Priestess

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Ara awoke with a start to the familiar sounds of a sword fight. Flinging off her covers, she fumbled in the dark for her sword. She jerked it free of its sheath and ran for the door. But, a dark shadow shot forth, blocking her. “Lodan, move!”

“You are not going out there until it is safe. Let the others deal with it.”

With an unladylike snort, she dove beneath him and jerked open the door. But it was already over. In the dim light, she could make out the outlines of those she knew holding someone at sword point.

“Ara, light a candle. Mine was knocked over.” Coen’s voice.

Lodan touched her side. “My night vision is much better than yours. I shall guide you.”

She rested her hand on his shoulder and he led her to the nightstand. “Thank you.”

“I have not forgotten your little maneuver.”

She didn’t respond as her fingers fumbled for a candle. She lit it in the fire’s smoldering coals. Covering the fragile flame with her hand, she padded softly back to the others.

Coen was fully armed and fully clothed. The others were in various state of undress. The man they held wore a dark cloth over his face, his eyes glittering through slits in the fabric.

“Ara stay behind me,” Coen ordered. Fighting the urge to argue, she did as she was told. Ara felt Coen’s Fragment reaching toward the Assassin. His voice became as thick and heavy as honey.

A part of her couldn’t help but listen, eager for an order. Another part of her recognized his use of Compulsion and cringed.

“You will not harm anyone. Keeping your hands up, you will move very, very slowly towards this chair. Sit down. We’ll bind you. You will stay relaxed and calm. You have no wish to hurt any of us.”

The masked man nodded eagerly. Keeping his hands up, he inched towards the chair. When he was seated, the others held their weapons over the man’s throat. If he moved in any direction, he’d be skewered.

While Ara lit more candles and restarted the fire, Coen bound him and removed two daggers. Gripping the back of the chair, he dragged him inside Ara’s room. Only then did he withdraw his Fragment and jerk off the cloth hood.

Even in the candlelight, she could make out the fiery red hair and freckles.

Coen stumbled back, his face losing its color. “Folt?”

Coen’s personal guard—the same one she’d clobbered when she’d stormed Coen’s office. He had such an innocent, boyish appearance. Not at all the way she’d expected a covert Assassin to appear.

Coen closed his eyes as if he were in pain. “Why?”

Folt stared at the floor. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, “They took my family, all of them. They’re slaves at Torqu. The Assassins agreed to release them, if I killed her.” He gestured to Ara with a jerk of his head. “If anyone else, anyone, had been protecting her, I would’ve succeeded.”

Ara suddenly realized that Coen had been personally guarding her door. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Pleased and embarrassed and burdensome all at once.

Bomin puffed out his chest. Even with knitted socks disappearing beneath his ankle length nightshirt, he managed to appear frighteningly fierce. “I say we kill him.”

Wearing nothing but his trousers, Tenan nodded. “I agree with the Miner.”

The two shot approving glances at one another.