Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) by Jonathan Michael (ereader that reads to you txt) 📗

the man in a fortnight, nor has any of his company. I refrain from keeping him in my pocket during this overextended time of peace, so I thought possibly a short hiatus. But to do so without any word—it has been too long. I’ve interrogated his captains, all those closest to him, which is few, and several of his subordinates. The man disappeared without a trace.”

Silence blankets the chamber. Patience. Give it a moment. One of these buffoons will start rambling his mouth, trying to pin the blame on the innocent. What it would be like to share the company of those who adore facts, as I do. These men are all so quick to judge. All men are.

“Have you talked with his kin? That’s the first place—” Nigel begins.

“No!” Shambrock replies forcefully. He rolls his eyes and continues in a more diluted tone. “The General doesn’t have family or friends. His duty is his life. I would not have brought this up if I hadn’t explored the necessary avenues prior to. I’m not as incompetent as some in this room.”

“What are you insinuating now, Shambrock? That I am behind the disappearance of Foster Greyson too? I’ll have your head on a spike if there are more empty accusations.” Although Nigel was the one with the senseless question, Kell takes it as a stab at his own competence.

“Well…” Shambrock responds. “…that’s not what I was insinuating, but maybe I ought to be. My tongue was directed toward Nigel and the dimwitted comments he involuntarily throws at us, but since you readily admit it, then maybe we ought to incarcerate you now.”

“Alright, alright. Enough! Quiet, the both of you,” Leonard interjects. “We all understand the two of you should never be left alone in a room together, and we accept that. But you’re both competent at what you do and are dedicated to your realm, which is why you were voted into your positions. Let’s put a halt on the blasphemy so we can be constructive. Please.”

The day will come soon enough when I can rid myself of these buffoons, but first things first, I must find Jaymes McLarin.

“Leonard is right,” I agree. “The two of you are off course. Shambrock. If General Greyson doesn’t surface soon, you will need to appoint a new general. You will bring the names of the top candidates to our next assemblage. As for the General’s son, he is of little concern to us. His person has been a subject of the McLarin search, and right in line with the other two, there has been no sign of his whereabouts. He is likely deceased. We will get to the bottom of the missing Dihkai soon enough. Now, are there anymore topics of urgency, or shall we move our agenda to the cause of this assemblage?”

I desired a unanimous move, but without surprise, one by one they each bring up concerns of their own, concerns of the people, and so forth. No doubt, each topic is worth discussing because it hinders them personally in some way or another. Egotistical bastards. They aren’t deserving of their roles. But, honestly, what man is?

Uninterested in their petty talk, I take the liberty of securing the neglected decanter in the center of the table. I relish in the liquid satisfaction as it drains down my throat. The savory burn of the aged scotch nearly drowns out their bickering, but one glass isn’t enough. Politely with the pincers, I place three fresh cubes of ice in my tumbler then fill it to the brim.

Shambrock had no further topics of discussion. His only concern was of his missing general, which I tactically brushed to the side.

Nigel, being the voice of the people, has the most to discuss. He always does. He voices various concerns and disputes between businessmen and landowners regarding fraudulent barters causing a disturbance amidst the daily commerce. Petty and unimportant. Next, he embellishes the consensus of the citizens of Vedora, primarily in the capital itself, feel the Tyrant Lord ruling over them needs to release his grasp and allow more freedom to pursue happiness and knowledge. Unimportant. Could lead to a rebellion, however. I’ll have to reinforce the patrols of the Crimson Guard. Maybe plot a rebellion of my own to squander. Nigel then continues with a topic regarding a group of investors providing fatality insurance to the citizens. And it is feverishly gaining popularity amongst the Dihkai. That one has Nigel’s name written all over it. If this isn’t a lead to the perpetrator of the missing Dihkai, then Nigel is lining his pockets with the deaths of the unfortunate. I will dissipate his errant arrangements soon enough.

I tilt my tumbler back and pour the remnants down my throat. I refill the glass as Leonard starts in on his trivial issues.

Last Spring, several hundred citizens were strong-armed into the construction of a rail system that promised easy transportation from one township to the next, utilizing a system of tracks and carriages. Prior to the startup of the project, the public was addressed about this grand form of transportation in several different assemblies without any progressing interest. Most citizens were wary of the change, but on voting day, somehow it passed. The logical assumption is the primary estates had their hands forced or were lavishly persuaded, who, in turn, would have urged their subordinates into voting for it, causing a chain reaction until there were enough citizens in favor of the costly project. Political agenda truly is another form of bullying. But how else can a democracy make progress?

Nigel and Leonard, the innovators of the project, have great plans for how this will affect the trade routes. From the Crimson Capital down south to the Cerulean Pass, these tracks will have the capacity for many carriages and will cut the journey down to a quarter of the time.

Leonard’s current issue with the rail