the cauldron of fire below.
The rebels were ecstatic to see the murderous and depraved Sade dispatched this way and they cheered Talon accordingly. But when a number of overly enthusiastic rebels started to climb the boulder to embrace and thank him, he jumped down to the sand and began rapidly walking away from the fire. He wasn’t up to being fawned over or extolled, and the image of sweet Alana and the question of how to depose Cromwell still overshadowed whatever he had accomplished here. Besides, he still faced the challenge of liberating Alana’s brother and he had better get on with it. Certainly these young, bedraggled insurgents weren’t going to do him any good; they looked as if they had been through ten sieges in a row and needed a week’s sleep. He would enlist his own men for the rescue of Alana’s brother—that is if he could locate the particular brothel they were no doubt whoring in.
But the euphoric rebels would not let him escape so easily. They surrounded him, blocking his path and showered him with praise. Rodrigo pushed his way through the milling crowd to the stranger. “Please wait, sir!” he implored. “We owe you our lives! How can we ever repay you?”
“For the moment, by getting out of my way. I have another equally important mission to handle.”
Rodrigo motioned that the throng part and Talon continued along the beach. But Rodrigo walked by his side, determined to find out more about this mysterious man. The rest of the rebels trailed close behind the pair, both Talon and Rodrigo taking long, measured strides.
“I’m Rodrigo, leader of this group of rebels. Who are you, my friend?”
Talon kept up the fast pace, still reluctant to break his anonymity.
Rodrigo was perplexed by this handsome warrior’s reticence to talk. But all the great leaders were known to be moody and unpredictable. And there was no doubt in his mind that this young man of wonders could prove to be the decisive catalyst in overthrowing Cromwell. Or was he already in Mikah’s and Alana’s service?
“What should we do?” Rodrigo asked, suspecting that the stranger just might have orders from the heir apparent to the throne.
“Whatever you want.”
“But don’t you have any orders for us from Mikah?”
Talon felt a little eddy of warmth inside his chest at the mention of Mikah. He had not seen his childhood friend in more than eleven years. Would they recognize each other when they finally did meet? “From Mikah? No. None.”
Rodrigo was crestfallen. The inscrutable and imperious-looking warrior obviously wished to be left alone. Rodrigo stopped, as did his men. But Talon forged ahead without once looking back.
Still Rodrigo could not let this potentially invaluable ally slip away so easily. “Take us with you, sir!” he shouted after him. “I’m sure we’re on the same side!”
“Go home!” Talon shouted back. “Your men look starved, tired and in dire need of rest! You’ll fight another day!”
Rodrigo and his men stood watching the proud stranger fade into the night, bewildered and disappointed. Kabal, the young sentry who had guarded the mouth of the cave, pushed up beside Rodrigo.
“Where’s he going?” he asked his leader.
“Into another battle, I suspect. Did you not hear him say, ‘I have another equally important mission to handle’?”
“Did he say anything about what we should do?” the youth persisted.
“He told us to go home. I think he believes we’re too battle-weary to be of service to him.”
Rodrigo turned around and faced his ragged band of improvised soldiers. “What say you, men? Are we too weak and sissified by war to be of service to the man who saved our lives?”
“No!” they roared back in unison.
“Then let’s hurry after him or we’ll miss out on the rebellion!”
ELEVEN
rom the outside, with its gleaming gold walls and Gothic spires piercing the midnight heavens, Cromwell’s castle was the epitome of serenity in stone. Built on a
The rebels were ecstatic to see the murderous and depraved Sade dispatched this way and they cheered Talon accordingly. But when a number of overly enthusiastic rebels started to climb the boulder to embrace and thank him, he jumped down to the sand and began rapidly walking away from the fire. He wasn’t up to being fawned over or extolled, and the image of sweet Alana and the question of how to depose Cromwell still overshadowed whatever he had accomplished here. Besides, he still faced the challenge of liberating Alana’s brother and he had better get on with it. Certainly these young, bedraggled insurgents weren’t going to do him any good; they looked as if they had been through ten sieges in a row and needed a week’s sleep. He would enlist his own men for the rescue of Alana’s brother—that is if he could locate the particular brothel they were no doubt whoring in.
But the euphoric rebels would not let him escape so easily. They surrounded him, blocking his path and showered him with praise. Rodrigo pushed his way through the milling crowd to the stranger. “Please wait, sir!” he implored. “We owe you our lives! How can we ever repay you?”
“For the moment, by getting out of my way. I have another equally important mission to handle.”
Rodrigo motioned that the throng part and Talon continued along the beach. But Rodrigo walked by his side, determined to find out more about this mysterious man. The rest of the rebels trailed close behind the pair, both Talon and Rodrigo taking long, measured strides.
“I’m Rodrigo, leader of this group of rebels. Who are you, my friend?”
Talon kept up the fast pace, still reluctant to break his anonymity.
Rodrigo was perplexed by this handsome warrior’s reticence to talk. But all the great leaders were known to be moody and unpredictable. And there was no doubt in his mind that this young man of wonders could prove to be the decisive catalyst in overthrowing Cromwell. Or was he already in Mikah’s and Alana’s service?
“What should we do?” Rodrigo asked, suspecting that the stranger just might have orders from the heir apparent to the throne.
“Whatever you want.”
“But don’t you have any orders for us from Mikah?”
Talon felt a little eddy of warmth inside his chest at the mention of Mikah. He had not seen his childhood friend in more than eleven years. Would they recognize each other when they finally did meet? “From Mikah? No. None.”
Rodrigo was crestfallen. The inscrutable and imperious-looking warrior obviously wished to be left alone. Rodrigo stopped, as did his men. But Talon forged ahead without once looking back.
Still Rodrigo could not let this potentially invaluable ally slip away so easily. “Take us with you, sir!” he shouted after him. “I’m sure we’re on the same side!”
“Go home!” Talon shouted back. “Your men look starved, tired and in dire need of rest! You’ll fight another day!”
Rodrigo and his men stood watching the proud stranger fade into the night, bewildered and disappointed. Kabal, the young sentry who had guarded the mouth of the cave, pushed up beside Rodrigo.
“Where’s he going?” he asked his leader.
“Into another battle, I suspect. Did you not hear him say, ‘I have another equally important mission to handle’?”
“Did he say anything about what we should do?” the youth persisted.
“He told us to go home. I think he believes we’re too battle-weary to be of service to him.”
Rodrigo turned around and faced his ragged band of improvised soldiers. “What say you, men? Are we too weak and sissified by war to be of service to the man who saved our lives?”
“No!” they roared back in unison.
“Then let’s hurry after him or we’ll miss out on the rebellion!”
ELEVEN
rom the outside, with its gleaming gold walls and Gothic spires piercing the midnight heavens, Cromwell’s castle was the epitome of serenity in stone. Built on a
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