Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 370
I did what I had to do to make sure they didn’t come after us,
but it was prudent to leave the country all the same. And
certain men know what I did, and are willing to forget our life
before--now that the queen is dead."
"The queen is not dead," said Jordan without thinking.
Suneil sat on the bottom step of the wagon’s hatch, and
peered at him. "You know that for a fact, don’t you, young
man?"
"Who cares?" said Tamsin. "What about your meeting?"
"Actually, it’s very important that Jordan Mason knows
with absolute certainty that Galas is alive," said Suneil.
"Because my partners needed a guarantee of my loyalty to
them, and if Jordan weren’t the man he’s pretending to be, the
deal I made this afternoon wouldn’t go through."
Jordan knew it in that instant. "You’ve sold me."
Suneil looked him in the eye. "You are a wanted man,
Jordan."
"Wanted? Not by the law," said Jordan. "Only by--"
"Me."
Jordan turned. Brendan Sheia’s sword hovered
centimeters from his throat. The square-headed Boros heir
smiled grimly as four men emerged from behind Suneil’s
wagon, their own blades drawn.
"Uncle!"
Suneil grabbed Tamsin by the wrist as she tried to run to
Jordan. "I don’t like this any more than you do," he said.
"This is what we have to do to prove our worth to the new
powers in Iapysia. Don’t you see? We can go home now."
"Bastards! Let him go!" Tamsin struggled against her
uncle.
Brendan Sheia ignored them. He was pacing around
Jordan, inspecting him as one might a prize horse. "I