“Lassitius pleaded with Chantmer. “It is my master—he is dying. The sultan insists that you come at once.”Chantmer sprang up so quickly from the bed of nails that he gouged his bare skin. The young mage who had been tattooing his skin fell back with a scowl.“Hurry, I beg of you,” Lassitus said as Chantmer pulled on his robe.The eunuch rubbed his hands and muttered in a worried tone as he led Chantmer from the hall out through the courtyard. Roghan stood in one corner of the gardens, already watc...hing through narrowed eyes. He rubbed the chain around his neck. Tattoos completely covered his body, all the way up his neck to his chin. Chantmer gestured for him to follow. Roghan snapped his fingers in turn at two of his most trusted apprentices, and the three of them fell in behind Chantmer and Lassitus.“Who is dying?” Chantmer asked, confused by what Lassitus had said. “It isn’t—it’s not the sultan, is it?”He could hardly dare to hope. And yet it was too soon. He wasn’t ready, and he had not yet tested Roghan’s loyalties.“No, it’s not Mufashe.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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