Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Jonathan Michael (red novels .txt) 📖

I ignore her but know a protest is inevitable.

She squats to the ground half crossing her legs, accompanied by squirming. “I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to relieve myself properly. Please, may we break? It’s unsanitary and may cause infection, which will only make matters worse. Please.”

It’s been hardly more than a day since Astor convinced me she’s a necessity to Jaymes’s survival. And I’m already regretting my decision to take her captive. The Taoiseach only requires the insolent Dihkai. Anything else is dead weight. But I will foster patience. Astor may prove to be valuable.

“You’re in a secluded forest and already squatting. Drop your undergarments. Have at it.”

“Right here?” She recoils, and her awkward stance causes her to fall over, nearly taking Jaymes with her. The ironroot fastening the two together holds strong as Jaymes catches her balance and, with scowling eyes, tugs back to get Astor on her feet.

“Yes. Be quick. We have much ground to cover today.” Astor’s lack of submission is going to be the cause of her death. And her need to control every situation. It could drive an Advocate to murder. “This is the last stop until we cross the Scarlet.”

“The Scarlet! But the nearest bridge is leagues from here. Far more than a days’ walk.”

There she goes again. Maybe she doesn’t understand how close she is to death. “Don’t worry about where we’ll be crossing. The Forest Road isn’t the only road.” I dismount Persia and retract the ironroot connected to their organic shackles. Both Astor and Jaymes start into the bush together. “Hold it! Are you two so simple you think I’d let you wander off into the dark wood? Right here. One at a time.”

“But we’re tied together at the wrists. Are we to rip off our arms?” Jaymes sasses. “Then we’d have no way to remove our undergarments. And, well… now we’re back to where we began, with soiled garments, and health problems and what not.”

I step closer and raise my arm to bloody her lip. Jaymes doesn’t flinch. I withhold. “No. I don’t expect you to rip off your own arms. I’ll help with that.” I draw my claymore from the sheath mounted to Persia’s harness. I walk closer and cut down toward Jaymes. The root sheers only a finger-width from Jaymes’s wrist. She remains motionless for a moment with her jaw hanging open but quickly feigns annoyance with my precision. The demonstration of my acuteness was necessary, but had she flinched the slightest, it would have caused a blunder. I’d prefer to deliver her to the Taoiseach in one piece, knowing the value she holds with him. The consequences of returning with half a body might be more than I desire.

“Right there. Behind that sword fern. If you try to run, I’ll cut your feet off.” I threaten the girl before she trots off in silence.

Astor glares at me. “She’s a child,” she whines.

“Not too far!” Jaymes flips a crude gesture in the air and ducks behind the brush. “A child with the impulses of a beast,” I reply to Astor. I’m going to have to tame her before I deliver her to the Taoiseach if she’s to be an ally.

Astor doesn’t comment. Instead, she waits patiently and continues to squirm.

“Your little friend only thinks of herself. She must have taken your nonsense about infections seriously. Your bladder will have to wait ‘til she returns.”

“I know what you’re doing,” she retorts.

“And what is that?” I reply.

“You’re carving a gap. She’s a mere child, and I will do what it takes to protect her. I am willing to travel to the capital and proclaim our innocence in front of the Taoiseach if that is where you are taking us. Plus, I’ve seen her naked, for goodness sake—our bond is strong.”

“Was it consensual? She’s only a child.” I look to her with a mocking grin. A cringe of disgust drapes over her, and she shuts her mouth. Thank Susy.

The sound of Astor’s voice is like nails in my skull after listening to her wail for a mere two days now. But the annoying bitch must stick around for Jaymes’s sake. Jaymes, a tough little spunk, can get around on her own sure enough, but her leg remains horrid. Astor is needed in case the infection spreads. However—I reflect on Astor’s comments—driving them apart will allow for me to get a bit more rest at night. I doubt Astor is capable of hatred. But—my gaze steers to the underbrush where Jaymes relieves herself—she might be willing to bash Astor’s face in with a blunt object. That little spunk might just have it in her. I let the indulgent thought flee my mind.

Jaymes meanders back through the bush, rubbing her ass. “Watch out for the cacti out there. The small ones can sneak up and bite before you realize it.”

Jaymes doesn’t realize the severity of the situation either. The constant immature jests. She acts as though I’m a childhood bully who will flee back home at the end of the day. I enjoy her style, but not directed at me. It’s time she learns what Ellia Rosewood is capable of. I can deliver her black and blue yet keep her in one piece. The Taoiseach will have no issue with that.

I slip the leather glove from my hand and grip the ironroot secured about my waist. A typical rope vine would have been my binding of choice. I can manipulate that material faster than a cobra strike, but only the strongest for this one. The tip of the ironroot grows in her direction as I walk closer. It curls around Jaymes’s midsection, tugging her closer to me. She staggers forward.  The ironroot knots and proceeds to curl around her left wrist, then her right, binding them behind her back. To