The Legend of Asahiel: Book 03 - The Divine Talisman Read Online Free PDF Page B

not the friend you believed him to be.”
    Allion whirled angrily. “What would you have me do, Marisha? Forsake everything I’ve been raised to believe? Pretend there’s no difference between a consecrated burial and the flames of a communal pyre?”
    “It would not be like that. He is still king, and would be granted the utmost respect. Many burn their dead.”
    “Heathens and savages!” Allion snapped. He recalled the screams of Corathel’s men as they were sacrificed to the A’awari flames…the ritual slaying of Jaquith Wyevesces…his and Marisha’s first kiss…
    His hands clenched into fists. His eyes moistened with the threat of tears. When Marisha’s hands reached for his face, he recoiled.
    She halted, looking as if he had slapped her.
    Rather than apologize, he turned back to the body—wrapped loosely in its burial shroud—and fished out a longer cord from the pile upon the floor. As he had with the knees and ankles, he cinched this one about his friend’s waist.
    When Marisha spoke again, her voice had changed. “Is this about burial customs? Or is this about us?”
    Allion tensed. He wasn’t sure what was happening anymore, could not seem to think clearly. All he really knew was that his friend was dead, had perished while defending them—knowing full well of their betrayal…
    “There is no us ,” Allion muttered.
    A chill silence settled over him. Already, he regretted the words, but would not take them back. Nor could he bring himself to turn and face Marisha, who he expected to go storming from the king’s chambers.
    When she did not, he thought that perhaps she hadn’t heard him.
    Her strained tone told him otherwise. “Should you not wait at least until Nevik arrives?”
    “The sooner I am gone, the sooner I can return.”
    “Have you told your family?”
    Allion shook his head. “They would only insist on accompanying me, and I would not have them do so.”
    “What about Stephan? Or does he not deserve to know?”
    The strain was giving way to resentment. Allion did his best to ignore its sting, focusing on his work. “Stephan worries even more than you do. You will do a better job, I’m sure, of keeping things calm in my absence.”
    “Is there anything else you require of me, my lord ?”
    Her voice was tight, angry. Allion finished tying the final rope in place before rising again to face her.
    “Only this,” he said, taking up the scabbard and belt that lay propped beside the bed. From the scabbard’s throat protruded the jeweled hilt of the Crimson Sword.
    Marisha’s glare could not mask her surprise.
    “I will not risk it on the open road,” he explained. “The blade belongs here, with you.”
    “I am no swordsman,” she argued.
    “Nor am I, as Rogun kindly pointed out.”
    “You are whatever is required of you. You always have been.”
    Allion wished he could believe that. He wished he could reach out and hold her, kiss her, comfort her, then and there, without insult to his dead friend. He spent a lot of time, these days, wishing for things that couldn’t be.
    “This talisman is our voice. Our people see it as a divine standard—one that even Rogun must respect.” Allion sighed. “The general grows impatient. He seeks permission to go door to door in search of Illychar who may yet be hiding among us. There’s no telling what he might do should the Circle refuse. Either way, we’re but a step away from falling under his thumb.”
    “Perhaps we should all flee, then, while we can.”
    “I don’t believe he yet dares take it by force. He can’t risk a civil uprising on top of the threat we already face. The important thing is to make sure it stays within our hands, so that we’re able to counter any unilateral moves he might make.”
    He had no right to ask this of her, he knew. But there was no one else he could trust.
    “Rogun concerns me, yes,” he added, when still she did not accept the sheathed blade. “But the Illychar frighten me more. As