The Warrior King: Book Three of the Seer King Trilogy by Chris Bunch Read Free Book Online Page A

great rage came, aimed at I didn’t know who. Berda, for letting his daughter whore? His wife? The shit-heel Grand Council? The emperor? Or the gods themselves? I forced control.
    Lynton had evidently been waiting for me to say something, and looked alarmed when I didn’t.
    “Come,” she whispered. “In here’s my room.”
    I followed her, and my rage vanished as I entered a little girl’s playroom, still with its dolls on a shelf, a few yellowing, childish chalks and, incongruously, a full-size double bed, no doubt added when Lynton began selling herself.
    She lit two candles against the growing dusk, took the parcels from me, and unwrapped them.
    “I’ll get a plate for you,” she said, still in a whisper. “And something to drink?”
    “Water,” I managed, and stared down at the viands I’d thought would give me a fine meal. My appetite was gone. Lynton came back with a goblet, fine crystal, chipped at its base, and utensils.
    “Sit down,” she said. “Here, let me cut the sausage for you.”
    “No. Tell me something,” I said, knowing the answer. “Those people out there are your parents, aren’t they?”
    She nodded.
    “What will they be dining on?”
    Lynton was surprised.
    “We … they still have some bread left from last night. And Mam made soup two nights ago.”
    “Take them this,” I indicated what lay before me. “And here.” I took a silver coin from my sack. “If your father drinks wine, have him buy a bottle for himself.”
    “But … you — ”
    “I suddenly remembered this is one of my family god’s days,” I said. “When I’m supposed to fast, and surely I’ve done enough already in this life to not want to anger her more.”
    Lynton hesitated.
    “Go on, girl,” I ordered, and she obeyed.
    I lay on the bed, wondering what I would do next. She came back, looked at me, and smiled.
    “We thank you,” she said. “You’re a good man.”
    I shook my head.
    “No,” I said, trying to keep anger from my voice. “I’m afraid there aren’t any left, these days.”
    She sat on the bed, put a hand on my leg.
    “Yes, there are,” she said gently. She stood and slowly began unbuttoning her dress. “You’ll like me,” she said. “I swear you will. I’ll do anything you want me to … and I’ll like it. Anything.”
    The dress dropped about her ankles, and she stepped out of it. She wore only a thin slip under it, and hooked her fingers in its straps, let it fall away. Her naked body was unworn, fair, with small breasts and the merest curl of hair around her sex.
    My cock stirred. It had been … how long, I couldn’t remember, since I’d been with a woman. Since … great gods, since I’d made love to Alegria, the night she died, long ago and far away in the frozen
suebi
of Maisir. Strangely, I would have thought the memory would’ve dashed my ardor, but it didn’t. Alegria, the greatest love of my life; Marán, my former wife; Amiel Kalvedon, who loved us both, all were now slipping into memory, and I realized enough time had passed, and their memories would have no more power to rule my life, for good or evil, than other remembrances.
    I wanted to stand, take off my peasant’s attire, and woo this girl, this nude woman who stood waiting.
    Instead, I took her hand and sat her down beside me. Then I went to my sack, took out the promised two silver coins, added a third.
    “I’m one of those,” I said, “who likes things different.”
    Lynton tried to hide a look of fear. She licked her lips.
    “I said anything, and anything I meant,” she said.
    “What I like,” I said, “is to watch women sleep.”
    “What?”
    “When I was a boy,” I lied, “I used to look through a crack in the wall at a neighbor girl. She was older than I was, so of course she never knew I existed. Every night she’d prepare herself for bed, combing her hair, which was dark, like yours, and then lie down, naked, and look at something I couldn’t see. Maybe it was a picture of