Page 8 of The Dragon King
A smart move. “Then I will meet them in battle and protect your border.” One look at me and they would scatter like a pack of squirrels. I would raise an army of the dead to act as a barrier between their lands and the elves’—and no one would cross it. I probably wouldn’t even have to lift my sword.
“Under no circumstance are you to disturb the dead, Talon.”
“King Talon.” I wouldn’t allow another monarch to belittle my power, not after everything I’d done to earn it. “If you want me to respect your crown, then you will respect mine. If you’re unwilling to do that, then I’ll leave you to be overrun by these creatures. Khazmuda and I will find the dragons—eventually.”
She sat with her arms on the armrests, her blue eyes angry in provocation. But she didn’t refute my request. “You can’t callupon the dead to fight for you. They’ve been disturbed once, and I won’t allow you to disturb them again.”
“Then you shouldn’t have asked the Death King for aid.”
She continued her angry stare.
I stared back.
“I will not change my mind, King Talon.”
“Then you expect me to defeat an army of elves without magic or Khazmuda.”
Her intelligent eyes were pointed but veiled, the truth of her thoughts shrouded in mystery.
I felt the smile move across my lips. “Or you expect me not to…”
“If you’re nothing without your curse and your ally, then perhaps you’re nothing as well.”
“Perhaps.” I felt the smile slowly fade away. “I will defend your forest—without the dead. And when I’m victorious, you will kneel before me and thank me before your subjects. Are we in agreement?”
She could express so much with just her gaze. For a beautiful woman, she could look so vicious, her eyes like daggers in that pretty face. Her hatred cut through flesh and bone, a storm cloud that billowed around her. “Yes.”
“When your men are ready to march, so will I.”
General Ezra presented my sword and scabbard in his open arms.
I took it and secured it across my back where my cape was attached to my armor.
Then he presented my dagger and bow.
I took them and returned them to my body.
Then he presented another dagger, the hilt the color of his dark hair and the blade solid black. “The blade is short, but the heft is substantial. Can pierce most armor if it’s used in the correct manner.”
I eyed it before I took it.
“A gift from my queen.”
“An odd gift to bestow upon someone you hope doesn’t return.”
The general ignored my words and walked off.
Calista came to me next, the storm clouds of worry so heavy in her gaze it looked like it would rain. “I don’t like this.”
“Nor do I.”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t do it.”
“The dark elves march as we speak. Even if your queen offered me nothing in return, I would still fight—not for her, but for you.”
A sad affection moved into her eyes. “I want to come with you.”
The statement was so ridiculous I didn’t even respond to it.