Friday, February 20, 2015

A Sneak Peak at Book Four - Pseudo-dragon



“Henrick, I assure you.  I did not send Sordith to kill you,” Luthian’s cold tones held an edge of warning.  
“Liar.  You want me dead.  Do it yourself.” Fire rose up from Henrick’s hands and at the same time, Alador made his decision.  
Before Henrick or Luthian could fire off a spell, Alador hit Henrick square in the chest with a bolt of lightening. Henrick flew backwards hitting the ground hard.  Alador pulled his blade and had it at Henrick’s throat before the mage could recover.  Alador knew that Luthian was watching him closely because neither Blackguard had moved to assist or hinder him.
“Stay down, father.  I don’t want to kill you, but I will before I let you harm the High Minister of this city and your own brother.”  The blade pricked Henrick’s neck drawing a bead of blood.  “The people need his leadership and you sure as the Gods are not capable of leading anything but a whore around.”  
“I should have known you would turn on me.” Henrick snarled up at him.  “Damned half-breed more concerned about currying favor and gaining power than family.”
Alador’s cold smile melted into his eyes: the past giving weight to his words.  “Odd accusation as I have learned everything about currying favor from you.” Their gazes met for one long moment as Henrick lay helpless beneath the tip of his sword.
“Guards!  Take my brother to his manor house and confine him there until I decide what is fair justice for these false accusations and his drawing of power in my presence.”  Luthian’s command was just behind Alador.
“It would seem, my dear Henrick, that your cost to me is greater than your use.” Luthan moved up beside Alador and slowly pushed his blade away from Henrick’s throat.  “I thank you for a true heir that understands that sometimes hard choices must be made even amongst family.  For the sake of your son, I will not order your death.  I would prepare to leave Smallport and your manor home.”  
“You are welcome to one another.” Henrick hissed.  “I would rather be confined to the Daezun routes than ever step in your presence again!”
Luthian indicated for the guards to take him.  They both grabbed an arm and pulled the mage up.  Henrick jerked his arms free. “I’m going!  You don’t need to haul me off.”  He turned and stomped through the door.
Alador sheathed his sword as Luthian turned to look at him.  “You, my dear nephew, never fail to surprise me,” Luthian moved to stand before him.  “I did not expect you to strike your father.”
Alador met his gaze evenly.  “He breaks his word all the time.  You have been true to yours.”  Alador glanced at the open door and back to his uncle.  “You have a promise made that I intend for you to keep.”
Luthian’s cold smile sent goosebumps racing up Alador’s spine.  “You will have all you asked for... “ He grabbed both of Alador’s arms as he embraced him.  “... and more.”