A Man Betrayed Read Online Free

by a
knife; the alternative was worse. Jack had a greater potential for destruction
within him than an armory of blades.
    Melli was secretly
intrigued by the thought of sorcery. Oh, she'd been taught as a child that it
was evil, and that it was only practiced by those close with the devil. Her
father flatly refused to believe in it, saying it was a thing out of legend
like dragons and fairies, but she'd heard tales here and there. Tales that told
of how at one time, sorcery was common in the Known Lands, and that people who
used it were neither good nor bad. Surely Jack was proof of this?
    If anything, since
she'd witnessed his power the day they'd escaped from the mercenaries, she
found herself more attracted to him. Before he had been almost a boy: unsure of
himself and awkward, with long legs and long hair. The power he'd drawn seemed
to fill him out, like fluid poured into a waterskin. His presence was more
compelling, his body more his own. He was maturing fast, and sorcery, with all
its accompanying hearsay and heresy, endowed him with an aura that Melli found
hard to resist.
    Jack had his
weaknesses, though. Melli worried in case the bitterness she had glimpsed in
his attack upon the Halcus soldier might settle and form part of the man.
    Suddenly Melli
didn't feel like laughing anymore. She resisted the urge to unplug the knot
hole and check the horizon one more time. They had paid dearly for this chicken
coop, and there might yet be an even higher price to pay.
    As if reading her
thoughts, Jack spoke to comfort her. "Don't worry. No one will come,"
he said. "The soldier can't have gone far, and even if he made it to a
village, no one is about to go chasing the enemy in this weather."
    It was her fault.
If she hadn't spoken up in warning, the man would never have known where they
came from. Yet she had, and the sound of the lilting accent of the Four
Kingdoms had been clearly heard. If she had only kept silent, the man might
have mistaken them for his own. He would, of course, have been no less pleased
about having his shelter and his companion taken from him. But such incidents
were all too common in both countries, and it might have gone overlooked. Until
she spoke.
    Now the man who
had escaped across the snowy field knew they were from the kingdoms. If he were
to make it to a village, he could bring whatever forces were at hand down upon
them with just two words: "The enemy."
    The Halcus hated
the Four Kingdoms with the deep hate that only comes with closeness. Neighbors
they had been for centuries, but everyone knows it's one's neighbors one
despises the most. The war had raged bitterly for five years now; the same war
over the same river that had been fought countless times before. More blood
than water flowed along the River Nestor's bitterly disputed banks. The
kingdoms had the advantage at the moment: a fact that served to make the Halcus
hate them all the more.
    "He might not
have recognized your accent. You only said a few words." Jack took three
strides across the coop and was beside her.
    Melli shook her
head gently and offered her hand. He took it and they stood side by side, and
listened to the sound of the advancing storm. They were trapped here; fleeing
under these conditions would surely bring a more certain death than staying put
and hoping no one would come. As long as the storm raged, they would be safe.
Only fools and the love-sick dared to venture out in a blizzard.
    Her hand rested in
his. There was no pressure in his touch, but part of her wished that there was.
Inexplicably, her thoughts turned toward the king's chancellor, Lord Baralis.
    And then, as she
realized the common thread between the past and the present, she withdrew her
hand from Jack's. It was the touch; a touch remembered-many weeks back now -a
touch that thrilled and repulsed in one. The memory of Baralis' hand upon her
spine. Curious how the mind weaves its associations, sometimes weaving with
unlooked-for irony. Two men, both