The Black Beast Read Online Free PDF Page B

destined death. At its center was the lotus, the sacred five, and the pin was a long knife that protruded beyond his shoulder. Kings of Melior always wore that reminder.
    He turned his glittering eyes on me and spoke. “Get those vultures away from the door, then stand there.”
    I bowed and hastened to do as I was bid. “Go,” I told the lackeys by the door, and they scattered, for they also had heard Abas’s words. I stood on guard, quaking and listening. Some great event had to be in the making, and I fervently hoped it did not concern me.
    Tirell stood before the throne. As far as I know, only he of all the court was accorded that privilege; bent knee and bowed head were customary. But Tirell met the icy blue eyes that were so much like his own.
    â€œWhere have you been?” Abas asked.
    â€œTo see Grandfather.”
    â€œOut nattering with an old man. It is a useless life you lead. You are twenty years old.”
    â€œI would be glad to be of assistance to my sire,” Tirell said smoothly. “Are there duties for me?”
    Abas scarcely seemed to have heard him. His stare had locked on nothingness a trifle above Tirell’s head. “If is time you had a wife,” he went on. “You will ride to Tiela as soon as possible, to Nisroch. Raz has one daughter left, and she is of marriageable age. Recilla is her name. Obtain her.”
    I could not see Tirell’s face; perhaps it changed. But his voice as he spoke was level, with scarcely a hint of edge. “Is it not traditional that the Sacred Kings should wed a maiden with one of the many names, the goddess in mortal maiden form, and that on the night of coronation?”
    Abas half rose from his seat in sudden passion. “Sacred King! Do you wish to be a Sacred King or a King in truth? Go to Raz, I say, and you will die in your bed, not on a bloody altar! I have some power, and he has more. What, youngster, would you spurn it?”
    â€œI spurn no power,” Tirell answered quietly, “and I die on no altar. But a haughty wife will be a lifetime’s misery to me, Sire.”
    â€œWhat folly is this?” Abas stood at his full height, towering on the dais, and his glare had taken on a fey light. “I have not told you to cleave to her, only to wed her! Kill her when you can, and save your passion for the whores! Of course you will need a son.” His blue eyes wavered, and it seemed for a moment that they wandered toward me. I wished I could run.
    â€œYou look too far ahead, my liege.” Mother spoke up suddenly. “Indeed, there is no hurry in this matter of Tirell’s wedding. Let it wait, I say, if he is doubtful.”
    â€œAnd I say, Let it not wait.” The King settled to his seat again, but still with a look of stone. “Raz is ripe for the plucking. Princeling, you are to leave within the week. Go, make your preparations.”
    Tirell bowed and left without a word. I longed to follow him, but I judged it wiser to wait until I had been dismissed. I had been noticed at last, and I felt all the danger of it.
    â€œLet him wait, my husband,” our mother Suevi said softly.
    â€œWhat, now!” Abas glared at her. “I thought we had agreed that he will need an ally.”
    â€œYes, and I assumed he would not mind. He is so much like you.” Her gaze would have melted stone, I thought. “But he has found a love, it seems.”
    â€œYou see that?” Abas was startled.
    â€œYes. Let him wait, my lord, and likely it will pass. I know surely he does not wish to be killed. But if he goes to Tiela now, he will make a sorry wooer.”
    â€œHe does not need to woo! He has only to say the word, and Raz will grovel at his feet! No, he must go at once. And he must learn soon that love is no asset to kingship.” Abas rose to leave.
    Queen Suevi rose with him. “What, my lord?” she questioned softly. “Have you forgotten the worthiness of love?