A Sinless Betrayal - Cherie Benjamin (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📗

meat being cooked on a stove. I look up at him. He is staring at the fire with his dark eyes as if he's trying to speak to it.

I climb out of his lap to fetch myself a glass of wine. He stands abruptly from his seat and darts out of the room and down the hallway. My brows furrow together as I take my wine glass and peer after him. I decide not to call him. He seemed tense and maybe he's going for a walk to clear his thoughts.

0o0o0o0o

Michelle and I are outside in the snow. Scar is running around like a rabid animal, trying to capture each little snowflake inside of his powerful jaws. The small wolf pup that I'd first seen had grown to a frighteningly large size. But to my wolf, I am like the alpha female—his mother.

Michelle is about six months pregnant whereas I am four and barely showing. I take a peach, one grown in the indoor garden in the castle, and break it in half, dropping the pit into the snow. I give the other half of the peach to Michelle, who takes it and greedily stuffs it into her mouth.

I'm freezing out here, but I love to watch the snow. My heavy animal skin cloak draped over a warm cotton dress. I even wear cow leather boots to warm my feet. My ring is on my finger and my crown is on my head. Standing next to Michelle makes me feel different. She is my friend, and we have both come so far from somewhat wealth to endless riches.

Scar brings back a small rodent and sits at my feet, beginning to pull it apart and eat it up. I put the peach to my lips and bite into the sweet flesh of the fruit, tasting juice pour into my mouth. It makes my fingers and lips sticky.

"How are you feeling?" I ask Michelle when I notice that she's holding her stomach. She brings my hand closer to feel her child kick her stomach. The outline of a tiny foot presses against her sheer dress.

"The baby's been quite active and demanding," she confesses. "I can't seem to stop eating." She points at the other half of the peach that I'm holding in my hand. "Are you finished with that?" I hand her the peach and she downs it almost instantly.

I can't help but laugh at the starved look in her eyes. "If you're still hungry, you can ask Scar if he wants to share." We both look at the young wolf, whose head pricked up at the mention of his name. Rodent blood is on his white muzzle and the gory sight makes us both shiver.

"No thank you," Michelle replies to me, grimacing. "I actually don't think I'm hungry anymore. That gory mess of a rat isn't too appetizing to me."

From behind us, a young servant boy scuttles out into the snow with scraps of leftover food to feed the wild wolves lurking in the forests beyond. The Hausa people feel strongly connected to the wolf and serve them like they are their makers. After all, legend tells of them being descended from wolves.

Scar watches him as he bounds out into the open snow with the bucket of scraps in his hand. A half eaten chicken leg falls out of the bucket and he scurries after it with an open mouth, laying down in the snow to devour and chew on it. We watch the boy trudging through light snowfall, bringing the bucket closer to the forest's edge.

Michelle and I turn back to each other. "It's getting rather chilly. We ought to head back inside before we catch a cold," I say to her, stuffing my hands under my armpits to warm my numbed fingers.

She's about to agree when we hear an ear-splitting scream echo in the distance. Our heads whip towards the woods, where the young servant boy stumbles around with an arrow protruding from his back. He's trying to run, but the arrow's preventing him from doing so.

Scar stands up on all four legs and begins to growl. Michelle and I are so stunned that we don't move, we don't say anything. He begins to run towards us, but another arrow whizzes out of the forest and spears him right through the heart. He coughs up blood before planting face first in the snow.

Michelle screams and tears stream down her face as she panics upon seeing the boy die. I clamp a hand over her mouth and we both run into the door behind us. Her hysterical crying eventually attracts the attention of many servants and even Drinks of Waterfall. He picks up his wife and cradles her in his arms, whispering soothing words into her ear in his native language.

Abigor comes around the corner with his eyes ablaze. "Eliza! What's going on?" he asks me. My eyes are watery with tears and my heart pounds faster than a horse can run. I've never been so shaken in all my life.

I point a shaky finger at the door we'd rushed in at. "At…attack," I manage to get out. "A servant boy went out to throw away the scraps and he was shot with arrows right in front of our eyes!"

Abigor's eyebrows furrow immediately as he pushes me behind him and opens the door. There, Scar sits growling in the snow, covered in blood. I gasp. He must be hurt. But then as we look further, there's a man lying dead in the snow, mauled pretty badly.

I realize that it's not Scar's blood in which the wolf's covered in; it's the man's. Abigor bends down to look at the seal on his armour and growls loudly. "Bellechester," he spits. "Fuck. Fuck! Get inside. Now."

