Serpent's Traitor (Four Kingdoms #2)

2. prologue: head seer (part 2)

But that was fine with him. He was far more comfortable than the lot of them. He smiled at a passing woman whose nose crinkled at him. She turned her head away so sharply, it was a wonder it didn't crack in protest.

Samir shrugged and resumed the tiresome journey to the castle gates. The contempt was far worse there than in the city.

The guards glared down their stubby noses at him even though he towered over them. Then, after checking his papers thoroughly, presumably in the hopes of finding indiscretion, they grudgingly waved him in.

Samir paused as he craned his head to stare at the glamorous castle before him. A thin slant of snow blanketed its arched roof. The grey stone glistened from a distance as if covered by a sheet of ice, sending the sunlight skittering off in random directions across the ground. But upon closer inspection, it was a mosaic of humble rocks as if pulled off the roadside to create a bold castle against the blue skies.

He shook off his awe and scanned the lively castle grounds with curiosity. Tax day was almost completed, yet the number of people standing around with solemn expressions and empty hands was voluminous.

Samir searched for a probable reason, but his eyes found nothing besides a line of guards along the walls. Obviously, something important was underway. More reason for him to hasten and deliver his goods.

The tax collector hunkered behind a wooden table with a stack of papers near the castle gates. At his side were several wagons with goods from the people, organized by harvest, clothing, and objects of value amongst many others.

The man was thinner than air with a white shirt buttoned to the collar and tucked into slick trousers. His silver hair gelled back, and his beard was trimmed to perfection.

Samir headed over to him, unstrapping the basket once he approached. "I have the harvest for the Blackthorns."

"Next time, take care to be punctual." The man's piercing gold eyes glowered at him. "You almost missed taxes."

Samir offered the basket with a crooked smile. "I'll be sure to remember that."

"I hope you will," the tax collector replied with narrowed eyes before shuffling through the papers and pulling out one. He glanced over at the basket then at the form in his hand. "This is not the required amount."

"Can't blame us if the fish don't bite," Samir said with a shrug. "That's a couple of square meals right there."

"A couple of what?" The man's face morphed into bafflement. Then, as if realizing the shift in expression, he quickly sobered and shook his head. "Regardless of that, this is unacceptable. And as the law dictates for first-time offenders, you must pay double the tax next month."

Samir rocked his feet in the cold ground and nodded. It was the law. He and his mother were well aware of the consequences of coming up short. The crowd by the castle doors began to mutter, catching Samir's attention.

He turned back to the tax collector and pointed at the gathering. "Well, that matter is squared away. What's going on over there?"

The man's eyes widened. He unfolded his hands and gestured gracefully at Samir's arm. "It is impolite to point. Refrain from doing so, please."

Samir retracted his arm with a frown, creasing the skin of his forehead. "So, what's happening?"

He stared at Samir as if he'd sported two heads. "The Head Seer passed to the afterlife. Bless him eternally."

"Okay," Samir dragged out the word until the recollection of his mother's stories sprung forth in his mind. When the Head Seer passed away, Witan tradition required them to gather the best prospects in the castle grounds to see who the gemstone would bind with and award the title of Head Seer to someone through a prophesied vision.