Asunder: A Gathering of Chaos Cameron Hopkin (read a book txt) 📖

I mustn’t let him distract me. A thousand pretty boys could die before she allowed this chance to pass her by.

Raising her arms to the sky, Renna called out to the man in her most commanding voice. “Hail, king of the north! Conqueror and savior in times to come, hail!” She considered kneeling but decided it would give the wrong impression about their relationship. She settled instead for a deep bow of the head with arms out. He looked up from his fallen foe and fixed her with a stern gaze. Yes, there is power there. Good. He stood slowly, facing her. She mentally prepared the opening salvos for their conversation. Their struggle for dominance would be epic, and his eventual acceptance of her mastery would shape the world.

Then he shucked the black robe off over his head and threw it on the ground. The words died on her lips. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Nira goggled and blinked. The savage was covered only by his tight black pants and boots. He looked like a mountaintop pine, gnarled, aging, and hard as stone. Multiple rats clung his torso, biting and clawing. Without any apparent discomfort or sense of haste, he methodically pulled them from his body and placed them one by one on the walkway, nudging them with a foot to urge them away. Thankfully, he left his pants in place. He addressed Renna as he shook one last rat out his robes and put them back on. “You give me titles I do not possess, Madam Weaver.” He turned back to the fallen boy, frowning.

Sensing his attention slipping away, she scrambled to recover. “We have travelled far to meet you, lord of the north.”

That brought a sharp look from him. “Why do you call me that?”

She donned her mysterious face. “The priesthood of Gaia knows much that is hidden.”

He regarded her flatly. “The priesthood of Gaia plays with weeds and sticks and has filled the world with unsightly addicts and broken things.” She opened her mouth to give a sharp answer, but he rolled over the top of her. “We don’t allow your kind on the Black Isle. So why would you name me lord and conqueror?”

She gritted her teeth and let the offense pass for now. “I have seen your face in visions, O King, and I know much of what is to come. I am here to help you.”

His face was heavy with disapproval. “I want nothing to do with auguries and prophecies. You don’t know what’s coming and neither does anyone else. If you want to help me, then please see to my friend. Otherwise, I bid you good night.”

“Your friend?” Nira said. “You just maimed him for life!” She stood well back from the man, trying not to look at the gruesomely wounded boy.

The northerner looked sad and glanced at his hands. His left thumb was red to the last knuckle. “He is my friend, or should have been… but some things can only be done the hard way. Can you help him, Madam Hand? I admit that I have never thought your religion to be of much use, but at the moment I would be very glad to be wrong.”

“I… Your Grace, if…” Renna’s tongue tripped over itself. She had all her speeches ready to unleash, but none of them fit the moment. She paused to shake her thoughts free and adjust to reality. He wouldn’t hear me right now anyway. He’s genuinely concerned for the boy. It was a weakness she could exploit. “I live to serve, Lord of the North.”

He grimaced. “Do not call me that, please. My name is Gamarron.”

She bowed to him. “And I am Renna Mansour, Hand of Gaia, Fourth Class, of the Order Bryophyta. My companion is Nira.”

He nodded impatiently. “What can you do for him?”

She knelt by the boy, inspecting him closely. The eye was a red ruin beyond recovery, and he bore a number of other wounds in various stages of healing. These two had seen battle more than once. “You may disparage our arts, Lord Gamarron, but I can stop his bleeding and make him well in less time than you would believe possible.” She stroked the lad’s cheek as she checked him over. So soft. “We are staying at an inn nearby. Bring him there and I will see to him.” Would that hornet regrowth therapy I devised really work? Could I adapt it to a human? Hmm. Never been done. She found herself wanting to touch the poor lad again. The thought of nursing him back to health was surprisingly pleasant.

The relief on the graybeard’s face was palpable. “I cannot thank you enough,” he said. Stooping down, he lifted the heavy-bodied lad with no discernible strain. “Which way do we go?”

In short order they were back in their room at the Zephyr’s Whip, the young man stripped down and safely cradled in her feather bed. Kest, I think he said his name is. A Beast Rider. How exotic.

“Sawgrass paste first, I think,” she mused out loud. She knew exactly what she was about, but she needed the savage to know that, too. She pulled forth her little stone jar of greasy green paste and spread it gently across the boy’s bruised ribs, and then his battered cheekbones. “If I had them, I’d set maggots in the cuts and scrapes to clean out any infection, but a good washing will have to do. Nira, run to the kitchen and get hot water and a few strips of clean cloth.”

The stubborn little thing frowned, but for once she obeyed without complaint. Thank Gaia. I’ll not let our king see me arguing with a witless backwater chit.

“His collarbone is broken on the right side,” muttered the northerner sheepishly. Sighing in exasperation, Renna palpated high on the lad’s chest, feeling the bones shift slightly.

“Quite the friendship you two have,” she remarked. “Did you have to nearly kill him?”

The man’s hands twitched as if