“You receive reports on me?” Kaden asked with an edged tone to match their grandfather’s.
“Of course,” the General replied.
“I thought those reports went to the emperor’s aides only.”
The General sat up even straighter. “I make it my personal business to know how my grandchildren are progressing. And I’ll have you know, I’m far from pleased with your actions.”
Kaden barely managed a syllable before the General spoke over him. “All this disobedience, fighting, and disregard for authority is appalling.”
“Do you even know why I was fighting?” Kaden demanded.
Kyrin barely held her tongue from jumping to his defense. After all, most fights had come from defending her from cruel tormentors.
“It makes no difference. It’s shameful. Just look at your sister, only seventeen and already in service to the emperor. If you would dedicate yourself to excelling, there’s no telling where you could be.”
Marcus entered the conversation, and Kyrin grimaced. Kaden wouldn’t appreciate his input.
“With an opportunity like this, you could be promoted straight to lieutenant.”
Kaden glared at him. “And does it bother you that I could reach that goal without doing the work you’ve done?”
It was an unfair question, and Kyrin gave her twin a disapproving frown, but he didn’t notice her, his eyes still boring a hole in their older brother.
“No,” Marcus answered calmly. “It’s just a fact.”
“And he’s right,” the General cut in. “You could very well be promoted to such a position if you’d only apply yourself.”
Kaden snorted. “What if I don’t want to be promoted?”
The General’s eyes grew huge as both he and Marcus looked at him aghast.
“Kaden,” William said in a low warning.
The conversation fast approached dangerous territory.
“How could you not want to be promoted?” Marcus asked. Someone as dedicated and ambitious as he was would certainly have a hard time wrapping his mind around that. “So few achieve such an honor.”
Kaden sent him another smoldering look. “Maybe all I want is to live off in the woods somewhere, away from all this.”
The General’s face turned a fiery red. It chagrined Kyrin to know she and Kaden had inherited a measure of his temper. If not, then this argument might never have reached this point. She implored Kaden with her eyes to put an end to it, but his gaze locked with their grandfather’s. She could almost see the flames flashing between them.
“What nonsense!” the General raged. “What utter foolishness. Our foremost duty is to our emperor and the gods. I’ll not have one of my grandchildren waste their life away in such a manner. You will attend to your studies and training, and there will be no more undermining authority. You will work, and work hard for your promotion, do you understand me?”
Kyrin silently begged her brother not to defy him. Not daring to breathe, her gaze passed uneasily between the two of them. Please intervene, Elôm. She let out a huge sigh when a knock sounded at the door right as Kaden opened his mouth to reply. The footman, completely unaware of the thick cloud of tension, stepped in and announced lunch.
Before anyone else could speak, Liam stood. “Good. I’m starved.”
His voice was light and eased the tension.
Kyrin rose after him. “Yes, let’s eat.”
She gave her brother a grateful smile for taking the first action in defusing the situation.
Kyrin and her father both made a determined effort to avoid any topics during the meal that would cause further friction between Kaden, Marcus, and the General. As much as Kyrin disliked being the center of attention, she brought the focus to herself whenever things took a bad turn. Even so, tempers remained high, and it wouldn’t have taken much to turn the situation into an all-out shouting match. Kyrin barely touched her food for fear of taking her focus away from keeping the peace. Following the meal, William suggested a walk through the gardens, and Kyrin jumped at the idea. Fresh air and space would do them all good and hopefully cool their heads.
Outside, William, the General, and Marcus took the lead. Kaden followed a little behind his father, still brooding, while Kyrin and Liam walked a couple of paces back. The General dominated the conversation. After a few minutes of listening to him go on about one military thing or another, Kyrin hooked her arm around Liam’s and slowed. Soon they fell several yards behind the others.
She smiled up at him. “Might be the only chance the two of us get to talk in peace.”
Liam chuckled softly, his smile open and friendly. “It’s always interesting when you get a group together with strong opinions.”
Kyrin gave a short laugh of agreement. “So tell me about you. How have things been?”
Liam had always been the quiet one in the family, and so far, she hadn’t learned one personal thing about him since he’d arrived.
He shrugged. “All right, I guess. Pretty boring compared to your life. Drills, marching, eating, and sleeping. That’s about it.”
Kyrin gave a short laugh. “Sounds kind of nice, actually. Better than being primped and polished the moment you step out of bed in the morning and having to get used to all this.”
“It’s a lot simpler, I’ll give you that. I wouldn’t want this…but you’re a lot stronger than me.”
“Not really. We all have our strengths and weaknesses.”
“At least you and Marcus have made the General proud. He always feared we were a bit dim, especially me.”
