Page 6 of Retribution
Yet Merokk appeared displeased by the news he’d just delivered. In fact, worry glinted in his dark gaze.
“I suspect the Custom of Retribution will be followed, as it normally is in cases like this,however, until a judge officially grants you retribution rights, this female will remain in my home and under my protection.”
Fury blazed through Zamek. What could possess Ambassador Merokk to protect the human wife of Shessema’s murderer? He tossed his glass against the wall and the strong scent of liquor permeated the room. “What is your meaning here? Give me one reason why I shouldn’t drive a sword through your heart and then retrieve this human female from your home myself?”
“I know you are angry and grieving, old friend, but you mustn’t act in haste, and I ask you to hear me out. Layla Remington—the human wife of Michael Dennis—is a close friend of my wife’s. During the last year, I have come to know Layla as a respectable female.”
Zamek shook his head and snorted. “So, you expect me to spare Layla’s life just because she is friends with Fiona? How can you come to my home, on the very day of my wife’s death, and make such a request? If you were in my position, I believe you wouldn’t hesitate to seek your own justice.”
“I am deeply sorry for what happened to Shessema. Truly, I am. But killing an innocent female, human or otherwise, is not true justice. The Custom of Retribution is an outdated law that ought to be overturned.”
Dark suspicion swept through Zamek. Fists clenched at his sides, he stepped closer to Merokk, posturing himself as if ready to fight. Shessema was gone. A human man had murdered her—a human man who’d likely been in league with the rebels—and Merokk had the nerve to beg for the life of this human man’s wife? A low growl rumbled from Zamek’s throat as his muscles tensed. A haze of red clouded his vision.
“Innocent? You think this Layla female is innocent? She likely knew her husband was involved with the rebels, and that knowledge makes her as good as an accomplice.”
“On my honor as a Kall warrior, General Zamek, I swear to you that Layla is an innocent soul. While I didn’t know Shessema well, I doubt she would wish for you to slake your bloodlust on a blameless female. Layla is terrified at this moment and she’s expressed remorse over your wife’s death. Though she doesn’t know you, she is saddened by your loss and she is also horrified by her late husband’s actions.”
“Get out,” Zamek hissed. “Get out before I cut you down where you stand.”
Merokk released a long breath and finally turned to face the door. He took a few steps away before pausing. Turning to meet Zamek’s gaze, he appeared as if he wished to say more, but he eventually proceeded out into the corridor. A short time later, Zamek heard the slamming of the front door.
Shessema. Her name kept repeating in his mind and the heaviness of his sorrow pushed him to his knees. His lungs constricted to the point that each breath became painful and difficult. A crushing darkness fell over him. His entire body trembled.
No no no. It can’t be true.
He closed his eyes, willing this whole day to be a nightmare. But when he opened his eyes, he was still there, crouched on the floor, all alone in his home. All alone because Shessema wasn’t here, and she wasn’t coming back.
He spotted a book she’d been reading, sitting on a side table. He rose to his feet and approached the book, his fingers tingling with the need to touch it. He picked it up and realized it was a book of classic Kall poetry, written ages ago by a renowned Holy One. A tome filled with flowery words and hopeful phrases. His throat burned as he flipped through the book, discovering that the corners of some pages were folded over.
He traced the words on each earmarked page, desperately trying to preserve the most recent memories of his beloved wife. But as his thumb moved across the words, he felt as though the very essence of Shessema was slipping through his fingers like sand.
Placing the book aside, he stormed through the house and into his study, where he kept his battleplans, weapons, and spare armor and warrior uniforms. He perused the weapons one by one, picking them up and imagining each as his tool for vengeance.
Perhaps he would use his sword or his battle-ax or maybe a long dagger.
He breathed long and deep, focusing on his bloodlust, because when he gave himself over to the anger and his unwavering desire for revenge, it served as a distraction and eased the sharpness of his grief. It gave him a purpose.
But perhaps it would be a mistake to kill the human female called Layla too quickly. Perhaps he would keep her alive for a few days, torturing her slowly before finally inflicting her with a fatal wound.
He grabbed his favorite sword and began to methodically sharpen the blade.
Chapter 3
Three months later…
A senseof doom settled upon Layla as she peered around the Kall courtroom. How Ambassador Merokk had managed to have her hearing postponed for three full months, she still didn’t know, but she doubted the delay would make a difference. From her studies of Kall culture, she knew without question what would happen today. A shudder passed through her and she blinked against the burn of tears.
Hopeless. She felt utterly hopeless, and so very afraid.
Kall warriors started filing into the courtroom, as well as some human reporters. She turned around to scan the growing crowd. Merokk caught her eye and shot her a comforting look from where he was seated behind her. She tried to return his smile, but her lips ended up quivering and a few tears escaped to roll down her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away.
She turned back around to find the judge had taken his seat. Her stomach tightened with fear. It was Judge Commak—the same elderly judge who’d sentenced Betsy to a lifetime of slavery on the Kall homeworld. His blue eyes gleamed with malice and she quickly looked away.
From what she could tell, General Zamek hadn’t arrived yet. There was a seat near the judge that remained empty, and she thought it must be meant for him. She’d never actually attended a Ruling for Retribution before, but she knew the grieving party sat near the judge.
Two Kall warriors bustled past her carrying a rolled up white tarp. She watched them begin to unroll it and horror clutched her. They were placing a huge tarp on the floor to contain the mess of her execution—if General Zamek decided to kill her on the spot after the judge’s ruling.
“It’s all right, Layla,” Merokk murmured. “He’s had three moon cycles to come to his senses. I’ve known the general for years and I believe he is a fair male. He won’t kill you.”
