The Conqueror's Shadow by Ari Marmell Read Free Book Online

short but not squat. He wore over his shoulders an embroidered cloth that would, on a woman, have been called a shawl, but which he himself insisted was a mantle.
    For just a moment, Corvis grimaced. This visit likely meant news from outside, from the world beyond Chelenshire—news Corvis was never glad to receive. Every time he heard of the kingdom beyond, of the political wrangling and Guild maneuvering and cultural decay, he couldn’t help but wonder, ever so briefly, if the world would be better off had he not given up all those years ago, and if it were he who ruled from the halls of Mecepheum.
    Then he would look at his home, or his wife, or his children, and his regrets would fade.
    Until the next time.
    â€œAnd a good day to you, Tolliver,” Corvis called, swiftly gathering his thoughts as the man drew nearer. He breathed shallowly, for the scent of the man’s acrid sweat preceded him by several paces. “Rather a warm day for a stroll, isn’t it?”
    â€œYou have no idea,” the town mediator gasped at him, leaning one hand heavily upon the fence post between them and gulping in great, heaving breaths. His face was red from the heat and the exertion ofwhat was, for him, a lengthy walk. “I’m rather astounded that I haven’t just melted on the spot.”
    â€œThat,” Corvis remarked sagely, “would be a large spot indeed.”
    Tolliver glared at him, panting. “It’s all very well for you to make fun, scrawny as you are. You’ve little enough to fear from heat, after all. Three or four drops of sweat are enough to cool you completely.”
    â€œI can’t sweat,” Corvis told him. “Scrawny as I am, people mistake it for crying, and then I can’t go anywhere for the constant offers of help and sympathy. I tell you, it’s a burden.”
    That glare lasted a moment longer, and then the mediator’s face burst into a beaming grin. “That’s what I like about you, Cerris! You’ve a sense of humor!”
    â€œOh, is that what you like about me? I’d wondered.” He gestured toward the house. “All joking aside, it is hot out here. Can I offer you something?”
    â€œMost kind, thank you.”
    They were perhaps ten paces from the house when Lilander, shrieking happily, raced past them from around the corner. Corvis had just long enough to recognize what was about to happen, but insufficient time to do a thing about it.
    With a gleeful laugh, his daughter appeared from around the same corner, the bucket of water clenched in both fists. The liquid missile left the bucket before she registered Tolliver’s presence, and by then, of course, it was far too late. With a remarkable show of speed and agility, she’d vanished back around the house before either her father or his guest finished blinking the water from their eyes. Lilander, recognizing that the game had taken something of an unexpected turn, bolted the other way.
    â€œI see your children are feeling well,” Tolliver said, his voice dry—the only part of him that was, at that point.
    â€œOnly until I get hold of them,” Corvis muttered. “Mellorin and Lilander. Ha! I should have named them Maukra and Mimgol!”
    Tolliver blanched and offered a swift sign against evil. “I wish you’d not speak those names aloud, Cerris. No point in tempting fate, is there?”
    â€œMy apologies, Tolliver. For my slip, and for my children’s actions.”
    The other man smiled good-naturedly. “Well, they’re hardly as badas the Children of Apocalypse, for all that. Truth to tell, Cerris, the water’s as welcome as anything else. I haven’t felt this cool since I left my house this morning.”
    â€œIs there any particular reason,” Tyannon asked from a nearby chair as they passed over the threshold, “you’re dripping so profusely on my floor?”
    â€œTiniest cloudburst in