The Patrician by Joan Kayse Read Free Book Online

her, weeping, screaming followed by a weight of grief so heavy her vision-self fell to her knees. Blinking through smoke at the grove of tall palm trees, she looked down, bile rising in her throat. The sightless eyes of the beaten, bloodied woman stared at her and a wave of guilt ripped through her gut.
    Bryna gripped the edge of her seat as she settled back to the present, still feeling waves of energy pulsing from him, unsettling impressions of anger and vengeance and resolve. Beneath the maelstrom she glimpsed gentler traits, but those were quickly swept away, unable to stand up to the stronger emotions. She bit her lip at the familiar power that flowed from him. It bombarded her from every direction, overwhelming her senses with one certainty—he was dangerous.
    And she was going to lie to him.
    She swallowed past the tightness in her throat, inclined her head. “How may I serve you, master?”
    He remained silent. Bryna shifted on the hard seat beneath, the tension maddening. She wanted this to be over with, finished. She had spoken true to Coeus that she could only tell the truth, it was the strongest aspect of her gift. It did not sit well with her to use it for falsehoods.
    But this was her chance to be free, to find Bran.
    “Master?” she prodded.
    “I do not recognize the accent that tints your words. Where are you from?”
    She wound the ends of the rag veil nervously in her hands. What did he care about her accent or circumstances? She wanted to scream at him to ask his silly question and be gone. But slaves were compelled to answer. “My home is very far away.”
    “Rome’s empire covers the world,” he countered.
    His tone was arrogant and annoying. She fought to temper her reply. Through clenched teeth she answered, “Not my world.”
    His chuckle was without humor. “Still, it managed to find you.”
    The bitterness shading his words were unmistakable, needing no mystical gift to discern. From beneath her lashes she watched him walk to the window. He stood for a long moment, gazing at what she did not know. She found herself craning forward, trying to make out his face, but his features remained hidden.
    Finally, he spoke. “Let me understand, then. You were born a free person?”
    “Yes,” she answered cautiously.
    “And did you foresee your capture?”
    A pang of sorrow gripped her. “No.”
    “Not very accomplished seers then, are you?” He pushed away from the window and started for the door and muttered, “I knew this was a waste of time.”
    Irritation pricked at her. He didn’t believe in her sight, yet he was here, seeking her counsel. What nefarious force could compel such a strong-minded man to abandon his beliefs? She pushed that concern aside. He was a grown man, capable, from the looks of him, and free. But if he left without the message, she’d lose her chance to escape.
    Releasing the breath she had not even realized she was holding Bryna closed her eyes, searching deep within, praying that her gift would not choose this moment to abandon her. Several precious moments passed as she sorted through the energies. They were all so strong. Please gods, let her coax something forward.
    He reached to push open the door.
    “When you were a wee boy, you took a jeweled brooch favored by your mother.”
    He stopped. The silence was deafening.
    She blew out a breath. Good. She had his attention. “You meant to keep it only for a while, to use it as a pirate’s treasure in a game with friends,” she continued. “But while you played, the piece was lost.”
    He nodded once. “In a lake near our house.”
    She knew. Moments ago, she’d been standing next to a frantic, dark haired boy, while a second boy dove beneath the water quipping that he’d already bathed that day.
    Now he would listen to her and she could be finished with this sordid business. She opened her mouth to speak, but he spoke first.
    “My father was furious. He thrashed me soundly and exiled me to my chamber