The Darkest Sword Samantha Kroese (easy books to read in english .TXT) 📖

running now?” Annalysa whispered into Ashiyn’s ear then stalked into the hall to let Sark escort her to the cell.

Ashiyn glared after her. Her words stung because he knew she was right. She had seen right through him. He retreated back into the room and shut the door. He rubbed his eyes as his thoughts raced. Who did he think he was fooling? Apparently, not her. Could he even fool himself now? He had grown close to her these few weeks. He cared. He wasn’t supposed to care.

With a growl he stalked across his room to gather his armor and his blade. The physical pain he could deal with. The beatings, the deaths. He knew he should go kill her now. He knew how it would end, and if would be less painful if he did it now. But he was selfish. He wanted to keep her, and he was tired of Rhadamanthus taking things away from him. Had he not earned the right to enjoy himself?

She wasn’t the only thing he cared about either. The way his thoughts had turned to Soryn earlier did not escape his notice. If anything happened to either of them it would hurt Ashiyn more than he wanted to deal with. He didn’t know how to handle that sort of pain.

Therein lay the real reason he had constantly refused Soryn’s advances. He was terrified that Rhadamanthus would find out and kill Soryn. Ashiyn went to the water basin and splashed the cool water on his face to steady himself. No. He could not afford to care for either of them. Not until he could free them. It was too dangerous.

He shoved all of those worries aside and stalked out to the barn. A long ride on Illusion would settle him. The horse was the most important thing of all. Illusion gave Ashiyn unconditional love and freedom. Rhadamanthus could never know that either.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Ashiyn flipped through another book, scowling. When it did not have the answers he was looking for, he tossed it over his shoulder into the messy pile of mistreated tomes. Sark would clean them up later.

He rose from his massive chair but paused when his magic rippled. He looked to the doorway to see Soryn leaning against the doorframe. Wearing only a runed loincloth. Soryn was nowhere near as muscular as Ashiyn, but he was not bad to look at. “You are going to get in trouble running around like that here if my master catches you.”

“Not if you catch me?” Soryn smirked, one arm tucked behind him secretively. “I know for a fact both of our masters are gone for days. Rurik accompanied Rhadamanthus on the trip to the far North, and something up there blocks Rurik’s shadow travel.”

Ashiyn fought his irritation and tried to focus on the information. Rhadamanthus had refused to let Ashiyn go on the trip or even elaborate about why they were going. He did not like being kept in the dark, especially when Rurik was involved. And travel through the shadows did not work there? That was strange. “Did Rurik say why they were going?”

“Just because I share his bed does not mean he is loose with his secrets. Rurik is wiser than that,” Soryn said, his smile faltering just a moment. “May I come in, my Prince?”

Ashiyn waved him in. “Shut the door. The servants talk.” He poured them both a glass of wine, then sat down behind the desk again. He slid the second glass across the desk. “Ever had wine?” He didn’t feel the affects of the alcohol, though sometimes the way the servants talked about it made him wish he could.

Soryn stepped inside and shut the heavy door. Noticing a latch on it, he flipped that as well, locking the door. Then with a mischievous grin, he strolled over to the desk and took a long sip of the wine, still hiding one hand behind him. He shuddered and put the cup back down. “That’s strong.”

“Is it? I can’t tell. None of it affects me,” Ashiyn shrugged and drank some more of his own. “Why are you here?”

“You haven’t come to see me lately. Too busy with your woman?” Soryn asked casually, although his tone held jealousy and his handsome features held a little bit of hurt.

Ashiyn bristled a little. “She’s just a bed slave, Soryn. I like sex.”

“All sex?” Soryn grinned, leaning across the table. “I bet I’m much more satisfying than she is. After all, I adore you. She sounds like she hates you.”

“I think she pities me, actually. Which is worse,” Ashiyn ignored the rest of the comment and tried to shift to look behind Soryn’s back. “What are you hiding?”

Soryn whipped out a dark tome and waved it in the air. “Your book about Sihtaar. The only one in Rurik’s library that mentions it.”

Ashiyn’s eyes widened and he eagerly leaned across to try to wrench it from his friend’s grip. Soryn laughed and danced back out of the way. Ashiyn gave him a scowl and demanded, “Soryn, give me the book.”

“I believe I was promised payment for the book,” Soryn said, holding it just out of reach.

“I said I might reward you,” Ashiyn said as he stood up. He walked around the desk with purpose, hand outstretched. “Let me see that it is indeed what you say it is.”

Soryn hesitated, then handed it over. “It was not easy to steal from Sia you know.”

Ashiyn flipped through the pages, his heart starting to race. Inside were the secrets to the legendary blade. How it was created, the power it housed, the way to tame it, even its location. He turned and started for the door, but Soryn blocked his path. “Soryn, I need to go get this sword.”

“I performed a service for you. I expect payment. I am not your slave or servant; I