Schism: The Battle for Darracia (Book 1) by Michael Phillip Cash Read Free Book Online

intensity. He was barely a Darracian. Pacuto sneered as he watched the Quyroo girl follow his regal cousin toward the door.
    Where is he going, and why with that servant? Pacuto wondered. He stopped a servant and took a steaming drink, gulping it with satisfaction. Watching her swaying behind, he smiled, baring his pointed teeth. He had a Quyroo servant girl at home too and licked his lips as he thought of her. She was waiting for him in his chambers, chained to his bed. It was forbidden to keep servants chained, but Pacuto used his position to do as he pleased. Who would be stupid enough to report him anyway? He had left her early this morning, after having used her all night. She wasn’t as pretty as the queen’s girl, though. He’d like to wipe the smile off that one’s face. She was always at Reminda’s side. No one could get to the queen without first speaking to that Quyroo. He saw her superior attitude when his sisters served the queen. He would have to see if he could get her alone. Yes, he’d ruin that condescending smirk he thought, fingering his dagger.
    Pacuto grabbed another glass, but when he raised his hand to drink it, Staf stayed his arm. “I need you to be alert tonight.”
    “ What?” Pacuto held up the light-green drink. “I can drink ten of them and it won’t affect me!” he boasted. His eyes followed the queen’s servant, and he sneered.
    “ Humor me.” Staf observed his son with detached amusement. “Tomorrow you can drink yourself to hell, and I won’t say anything. You can get drunk with that one chained to your bed.” Staf gestured toward Tulani. “To your reward,” he said, as he tossed back the liquor.
    “ That was mine,” Pacuto complained.
    “ We need V’sair to remain here,” his father said gruffly, his narrowed gaze following the prince.
    “ What will you do?”
    “ This will delay things.” He walked to the throne and placed a hand on its golden arm. “A delay!” he cursed under his breath.
    Countess Beatha glided over to her husband and son. Sensing discord she placed her fingers on his arm , stopping him. “Something is wrong?” She had slits for eyes, her mouth a purple rictus of hate. She was older than her husband by a dozen moon phases, a general’s daughter as well as his cousin. Originally betrothed to his brother, the king, he was forced to marry her when Drakko had wed the Planta female. Though he never had wanted her, her dowry had included all of her father’s lands and a few outer planets. When the old man died, she inherited so many men of arms that Staf became the most powerful general on all of Darracia. She had given him only one son, Pacuto, but also four daughters who would bring him good alliances. Staf and Beatha had groomed Pacuto his whole life. He was the greatest warrior on the planet and had achieved the highest level when he had taken his Fireblade. It was still talked about three years later. Their combined lust for power had created a super Darracian, one who would be worthy of leadership, Sradda willing.
    “ She sent the boy on an errand,” Staf told Beatha.
    “ This complicates things. Will you put it off?” she demanded.
    He turned to her, his eyes glittering like obsidian. “I cannot. Everyone is in place. Every commander has been ordered to the palace tonight to welcome the Quyroo delegation. We’ll never have another chance like this. We go tonight.” His eyes blazed with an inner fire.
    “ My father always said, ‘Divide and conquer.’ Send Pacuto to follow him. He can dispose of them both by himself.”
    “ I cannot take a chance that V’sair might escape,” Staf responded, his voice curt.
    “ Pacuto will make sure he doesn’t.”
    “ He is my second-in-command. He should be here by my side,” Staf murmured. “He is my heir.”
    “ Our heir. I will be here to take my place at your side; he can join us later,” Beatha continued, her voice filled with venom. “This is to be my victory too. I should be