The Ippos King (Wraith Kings #3) - Grace Draven Page 0,124

valley, ostensibly to return the body of the monk Megiddo Cermak to the Jeden Order. I believe, however, based on an informant's knowledge, he is meeting with the warlord Chamtivos. All in the Beladine kingdom know of this insurgent and his desire to wrest the lands from the Nazim despite Your Majesty's decree that the valley belongs to them. Two such men, with military knowledge and the leadership prowess that persuades other men to follow them, would be a force to reckon with should they decide to form an alliance. You may also find it of interest that a high-ranking ambassador of Bast-Haradis has accompanied Lord Pangion on this trip, though there is no reason why such a representative of the Kai kingdom is needed.”

When he was done, he refolded the missive and dropped it back on the table. “There's more, mostly groveling praise of little consequence. I won't bother reading that part. I've known you long enough, Pangion, to know you have no more patience for that sort of thing than I do. But what your steward says here.” He tapped the missive with a finger tip. “And the information he has paints a picture a grim picture of a man with aspirations that are… problematic to say the least. What do you say to all of this?”

I'd say you're a blind fool for believing the words of an upstart steward with ambitions far beyond his capabilities instead of looking at years of unswerving loyalty. Instead, Serovek replied with “You're correct, Your Majesty. You've known me a long time, and in that time, I've served your interests faithfully, kept your borders secured and the kingdom of Belawat safe from man and demon alike. My steward's concerned message consists of crumbs of truth wrapped in a layer of lies, a toxic cake with no substance except its poison.”

He proceeded to relay the events of the trip from the time Anhuset arrived at High Salure to when Ratik arrived with his troop, leaving out the parts about his intimacy with the Kai woman and changing the story line from Anhuset standing next to him on the battlements to her leaving for Saggara the moment they put Megiddo into the monks' safekeeping. He wanted to leave out the part where they visited Haradis but suspected Ogran or Bryzant had already relayed that information to whatever go-between messenger they used to relay information to the king.

Rodan's harsh features didn't change through the narrative or when it ended, nor did his raptor gaze turn friendly. “What happened to your horse?”

The question confirmed for Serovek the wisdom of having Anhuset ride Magas to Saggara. He adopted a pained expression. “Lost in Chamtivos's raid on us. I didn't recover him, nor did the Nazim.”

A flicker of disappointment caught in Rodan's eyes. “A loss. He was a magnificent animal.”

And one that will never be yours, Serovek thought. Even if I don't survive this ludicrous circumstance.

He bowed his head in a supplicating gesture. “May I speak more, Your Highness?” The action must have appealed to the king for he nodded. “If you want absolute proof that my journey to the Jeden Order wasn't to open negotiations for an alliance with Chamtivos, then bring one of the monks to Timsiora to witness in my defense, or better yet, have them bring Chamtivos's head with them. I was the one who took it off his body. I'm content in my role as margrave. I visit the capital only upon your summons, not because I'm enamored with court and its trappings. Belawat already has a king who rules the kingdom with a deft hand.”

“So does High Salure” Rodan replied in a voice gone icy. “All you lack is a crown, and I find it hard to believe that a man of your standing with a powerful and loyal army of your own might remain content to govern a backwater. Especially one so far from the seat of real power. You understand if I'm convinced of your treachery, you will be executed for your crimes.

“I do.” It wasn't Bryzant's letter and machinations he'd have to conquer, but the king's own perceptions of his influence and his ambitions. They, more than some falsely histrionic letter from an unimportant steward, would determine his fate.

Rodan motioned to something behind Serovek, and the rhythmic march of boots grew louder as they neared. Serovek tensed but remained kneeling. “I'll speak to other witnesses over the next few days,” the king said. “I may even wait a little

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