Chapter Five
So many questions.
Ezra had left Segreti with much reluctance. Although he chided himself for his growing attachment, he seemed incapable of reason and found himself longing to be near Segreti, to feel his strong arms wrapped around him, to taste his kisses and feel his desire. Heat filled Ezra’s cheeks, and he quickened his pace on the way to his cottage. Segreti would be like the others. They all relished the idea of being with him until the reality of what Ezra was became too great.
Segreti’s words echoed in his head. I’m here. I have you. Where others had balked or run, Segreti had rushed to his side, ready to catch him should he fall. Perhaps Segreti was different. And yet Ezra had sensed fear in him when the Eye had spoken. Ezra opened the door and entered his cottage as the Eye spoke to him in his mind.
“Segreti’s fear was for you, not of you.”
Ezra stilled. It was rare for the Eye to commune with him rather than through him, so when it did, Ezra listened. He turned to the Eye hovering over its velvet pillow.
“For me?”
“Like many, he fears the power of the Eye, but unlike most, he does not fear its wielder.”
Was it possible? Ezra waved a hand in dismissal. “That’s neither here nor there. We have greater concerns.”
“Indeed. The murder of the Soldati king, destruction of the Soldati realm, and annihilation of the human world must take precedence over your lingering chasteness.”
Ezra crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the Eye. “What manner of company are you keeping these days? I’m not certain I approve.” The Eye remained silent. How very convenient. Ezra paced as he thought. Someone was going to kill Khalon in two days if they didn’t do something. If the traitors were here, they must be found. He stilled and turned to the Eye. “Come. We must hunt.”
Opening the door, Ezra waited for the Eye to exit before closing the door behind him. His hand froze on the doorknob, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He was being watched.
“I think another visit to the herb tent is in order,” he said to no one in particular. Speaking to himself or the Eye was a common occurrence, and no one would think anything of it. He headed through the garden toward the festival grounds, eyes still on him. “A visit to the book tent is also in order. Perhaps I’ll start there.” He greeted villagers along the way, all the while aware of the presence following him. Stopping at a flower stand, he smiled at the foxling family and complimented them on their beautiful arrangements. He made the usual agreement of purchasing any flowers left once the festival had ended. He always had use for flowers.
Inhaling the wonderful scent of lavender from a lovely bouquet, he discreetly glanced around him. Nothing. With a smile and a bow of his head, he left the flower stand and headed for the book tent, confident his shadow wouldn’t be so foolish as to follow him inside. The tent was busy, and Ezra was well versed in concealing himself. The Soldati weren’t warriors in name alone.
Slipping out the back of the tent, he shifted in the blink of an eye and darted into a thicket of nearby shrubs, his great tiger mass swallowed by the shadows. The Eye remained near his flank, its golden sheen dimmed so as not to give away their position. With sharp feline eyes, he scanned the festival grounds. There were many Orso scattered among the crowd; some were villagers from the Orso realm, others warriors. Ezra crouched low to the ground, his body still. He flattened his ears against his head, his razor-sharp claws extending as he sensed a menacing presence.
“Can you see anything?” he asked the Eye with his mind.
The Eye remained silent.
Slowly Ezra stalked the festival grounds, using the trees and shrubbery, as well as the many tents, barrels, boxes, and wagons to conceal himself. The scent of his fellow Soldati warriors filled the air, along with the distinct heady mix belonging to the many foxlings. Ezra’s keen sense of smell caught a whiff of an Orso, and he swiftly set off on the hunt. His muscles tensed as he stopped behind a small area sectioned off for archery. Several Orso and Soldati tested their skills, each side teasing and laughing boisterously.
“Anything?” Ezra asked hopefully. Still no response. With a quiet huff, Ezra retreated. He no longer felt eyes on him. The traitors had to be here somewhere. A chill swept through Ezra as the Eye pulsed.
“Seek out Segreti.”
The urgency in the Eye’s voice had Ezra darting through the trees, nose to the air and mouth open as he searched out Segreti’s scent. Was Segreti in danger? If anyone so much as laid a claw on him, Ezra would tear them limb from limb! He skidded to a halt at his unexpected thoughts. What in the name of the Goddess was the matter with him? His ferocity wasn’t a surprise. He’d defend his king, his prince, and his kingdom with all the power he possessed, but when had Segreti become his to defend?
“Find Segreti. Now.”
With a huff, he took off in search of Segreti, refusing to think about how he was coming to see the Orso general as his.
What a beautiful day. The sounds of the festival’s commencement filled the air and an ocean of guests flooded the field, their excited voices carrying in the summer breeze. In the distance near the archery games, Segreti spotted several Orso warriors, a small group of which huddled together. The thought that his former Orso warriors might be traitors both pained him and angered him. When Pavoni had come to power, his army had been filled with uncertainty. The more time that passed under Pavoni’s rule, the more their army’s loyalty diverted to Segreti, leaving only a few to embrace Pavoni’s tyranny. Most of Pavoni’s supporters had left after his demise, but a select few remained in their kingdom, hidden, plotting. Rogue Orso warriors weren’t his only concern. For months now he suspected someone in Queen Verity’s court was helping the traitors. They seemed to always be one step ahead of Queen Verity’s Orso, a feat only achieved with help from within the court.
Segreti neared the group, grinning when a friendly face shouted boisterously at his approach. Fausti was a noble warrior who had often been found at Segreti’s side. A young Orso, eager to learn, always honorable.
“General!” Fausti threw his arms out as he approached Segreti, his seemingly boundless energy never failing to bring a smile to Segreti.
“Retired general,” Segreti reminded him, laughing when Fausti drew him into a fierce embrace. Fausti might be young, but he was nearly as big as Segreti. After his retirement, Segreti remained close to Fausti, keeping an eye on him, offering council, and most importantly, attempting to keep him out of trouble. A futile endeavor.
“Speaking of retirement, I heard the Soldati have welcomed you into their realm. Is it true the king invited you to live in his kingdom?” Vestri asked, smiling wide as he greeted Segreti. Gori and Lazzari followed with hearty embraces of their own while Coiro and Basso merely nodded in greeting. They were good warriors but had always been reserved, keeping to themselves.
“He has,” Segreti replied. He’d been as surprised as the rest of them when Khalon offered him a place in his kingdom where he could peacefully live out the rest of his immortal life. It was given freely, but not given to many.
Lazzari whistled. “That’s quite the honor. Few have been extended such an invitation.”