Page 21 of The Warrior Priest (After the Rift #1)

R hys did not come to me.

He was announced as the new master of the order of Merdu’s Guards the day after Master Tomaj died. He wasn’t even given time to mourn.

I placed a candle in the window of our secret room the following night, but he still didn’t come. Nor did he come the next night. I fell asleep waiting and awoke at dawn and returned to the home Minnow kept with her partner.

On the third night, on the day Master Tomaj’s body was buried, I didn’t light the candle.

Instead, I entered the temple complex using the door Giselle had showed me.

I picked the lock and headed up the steps to the tower parapet.

I watched the priests perform a ceremony in the yard as dusk fell.

Rhys stood at the front of the entire order and each priest knelt before him, one by one, and said something I couldn’t hear.

They appeared to be officially making Rhys their new master.

It was thanks to Vizah’s booming voice that I realized they were swearing an oath to serve Rhys and be loyal to him.

Rhys accepted each brother’s oath with a nod. Then, as the sun gave its final gasp, the dinner gong sounded, and the priests entered the garrison. Rhys remained behind until he was the last one left. He drew in a deep breath.

As he did so, he tipped his head back and looked directly at me.

I doubted I could have escaped via the tower steps in time, but I didn’t try anyway. I sat down, out of sight from anyone down below, and waited.

He joined me moments later, his chest heaving, a pulse in his throat throbbing. His jaw was set hard, his nostrils flared, every muscle of his face straining for control. To some, he might look his most furious. But I knew he was trying hard to master his emotions.

I opened my arms and he came to me. He sat and tucked his arms around me, gathering me onto his lap, then buried his face in my neck. I cradled him, stroking his hair, as he wept silently.

Some time later, he pulled away. He wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be. Not with me.”

He looked down at our linked hands, but I doubted he saw them. “He shouldn’t have died. Not yet. He wasn’t old. He was healthy, strong. He wasn’t supposed to die for years. And now…he’s gone and I…”

“You’re the master of the order.”

“I shouldn’t be. I’m not ready.”

I cupped his face and looked him in the eye, still brimming with vulnerability and sorrow. “He chose you to be his second because you are incredible, Rhys. You are strong and capable, and your heart is good.”

“But I’m not ready.”

“No one is ever ready for leadership.”

He closed his eyes. “I don’t want it.”

“The best leaders never do. It’s others who see the potential in them.” I stroked my thumb along his cheek, and he opened his eyes. They were still haunted, his gaze more intense than ever.

“Jac,” he murmured, his voice a purr that whispered across my skin. “I’m sorry.”

I quickly released him and got up.

He stood, too. “Jac?—”

“It’ll be all right, Rhys.”

I entered the tower and raced down the steps, my feet moving so fast it was lucky I didn’t trip. I pushed open the door at the bottom and didn’t bother to relock it behind me.

I thought he might follow—part of me hoped he would—but he did not.

I raced up the street and returned to Minnow’s home where I finally allowed myself to sob, too.

A thunderstorm signaled a dramatic end to summer and the beginning of autumn.

As the weather cooled, I remained holed up in Minnow’s spare room during the day, only going out at night.

I didn’t mind. The crisp, quiet evenings were perfect for a city stroll.

Only Minnow and her partner knew I was there.

I made sure my face wasn’t seen by anyone when I went out.

With its likeness still nailed to every noticeboard and bollard around Tilting, I’d not dared leave the house without my face covered.

I hadn’t contacted Rhys since that night on the temple’s tower, a week ago, and I’d avoided going anywhere near him.

Giselle returned to Tilting at the end of that week. I saw her speaking to a man in the semi-dark outside the Cat and Mouse. The blunt cut of her hair and the lithe, feline figure were unmistakably her. I waited until her companion left, then I stepped out of the shadows.

She saw me and smiled. Then it suddenly vanished. “Jac, look out!”

I turned and came face to face with the pointed end of a constable’s sword. “You’re under arrest.”

I slowly put my hands in the air. “Why?”

“Governor’s orders.”

“What have I done wrong?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a broken crate on the ground, a rotting lettuce leaf still inside. If I could subtly maneuver my way over to it, I could use it as a shield.

