The Restorer's Son - Bonus Scene
In which Zarek anticipates sparring with Kieran
After Chapter 25
Zarek:
My sword danced, perfectly balanced
in my grip. The young soldier across from me responded with such a timid thrust
that I barely kept from decapitating him. “Attack me! Stop sniveling.”
He swung with more vigor, but still
kept too much distance to be a threat. How could I ever strengthen my skills
when every sparring partner feared accidentally nicking the king?
My mood darkened, and I advanced on
the boy. One of my generals told me this lieutenant was the best swordsman he’d
seen in years, but so far he’d acted like a skittish lehken colt. Before I
could mount an attack that would force a stronger response, a messenger skidded
to a stop in the doorway of the practice hall.
“Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt, but
you asked for a report . . . ” The skinny boy wrung his hands and shifted from
foot to foot. More sniveling.
I sheathed my sword and waved him
into the room. “It’s all right. We hadn’t begun yet.”
The lieutenant, already covered in a
sheen of sweat, turned a shade paler and wiped his forehead. The messenger took
a few cautious steps into the room.
“The prison guard reports that
Kieran interviewed the woman and she collapsed. The practitioner was summoned,
and she recovered.”
My brows rose. I’d sent Kieran to
question the newest trespassers from Braide Wood, not kill them.
I sighed and sank onto a nearby
bench. “You’re dismissed,” I told the young lieutenant. He gave a stiff bow and
half ran from the room. I turned to the messenger. “Tell the prison chief I
need a more detailed report. Keep me informed. Oh, and tell my aide I want some
orberry wine.”
The messenger scampered off, and
after murmured words outside the door, I enjoyed a few moments of blissful
isolation to think. Had I been wrong to trust Kieran with this small job? Did
he plan to silence the prisoners because they had information he wanted to keep
from me?
Trust was never a wise plan. My
grandfather had been murdered by his most trusted general, who was then killed
by my father when he took the throne. I’d fended off several failed coups since
becoming king. Kept me alert.
Maybe I was slipping.
Though I wouldn’t admit it to
anyone, protecting my position every moment of every day created a deep
loneliness that even a few convenient temple girls couldn’t chase away. My
recent conversations with Kieran were a welcome distraction, and the strange
Verses he recited stirred interest in me that I hadn’t felt in years. He’d had
a chance to kill me and hadn’t taken it. Still, I knew better than to trust
him.
Kieran had been a welcome diversion
and a good Perish opponent, but the things he spoke of had added new
complications to my life. Time to get my focus back on protecting my throne.
Perhaps I would need to interview the new prisoners myself—as if I didn’t have
enough to do with Bezreth pressuring me to reopen the temples, the generals
scheming, and enemies threatening every border.
I
drew my sword and indulged in a few patterns, then reluctantly sheathed it. I
really needed a good session of sparring. A smile stretched my lips. Perhaps
Kieran would be an interesting opponent and far less overcautious than any of
my soldiers. My mood lightened as I left the hall and headed toward my
quarters.
---
You can find more of the story in The Restorer's Son.
Blessings!
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