Angelaeon Circle 2 - Eye of the Sword by Karyn Henley Read Free Book Online

donkey.”
    “Don’t insult Persephone. She got you home, didn’t she?”
    Trevin unrolled the scroll and scanned it. “It’s a list of accounts.”
    “Written in Dreg,” said Dwin.
    “You noticed. Did you read it?”
    “Enough to know Hesel’s a gash runner. Some accounts are obviously paid in coin. Other payments I can’t make out. You’re better at Dreg than I am.”
    Trevin read aloud, “Sheep. Goats.” He frowned at the next word.
Tohdlit
. He read it again to be certain.
Tohdlit
. The hair on his neck prickled. “Children.” He scanned the scroll a third time. “They’re trading gash for children.”
    Dwin rose to one elbow, frowning. “You sure?”
    Trevin shook the scroll at him. “You tell no one but Jarrod about this until I can show it to the king. The fewer who know what you’ve been up to, the better.”

    Trevin had hoped to go to the aerie with Melaia the next morning and put the Dregmoorians out of his mind and hers, but the information in the scroll could not wait. Hesel had to be exposed. No doubt Varic would claim he knew nothing about gash running, but Hesel’s guilt would stain the prince’s credibility.
    Trevin requested an audience with King Laetham. When the king put him off, he requested a meeting with Melaia. When she finally sent word that she was not free to see him, he trudged to the stable yard and concentrated on his original task for the day—appraising three horses.
    He watched them browse. A feisty carob-brown mare. A fine black gelding. A gaunt-shouldered white stallion.
    Comains usually knew their mounts long before they were appointed to their posts. Trevin knew as well, but Pym had questioned his choice, as had Dwin, Jarrod, and even Melaia. So Trevin studied the horses once more. His choice was the same.
    Pym ambled up. “You’ve decided. I can see it in your eyes.”
    “The white,” said Trevin. “Almaron.”
    “I could see that too.”
    As if in agreement, the stallion approached Trevin.
    “For a stallion he’s more agreeable than most,” said Pym. “I’ll see that he’s ready for you this afternoon.”
    Trevin ran his hand along Almaron’s neck. Pym had found him half-starvedwith two slash wounds, one on each shoulder. Although Pym had nursed the horse back to health, the scars gave him an odd look.
    “We’ve both seen our share of trials,” said Trevin. “You’ve proved your worth.” He patted Almaron. At least one of them wouldn’t need to prove himself.

    In midafternoon, from the arched entrance of Redcliff, Trevin surveyed the valley that spread out below the city. Gray banners with the king’s white lion emblem billowed atop poles that bordered the main road across the bridge and into the valley beyond. A crowd swarmed the path and encircled the field where the appointing would take place.
    Trevin recognized the long spiral of two dark birds riding the wind above the distant hills. Draks. He looked toward the aerie and regretted not being able to meet Melaia there. Maybe tomorrow.
    Sensing the warm brown presence of Jarrod, Trevin turned. “Draks are back.”
    Jarrod shaded his eyes and studied the sky. “Not surprising, I suppose, since the Dregmoorians are here.”
    “Does Rejius scry through the birds’ eyes?”
    “Or one of his lackeys does. The Firstborn no doubt licks his wounds while he prepares another attack.”
    And the Second-born?
Trevin wondered. “What about Benasin? Where is he?”
    “My father’s whereabouts are anyone’s guess, but he’ll rise again as well. The feud is far from over.” Jarrod eyed Trevin. “Did you and Dwin settle accounts?”
    “Dwin and I have a truce of sorts,” said Trevin, “but he worries me.”
    “Where is he now?”
    “At the field. He’s determined to play the spy. He thinks it’s all excitement and glory. He has no idea of the risks involved.”
    Jarrod chuckled and headed to the field. “I’ll speak to him.”
    “Your mount, Main Trevin,” called Pym, leading Almaron