13

The Meeting

The  man’s  face  contorted  and  he  barked  a  warning  to  his

companions. Treylen pulled himself up, but the soldier still loomed a head taller than him. He reached behind his back and drew the dagger halfway from the sheath so it flashed in the lamp light. He put the other hand across his chest as he bowed slightly.

The two armored men bared their swords.

“Stand down soldiers. I serve Queen Olysya Rewenis Ivera. State your business here.”

“Assassin?” The first man raised a hand and his companions lowered their weapons. He bowed at the waist. The accent was thick and unlike any Treylen had heard. How strange, he thought, that Iverna had more in common with the Jaul than with these Ketaresk allies. But why would allies be hiding in the mountains?

“That’s right,” Treylen answered, giving as pleasant a smile as he could.

He pushed
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