Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
Seph dragged himself from his fellow priest only to run into something.
He looked behind him and up.
His back was against a set of legs and another priest that had traveled with Fenn was glowering down at him.
Fenn’s voice came back to him.
“You are relieved of command.”
His gaze snapped toward Fenn. “You cannot relieve me of command. You don’t have the authority. Only the Golden Thomas has that authority.”
Fenn tipped his head to the side.
“I do not?” he asked. “That is most odd, considering I was dispatched on this journey for that purpose by Thom. Though not solely for that purpose as I’ve also been ordered to take up your command and find some way to repair the damage you have wrought.”
Seph scooted away from the man who was blocking his path and pushed himself to his feet.
“I heard no word of this,” he declared, his eyes on Fenn, but his attention was also on the four priests with him.
He should not have come alone.
Though how could he know he’d face such as this?
It was unthinkable.
“Yes, you did. I just told you,” Fenn replied.
Seph lifted his chin. “It is not you who communicates my orders. I get them from Thom direct.”
“Where’s Drey?” Fenn asked suddenly, making Seph’s stomach pitch again.
“Drey?” he inquired in return in order to buy some time for Seph was not heartened by this change of subject.
“Drey. G’Drey. The priest I sent to you from the gilded city to assist with The Rising. The one whose arse you whipped to the point there was no healthy skin left,” Fenn explained.
Oh, but he would find the soldier who had shared so freely, and they would learn his way how not to betray your command.
“I do not know,” Seph spat. “The last I heard was that he met an accident on the way to the school.”
“Did you know he’s my chosen one?” Fenn queried.
By Bedi.
This simply got worse and worse.
“No,” Seph forced out his lie.
“He sends no birds. No messages,” Fenn shared. “It’s most peculiar. Handsome, but so needy, my Drey. His father took being Dellish to rather an extreme. And thus Drey…” He shook his head. “So misunderstood. This is a lesson for you, Seph. For it took not much effort before I had but to look upon Drey with the expression I’d trained him to read, and he’d be down on his knees, sucking my cock precisely as I enjoy it most. He did this knowing I’d then fuck him precisely how he enjoyed it most. The carrot, Seph. Almost always, it leads to satisfactory results. Sadly, it got to the point where Drey was so eager to please, I’d become weary from it and needed some distance. Therefore, I sent him to you. However, I did so knowing eventually I’d want him back.”
Seph swallowed and took a step away.
Fenn took that step with him.
As did the others.
Yes, this simply got worse and worse.
“And he did not participate in the mass exodus you perpetrated with the ignorance of your command,” Fenn continued. “He was gone before you failed so spectacularly after being given such a golden opportunity. Having every important personage in Triton under one roof and hundreds of men trained and at the ready to strike a blow for The Rising that would have been felt throughout all Triton.”
Seph kept moving, as did Fenn and the others, and he did it snapping, “I did not fail. It was not me who scaled the palace walls.”
Fenn shook his head even as he replied, “I’m now seeing the problem. You give the command to sally into battle, success is not yours, it’s your men’s. But failure, G’Seph, if the men find failure, that is always the providence of the general.”
He did not have to take a lecture from the likes of Fenn.
Seph was practically there that day so many years ago that The Rising was conceived.
Fenn was but a boy back then, not a priest, not Go’Doan.
He was nothing then.
And he was nothing now.
Fenn could not tell him what his providence was.
At his end, Seph stood still and demanded, “Cease moving.”
The men did.
That was more like it.
Seph drew breath into his nose. “We shall return to the Dome City, after the assassination is carried forward on King Wilmer that I planned, an incident that will force Prince True to—”
“This attack has been abandoned,” Fenn told him. “The servant you commissioned to administer the poison has been persuaded to take it instead. In the jumble of the procession breaking up into four different parties, I assume his death will not be noted for some time.”
By the true gods.
“The procession breaking up?” Seph asked, and Fenn smiled.
“Ah, brother G’Seph,” he said jovially, as if someone told him something he found most amusing. “Your foolishness knows no bounds. You haven’t even noted how truly they all dislike you and how little they trust you. They’ve ridden in four separate directions. Liam and Jell know of this, and they rode with Wilmer to the castle.”