Elisha Rex by E.C. Ambrose Read Free Book Online Page A

chilled him, hand and heart, so that the parchment trembled, and Helena put her hand to his, steadying him with a touch and a confused glance at the page. “Mancer?” she said. “What does that mean?”
    Elisha started to answer, then broke off, his throat parched in an instant when he turned over the page. There, he stared at the broken seal, a round of wax impressed by the king’s signet—the ring that must have been taken from Thomas’s own hand.

Chapter 5

    E lisha traced the seal first with his eyes, then with one finger, the rough wax of the pattern catching on his calloused skin. He thought of Martin’s final claim, that Elisha was in love with the king, and his chest felt unbearably tight.
    â€œWhat is it, Elisha?” Helena asked. “I don’t understand.”
    His head jerked up. “Who gave you this?”
    The injured man gave a few twitches of his head. “G-g-g—”
    â€œHorseshit! More like to be the Devil.” He started to crumple the thing in his hand, then froze and kept it clenched, focusing his senses on the seal, trying to gain some knowledge of who had made it, and how they had come by Thomas’s ring. It showed him nothing but the same fearsome void Elisha felt when he had touched Morag, the mancer’s presence negated by the skin he wore, his very life denied by his intimacy with death. “Damn it!”
    â€œElisha, please,” Helena scolded, her hand reaching to cover the infant’s ear.
    Ysabeau, tucked against Helena’s side, whispered, “It’s the king’s seal, is it?”
    Pierced through his numbness, Elisha darted a glance toward Martin’s widow. Light-brown hair straggled about her shoulders, framing a face not as lovely as Helena’s, but open. Her eyes, though red from smoke and tears, watched him keenly.
    â€œI have to go to the duke,” Elisha told them. “You should rest. Both of you.”
    Helena turned to her companion. “Let me bring you to church, mistress, or to my house, if you’d rather. It’s full of children, but all are welcome.”
    Ysabeau’s lips compressed, and she shook her head sharply. “My house was empty; Martin sent the boys to his sister’s estate in the country a few weeks ago. As if he expected something.” Again, she eyed Elisha. “I will be praying about this, you can be sure. First, I’d like to be there when the duke’s men ride through and when the murderers go out.” She pulled together the torn front of her gown and crossed her arms tightly.
    â€œCome then, if you will, mistress, but we move quickly,” Elisha said, already setting out.
    â€œAye,” grumbled Madoc, “so quickly we sometimes outstrip our own bodyguard.”
    Elisha took long strides, and Martin’s wife, slightly taller than Elisha, and a good deal taller than her husband, easily kept pace at his side. He needed no magic to part the crowd this time, they fell away from him, those who had been marked by blood hiding their faces. The silence behind him dissolved, filling with the babble of a thousand witnesses who did not know what they had seen.
    â€œYou were his barber?” Ysabeau asked after another turning.
    â€œAye,” he answered. “Five years or more.”
    She snorted with amusement. “I wondered why he had his hair tended so often. I need wonder no longer.”
    â€œIt wasn’t like that, mistress.”
    â€œIt was for him.” She smiled a little. “We met at the assizes while he was studying mercantile law, and I attended the lectures disguised as a man, since women are not allowed to enroll.” Her smile broke into the laughter of remembrance. “He claimed he loved me right away, and he was dreadfully disappointed I turned out to be a woman. Then we both realized what a good match we might be. I think he still wishes—” The laughter faded as she took a sharp