The Ippos King (Wraith Kings #3) - Grace Draven Page 0,6

thoughtful and measured in his decisions, but that sword held the last vestiges of Kai magic in its purest, most ancient, most powerful form. She doubted he’d be moved by even Ildiko’s considerable influence, much less her own arguments. She kept that opinion behind her teeth and gave Ildiko a quick nod. “I’ll do my best.”

They sparred a few more rounds, half-heartedly now that their thoughts were on Serovek’s upcoming visit and the manifestation of wraith magic that had touched Brishen before fading. Once their session finished, they parted with the promise to keep a closer eye on the herceges and report to each other if the manifestations of magic increased in either occurrence or intensity or both. Anhuset hoped neither would happen. House Khaskem had enough to contend with trying to hold the fragile Kai kingdom together.

She spent the remainder of the week leading patrols, training new soldiers, and taking reports from Brishen’s spies regarding the mood of so many displaced Kai. No one had ventured back to the ruined capital of Haradis. Memories of the galla still plagued people in their worst dreams, and many now considered the city cursed. Even Brishen physically recoiled when Anhuset suggested she lead a small expedition to Haradis to explore whether or not any portion of it was habitable.

“Not yet,” he’d said in a voice thick with the recollection of ghosts. “Not yet.”

She hadn’t pushed, her offer to go spurred more by a sense of duty than by a macabre curiosity. Memories of Haradis being overrun by galla didn’t haunt her dreams. She'd been in Saggara when it happened. Still, there had been more than a few days when she’d awakened to find her own claws tearing through her blankets, the image of Brishen impaled on the ensorceled sword that would transform him into a Wraith king, the Beladine margrave his executioner.

The equally grotesque memory of Serovek’s resolute face and grim smile when he asked her to deal his own death blow to start his transformation destroyed her sleep just as often. Her reason told her such an act of violence had been necessary. Her guilt assured her none of it mattered and ate at her insides. This man had once saved her life and the life of her cousin. She'd repaid him by plunging a sword blade into his gut.

That thought worried at her like an angry hornet, and by the time the week was done and Lord Pangion scheduled to appear at Saggara, Anhuset was in a foul mood, wishing she’d never agreed to participate at supper or the meeting Brishen had scheduled afterwards.

She had just left the training arena, drenched in sweat and short-tempered despite a grueling practice session with other fighters, when a flurry of activity near the redoubt’s main gates caught her attention. The Kai clustered there either waved, bowed, or simply stared as Serovek and two of his retainers casually guided their mounts through the entrance and past their observers.

He was still as ugly as she recalled. A big man on a big horse, he sat in the saddle with the practiced ease of someone who probably spent more time there than on his own two feet. The flickering light from the torches set around the bailey gilded his dark hair where it trailed over his shoulders. The last time she’d seen him, he’d sported a beard that blunted the angles and hollows of his face. He was clean-shaven now, skin paler than she remembered, likely from more time spent inside during the harsh mountain winters.

In profile, his beardless features looked carved from stone, not with a sculptor’s chisel but a hunter’s skinning knife. If she looked upon him as just a construct of facial bones, she understood why Ildiko said he was handsome, but the awful human eyes and horse-toothed smile ruined his visage, just as it did every human Anhuset encountered. She bore no resentment toward humans who reacted in similar fashion to the Kai. They shared a mutual revulsion of each other’s appearances.

Still, there was something about this man that fascinated her, despite her disgust at the notion. Anhuset wouldn’t hesitate to admit or agree that Serovek Pangion was bold, courageous, and possessed a nobility of character that was often in short supply in both the Kai and human races. He had saved her and Ildiko from capture and death by raiders and their mage hounds, tended Anhuset’s wounds and participated in Brishen’s rescue. And he had volunteered to become a Wraith king

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