Page 9 of Poisoned Kingdom
‘Oh, you like it rough? Fine, princess, Jagon can have you once I’ve taken my turn and you’ve paid for my broken nose.’ My captor spat blood in my eyes before capturing my hands and pinning them above my head.
‘Let me go, let me fucking go!’ I screamed, attempting to headbutt my assailant, but the other men rushed in, and before I knew it, they had me pinned to the ground, unable to do anything while their hands roamed over my body.
‘Look at this, what a pretty bird. Now I know why Jagon wants her. She’s got the face of an alkonost,2 not to mention a goodpair of tits to go with it,’ said one, grasping the collar of my dress and yanking hard to expose me.
‘Well, he only said to capture her alive. Jagon never said we couldn’t have a bit of fun, and I think we deserve a little something for waiting in the cold,’ answered his companion.
Cold understanding flooded my veins with rage. There was nothing I could do, not without my poisons, and not against four Brotherhood killers. But Jagon wanted me to live, and even these bastards wouldn’t cross the poison master. I stopped thrashing.
‘I won’t forget this,’ I said, deathly calm. ‘One day soon, I’m going to kill you and then dance on your rotting corpses. Your flesh will burn, your bones will melt, your breath will freeze, and you’ll beg me to end your pitiful existence, but I’ll just savour your screams.’ I spat the words out like a curse. The aether shifted around me, power I could barely touch now shocking me with its strength, filling my blood with venom. Vicious green strands curled around my body, lashing like vipers.
My attackers stopped, momentarily glancing at one another in panic. They couldn’t see it, but the most primitive part of their soul sensed the danger.
‘You pathetic pieces of shit,’ I hissed. ‘You think you’ve won? I’ll carve your faces into my memory, and if you so much as touch me, know this—you’ll be fucking your own death.’
‘Shut up! Shut the fuck up!’ shouted the one whose hand rested on my throat. He grabbed a rock and hit my temple, once, twice . . . His hand squeezed harder, black spots dancing in front of my eyes. My vision blurred as I fought to breathe, writhing against his grip.
So, this is how it ends.
Regret dulled my senses, heavier than pain. I’d never feared death—only a life left unfinished. I still had so much to learn, so much to live for, and my power had finally responded. Even if itwas nothing like I’d expected, it was enough. I was more than the Deadly Nightshade . . . except now no one would ever know, and even those I loved would remember me only as a poisoner who had abandoned them.
Veles, God of the Underworld, if I’m to die here, let me return as a wraith. Let me take my vengeance.
Something splashed across my face, hot and sticky, the familiar taste filling my mouth with its metallic tang. A battle roiled around me as darkness pulled at the edges of my mind. The pain vanished, and so did the regret. My killers were killing each other. The dark god had listened to my plea.
Accept my soul, Veles,I prayed as a voice, deep and wrathful, chased me into the void.
‘You’ll take your turn in death.’
1.Svarog/pron S-va-roog/ — god of fire, patron of blacksmiths and metalworkers.
2.Alkonost— a legendary woman-headed bird that has a healing touch, an otherworldly beautiful face, and a mesmerizingly alluring voice capable of making anyone who hears her forget all their sorrows and worries.
Chapter 4
Reynard
Isat on a tree stump, closing my eyes while my men busied themselves setting up the camp in a forest clearing.
‘Careful with that!’ someone shouted, followed by a loud snap. When I glanced over, I saw a soldier unfolding my private coat of arms. It was like the idiotwantedeveryone to know that ‘Reynard Erenhart, War King of Dagome,’ was travelling with a small troop through a foreign kingdom.
I sighed. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, why not add “shoot here?”’ I mumbled to myself.
The soldiers saluted the moment they saw me stalk towards them. ‘Take that down. Unless there’s a reason you’re announcing to everyone who we are?’ I asked with a tight smile,not wishing to face another assassination attempt. My captain rushed in, dressing them down without mercy, and I walked off to find a quiet spot to think.
Mlot’s letter was burning a hole in my pocket. It wasn’t even an official request, just a simple note bearing his private seal, now broken, the paper worn soft from being clenched in my fist too many times. When I first read it, I was sure it was a forgery; there was no sane reason behind such an outrageous command otherwise. Why would he have ordered me to shut down the University of Magic and dissolve both the Court of Aether and the Council of Mages? And his final words . . .
‘They are dangerous to us all. Follow my advice, or I’ll be forced to take action.’
‘What bloody action? What’s gotten into him?’
I wasn’t sure if travelling to Mlot’s kingdom was the smartest idea, but he wouldn’t come to Dagome, and after his men had turned away my ambassadors, I didn’t have a choice.
One thing was certain: being outside felt good. Far from the palace, without the endless yapping of the Royal Council snapping their requests at me, the constant buzz in my head had quietened to a manageable level. Not that I had any trouble controlling my temper, but it was . . . tiring. We’d been travelling for two days already, but I felt more rested than I had in months.
‘Where are you going?’ Riordan asked when I approached my horse.
‘To the river. I’ll wash Kary down and enjoy some peace. I have to plan how to deal with Mlot.’
