To Whatever End (Echoes of Imara Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

with her Wielding Energy and applied Pressure, a tight grip on the man’s wrist. His eyes went wide, and he snatched his hand away, shaking it. She gripped tighter, keeping her eyes firmly locked on his. The two men next to him furrowed their eyebrows in confusion. One drew his knife and Cecily grabbed his wrist with Pressure, tightening it so his blade dropped to the floor.
    “We don’t want a fight,” she said, keeping her Pressure grip solid. “And you don’t want to fight us.” She kicked the knife across the floor and it skidded to a halt near the wall. She squeezed them both with Pressure again and held them until they both winced.
    Daro put his hand on the small of her back. Cecily held their gaze for a moment longer before she dropped her Pressure grip and turned to take her seat. Daro followed, deliberately turning away to dismiss them. The men shuffled away, their faces flushed, and left through the front door rather than returning to their table.
    The tension gradually melted from the room. The chatter of conversation rose in a low crescendo and the bustle of activity resumed. The minstrel backed away a few feet from their table and scanned the room with a neutral expression. Cecily caught his eye and gave him a hard stare. Don’t even think about it. He cringed and went back to his seat.
    Cecily glanced around. Most of the patrons had gone back to their food and drink, but a few still turned their way. No one else had joined in the threats, but no one stood up for them either. The people here seemed to be indifferent, at best.
    “Bloody minstrels, can’t ever keep their mouths shut,” Daro grumbled. He rose from his seat and walked to the stairs without another word. Cecily sighed.
    Edson shifted in his seat and scratched his head, his eyes still darting around the room. “Does this happen a lot?” he asked.
    Cecily shrugged. “No, not a lot. But this isn’t the first time. It’s hard to know what the mood of a place will be. More often than not, the crowd cheers and calls for the song, and then sings along.” She chuckled to herself. “Once they tried to hoist us up in our chairs and carry us around the room. Daro hated that just as much.”
    “Not sure how they’d lift him anyway,” Edson said with a grin. “But, and sorry if it isn’t my place to ask, why does he get so upset?”
    “The war wasn’t what most people thought. It wasn’t all glory and honor and heroics. We didn’t make Rogan the king. He was king by right, after Hadran died.” She deliberately said “died,” rather than “was killed.” It somehow made the whole thing seem more honorable. “Daro didn’t want to be involved, but we did what we felt was right. Now he just wants to be left alone.”
    The innkeeper came to their table, bringing their dinner himself. “My dear, please accept my apologies for the, uh, incident. I cannot thank you enough for ending it peacefully. My inn is not a brawling tavern. I’ll see to it those men aren’t welcomed in my establishment again. They had no right!”
    “Please, Mr. Fielding, it’s all right, truly,” Cecily said, her voice gentle. “Sometimes these things happen.”
    “Be that as it may, there will be no charge, of course. And Master Daro, will he be joining you, or would you like his dinner sent up to your room?”
    “I believe he would prefer to dine in his room this evening. If you would be so kind as to send mine as well, it would be most appreciated.” Cecily smiled.
    He nodded and waved frantically for a serving girl. “Yes, yes, that will be fine. Come Betsy, this will be going to the large room upstairs. Hurry, on with you now.”
    Cecily rose and left the innkeeper to arrange for their dinner. “Edson, we’ll expect you up early to help with the cargo, but you’re welcome to enjoy the Float tonight if you wish.” He smiled and nodded. She guessed he was relieved he wasn’t being banished to his room for the night. The minstrel had taken to the