UNSHEATHED

Chapter Fifty One

Elena smiled at Liran as he looked up. She had seen a fierce concentration in his expression as he worked the strange magic of maru to find out what was wrong with this man. She knew Liran wouldn't balk at the idea of scanning his mind if it was necessary. A ruler had to make difficult choices, and a Marulan's ethics sometimes would have to be laid aside for the greater good. Liran returned her a smile in kind.

"He's fine."

The sentry sighed a little. She saw his body relax, realizing there had been a tension there previously. The girl hugging her waist let go and reached out to take Liran's hand. The Prince had not realized this until she touched him, then his eyes went wide. Elena realized that he wasn't wearing any gloves because of his work.

"What are you doing!"

She grabbed the child's wrists and squeezing tight. The girl gasped, but no sound came from her throat. She released Liran's hand.

"It's alright, Field Marshall, I'm fine." His expression relaxed. "She was just trying to communicate with me."

The child had collapsed to the ground and rolled up in a ball, as if Elena might strike her. She immediately felt guilty and reached down to bring the girl back to standing. She crouched to face her and looked into her eyes. The dark blue circles reflected the lamplight looking less fearful. Liran put a hand on Elena's arm.

"She said something, or at least, she gave me an impression. She was happy that I had cleansed the man."

Liran sounded a little unsure, or surprised. Elena stood and searched his face now as well. He looked well—happy even.

"Are you sure, my Lord?"

A small crinkle of lines appeared at the outer corners of his eyes as he smiled. She liked that. It was a small sign that he did age, if at a much slower rate than others.

"She's harmless, actually, I think she's going to be rather helpful. In the morning we should bring all the children around the whole camp and have them identify the people who need to be cleansed, as she put it, and we can be more confident after that of our soldiers and their allegiances."

"Our enemy has his ways of influencing people. We know the Legion was split by the Guardian's ability to persuade. I've been worried about how we might also be affected."

It was surprising to think that such small children might have an answer to a question she had no idea how to deal with.

"You would have thought of something else had they not found us, but we are in luck, I think."

After healing he sometimes looked a little vulnerable, and now was no exception. Elena didn't like the role Liran had chosen to play in this war. It didn't fit with her idea of a ruler, but there had never been anyone quite like him.

Elena walked back to the children's tent and saw the sentry reposted to his original position. He saluted her as she turned to leave after reviewing the other sentries. No sooner had Elena turned her back, though, than she heard a strangled cry from the man. She snapped back around to see him clutch his throat, his eyes rolling up and back. For a moment he straightened, looking recovered, but a curious look came over his face.

"You think to thwart me, child, but you will fail! This one dies, as will any others you decide to meddle with. I will not have my handiwork undone."

She recognized the arrogant tone. The voice of Lord Argentia! It was the same one that had taken control of Dahlia. Elena realized, if ever she was going to get the chance to talk to her enemy, now was the time. She gripped her sword handle.

"I know what you are up to, Korr, Argentia--whatever you are!"

She grabbed the soldier's uniform and pulled him toward her. The soldier's expression turned briefly to surprise as his face neared hers. "And if you think I'm going to let you continue, you're mistaken. We are coming for you, and your bit of fun will be over."

The soldier remained limp in her hands, but the sneer on his face remained.

"No Guardian will stop me, those poor pact-bound fools, and the Hilliri and Trillas haven't the power. I challenge you to try, child, but I'm afraid you are all going to die like this poor soul." The soldier's head tipped back and a strange, deep laugh, much louder than he could have made with his own voice, echoed throughout the camp. He then slumped over and died.

____________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed this instalment of Unsheathed. If you did, please consider voting so that it has a chance to receive some more attention by rising up the ranks in the Fantasy category. I also enjoy comments, so please feel free to let me know what you thought.

Cheers!

Rebecca