The Cleansing (Book One: The Folara Chronicles)

044: Rion and Kara

His initial reaction was to withdraw from her familiarity immediately, but he controlled himself and picked at his teeth as if her words had no effect on him. "Respect? You are a spoiled little Princess. What do you know of respect?"

His words stung. Kara's face mottled red, and she sat up straight—her defiance and pride coming to her rescue, replacing the gentle camaraderie they'd developed, and Rion instantly regretted the harsh way he had sounded. He'd wanted to get back at her for calling him arrogant, and he had. Kara's chin was pointed as far away from him as she could get.

For a moment he wanted their light play to continue, it had been utterly unprecedented, and very entertaining. But she was back to her normal distance from him, her mind shield erected, and her eyes turned inward.

"In my culture respect is not offered to women. There is no Queen." Rion observed pebbles she'd lined up while they'd spoken.

"But Quildor believes himself to be a King?"

He picked at his tooth, where a deeper snag had lodged. "Not so much a King. Government is controlled by the Quarso, under the direction of Quildor. I would consider him a military leader."

Kara snorted. "He thought of himself as the King of Etrusia. That is why he wants it back. He started a war to defend his right to it. You are quite delusional. You don't even understand your own government." 

Rion felt the heat of his own annoyance creep up. She was right, even if he could barely admit it. She knew that government depended on more than one man's lust for power. Rion had been born to this life. He knew no other. He'd never questioned it until now. Just the term exile was drilled into him as the greatest of injustices. Worth fighting to rectify. Worth giving his life and his freedom for.

Quildor did not care about those who lived under his protection.

He expected their service and fealty. In return, he had the Quarso to protect them from Shadow Eaters and rogue Salimantors. He offered no government-- only survival. He had Auditorium full of will-less assimilated walking slaves to care for his immediate needs and the needs of his Quarso. He didn't care about the villagers-- they were alive, and they were exiled Etrusians, and when he returned to his rightful place as King of his undersea dome, he would take them with him. 

Or not.

He screwed up his nose in irritation. There was no real government the likes of which he'd read about in their makeshift schools. He knew the people on land were illiterate for the most part--- just surviving. Barely.

What did Quildor actually offer?

"Quildor has the Council Woman, Sebille." Kara had noticed his angry expression.

He shrugged that off in disgust. "He is not married to her, he does not sleep with her. She is his witch."

"Witch!"

"She wields her magic and he uses her."

Kara's face contorted in incredulous rage. "She was a Council Woman!"

"I have no idea what that means."

Kara looked bewildered. "The Council of Ladies." She suggested as if jarring his recalcitrant memory. Rion picked another bone clean and then flung it into the fire, stretching out across from her, leaning up on one elbow.

"Not a term I am familiar with. Are they all witches?"

Kara continued to eye him in disbelief. "The term witch, refers to a misguided attempt to explain and blame unnatural or misunderstood phenomenon on earth. Women, and sometimes men, were blamed for stupid things like illness, and natural disasters."