guardian. I am a peacemaker.”
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
“You keep speaking of this pain in your backside. Perhaps you should seek a healer.”
His frustrated snarl echoed in the pollen-rich air. He cursed Myla with every grumbling step to retrieve his dagger. Raking his fingers through his hair, he glared at Salome and added a mumbled curse for her, too.
He needed a female as a companion like a hole in his boot. Every drop of blood in his body craved vengeance and she was bent on serving him peace like a spoonful of medicine. There wasn’t a sugar sweet enough to make him swallow that elixir. The only thing that could cure his rage was Karok’s death. Salome would not distract him from that mission.
Several deep cooling breaths filled his lungs and blew through determined lips. He had not been Taric’s captain for this long and not learned to employ diplomacy when it was warranted. If he didn’t do something to find a level of truce between them, he’d go mad before the sun set.
When calm returned, he strode back, picked up Jester’s reins and resumed walking. She fell in step with him.
“So the magic realm holds guardians and peacemakers. Are there other…areas of expertise?”
“I suppose there may be. I only know of myself. Even now, the memory of my realm dims with each breath I draw. But the call was very strong. It intrigued me and I came.”
“Why? What intrigued you?”
A tiny cluster of pink flowers grew low to the ground and she stooped to pluck one. The bloom was wild, vivid and bright in the golden sun—and no bigger than the nail of her smallest finger. He’d never have noticed them if she hadn’t plucked one from the earth.
She pressed it to her nose with a gentle smile then dragged it across her bottom lip. He refocused his attention to the overgrown path ahead of him.
“The words, the charm certainly, but still, I nearly returned without agreeing to this duty.”
“What changed your mind?”
“You.” The little flower fluttered on the wind as she tossed it away. “Part of the incantation held a bit of your hair. Your mark, your essence, still lived in that braid. It…You are a very complicated man with many layers and depth. You are a soldier, a man of honor, a son, a father and a friend. So many noble and trustworthy things I could not help but wish to bring you peace.”
Weight blanketed him, oppression from her glorified version of him. He had no clue where such a braid might have come from but he knew for certain it held not one strand of the black that he now carried. That stain went deeper than his scalp, down to his very marrow, and there was nothing noble in it. A stray stone kicked from beneath his foot, striking a stand of grasses with a muted thwap . The soft clop of Jester’s hooves plodded behind him and bees droned from a nearby hive. Spring was flourishing, breathing life and renewed growth all over Eldwyn.
Bryton felt like a dead man.
“If you know that much, then you know there are a lot of ugly things on that list as well.”
“Ugly? There is no ugliness in your soul.”
“I’m the King’s Captain.” At her quizzical brow slant, he sighed. “I vowed to protect him, to stand in his place when death comes. It also makes me his Might and his Law.”
“His Might and his Law?” Salome’s mouth puckered in confusion.
Bryton steeled his face. “I hurt people to get answers. If they break the law, I’m their punishment. I kill, Salome, and not quickly or painlessly.”
“And this brings you pleasure?”
“Pleasure? No. I mean, I don’t enjoy it but it’s part of my duty and I do it well. I’m a good captain in both the noble and not-so-noble parts of the job.”
“But you are no longer a captain.”
He stopped, his knees locking into place and his bones jarring his skin. “Since when?”
“Since you chose this path.” Salome lifted her face to the breeze, smiling at the cloudless sky, oblivious to the verbal knife she’d
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
“You keep speaking of this pain in your backside. Perhaps you should seek a healer.”
His frustrated snarl echoed in the pollen-rich air. He cursed Myla with every grumbling step to retrieve his dagger. Raking his fingers through his hair, he glared at Salome and added a mumbled curse for her, too.
He needed a female as a companion like a hole in his boot. Every drop of blood in his body craved vengeance and she was bent on serving him peace like a spoonful of medicine. There wasn’t a sugar sweet enough to make him swallow that elixir. The only thing that could cure his rage was Karok’s death. Salome would not distract him from that mission.
Several deep cooling breaths filled his lungs and blew through determined lips. He had not been Taric’s captain for this long and not learned to employ diplomacy when it was warranted. If he didn’t do something to find a level of truce between them, he’d go mad before the sun set.
When calm returned, he strode back, picked up Jester’s reins and resumed walking. She fell in step with him.
“So the magic realm holds guardians and peacemakers. Are there other…areas of expertise?”
“I suppose there may be. I only know of myself. Even now, the memory of my realm dims with each breath I draw. But the call was very strong. It intrigued me and I came.”
“Why? What intrigued you?”
A tiny cluster of pink flowers grew low to the ground and she stooped to pluck one. The bloom was wild, vivid and bright in the golden sun—and no bigger than the nail of her smallest finger. He’d never have noticed them if she hadn’t plucked one from the earth.
She pressed it to her nose with a gentle smile then dragged it across her bottom lip. He refocused his attention to the overgrown path ahead of him.
“The words, the charm certainly, but still, I nearly returned without agreeing to this duty.”
“What changed your mind?”
“You.” The little flower fluttered on the wind as she tossed it away. “Part of the incantation held a bit of your hair. Your mark, your essence, still lived in that braid. It…You are a very complicated man with many layers and depth. You are a soldier, a man of honor, a son, a father and a friend. So many noble and trustworthy things I could not help but wish to bring you peace.”
Weight blanketed him, oppression from her glorified version of him. He had no clue where such a braid might have come from but he knew for certain it held not one strand of the black that he now carried. That stain went deeper than his scalp, down to his very marrow, and there was nothing noble in it. A stray stone kicked from beneath his foot, striking a stand of grasses with a muted thwap . The soft clop of Jester’s hooves plodded behind him and bees droned from a nearby hive. Spring was flourishing, breathing life and renewed growth all over Eldwyn.
Bryton felt like a dead man.
“If you know that much, then you know there are a lot of ugly things on that list as well.”
“Ugly? There is no ugliness in your soul.”
“I’m the King’s Captain.” At her quizzical brow slant, he sighed. “I vowed to protect him, to stand in his place when death comes. It also makes me his Might and his Law.”
“His Might and his Law?” Salome’s mouth puckered in confusion.
Bryton steeled his face. “I hurt people to get answers. If they break the law, I’m their punishment. I kill, Salome, and not quickly or painlessly.”
“And this brings you pleasure?”
“Pleasure? No. I mean, I don’t enjoy it but it’s part of my duty and I do it well. I’m a good captain in both the noble and not-so-noble parts of the job.”
“But you are no longer a captain.”
He stopped, his knees locking into place and his bones jarring his skin. “Since when?”
“Since you chose this path.” Salome lifted her face to the breeze, smiling at the cloudless sky, oblivious to the verbal knife she’d
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