The moment my feet moved, the constable’s blade bit into the skin at my throat. “If you resist arrest, my orders are to kill you, girl .” His top lip curled with his sneer as his gaze traveled my length. He licked his lips.

I stilled. I didn’t dare move a muscle, or look away.

At the edges of my vision, I spotted Giselle bob low and creep around.

Then she leapt out and tackled the constable side-on.

They fell to the ground in a tumble of limbs and flash of metal.

The breath left the constable in an “oof” as Giselle sat on his chest, her hands pressing down on his wrists so he couldn’t use his sword.

He tried to buck her off, but she didn’t budge.

“Run, Jac!” she shouted.

“I can’t leave you.”

The constable tried to buck her off again. She kneed him in the groin, rendering him momentarily immobile. “I can take care of him. Go!”

I ran off along the street, only to stop as four more constables approached, swords drawn. I turned and ran the other way. Another four constables blocked my exit.

Behind me, Giselle swore. When I turned to see why, she’d almost disappeared into a building. A back door would give her the means of escape.

I, however, was trapped.

My arrest was pathetically swift. I did manage to throw one punch, but it hurt my knuckles and didn’t seem to affect my target’s jaw.

It didn’t even break his skin. He simply snorted and made sure to wrench my arm hard behind my back as another fished inside my shirt.

He squeezed my chest, only to pout in disappointment at the bandage covering my breasts.

He pulled out the pendant, broke the chain then pocketed it.

He replaced the chain with a leash and tied a length of rope around my wrists behind me. He tugged on the rope end and ordered me to move.

The other constables weren’t required but they flanked me as if I were the city’s most dangerous criminal. Minnow stood in the doorway of her house, a hand at her throat, her brow furrowed. I gave my head a slight shake. I didn’t want anyone to know she’d been protecting me.

It soon became clear that I’d been betrayed by one of the young whores who came and went from Minnow’s house.

She must have seen me there. She watched our procession pass by, a hand on her hip, the other hand out to collect her reward.

The constable who’d arrived first directed her to go to the council office the following day to collect. She didn’t meet my gaze.

There was no sight of Giselle. I didn’t expect there to be. She had her own skin to save. She wouldn’t want the burden of saving mine, too.

“Where are you taking me?” I tried to sound defiant and brave but the tremble in my voice betrayed me.

“Holding cell,” said the one pulling on the leash.

“Governor’s orders,” added another.

I wouldn’t be in the holding cell for long.

My uncle wanted the pendant, not me. Once he verified it was the right one, he had no further use for me.

It would be an acceptable explanation to claim I’d died in custody after attempting to escape.

No one would question it except Rhys, and he had no authority to do anything about it.

Rhys . Losing a friend so soon after the loss of Tomaj would be a heavy blow.

The walk to the sheriff’s holding cells was quite a distance.

We passed through more slums, skirted the market area, and approached the park from the west. The vast expanse was a beautiful spot for picnics and walks in the light of day, where lovers met in the dim evening, and the homeless slept on dark nights.

It was that darkness that made it an excellent place for Rhys and his men to hide until the moment was right.

As our procession passed, three warrior priests emerged from the shadowy depths with no warning, as if magic had conjured them.

Led by Rhys in all his ferocious glory, sword in hand, who blocked the road ahead, with Rufus and Andreas flanking him.

A horse in the park snuffled and a bridle clanked.

Vizah must be with their mounts, ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

“Let him go and no one will be harmed,” Rhys ordered.

The constables drew their swords. The one holding me audibly gulped, but he was also the only one to respond. “Step aside, Priest. This is not your affair.”

“Let. Him. Go.”

One of the constables snickered. “Him? You mean her .”

“Is she your woman?” asked another. “I knew you priests weren’t as righteous as you pretended to be. No man is.”

Andreas broke rank and charged at the constables. Rhys ordered Rufus to back him up, then he plunged into the fray himself. He came for the constable holding me with a wildness in his eyes and a snarl on his lips.

I’d seen them practicing, but this was different. Lives were at stake. The constables intended to kill. They knew they were within their rights to defend themselves. There would be no retreat when they beat their opponent, no shaking of hands and starting over.