Over the last few days, I forgot about my friend, and I forgot about Hector’s cruelty when he made me witness the execution.
My pulse thrums at the base of my throat as I pick up the parchment and read.
Sol can never know why I came here. I implore you, my dear wife to never tell her.
My chest burns, and my fingers tremble as I look away and take a deep breath before turning back and reading more.
Once you read this, I will be gone. The Bloodstone will never allow me to live once they discover my secrets. It is you I regret hurting the most. You I regret leaving. You that must bear the weight of my sins.
The door swings open, and my breath catches when it’s not Hector. A blond-haired man stands in the doorway wearing studded armor.
Needles of apprehension stab my skin as I slip the parchment back in the satchel and rise to my feet.
“What do you want?” I ask coolly.
I don’t have to be nice when he just stepped into my sanctuary.
He glares, his eyes like daggers.
Chills slice up and down my back like icy fingers ghosting against my skin.
Before I have time to digest his intrusion, he pulls a dagger from his weapon belt. Alarm slams against my chest as I scramble for a terracotta jar and slam it into the wall, shattering the pottery all over the floor. I yank up one of the larger fragments, holding it like a dagger.
The man shows no emotion, no reaction. He continues to stare through me.
I crouch and brace myself for his attack.
He takes one step. Then another.
My heart pounds harder and harder against my ribs as I remain frozen, my pottery fragment raised. The man stops when he’s inches from me.
He swings his dagger in a quick arc toward my face. I jerk back, avoiding the blade as the door slams open further, and Hector fills the opening.
“Get away from her,” he says, his words lined with more anger than I have ever heard from him.
Taken aback by the tall, angry barbarian, my attacker pauses. I lurch forward and slam my jagged pottery into the man’s throat. He grunts and shoves me away.
Hector closes the space between us quicker than a breath, reaches out, and breaks the man’s neck. I gasp as the stranger crumbles to the ground, his eyes forever vacant.
As Hector kneels and examines the body, I move until the backs of my legs hit the mattress and sink to the bed.
After Hector finishes, he rises to his feet. “What did he want?”
I jerk my attention to the dead man. His serpent coat of arms glares up at me, mocks me.
Now, the Bloodstone are attacking me!
Why?
“What did he say to you?” Hector asks, drawing me back to him.
“He didn’t speak.” I gulp in a quick breath.
“Hades!” Hector moves to the door and calls out for Cenric.
After his third call, Cenric joins us and stares down at the body.
Threads of humor twinkle in his eyes. “Hector, didn’t I caution you against killing people in every city we visit?”
