After The Rabbit (Waldo Rabbit Series) by Nelson Chereta Read Free Book Online

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    A stab in the back was the Poisondagger family motto. Living within the castle among the main family didn’t mean you were safe. He knew plenty of them would be happy to get rid of him. Celton could think of a few people he would not mind ridding himself of, as well. The problem was doing it without being too obvious. Accidents were acceptable; killing someone openly was not.
     
    Everyone in the main family had to deal with fear. It was the future that wore on nerves and left so many trying desperately to find any way to please father. Eventually the old man was going to die. Amazingly, it might be of natural causes. Since there was no designated heir, no one knew what would happen when the day came. No one was strong enough to declare themselves the next head and be certain of getting support. If you declared yourself, and the members of the family refused to acknowledge you, it would mark you as a failure and usually cause a quick and painful death.
     
    In most of the Great Families, when someone declared him or herself the new head it was usually a mere formality. Those who might be rivals would acknowledge him because they would not have the support to risk a challenge. For anyone who was not already an archmage, it was always safer just to kneel and acknowledge the heir. Smooth successions were bloodless successions.
     
    What occurred recently with the Blackwater family was an exception. Tiberius had not been the designated heir. He successfully removed his father and eliminated not only the proper heir but all the other potential candidates in one daring move. When Tiberius declared himself family head, the rest of the Blackwater clan acquiesced, and the Council had acknowledged an established fact.
     
    Celton had no doubt his rivals dreamed of doing something similar. The problem was there was no trust. No one would dare conspire with anyone else for fear of being betrayed. And there were simply too many other strong mages and archmages for any single person to safely deal with.
     
    So what would happen when his father breathed his last?
     
    “Blood and chaos,” he muttered to himself.
     
    Celton thought of the pit fights held on the Winter Solstice. All the criminals in custody were handed a sword, pushed into a pit, and told to kill each other. They always hesitated at first, each one afraid of the rest. But then one would stab his neighbor, and they would all get the idea. The men would attack desperately, while trying to watch for those trying to come from behind. Some men would make impromptu alliances and help each other for a while. Usually those unions ended suddenly with one stabbing the other in the back. Things always wound up degenerating into a mindless frenzy without any sort of order. It was rather pointless, as the “winner” got fed to the zombies.
     
    Celton found these matches very entertaining. He did not, however, want to actually participate in one.
     
    He entered his room intending to relax a bit before going to bed. When he spotted a slip of folded paper on top of his pillow, he drew his wand and quickly cast a spell. He was relieved to discover there were no hidden wards or enchantments within his apartment. The door had been locked, but that meant little. Anyone with magic or a lock pick could have gotten in. Father did not allow anyone but himself to magically seal doors.
     
    Knowing there was no magic cast into the paper, Celton picked it up and unfolded it. “If you seek glory come alone to the corner of Centaur and Amber streets at the second hour past midnight.”
     
    Glory? That was not a word of often associated with the Poisondagger family. Lies, betrayals, and conspiracies were what its members were known for. Who had time for something as pretentious as glory?
     
    Was this a set up for an assassination? Someone wanting to draw him outside of the castle where it would be easier to get rid of him? Could it be an attempt to bring him into a plot? He did not