The Legend of Asahiel: Book 03 - The Divine Talisman by Eldon Thompson Page B

her sentry’s warding pike, eyeing her urgently.
    “You may admit him, Bearer.”
    “As you will, my lady.”
    A moment later, she bolted the door and asked the question to which she feared an answer. “What has happened?”
    The chief herald shifted nervously. “Forgive me, my lady, I thought…I mean I—”
    “Pagus, look at me. Is Allion all right?”
    “Master Allion is fine, my lady, or was when I left him. But…”
    “But what? What have you come to tell me?”
    He met her gaze at last. “Elder Thaddreus, my lady. He came to me justa few short hours ago, was waiting for me in my chambers, actually. He asked…My lady, he asked about the Sword. He wished to know if Master Allion had taken it.”
    She glanced again to where the weapon hung in the adjacent chamber. Pagus’s eyes followed. “I see. And what did you tell him?”
    “I lied, my lady. I told him that it was with Master Allion. He expressed concern that the blade be kept safe. But I…” His eyes fell.
    “Tell me, Pagus.”
    “I believe he is up to something, my lady. I cannot say why, but I have a terrible feeling. It was the way he looked at me. He wanted so badly to know where it was—the Sword, I mean. He claims Rogun will try to take it, but I’m not sure that is the sole reason for his interest.”
    He stared at her for a moment, then looked to his feet as if feeling suddenly foolish.
    “I’m sorry, my lady. I should not have disturbed your rest. But I couldn’t sleep. I thought you should—”
    “You were right to tell me, Pagus,” she said, cupping his chin with her hand. “We’ve no one but ourselves to count on. While the speaker’s concern for the Sword comes as no surprise, it troubles me that he should try to use you so.” She smiled reassuringly. “Go now. Get some sleep. Let me worry about the speaker and any others who may take an interest in what does not belong to them.”
    The boy nodded uncertainly. “Yes, my lady.”
    She ushered him toward the door and drew back the bolt. “Off to bed, then.”
    She had only barely cracked the portal ajar when it flew inward, smacking Pagus in the chin and sending him sprawling back into her. A stream of bodies came pouring through, clad in armor and with weapons drawn. No sooner had she landed on her back than the tip of a sword was leveled at her throat.
    She glared at her assailant—a city guardsman—then looked to the doorway, where the body of her sentry was being dragged inside by a pair she recognized as City Elders. Blood washed his throat and chest, glistening in the firelight.
    Then Thaddreus entered, closing the door gently behind him.
    Marisha tried to cry for help, but the shifting swordsman smothered her shriek with his gloved hand.
    “If she screams again, kill the boy,” Thaddreus ordered coldly.
    She looked to Pagus, certain she had been betrayed. The young herald, sitting upright with the tip of a pike pressed against the back of his neck, stared back at her with frantic eyes.
    “If he should do so,” Thaddreus added, addressing one of the dagger-wielding Elders, “cut off her feet.”
    Four henchmen in all: the pikeman warding Pagus, the swordsman at her back, the City Elder at her feet—Ashwar, if she wasn’t mistaken—and theother, Emric, who had helped drag her sentry inside. The latter stood beside Thaddreus, her guardsman’s blood upon his dagger.
    “Better still,” Thaddreus decided, “gag them both while I search the chambers.”
    Marisha’s thoughts raced. Fool that she’d been, she’d left the Sword hanging in full view. She had only seconds in which to act before Thaddreus—or perhaps the man who had once been Thaddreus—lay claim.
    The blade at her neck fell away as the swordsman stuffed a rag in her mouth and, with a heavy cord, roped it in place. Now was her chance, but if she were to resist, would she not be sentencing Pagus to death?
    Her gaze shifted back to the boy. Seeing the conflict in her face, he made the decision for