Zaxe's Rule (Assassins of Gravas #4) - N.J. Walters Page 0,65

close.

Heedless of the danger, Jamaeh rushed to his side. A guard lunged for her, but she gave him the slip. He wanted to wrap his arms around her to keep her safe but needed his hands free. “I can’t leave you alone for two minutes, can I?” She ran her hand over his arm, fingering the burn hole in his shirt.

“Battlesuit,” he reminded her.

“You keep saying that. Yet I still worry.” Lines of tension furrowed her brow, and she bit her lip. There was so much they needed to talk about.

“Stand back by the wall. Be ready if we have to run.” He kept his voice low.

She gave a nod and faded back to stand beside Esau. Reaching out, she took his hand and tugged him toward her. The guards were too busy watching the scene in front of them to notice. And they likely didn’t believe she was foolish enough to try to run.

“I chose to let him have that one shot.” Zaxe pulled a knife from a pocket in his cloak and twirled it around. Everyone went silent, no one wanting to miss a word of the exchange. “I could have killed him.”

His uncle snorted. “I don’t think so.”

Zaxe smiled. “Want to test me?”

Chapter Seventeen

Jamaeh’s palms were sweating. She surreptitiously rubbed her free one against her cloak. When Samar had shot at Zaxe, she’d been unable to breathe. It didn’t matter that Zaxe had lied to her. Okay, he hadn’t lied, but he’d withheld the truth.

With good reason.

He was a member of the ruling family. The eldest son. The rightful ruler of the territory.

Esau turned a worried gaze on her when she shivered. She shook her head and then gave her chin a quick jerk toward the nearby lane. His eyes widened, and then he nodded. There was a new maturity about him. The happy-go-lucky smile gone from his face, a gravity in his eyes. He’d aged so much in the past week. Damn Helldrick. At least he was dead and could never hurt them again.

If they survived.

He might be wearing a battlesuit, but Zaxe—and he’d always be Zaxe to her, no matter his real name—had been fighting and traveling, working on little or no sleep for days. He had to be bruised and tired and hungry. Lomar might be older, but he was rested. Not that she thought he’d fight. He was more a politician than a true leader.

The air was hot and stale, the crowd closing in around them. It was eerily quiet, as though all were afraid to speak. She didn’t even want to blink for fear she’d miss something.

“Well, what will it be?” Zaxe stood tall and proud, every inch a warrior with his hands by his sides and his cloak tossed back over his shoulders. There was a stillness surrounding him, a lethal energy. The predator waiting to see what the prey would do before pouncing.

There was no doubt in her mind that he’d win in a fair battle, but Lomar wasn’t exactly known for such virtues. It was well known a bribe could buy you “justice.”

“You would fight an old man?” Lomar dismounted. “That is no way to win a kingdom.”

“Neither is having your brother murdered and assuming it.”

Jamaeh took in the nearby people. Some nodded, others frowned, while still more seemed ready for a good fight. The longer the men continued their staring showdown, the more the tension in the crowd drew tighter, waiting to snap.

“I deny your accusations. Where is your proof?”

People began to mutter.

“You only have your word you didn’t do it. I only have mine that you did.” It was a stalemate, but Lomar was known. Zaxe was a wildcard, a stranger here. “If you’re afraid to fight, have your son take your place.”

“He’s a tough bastard to take a blast like that,” a man off to her right muttered, “and to threaten Lomar.”

“If he is who he says he is, then he’s no bastard. He’s the rightful leader.”

“He’s a foreigner,” the first man reminded him.

Zaxe would sway some but not all. He was an outsider, hadn’t lived here since childhood. He didn’t really know or understand his home. She had faith in him, but many would not. They didn’t know him, didn’t understand the integrity with which he lived. If he made a vow to the people of the Northern Territory, he would keep it or die trying.

“I’ll even leave the battlesuit off.” For the second time, he removed the cloak and shirt before peeling the protective

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024