Stormseer (Storms in Amethir Book 3) Read Online Free
Author: Stephanie A. Cain
open but silent. Razem stared at his father, wondering why Emran Kho wasn't here. What would Kho do if Hawk came back to the Tamnese army? Kho had been his commander, but everyone had known it was Hawk who directed the movements of the soldiers, Hawk who was the truly brilliant strategist.
The silence dragged on so long it was becoming uncomfortable. Razem could see that Lady Tel wished to speak, but she only stared at the king. Lord Belnat was gnawing on his lower lip with such fervor that Razem wondered if it would be bloody when he left the council chambers. Lord Birona's shrewd gaze was turned, not on Marsede, but on Razem.
Razem cleared his throat and stood again. "At what price?" he bit out.
Marsede met his gaze. "We are returning their Duke Oler."
"The Deranged Duke!" Razem burst out. "Father, have you gone mad? Duke Oler slaughtered women and children! He put the aged to the sword and spared no nursing mother! How can you--"
"Because he has no health left to him, and we would let him die in his homeland," Marsede interrupted. "He is a frail old man himself, now, and I will take any advantage I have that might yield me a temporary truce. If they will give us our Hawk in exchange for their dying Duke, I will take that trade."
"Damn you," Razem growled. "You are not the father I thought I had."
"And you are not the son I would wish for!" Marsede snapped. "But you will go to Salishok, and you will exchange their damned duke for our war hero Jacin Hawk, and that is final!" He slapped his palm against the wooden table with a crack that made Lord Belnat jump.
Razem drew himself up until he felt as if his spine were a sword. His gaze locked with his father's and his heart begin pounding in his chest. But he had never seen his father so implacable before. Even when he sent Azmei off to the highest bidder in Amethir, he had been apologetic rather than authoritarian. Today there was a light in his golden eyes that made them seem as if they could burn right through Razem. He dared no further protest.
"I will serve as I am ordered," he gritted out, "but I will not like it."
"I do not ask you to." Marsede's gaze was steely. "Bring Jacin Hawk home in one piece. Shower him with all honor and glory. Give him every courtesy. Flaunt him as a hero in Salishok and every city and village and hamlet between there and Tamnen City." He drew himself up to his full height. "And when you have done that, you may beg my forgiveness and all may yet be well."
Razem could feel his teeth cutting into his lips, but he refused to show his father any expression besides defiance. Who, he wondered, would tell Lord Arisanat? It wouldn't be Razem, that much he would swear to. "If that is all," he said.
Marsede made him wait for an answer. He looked around at the group of nobles shifting in their seats and refusing to meet anyone's gaze. He lowered himself into his seat and tapped his fingers on the carved wooden arm. Finally, when Razem thought he would burst, Marsede said, "The lord-general will accompany you. Speak to General Kho about your escort."
Razem forced himself to bow, his gaze never leaving Marsede's face. He left the council chambers without looking at any of the other members of the king's council. He hoped he could eventually forget everyone who had witnessed this confrontation. He wouldn't like to hold it against them for being present when his father provoked the argument.
As he strode through the vast stone corridors of the palace, he considered and discarded a dozen things he should have said to his father in response to his cowardly pacifism. Nothing was sufficient to convey the depth of his rage, though. No words could capture the gut-twisting hatred he felt for the Strid. He wanted to march all the way to the Strid capital and raze it. He wanted to leave nothing but a path of ashes from the border of their kingdoms to the lavish palace where Prince Anderlin lived his depraved, debauched life.
"You could set the building
The silence dragged on so long it was becoming uncomfortable. Razem could see that Lady Tel wished to speak, but she only stared at the king. Lord Belnat was gnawing on his lower lip with such fervor that Razem wondered if it would be bloody when he left the council chambers. Lord Birona's shrewd gaze was turned, not on Marsede, but on Razem.
Razem cleared his throat and stood again. "At what price?" he bit out.
Marsede met his gaze. "We are returning their Duke Oler."
"The Deranged Duke!" Razem burst out. "Father, have you gone mad? Duke Oler slaughtered women and children! He put the aged to the sword and spared no nursing mother! How can you--"
"Because he has no health left to him, and we would let him die in his homeland," Marsede interrupted. "He is a frail old man himself, now, and I will take any advantage I have that might yield me a temporary truce. If they will give us our Hawk in exchange for their dying Duke, I will take that trade."
"Damn you," Razem growled. "You are not the father I thought I had."
"And you are not the son I would wish for!" Marsede snapped. "But you will go to Salishok, and you will exchange their damned duke for our war hero Jacin Hawk, and that is final!" He slapped his palm against the wooden table with a crack that made Lord Belnat jump.
Razem drew himself up until he felt as if his spine were a sword. His gaze locked with his father's and his heart begin pounding in his chest. But he had never seen his father so implacable before. Even when he sent Azmei off to the highest bidder in Amethir, he had been apologetic rather than authoritarian. Today there was a light in his golden eyes that made them seem as if they could burn right through Razem. He dared no further protest.
"I will serve as I am ordered," he gritted out, "but I will not like it."
"I do not ask you to." Marsede's gaze was steely. "Bring Jacin Hawk home in one piece. Shower him with all honor and glory. Give him every courtesy. Flaunt him as a hero in Salishok and every city and village and hamlet between there and Tamnen City." He drew himself up to his full height. "And when you have done that, you may beg my forgiveness and all may yet be well."
Razem could feel his teeth cutting into his lips, but he refused to show his father any expression besides defiance. Who, he wondered, would tell Lord Arisanat? It wouldn't be Razem, that much he would swear to. "If that is all," he said.
Marsede made him wait for an answer. He looked around at the group of nobles shifting in their seats and refusing to meet anyone's gaze. He lowered himself into his seat and tapped his fingers on the carved wooden arm. Finally, when Razem thought he would burst, Marsede said, "The lord-general will accompany you. Speak to General Kho about your escort."
Razem forced himself to bow, his gaze never leaving Marsede's face. He left the council chambers without looking at any of the other members of the king's council. He hoped he could eventually forget everyone who had witnessed this confrontation. He wouldn't like to hold it against them for being present when his father provoked the argument.
As he strode through the vast stone corridors of the palace, he considered and discarded a dozen things he should have said to his father in response to his cowardly pacifism. Nothing was sufficient to convey the depth of his rage, though. No words could capture the gut-twisting hatred he felt for the Strid. He wanted to march all the way to the Strid capital and raze it. He wanted to leave nothing but a path of ashes from the border of their kingdoms to the lavish palace where Prince Anderlin lived his depraved, debauched life.
"You could set the building
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