Island Shifters: Book 03 - An Oath of the Children (2 page)

Walking swiftly along the endless hallway, he realized that the
Premier’s
compound was
also
much larger than
any of the other homes
in his village.
And, eerily quiet. Again, he had to wonder why the people that needed the least space lived in the largest houses. He would change that, too, when he was the Premier.
To his way of thinking,
the largest families should have the largest homes. It just made sense, so he wondered why no one thought of it yet.

Listening to the
whispered hush of the Adjunct’s slippered feet on the lavish tile, he grew more nervous with each step. He
wished he had stopped at his hut
beforehand
to get Papa.
With
his father
by his side,
he
would not
be feeling
so afraid.

He wiped
away a tear that suddenly fell from his eye and
straightened his back. He was twelve now and boys
of
twelve
years
did not cry. At least that is what
Papa
always told him.

Up ahead, the Adjunct stopped before
a set of
double doors at the end of the
corridor
and guarded by two more fighters in their crisp
white tongors with
gold trim. One of the
fighters opened the
doors
without a word
from
the Adjunct.
As personal aide to the Premier,
he
must
not
need special permission to enter.

Just inside the door, the Adjunct turned to him. “What is your name, boy?”

“Tatum, sir.”

“What
caste
are you?”

“Ironfingers,
sir.”

The Adjunct grabbed his hands and inspected both sides. “I do not see the
scars
of the blacksmith upon you.”

“I am only twelve,
sir. My apprenticeship will not begin until next year.”

The Adjunct shook his head. “What a
pity.
So young.”

Tatum
did not know what he meant by that, but decided he should not ask.

The man turned back to the
dark
interior of the room and announced,
“Your Eminence, a messenger is here to seek an audience with you.”

Standing behind the Adjunct, Tatum
tried to peer around him, but his vision
could not
penetrate the dark recesses of the
room
as it was
lit only by a few candles. They waited in silence
for several long moments
before
Tatum heard
a
rustling of movement.

“Send him in.” The voice was deep and confident and could only be
that of the
Premier.

The Adjunct stepped
to the side
and placed a hand on the small of Tatum’s back, urging him forward. He went nervously with the
rolled parchment
held out in front of him
as though a
talisman
that would keep him safe.
Tatum kept his eyes forward as he
walked the aisle between massive pillars
toward the figure sitting
upon his throne
and
bathed in candlelight.

“Come closer boy.”

Tatum hurried to the Premier and
stretched
the parchment out toward the leader of
the
Ellvin
people.

A long fingered hand appeared out of the folds of
a
richly
embroidered
robe.

After releasing the note,
Tatum immediately knelt
with his head down,
but his
curiosity
piqued
once again
and
he glanced up from underneath his eyelashes.

Just as Tatum feared, the Premier looked carefully at the seal
and frowned
before he unfurled the small paper and began to read.

The seconds ticked by.
The room was deathly quiet as the Premier’s
eyes glided over the words.
Finally, he looked up and
steely, black
eyes latched onto Tatum.
“Did you open this, boy?”

Tatum
suddenly felt the urge to lie.
Some
deep-rooted
preservation instinct inside
his body
was telling him that in order to live, he must lie. But, with the
Premier’s
gaze boring into his
skull, he found that he could not.
The Premier’s
Ascendancy
was the strongest
on
the island.

“Aye, Your Eminence.”

“Why?”

“I…I
was curious,
Your Eminence.”

“Can you read?”

“Aye.”

He held up the parchment. “What does this say?”

“It says
that…that people are coming to
Ellvin
and they are bringing wormwood
plants
with them.”

“I see. And, this interests you?”

“Aye, Your Eminence. My
mother
is plagued.”

The Premier
scoffed.
“We have many plagued on the island, young man. What makes yours
so special?”

His small shoulders tightened and he was afraid he would cry again.
“She is
special to me, Your Eminence.”

“You would like her to receive the draught?”

“More than anything,” he whispered.

The doors
in the back of the room
opened and
the Premier released Tatum from his penetrating
stare.
Tatum
let out a small breath,
relieved for the
short reprieve from the Premier’s attention.

