Page 3 of Splintered Shadow
The karu perched on top of a bookshelf ruffled her inky black feathers. She did not like this. Neither did he. Baris had been assigning Vekele tasks—all meaningless—to give him purpose.
Vekele did not need his brother’s pity. He was perfectly content on the isolated country estate, away from court.
Nothing good ever happened in the palace.
“It is a malfunctioning sensor,” Vekele said, handing the tablet back to his brother.
“I would hardly send you to chase after a bit of space dust. Investigate the anomaly.” Baris spoke with an air of authority, as a male who was seldom questioned. Too many people bowed and scraped for Baris’ favor, in Vekele’s opinion. Bootlickers and worse.
Fortunately, Vekele had no difficulties questioning his brother, king of Arcos or not.
“I am no longer a soldier,” he said, waving a hand to crowded shelves and the table piled high with ancient books. After the attack that damaged his eyes and cost him his position in the military, Vekele retreated to the country estate and surrounded himself with tomes of military history. “Who needs one who is half-blind?”
“Exactly, and they say you’re not the smart one,” Baris said.
The karu cawed and clicked, unimpressed by Baris’ wit.
His brother glanced up at the massive bird. His four eyes blinked—two in the front and then the two at the side—in apology.
This appeased the karu. Vekele felt a warm flush of appreciation for his companion. She had always been protective of him. Why she had chosen him, being ancient and powerful, he never understood.
The karu—average size for an adult—on Baris’ shoulders cawed in reply. The tone sounded offended, but whatever the karu felt—offense, annoyance at the lack of deference—Baris kept that to himself.
Baris pushed the tablet to Vekele. “It is unusual. The analysts have failed to identify the energy signature, and I cannot send a ship to investigate.”
“Because of the wedding,” Vekele said.
“Because any military movement would be seen as aggressive and would put a halt to the treaty. We need this treaty,” Baris said.
Politics.
Vekele had no stomach for the intricate webs spun at court. Motives. Plots within plots. Blackmail. Betrayal. Spies.
Spies were vermin, always there, sniffing after crumbs.
He much preferred a straightforward approach. No one would ever accuse the king’s brother of subtlety. Baris had a mind for political maneuvering. Vekele was better suited for the battlefield and perfectly content to follow his king’s orders.
Youwerebetter suited.
Vekele resisted the urge to flinch at his thoughts and kept his expression blank. He loathed pity, especially his own. Pity did nothing. He said, “Sending the king’s brother off on a mission would draw as much attention.”
“Fortunately, the king’s brother is known to be recovering from his injuries. No one will blink twice at a meditative retreat to the temples of Miria.”
“The anomaly is at Miria?”
Interesting. A sacred location, various myths surrounded Miria. Superstitious nonsense, in Vekele’s opinion, but now this anomaly…perhaps the myths had a basis in reality.
“Ah, you are intrigued. It is decided.” Baris nodded at his words. “Take Kenth, my personal ship, and as many guards as Kenth feels are needed. Yes?” Baris directed this question to the female guard lurking just outside the doorway of the library. The head of the royal guard never strayed far from Baris.
“I will handle it,” Kenth said.
Vekele found Kenth to be very capable if lacking in subtlety. There was no such thing as too many weapons or too many guards. “Perhaps only one or two guards,” he suggested. “I am an injured male seeking solitude, after all. Too much security will draw attention.”
Kenth nodded in agreement.
Baris clapped Vekele on the shoulder. “I need your eyes on this.”
Heat flushed over Vekele. Any mention of his eyes was usually followed by an insult.
