Questing Sucks! Book II Read Online Free Page A

order to die will be none other than yourself.”
    “We don’t have time for this,” Patrick said. “Sehn, please, just deal with this problem, and then you can ‘punish’ us all later. The Gods know I’d sacrifice my dignity in exchange for having this problem put long behind us.”
    Sehn turned around in his chair and looked at the Champion. It was barely visible beneath the creature’s murderous exterior, but Sehn was positive there was a touch of fear in those dark, catlike eyes of his. It wasn’t the way he stood or the way he gazed at the officials in the war room—he appeared sharp, alert, and his posture was straight—no, it was something else. It was the way his lips, for just a moment, quivered when Sehn regarded him.
    “Champion,” Sehn called to him.
    The Champion kept his back pressed against the wall, and he spoke without moving in his usual, omnipresent whisper. “Yes, master?”
    “Have you been listening to the conversation we’re having about you, minion-fool?”
    “I have.”
    “And?”
    “I await your orders, master.”
    “Well, there you have it,” Duuhard said, a note of cheer in his voice. “It looks like we can all sleep soundly tonight, for we can deprive the Hawk of one of his Items. Go on then, elf, place the order.”
    Sehn ignored the commander. “So, you’ve heard everything we’ve said, have you?”
    “Yes,” the Champion whispered.
    “And yet you have nothing to add?”
    “Are you asking for my opinion?”
    Saerith stood up from his seat and marched in front of Sehn, standing between him and the Champion. “Sehn, just what do you think you’re doing? This thing doesn’t have an opinion. Stop wasting our time and make the command so we can end this.”
    A beam of light from a narrow window in the war-room lit up Saerith’s face, making him look pale and sickly. Or was it his own fear? Sehn wasn’t certain. The Champion, though patient and unmoving, was likely the most frightened in the room, regardless of whatever his stone-face seemed to indicate.
    “Saerith, step aside. I’m asking my minion a question.”
    Saerith’s jaw tightened. “What for? Since when do we concern ourselves with what a mindless killing machine has to say? Gods, Sehn, that thing doesn’t have the ability to form an opinion. It’s an object!”
    “Is that true?” Sehn asked the Champion. Even with his line of sight blocked by Saerith, he could still see the Champion’s broad shoulders.
    “Is what true?” he whispered back.
    “Are you capable of forming an opinion?”
    “I can,” he answered without hesitation.
    Sehn hopped off his seat and brushed Saerith aside. The Elven Prince looked outraged, but Sehn knew it wasn’t because of his slight—by now Saerith must’ve been used to that. No, it was more likely outrage over Sehn’s willingness to communicate with his minion. But why shouldn’t he? It was his minion after all.
    Sehn approached the Champion until he stood only a foot away. “So tell me, then. What is your opinion?”
    No emotion entered the Champion’s catlike eyes as he spoke, yet his voice seemed to grow just a subtle notch softer and take on the slightest hint of a plea.
    “If you’d permit me, master, I would prefer to live.”
    Sehn kicked the Champion in the shin and suppressed a groan. It felt like slamming his foot into a rock. “Then why didn’t you say that at first! Fool, you made me waste almost two minutes of my time dealing with this. From now on, I expect you to speak up when you have an opinion on something.”
    “From now…on?” Saerith whispered. “Sehn, are you implying—”
    “I’m not having him killed,” Sehn declared. “He is valuable to me. Why should I sacrifice a weapon? How else will I terrorize innocent villagers and plunder the lands?”
    At once, the Kingdom officials burst into protest, all except Alan, who merely shrugged at Sehn then circled his finger around his ear, as if to imply everyone was crazy. Sehn