I usher Scar inside and the white animal clings to my side. He still growls, but when I pet his head he licks my fingers, smearing blood onto my fingertips. I cringe. Abigor's gone to his quarters with his men to discuss things and I'm completely alone in the hallway except for a small maid that looks to be about fourteen years old.

She offers me a tissue to wipe the blood off of my fingers. I thank her silently and make my way down the hall.

0o0o0o0o

ABIGOR'S POV

"I want fifty men patrolling the forests tonight," I growl at my brother in the Strategy and Tactics room. "I can't believe the guard let that motherfucker slip past and kill one of the servant boys. There has to be more. One Bellechesterman isn't foolish enough just to cross into barbarian territory without a reason to risk his head."

Iron Coyote gives a list to one of the servant boys in the room and the kid runs out faster than lightning to assemble the search troops. "Maybe it's a trap," he says to me. "I've seen things like this before, little brother. He could have been the bait, provoking the big fish into shallow, dangerous waters. I don't want to send the troops out unless you're sure. Are you?"

I rub my hand over the stubble forming on my chin and lips. "Then what do you suggest?" I ask him with a growl because I'm not sure. I'm not really sure at all, but I'm sure that my kingdom needs to be safe and out of harm. I'm really not in the mood for his 'I know more than you do because I'm older and better and should have had the crown' shit.

He walks around the table to Ivona, who sits curled up in the chair. I'd protested her presence but my brother wanted her there more than I was willing to argue over. He takes a draw from his pipe, smoke tumbling from his lips. "Guerilla. Warfare." He says the two words like they're gold on his tongue. "I say we disguise the men to hide in the brush and wait for soldiers to come by, or wait until they see the fire from camp."

"What brush?" I question. "It's winter. Everything's gone except sticks and trees and snow."

Iron Coyote rolls his eyes. "Then they'll wear the white coats. Stop worrying so much about this. You're being petulant—"

"Petulant?" I want to hang him by his long hair and let his scalp slowly peel off to see if he had any brain at all. "Do you remember what happened in the last war? Our father died! He died, you fucking pathetic shit!"

My brother grabs me by the necklace around my neck. "Don't you think I know that?" he growls at me. "And maybe I'm wishing you'll die too so I can finally get what I deserve."

I rear back and punch him square in the face. He hits the ground hard. I see red; I'm like a bull charging at an enemy. Ivona screams when she sees the blood pour from Iron Coyote's nose. I shoot her a wild look that immediately shuts her up.

"I should kill you," I growl deep in my chest. How fucking dare he start this when the enemy's practically on our doorstep! I can't believe he such a thing to me. He wishes I'd die? I'd always known it was in the back of his mind but to say it out loud was uncalled for, and dare I say it? Hurtful.

He spits out the blood from his mouth and wipes the excess on the back of his hand while struggling to stand up. He laughs darkly. "What's holding you back?" he points to the dagger on the belt attached to my breechcloth.

"But I won't kill you," I finish. "I'll let someone else do the honours. I hope you ride into battle with your head held so fucking high that the enemy's sword chops it off. I hope that they take your head back to their kingdom, mount it on a fucking post, and dance and chant around it, saying that they just killed the prince of the barbarians. Hell, I'd dance with them!"

Ivona dabs at my brother's nose with a tissue. He bats her away like she's a pesky fly. "No. I know what's holding you back. You're afraid you'd lose and I'd get the crown, and make every product of your nightmares come true. You're afraid that I'd be greater than you, and hmm…maybe I'd even take your bitch too."

I pounce on him again, enraged by his comments. I beat the hell out of him, watching his head snap back and forth. He's not fighting me on purpose. "Yes…" he mumbles. "Each hit takes me one step closer to the crown."

I beat him one last time, finally knocking him into unconsciousness. I stand up, my body shaking. I see my older brother's crippled body and I spit on him, disgusted by his presence on my floors. I don't have time for this shit.

My body is still shaking uncontrollably. My skin heats up like a fire, smoke rolling off of my biceps. This sort of thing has been happening more and more often, and it scares me to know that something might be wrong with me. I'm sick, and the anger that builds inside of me each and every day is just fueling that fire.

I make my way down the hall to Three Horses, who is sending out the troops now. Normally I would send my brother to take care of this, but since that bastard's lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, I have to. Three Horses looks up at me and nods in acknowledgement.

"I just sent fifty men into the Forest of Thieves to take care of business. They'll look until dark and then the midnight guard will keep watch until sunrise." Three Horses tells me, leaning against the wall. "Do you know where your brother is? I have to discuss a few things with him."

I can feel myself heat up again. I stand against the cool wall to breath the freezing air in through my pores. "He's lying in a puddle right now. Anything