The Ippos King (Wraith Kings #3) - Grace Draven Page 0,120

king, and he'd exercised his leadership of High Salure in ways His Majesty might not approve, such as his friendship with Brishen Khaskem, but he'd never been disloyal to his country or his king.

“What madness is this?” Anhuset's eyes were like torches, her lips drawn back to expose her teeth as she demanded an explanation.

His thoughts racing, Serovek stared past her and didn't answer.

This was Bryzant's doing. Of that, he had no doubt. His steward, excellent with accounts, was also obviously a fair hand with strategy. He hadn't relied on one plan to get rid of Serovek. He had two. If an upstart warlord with delusions of kingship failed to do it, then a king consumed by paranoia and jealousy just might.

Popularity wasn't a sin unless it bought one the admiration of a kingdom's populace. Then it became a threat, at least to the current ruler. What venom had Bryzant poured into the king's ear to convince him his suspicions were not only unfounded, but so much worse in truth? Another thought made Serovek's blood run cold. He was currently in a stronghold, just not his, and if a contingent of the king's men had ridden this far to capture him, what was going on at High Salure?

“Say the word,” Anhuset continued. Her hand dropped to her sword pommel. “I will fight with you against this idiocy.”

This woman, parsimonious with her displays of affection, willingly courted her own death to defend him. A romance unlike any other, he thought with an inner smile. He stroked her arm.

“Ah, firefly woman, how I wish such a situation might be solved with the hard swing of a blade and some bloodletting,” he said. “Unfortunately, this isn't one of those time and will require a lot more delicacy if we don't want to start a war on two fronts.”

The abbot employed an old but effective tactic of delaying any acknowledgment the commander's statements, allowing Serovek time to plan what he might do. He shouted over the battlements, “Why would you think the margrave of High Salure is here?”

“Let's not play games, abbot,” the troop's leader shouted back. “Half the valley knows he's here, along with a Kai ambassador from Bast-Haradis.”

Tionfa glanced at Serovek, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Tell him sha-Anhuset is no longer here. That there was no reason for her to stay once we brought Megiddo safely to you, and she's returned to Bast-Haradis.”

“What are you doing?” Anhuset practically hissed the question.

When Tionfa relayed Serovek's words, the troop leader shrugged. “She isn't our first concern. We're here for the margrave. If you don't turn him over to us, we'll simply return with a larger force and take him.”

Serovek had expected just such an answer and was ready with one of his own when the abbot said “What do you wish to do?”

“Give myself up, of course.”

This time Anhuset shoved him. “Are you mad too?” she snapped. “That's an admission of guilt, and you aren't guilty.”

He grabbed her shoulders. She was stiffer than a pike stand. “Listen to me. I hoped something like this wouldn't happen, though I'm not surprised it did. This is Bryzant's doing. I know it. A secondary plan in case Chamtivos didn't successfully complete his task. I can explain more later.”

Not at all appeased, she lashed out at him. “You say that as if you'll live to do so.”

He'd have to step carefully and present his argument posthaste, before she decided he was too much of a dimwit to understand his own dire circumstances and take the decisions out of his hands. He wouldn't put it past her to suddenly pull back and punch him hard enough to knock him unconscious.

“That's certainly my intention.” He stroked her arms, speaking urgently. There was only so long the troop's captain would be this patient. “Rodan is a suspicious bastard who sees a threat to the throne in every shadow behind every tree, but he's also clever and a good strategist.

“He has two advantages in play at the moment. I'm away from High Salure, in the territory of a rebel warlord, and enjoying the hospitality of priests many in this kingdom consider heretics. If I remain behind these walls, Rodan will raze my fortress to the ground and arrest those he considers loyal to me. He'll then send a full army to attack the monastery and declare the Nazim heretical.” Tionfa's nod and grim face lent strength to his argument. “This valley finally has a chance for peace. It doesn't need another conflict