He
peeked over his shoulder
and
recognized the woman
hurrying
down the long aisle toward them. It was Samara, the
Caste
Second
of the Eyereaders. She appeared to float
as she glided
closer,
her long black
hair
hardly stirring as she moved.
By the look
of
health in her face,
Tatum realized that she, like the Premier,
did not suffer
in the least
from lack of
the draught.

Samara
glanced briefly at him before kneeling in front of the Premier.
“Your Eminence.”

“You may rise, Samara.” He gestured with his chin. “This boy has just delivered
a
message from
the ships. Is the news as good as I have just read?”

“Better, Your Eminence.”

The Premier snorted.
“What could be better than the arrival of wormwood plants, Samara?
The Ellvin people have just been saved from
obliteration!”

Can it be?
Tatum wondered.
All on the island saved?

Samara
glanced once more at Tatum before continuing, but the Premier urged her on.

“Blood.”

“Blood?”

“It is an island of magic, Your Eminence. Almost every
soul I encountered in
Massa
had
some spark
of magic.” Her eyelids fluttered.
“It was
exhilarating.”

The Premier
sat
forward on his throne. “Are you sure
of this, Samara?”

“I am, Your Eminence.”

The Premier came off his chair and stood before the Eyereader.
“It has been many, many years since we’ve had the blood. I was starting to believe that there was no magic left in the world.”

“There is an abundance of magic in
Massa, Your Eminence. I can assure you of that fact.”

“Oh, Samara,” he breathed in excitement, “to
obtain
our sustenance from blood instead of the wormwood draught?
I can hardly dare to believe it’s true!”

Samara’s thin eyebrows
arched
higher.
“You do
understand the repercussions?”

“Of course, I do!” the Premier snapped.
“Not everyone
will condone
such an approach, I realize that.”

“No,
I am afraid not,
Your Eminence.”

The Premier turned and walked back to his throne and sat.
“I think it goes without saying that
we cannot disclose this information to the population
just
yet.
It could cause untold turmoil
if people knew a cure was on
the
way.
Folks
with loved ones who are ill will do just about anything to save them.”
Black eyes turned
his way
once again.
“Don’t you agree, boy?”

“Aye, Your Eminence.” Tatum smiled broadly at the handsome face. How could he have ever thought him to be frightening?

“You may go now.”

Tatum stood. “I…I can go?”

“Aye, you may go.”

What? No lashings?
He could hardly believe his luck.
And,
Mama
is going
to receive the draught she
needs to be well again!
Wait until
Papa
hears
about
this!

Tatum bowed one last time to the Premier and turned to walk down the aisle. It felt strange to be walking without an escort,
and he
suddenly
felt an
icy
itch between his shoulder blades.
Ignoring the
peculiar
feeling, he
kept walking and did not turn around.
If he had, he would have seen the brief nod the Premier gave to his Adjunct standing in the shadows. He would have seen the small crossbow appear in the man’s hands, and
then
he would have known
that the bad thing he had done would not go unpunished after all.

 

C
HAPTER
1

T
HE
D
EPARTURE

 

 

“Your daughter is late again,” Kiernan
felt the need to inform
him
for the
third time.

“Why is she always
my
daughter when she’s not doing what she’s
supposed to
be doing?” Beck asked.

Kiernan
raised an eyebrow at him as if the answer should have been obvious. He shook his head
in good humor and let the conversation drop.
After nearly twenty years of marriage
to his iron-willed Princess, he knew
when to keep his mouth closed.

Instead, as they waited together
at the harbor
at Northfort, he silently appraised his
lovely
wife. At thirty-eight
years of age, she was still stunning in every regard. Lithe and toned, she had the body a woman half her age
would be envious of, but it was more than
her
physical
beauty
that captivated him. Right from the very beginning, it
was the
intoxicating
combination of her passion for life, her intelligence,
and
her strength. She challenged him at every turn whether a simple game of Dragon’s Fire,
innocent
swordplay or
a
heated
debate of
political stratagem. Kiernan kept him
engaged
and excited about life
on a level that surpassed anything he could ever achieve alone. No, there was never a dull moment with his warrior
bride, and he
adored her
more today than the day he first met her.

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