To overthrow the cruel King who brutally slaughtered her foremothers, the last surviving water witch Elara Consuli must team up with novice warrior Juda Vikaris from the Serpent Order and realise an ancient prophecy, before the blood-thirsty ruler d...
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The novice was lying. He had to be.
Never in her life had Elara heard of a novice of the Serpent Order admitting to such treason. It was just not possible. To endure the training. The agonising tests and trials. The heinous acts they committed upon the people, all in the King's name.
And this one expected her to believe now that it was all fraud?
It was not. It was merely the blade at his throat and the powerful threat of the water that had forced his tongue to speak such lies. There was no mission to assassinate Ban-Keren. Just a mission to save his own pitiful life.
Pressing the flat of the blade down on his throat, Elara slammed her palm down on the rock by the side of his head and lowered her body so she could look into his eyes.
The novice looked like any other. The triple row of braids bound his hair tightly to the side of his head, the rest of his long locks tied at the back. The Batak oil scar slashed across a Highguard's eyes always lent them an immediate air of cruelty, emblematic of the darkness within, but in this beast's face, Elara saw a wildly dangerous edge. Release him and he would kill her, and probably enjoy it too. He was untameable. Feral. As poisonous to her as the water was to him.
'I credit you, novice,' she said. 'A noble speech. Then again, I would expect nothing less for your final words. I would even go as far as to say you might have been wasted in the Order. A stage would be more worthy of your skills. The King's theatre would no doubt have benefitted from your fine acting.'
'You think me a liar?' he said, through gritted teeth.
She felt the undulation of his throat under the blade as he swallowed hard.
'I think you are a liar and a murderer.'
'Is it really murder if its right and just?'
Elara sat up, rocking back on her heels, but kept the tip of her dagger at his throat. 'Right and just?' She laughed. 'Is that how they tell you to justify your crimes, drouzka? It is right and just to kill this man, by Ban-Keren it is.'
'No, not by Ban-Keren. By my blood, witch. The blood you would gladly now see spilled on this rock.'
Elara stiffened, a vein of fury pulsing through her. 'Glad? You think I would be glad to taint this sacred place with your filthy blood? This place which was once full of worship and peace and beauty. This place that was once so full of life and love, until your false King destroyed everything. Until he ripped my foremothers from their beds and sent the rest of us into hiding, forcing us to deny our true hearts to avoid the cruel and unjust blade of his exalted Highguards? Do not speak to me of what is right, because you do not even know the meaning of the word.'
The novice shifted his weight underneath her and she pressed firmer into him, pushing the blade upwards until a bead of blood surfaced on his throat. His chest heaved, ragged with breath.
