Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [82]
He put the dagger to the boy’s throat, steeling his heart against the boy’s sobbing. There were no more pleas for mercy, much to his relief. He hated the boy’s tears, for they made him realize the boy was younger than he looked. For a moment Caelan wavered. But then he remembered all that he had suffered, and his fingers tightened around the dagger hilt.
“Caelan, let him go!”
It was Elandra’s voice. Caelan hesitated, but then refused to look in her direction. He kept his gaze grimly locked on the back of the boy’s head. This was not her business, he told himself.
He lifted his elbow to turn the blade to the most efficient angle. One swift slice, and ...
“In the name of all that’s merciful, stop what you are doing,” Elandra commanded.
Her voice rang out across the small clearing.
Caelan glared at her, standing nearby. Her eyes were huge in the pale oval of her face.
“He’s only a boy,” she said. “What are you doing?”
“Little Thyzarenes grow into big ones,” Caelan said grimly. “If this one is old enough to kill, he’s old enough to be killed.”
“You have slain his dragon and wounded him to his soul. That is enough.”
“It is not enough!” Caelan shouted. “It will never be enough! He killed my father—”
She came running up to them, close enough now for Caelan to see how red her cheeks were, how furiously her eyes blazed. “This boy is not your enemy.”
“All Thyzarenes are—”
She scooped up a double handful of snow and threw it in Caelan’s face. “He is not your enemy!” she shouted. “He was not there the day your father died. He is not responsible for your being sold into slavery. Genocide is not justice!”
Caelan glared at her, slowly cooling down. She was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. He was furious at her interference. “I will have my revenge.”
Elandra didn’t flinch. “Then kill him in cold blood if you wish,” she said in a raw, scornful voice. “But I will tell you the problem with such a revenge. Once his blood spills hot over your hands, your father’s death will not be undone and your guilt will not be one ounce lighter than before.”
Caelan scowled, the muscles in his jaw clenching hard. She was right. He wanted to curse her, but she was right. The admission tasted like ashes in his mouth.
Growling, he released the boy and stepped back.
Sobbing, the boy sank into the snow, and Caelan looked at him with disgust.
Then he shot Elandra a resentful look. “Satisfied?”
“Would you jeopardize your soul to avenge a man you didn’t really love? A man you said yesterday wasn’t your real father?”
Confusion filled him. “Damn you, will you leave me with nothing?”
“Kill him, then. Kill him because he attacked you. But don’t lie to yourself and use false justification.”
Caelan refused to look at her. Turning wrathfully on the boy, he gestured. “Get out of here.”
The boy, however, didn’t move. His dark eyes were locked on Elandra. “Thank you, lady,” he said, sketching a little gesture of respect.
“Get out!” Caelan yelled at him.
Uncertainly the boy scrambled to his feet, his gaze shifting back and forth between them. “I cannot leave until my Shierfa is properly mourned.”
“If that’s your dragon, you can mourn it on your way home,” Caelan said without pity. “Start walking. You have a long way to go”
“Caelan, don’t,” Elandra said. “His dragon was important—”
“Then he shouldn’t have attacked me,” Caelan said.
“It was sport,” the boy said. “Only sport.”
Caelan, his rage still barely held in check, turned his glare back on the boy, who blanched. Baring his teeth, Caelan said, “Then when I cut off your Shierfa’s head, that was only sport too.”
Furious tears filled the boy’s eyes. Screaming, he launched himself at Caelan, but Elandra stepped in the way.
“Stop it,” she said. “Both of you—”
But the boy threw his arms around her and spun her to face Caelan. As he did so, he pulled a knife from his boot and pressed the point to her side.
“Now, Traulander,” he said, his thin, swarthy face alight with triumph, “I have the lady. Stay back!” he warned as Caelan came at him.
Caelan