Kyrin’s muscles bunched tight, but she said softly, “Struggling to read and write or not being socially inclined doesn’t make you dim, Liam. Grandfather has a very warped idea about things.”
She frowned at their grandfather’s daunting figure, fighting with her ire over how he caused Liam to see himself and feel inferior. She desired to love her grandfather, she truly did. But that relationship seemed doomed to failure even before she was born, beginning the moment her mother had married her father against the General’s wishes. He’d always dictated in the affairs of the upbringing of his daughter’s children, his highest goal apparently never to let any of them follow the shameful path of their deceased Grandfather Altair.
Kyrin shook her head and swallowed down the bitterness working its way up her throat. She looked up into Liam’s light brown eyes.
“You don’t let what Grandfather thinks bother you, do you?”
He may have been the older one, but her protective instincts were always strong with him.
Liam gave another half-hearted shrug. “Not really, anymore. I am what I am. No amount of self-pity will change that.”
“Well, I’m glad for who you are.” Kyrin cleared her emotion-clogged throat, afraid it would reveal how close she was to angry tears. “And anyway, from what I hear, you’re a heroic warrior yourself, and an excellent soldier.”
Though not a natural fighter, their father had told Kyrin that Liam had become a good swordsman. He never would work his way up in rank, however. He just didn’t have it in him.
Liam let out a quiet laugh, though one devoid of any mirth. “I just do as I’m told. It’s not like I have much choice. The General is determined to see us all become good soldiers.”
“I noticed,” Kyrin murmured, beginning to understand the intensity of Kaden’s feelings. She wanted to scream at their grandfather for forcing Liam to become something he obviously wasn’t cut out for. He was far too gentle to live the life of a hardened soldier.
Kyrin banished these impulses and talk of their grandfather when Kaden dropped back to join them. He wouldn’t have nearly as much self-restraint if he knew how she felt. They welcomed him into their little group, and from there talk was pleasant and enjoyable. Though they’d spent so little time together since childhood, their easy-going camaraderie had not suffered.
But as much as Kyrin loved the time they had together, sadness crept in. At one point, when the three of them burst into lau
ghter at a story Kaden shared from Tarvin Hall, Marcus glanced back at them. Though it was a brief look, Kyrin caught the expression of longing that crossed his face. Always he seemed caught between having a good time with his siblings and maintaining his performance as the responsible eldest son—the man their grandfather desired him to be. It was his choice, but Kyrin determined to find a little time before he left to talk, just the two of them. She wouldn’t let him leave feeling he’d missed out.
Kyrin rubbed her temples. This would be her second night in Auréa with a headache, though this one outdid the previous one. All she wanted was to scrub away the cosmetics that had begun to feel like plaster and fall into bed. But first, she walked Kaden out to the courtyard. Aertus and Vilai had risen behind them, and stars glittered in the black sky.
At the bottom of the palace steps, they stopped. Kyrin turned to Kaden and put a hand on his arm. Under her fingers, his muscles bunched as hard and tight as steel cords. The only time he’d relaxed all day was during their walk.
“Are you okay?”
Kaden shrugged and stared off at some far point beyond the palace walls.
“Wasn’t much of a celebration, was it?”
His eyes, now cold after the fiery intensity she’d seen most of the day, dropped down to her. “It was good to see Father. And Liam.”
Kyrin let out a heavy sigh. Her entire body felt weighted. “Don’t be too hard on Marcus. I know it’s difficult to understand how he idolizes Grandfather, but just imagine the intense pressure he’s under. Grandfather had plans for him the moment he was born and given the same name. And don’t forget, I know they serve the emperor, but there’s nothing wrong with Marcus wanting to be a soldier. He’s wanted that since he was little.”
Kaden’s face soured. “Because that’s what Grandfather was always feeding us.”
“True, but I don’t think it’s the only reason. This is what he’s cut out for. Father is a soldier too, and that’s not because of Grandfather.”
Letting his head hang, Kaden blew out a long breath. “I know. I’m not angry with Marcus. Not really. I just don’t like the way things are.”
“Neither do I, but we can’t do much about it. Now, you should go. The guards won’t like having to open the gate for you back at Tarvin Hall as it is.”
Kaden frowned. “Wish you were going back with me.”
“So do I.”
His brows still bent, Kaden walked away and followed the path toward the gate.
