Page 177 of Eldritch
She groaned, a sound Zevander knew as boredom on her part. “Well, then, who told you of this?”
“King Jeret’s advisor. One of them lives.” The soldier kept his answers brief and toneless.
“One of whom?” Zevander interrupted. “Who lives?”
The soldier’s eyes swept over Zevander and back, the pitying look on his face like something one might offer a stray dog. When he tipped his chin up, ignoring his question, Zevander lurched, but was held back by General Loyce’s embrace.
“Who lives?” she echoed.
“One of the mercenaries. He managed to escape.”
“Escape?” She circled the pad of her finger over his nipple, and godsblood, he had to temper the urge to swat her.
“It seems there was a counterattack.”
“From whom?” She kept on with her questioning, while Zevander hung on every word that spilled from the soldier’smouth, desperate to know who might’ve attacked on his family’s behalf.
“The mercenary mentioned spiders. Hundreds of them.”
Spiders. Branimir’s. While they’d never done more than threaten to attack Zevander and his sister, he imagined his brother’s prodozja were capable of utter brutality, if given the opportunity.
“And what of the Rydainns?” It almost seemed as if General Loyce were asking for his benefit, the way she inquired the very questions pummeling his thoughts.
The soldier glanced at Zevander and back again. “I’m afraid I can’t say.”
“Speak what you know.” Zevander lunged for the soldier, but the General’s grip tightened around him again.
“Still yourself, Love,” she ordered and took hold of his throat. A warning. “I will ask the questions,” she whispered in his ear, and turned her attention back to the soldier. “How many mercenaries were sent?”
“A dozen? I can’t be sure.”
“Where is this prisoner now?”
“In the mines, General. I understand the warden has shown him favor.”
“Has he now?” She unraveled her arms from Zevander’s body. “Well, until we know who ordered the attack, I suppose he’ll remain in the warden’s care. You are dismissed.”
The soldier gave a nod and exited the room.
Zevander kicked his head to the side. “Give him to me,” he growled. “Let me kill him.”
She chuckled and climbed off the bed, swiping up a robe crumpled on the edge of it. “Not a plea for your freedom, but a battlecry for vengeance.”
“I’ve no intention of begging for something you’ll never grant me. I have loyally carried out your vengeance and expectednothing in return. I am asking you to deliver him to me. Allow me this one favor.”
“A favor that could cost me my head, if it was the king who ordered your family’s execution.”
“Would he have been sent to the mines for following a king’s orders?” Zevander challenged.
“No.” She sauntered toward the table holding the meat and cheese and poured herself a glass of wine. “He’d have been sent here for failing to comply. Tell me about these spiders.” She sipped the wine, staring at him over the rim of the glass.
“I know nothing of them.” He kept his face expressionless, as he’d been trained.
She lowered the glass, examining him, undoubtedly gauging whether she was still capable of reading him. “Then, I’m afraid I can’t help you. Return to the Gildona. I shall call on you later this evening.” An obvious bluff, but Zevander didn’t have time for her games, and he knew precisely how long she’d have been willing to keep it up.
“They were my brother’s prodosjza.”
Her brows raised. “I was not aware you had a brother. How intriguing.”
