be educated by the monks, with a mind both clever and fair. And as befitted a woman who might one day be a Parsathean queen—and if she wished to gain his mother’s approval—she would be tall and strong and a skilled rider, and possess a heart that burned with fire.
Such a woman Maddek would be eager to meet—and take to his bed. For he’d been celibate after assuming command at the Lave eight years past, mindful of his parents’ warning that when the High Commander of the Army of the Great Alliance asked someone to share his furs, there was not much difference between an invitation and an order. And during his short return to the Burning Plains, he’d taken no lovers. Not when his parents were already seeking a bride. Touching anyone else seemed a betrayal of the vows Maddek would make to that woman, and it mattered not that he hadn’t yet met her.
A fine thing it would be, to finally fuck something softer than his fist.
So it was with anticipation that he rode into camp, where Parsathean tents made of mammoth hides and tusks housed the alliance army. Dagoneh had brought with him a hundred soldiers . . . as if expecting Maddek to leave with a large number of Parsatheans.
As Maddek would, if there was to be a wedding.
Yet there was to be no wedding. He entered the commander’s tent with Kelir and Enox at his sides, and one glance at the Tolehi man’s face told Maddek that he was not to receive news about a bride.
Dagoneh still wore his armor, yet had removed his helm, revealing his shaven head. Uncertainly he looked to Enox and Kelir before returning his solemn gaze to Maddek’s. “Perhaps we might speak privately, Commander?”
As if fists had clenched around his lungs, Maddek told him tightly, “There is nothing you can say that they cannot hear.”
Yet what Dagoneh did say, Maddek seemed not to hear. Not through the roaring in his ears.
Yet Enox must have also heard what Maddek could not accept. Fiercely she advanced on the captain, as if the sheer threat of her approach might force him to retrieve what he’d said and shove it back into his mouth.
“That cannot be truth,” Enox spat. “It cannot.”
“It is.” Grave and steady was Dagoneh’s reply. “Ran Ashev and Ran Marek have returned to Mother Temra’s embrace.”
Ran Ashev and Ran Marek. The Parsatheans called them their queen and king.
Maddek called them Mother and Father.
All fierceness leaving her, Enox fell to her knees on a keening wail. With her fists she pounded the ground as if she might reshape the world, as Mother Temra had. As if she might shake her queen and king free of that goddess’s eternal grip.
A harsh sobbing breath came from beside Maddek before Kelir threw back his head. The warrior’s howl of grief sounded as if torn from a bloodied throat.
Maddek’s own howl swelled in his chest, yet it seemed there was no release for it, the grief too deep, a cavernous hollow that had suddenly opened within him.
“How?” So empty was his voice, he knew not how Dagoneh heard it.
Yet the captain must have. With grim regret, the other man shook his head. “I have no answers for you. My message and orders from the council were so bare, I suspect they were sent to Toleh in great haste.”
“And the messenger knew nothing more?” Maddek asked hoarsely.
“Only rumor that your queen and king were killed in Syssia. But I know not if it was bandits or beasts or illness, whether in the city or the outlands.” Voice deep with apology, Dagoneh spread his hands. “I am only to assume command here and send you north to Ephorn.”
To stand before the alliance council and learn what had killed his parents.
What had killed his queen and king.
In his heart yawned a great and painful emptiness, yet unreal it all seemed. Maddek knew the dangers that might befall a warrior . . . but could not imagine what had befallen them. His queen and king had been so strong, and such clever warriors. Unbelievable that they might survive Anumith the Destroyer, only to be killed by bandits.
So he would demand answers of the council. And if it had been bandits, Maddek would hunt down every single one of them.
Answers . . . and vengeance. It seemed that purpose was all that moved his feet. Each breath was a hot, shuddering agony. Maddek emerged from the commander’s tent and a blurred