Royal Recruit - Susan Grant Page 0,76

Gone. An odd, wailing sound filled the room and she realized it was her own voice.

You are strong. A warrior.

“No,” she gritted out. “I will not accept this on your word.” She moved toward the doors. “I want to see him.”

“My queen, I do not advise you view the body,” her physician advised. “It will upset you.”

“Do not coddle me!” Keira turned and hurled the dagger at the wall. “Do not keep me from the truth!” Emotion pushed up from her chest like lava. She spun toward Vemekk, stopped, went to her tray to grab a dagger only to find it empty. She stood for a moment, confused, not knowing where to turn or who to turn to. When Jared was there, she never hesitated.

Grief and remorse tore out of her in a sob. She grabbed Ismae by the shoulders. “You said you were my friend. Prove it. Take me to see my husband.”

The woman’s arm moved slightly underneath her robes. Suddenly, Keira’s bare stomach was ice-cold. She glanced down between their bodies to see the minister’s hand pressed to her stomach. She gripped something, pressing it into Keira’s flesh. The cold turned to warmth and spread. Keira opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came out.

“Hush, my queen. It will be all right.”

As Keira’s legs buckled beneath her, she heard Ismae shout to Taye. “Help us! She has passed out from the shock of the news.”

The last thing she felt was Taye’s slender arms sliding around her head and shoulders as she sagged to the floor.

The messenger stood before a screen displaying the teenage Drakken’s suite. Finding the boy in the presence of his sire came as a shocking surprise. “Lord-General Rakkuu…”

“Just giving my son some fatherly advice on how to woo a shy, virgin bride.” The warlord was a large man. Inked patterns covered most of his exposed skin. Beads and other decorative items gleamed in his braided golden-brown hair. The red diamond piercing his nose looked like a droplet of blood. It matched his red and black armor.

The son’s braids, a paler shade than his sire’s, swung like ropes as he spun to face the screen. “Father insists it’s not the best approach to bend her over a chair and fuck her in the ass her very first time. Maybe the second.”

The men laughed like field soldiers and common thugs, a throwback to their savage roots and proof that power could be won and maintained by fear and sheer brutality. Still grinning, the warlord swaggered close to the screen. “You have done well, Tibor. You have always done well for us. Riches await you, finally, after all these years. It has not been easy for your wives, I’m sure, but your rewards, I presume, will more than make up for their trouble.”

Tibor answered with a nod. “They will.”

“What is her condition?” Rorkk demanded. “Is she ready for me?”

The boy fairly trembled at the prospect of mating with the goddess. After all, Tibor had brought reports for years on the shy, frightened, biddable girl in his care. Certainly they didn’t know of her marriage. The only intelligence the warlord received was what Tibor and the others were willing to release. He and his coconspirators. “The goddess is being readied for her journey,” he replied.

“I hope she rests well, then,” Rorkk said. “She will not be getting much upon her arrival. And neither will I.”

“I am sure you are right, my lord.” To the sound of raucous laughter, Tibor closed the screen.

Keira was awakened from a deep, drugged sleep by a familiar, low voice.

“My queen, wake up. We must hurry.” She smelled Tibor’s familiar scent before she peeled open her eyes. “Now,” he ordered.

“Where?” He’d never spoken so abruptly to her. It confused her. “What?”

“Hush now,” he told her, placing a warm, calming hand on her cheek. His eyes were the kind, fatherly eyes she’d known all her life. “I’m taking you to a place where you’ll be safe.”

Did she dare believe him? With Jared dead and the drugs swimming in her head, she hardly cared what happened to her.

“Vemekk drugged me,” she said, her tongue thick. “And Parekka.”

“I administered something to rouse you. You’ll be feeling better shortly.” Tibor helped her wedge her feet into slippers and wrapped the robes of a servant girl around her shoulders.

“Tired,” she complained.

“You’ll sleep later.” He dropped the veil over her face and hustled her out a little-used exit. They hurried through her gardens and then down to the palace underground.

As