The Sins of Reem is the first book in a new series I've told you about. Here's a small excerpt, a part that will serve as a prologue of sorts for this story set in the LSC expanded universe and more specifically the King of Blades and Dark Jester's timeline.
996 AD
[Somewhere in the
port-city of Sidon]
The small corridor led
to a bigger room, its walls covered with cheap tapestry, a large table on a
corner with an oil lamp on it, a couple of plain wooden chairs, one of them
occupied. The woman had her head lowered, chin touching her chest, straight
black hair adorning a well-proportioned face, a thin nose and full lips. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be sleeping. She had an aura of
exotic beauty about her but nothing extraordinary. Still she could turn a man's
head and the rare woman's in the market. Her clothes were fine-tailored, rather
expensive, a stark contrast to the fairly modest one-storied house. Then again
she spent very little of her time here, he thought. The Dux wanted her close at
all times that is until his wife found out. Then he had to make a decision,
keep the title and the coin or
give it all up for the sake of pleasure? well, it didn't take that long for him to
decide.
Pleasure is nice.
Coin 'n status even
better.
Only thing left was
how to make his… little transgression disappear. The blond man sighed, not an
easy thing making people disappear. Not as difficult as common folk may believe
but still, one has to plan, ask around, and find the better way. Sometimes he
may have to ask a person with the right connections or inclinations to help him
out. This individual will ask for monetary compensation most of the times to do
the foul deed.
Others he may require
something else. Land or a title and rarely nothing at all that is except the
promise from this well-positioned person to help in turn when he's asked.
Sometime into the future. What kind of help you may ask? Well anything really
but in this particular instance a single vote.
Simple, he thought.
The woman sighed
softly and opened her eyes.
This was unexpected.
Her stare stayed on
him, eyes unfocused the poison already in her blood and for a moment it was as
if she didn't recognize him. But then she did.
"You."
He gave a slight nod
with his head.
"Why?" She
asked.
What to say at such a
query? Perhaps he shouldn't say anything at all, just wait for her to wither
away, let the hemlock-based poison Dastan had injected her do its job. Ah, he
thought, but where was that fool?
He puffed hard. Who am
I… he asked himself.
I'm the Devil.
"Don't hurt
her." The woman managed to say, a shiver running through her, dark red
spots appearing on her neck and face. "Please."
He stared at the
wooden door leading to the small bedroom. Dastan had walked inside five minutes
earlier. Ten at the most. The man with the blond hair smacked his lips, not
liking feeling guilty for what was about to happen. It wasn't his damn fault
after all! He actually liked the woman.
And he harbored
absolutely no ill feelings for her baby daughter.
He wasn't a monster.
"She's
four." The woman breathed slowly, barely heard now, almost gone.
Bandi's cock.
He'd walked towards
the half-opened door unwittingly. Paused before stepping inside, cast another
glance on the silent woman and then with a grimace of distaste pushed the door
open.
The lithe man wearing
the leather vambraces, a knife sheathed on each one, dark tunic and hood
covering his face didn't turn his way. He kept watching the small girl sleeping
peacefully on the large bed, red nighty contrasting her creamy skin.
A younger, better and sin-free
version of her mother. The man with the hood pulled a knife out and flipped it
expertly in his hand, the light coming from a small oil-lamp secured on the
opposite wall catching its blade. The gleam forcing him to speak.
"Don't."
The man turned gave
him a questioning look. He answered with a nod.
"You sure?"
The hood asked.
"We'll take her
with us."
"Chief—" The
man tried to say but he stopped him raising his hand. His voice came low,
minding not to wake the child.
"I can make it
work."
Such is the
foolishness of youth one thinks nothing he ever does will come back to haunt
him. But nothing compares to the foolhardiness of those believing a single act
of mercy will wash away the sins of a lifetime.
