Siva that my warriors are very interested in your girl.”
“Quinn and I hold a contract, regardless of who or what may interest her.” Lazarus took a hefty breath, stopping himself from continuing before leveling the other man with a dark glare. “The matter at hand,” he said, drawing them back on track.
Thorne sobered. “Yes, about your king. Proceed.”
“Claudius is naming me as Norcasta’s heir.”
“That is what the people are telling me these days. What do his blood heirs think?”
“They’re reasonably unhappy.” Lazarus’ expression didn’t change as he relayed this information, which only seemed to amuse Thorne even more as he downed another gulp of his ale.
“Reasonably?” Thorne shook his head. “You only say that because it’s exactly what you expected.”
“Men like Claudius’ blood heirs are predictable,” Lazarus agreed.
“Aren’t they, though?” Thorne leaned farther back in his seat. “But that still doesn’t explain why you came here? And why so early?”
“I was attacked about a half a day’s ride from Shallowyn two weeks ago.”
“Oh?” Thorne’s eyes settled and focused on Lazarus. “Did you leave anyone alive?”
Lazarus shook his head and looked away, glancing to the open doorway. “No.”
“Hmmmm. Then you don’t know for sure who sent them,” Thorne deduced.
“I have my suspicions,” Lazarus replied, “but it confirms something else.”
Thorne nodded. “Your ascension to the throne will not be a simple and easy process.”
“No.” Lazarus moved his mug away and leaned forward. “I need friends at my back.”
Thorne laughed again, but this time it was hollow. “You collect many things, Lazarus, but friends are not amongst them.”
Lazarus stilled but didn’t take his eyes away from Thorne. “No, but you do.”
“That is very true.” Thorne paused for a moment before draining his mug completely and then slamming it down on the table, dropping his voice as he propped his forearms on the rough table top. “And I’d be an idiot to not ally myself with the greatest dark Maji of our generation, wouldn’t I?”
Mostly because he wasn’t sure if a certain woman was actually the holder of that title.
“No?” Thorne tilted his head, his gaze fixated and serious. “Either way, I accept your offer of friendship. One cannot exist in this world without friends, not if you want to keep living. Whether you recognize that your vassals see you as their friend or not, that is what they see. They are loyal not to a future king, but to a friend and that is far more powerful than any skeev born into privilege could hope to attain."
Lazarus remained silent for several seconds. His head lifted, his dark eyes meeting Thorne’s gaze. “Claudius’ children are not without magic,” he said quietly. “They still have the blood of a Maji running in their veins. They have an affinity.”
Thorne scoffed, turning away. He reached for Lazarus’ untouched mug and lifted it to his lips for a long pull. “I have met the bastards Claudius calls children. I have seen their auras. They are practically non-Maji, they are so weak.”
“They will have many followers,” Lazarus said.
“Non-Maji like them, I predict.” Thorne looked down into the swirling amber liquid in the mug in his hand, watching as the bubbles circled the