Although Derya did not know the man awaiting them in the hall, his scent immediately told her he was related to the mayor. He reminded her of the stories of the Northern men of the mountains, dressed in skins over fine material and managing to look both regal and rough with his hair and beard neatly trimmed but his eyes blazing fire.
"Master Arkenon," Andor greeted.
"Why do I return to find my son and most of his family slaughtered?" he bit out, not acknowledging Andor or his rank.
"Because he decided that he deserved to have his way with my sister, and when he got caught, he plotted to have her murdered, and when that didn't work, he plotted to overthrow me," Andor said, his expression stark, his manner tight, and his eyes blazing. He didn't like what happened, and it had not been necessary. Those men did not need to lose their lives, but they played with fire and got burned.
"I want my vengeance! What kind of a man murders innocent women?" this Master Arkenon demanded.