King of the Seditious

Savage had to wear Dimurah out enough, she slept despite herself because she was now determined to stay awake.

And prevent me from leaving.

And like the worst kind of rogue, he crept from his own tent without waking her. On one knee beneath the flap, he cast one last look back at her, over his shoulder. Seeing the way the growing light crept in, to catch her hair.

It was easy to remember her framed in crimson wings, splayed out wide as she’d healed the tracker.

To say she was a remarkable woman, wasn’t nearly enough.

She’s tamed a savage. He thought ruefully.

Phalanx caught him at the tent flap, leaving. “Oh, no. You’re not leaving me to explain your absence, like this!”

He sounded distinctly as if he’d had to do that on more than one occasion.

And none too pleased about it.

Savage shot him a quelling look.

Phalanx sighed, understanding Savage was going to do exactly that, his shoulders slumped. “You are…”

I am.

Savage said nothing further to him, as he stood and absentmindedly whistled.

The stable door swung wide, as Delcourt jumped it but caught it slightly with a back hoof. Still clearing it. The big black galloped to him. Turning sideways for Savage to mount.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Phalanx nodded.

Savage hesitated. Not riding off. Which drew Phalanx’s attention. “If I’m not…”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Phalanx’s brows shot up. Concern written over his face.

“If I don’t…”

“I’ll take her to Meadow Mountain, ride straight up it, until I’m stopped. When I am, I tell him who she is to you.”

Savage nodded. Rounding the horse.

Certain that Phalanx knew what to do.

You take her to my father.

***

Late the following afternoon, Savage was high in a tree. Clutching his magic close to his spirit, to keep it from being readily sensed.

Still, he was up there for hours before he saw the gray robes of the demon in the distance.

Radix.

His thin white beard danced in the breeze, hanging from his skeletal frame like some horrible illusion.

Those gray, threadbare, holed robes swinging out in the breeze as he exited his lair.

Finally.

Savage dropped from the tree and knelt where the mud was the densest. Intermingled with noni feces. Scooping handfuls, he lathered himself. Using it to mask his scent.

They won’t smell me coming.

He expertly wound through the first two turns in the cavern. Easily passing Radix’s personal chambers. Having recalled every detail of this maze of caves.

Once my home.

Which had hardly been better than the rat-ridden dungeon he’d known before that.

Just another prison.

The nonis, not so much as sparing him a glance. Sensing he wasn’t so different from them. Perhaps recognizing his presence. For whatever reason, they let him by.

As they always did.

When he rounded the corner to see Chavias’ prison, he found him standing at the bars.

“I see you…” The powerful voice rumbled through the darkness. Making the remaining nonis skitter nervously away.

Still afraid of him.

“I know you do.” Savage grinned. “I missed you.”

“You merely miss killing next to me.” But there was humor in the other man’s voice.

“Nay. I kill plenty on my own.” He corrected. “It’s your company I miss. Perhaps an occasional, well-matched, game of chess.”

“Well-matched?” Chavias asked incredulously. Reaching between the bars to catch the back of Savage’s head.

Savage trustingly, didn’t move away.

Chavias gave it a quick rub. As a father would a son. “Your power is growing, Lad. I felt you coming a good way out. It was likely not wise coming here.”

Savage tipped his head grudgingly. But he immediately cut to the question he’d long been waiting to ask. “Are you ready yet?”

Say, yes, this time. Savage willed him. Tired of so many ’no’s.

“Afraid not, Lad.” Chavias shook his head sadly. Making Savage’s heart sink.

“It fine.” Savage dismissed. Focusing ahead. “I come on another mission tonight.”

“What mission?”

“Have you seen Sebastian’s woman down here, tonight?” Savage asked.

Elsabet.

“No woman worthy of him would be down here!” Chavias declared. Reminding Savage that he wouldn’t know about Elsabet.

Or might not remember.

Chavias had been down in these caves a long, long, time.

“She would. I told her of this lair.” Savage argued. “Told her where to find Radix.”

Chavias’ brow knitted in confusion. The question clear on his face. Though he asked another. “Has he fallen so far?”

Worried Sebastian may be turning toward the darkness, if his mate is willing to wander a demon’s lair.

He doesn’t know Elsabet. Doesn’t know she’s fearless.

And that’s not even when she’s angry.

Which she now was.

Angry isn’t even an appropriate word for what she is.

“Nay.” Savage shook his head. “He has not. She wasn’t so dark before.”

“What does she look like?”

“Beautiful. Petite. Silver haired and filled with grief and fury.”

“I’ve seen that. Friendly as a quiller. Take the left just before the torture rooms.” Chavias said slowly. Cautioning. “It’s her personal chambers. Careful though. She’s gathered a substantial following of Radix’s minions.”

Disappointment washed through Savage. He’d truly hoped she wouldn’t take that course. “I feared that.”

“You’ve reason to.” Chavias said distraughtly. “She commands obedience with a brutal hand. They follow her blindly and she obeys Radix’s bidding.”

Savage cast a thoughtful look back at Chavias.

“She is the Elsabet, I heard spoken of?” Chavias sighed. Sounding almost skeptical.

“She was.”

“How could she not love him?”

No one believes that any woman could reject Sebastian.

“She did.”

“What happened?” Chavias dared ask.

“Radix.”

“Certainly.”

“How could she choose him over Sebastian? What woman would do that?” Chavias was still disbelieving.

“She blames him for their daughter’s death.”

Why him and not Radix is beyond me…

“She died?” Chavias’ grip on the bars became white-knuckled. As he pressed his face against them. “She was tiny but hardy. So much promise in her!”

Savage stepped back. “You saw her?”