Jace’s arms ached when he lifted the saddle onto Niton’s back. Even though his lungs still burned when he breathed, the coughing fits had passed, thanks in large part to Rebekah’s remedy. Yet, the rest of his body only grew heavier with exhaustion. It would be their fifth day on the trail. The days were uneventful, but at night, dreams crept into his sleep. They had been a nightly plague to him for the first year after leaving slavery. Every morning he’d had to face the humiliation of coming down to breakfast knowing his anguished cries had carried through the walls. After a time, the peaceful life on the farm had ended them, and he had only suffered occasionally. But they were back now in the absence of peace and security.
Behind him, Rayad and Warin gathered their things. He had no doubt he’d kept them awake at times with his fitful tossing and mumbling. He clenched his teeth, the old humiliation rising.
Rayad’s tired voice broke into the silence. “How much farther is Landale Village?”
“Only another ten miles,” Warin answered.
“Good,” Rayad murmured, but a wash of dread hollowed out Jace’s insides. The closer they came to their destination, the harder it became to fight the urge to run. He wanted no part of any of this, but, for now, he dragged himself up every morning and followed Rayad.
Once his supplies were secure, he lifted Tyra up to her place on the packhorse and gave her head a gentle pat. She, at least, grew stronger every day.
When Rayad and Warin were ready, they all mounted and left their campsite. They’d seen nothing but thick forest since leaving Kinnim. Today didn’t seem to be any different, until they broke from the trees a couple of hours later to flourishing farmland stretching out ahead of them.
“This is the southern edge of Landale,” Warin announced. “Two more miles to Landale Village. We’ll stop there so you can meet Baron Grey, and then I’ll take you out to camp.”
They rode on and followed the well-worn path, where they passed many farmers tending the fields. The people waved happily at them. Life in Landale appeared to thrive under Baron Grey.
The miles passed, and soon they rode into the village. Jace blinked away the blur of fatigue to look around. It was a sleepy little place, not much bigger than Kinnim, and Landale Castle only just earned such a title. Yet it had a certain strength to it. The gate stood open before them, and they rode into the courtyard where they dismounted and tied the horses at the hitching rail. From her place, Tyra sniffed the air with her ears perked and her alert eyes taking in the unfamiliar sights. Jace scratched her under the chin and commanded softly, “Stay, girl.”
She nuzzled his face and settled in to wait. He turned to follow Rayad and Warin, who were already on their way to the castle’s front entrance. He glanced back at Tyra, not completely comfortable leaving her in a strange place. Her black coat marked her as an object of fear, and people could work themselves into a frenzy far too quickly.
“She’ll be all right,” Warin assured him. “No one will bother her.”
Jace silently took him at his word.
The butler let them inside with a familiar greeting for Warin, and instructed a footman to take them to Baron Grey’s office. Along the way, Jace scanned the interior. He’d witnessed some fine homes before, but never a castle. Everywhere was stone, and though colorful paintings and tapestries brightened the drab setting, such solid, confined surroundings brought memories of cold, barred cells. A tremor passed through him, and he fought the gnawing urge to escape to the outdoors.
Upon entering an office, they stopped. A thin, scholarly man with balding gray hair sat at a large desk. He looked up and gave Warin a broad grin.
“Welcome back, sir.”
“Thank you, Morris,” Warin replied. “Is Baron Grey available?”
“I believe so. Let me inform him of your arrival.” The secretary rose and opened an ornate oak door at the far side of the room. Peeking in, he said, “My lord, Warin has returned. He has two other men with him.”
“Send them in,” came a deep voice.
Morris opened the door wider and beckoned Warin and his companions inside. The three of them stepped into the baron’s private office. Jace’s eyes swept the room. Rich wood pieces furnished the space, yet it was not overly lavish.
“Welcome back, Warin.”
Jace’s attention shifted to Baron Grey, who rose from behind a huge desk. He was silver-haired and more heavyset than Rayad. Jace measured his serious expression. The care lines in his forehead and dim shadows under his eyes gave him a tired appearance, but it softened in welcome.
“Thank you, my lord,” Warin responded.
“I take it you found the man you were seeking.” Baron Grey’s eyes focused on Rayad, alert despite the signs of fatigue.
“I did indeed. I’d like to introduce my old friend, Rayad.”
The baron came around the desk and extended his hand. “Welcome to Landale. I’ve heard much about you. I’m pleased to have you here.”
“Thank you, my lord. Warin has told me what you and your son are doing. I hope I can be of service.”
“Trask will be glad you’ve joined us. He’s the true force behind it, and it has his full devotion. I don’t think anything could dissuade him now.”
“It sounds like he’s doing a lot of good.”
“That is his hope.”
Warin introduced Jace then. Baron Grey studied him with a keen look, but he did not react to any oddities he may have noticed.
“Welcome, Jace. We’re thankful for any who join our cause.?
??
Jace gave a quick nod, but said nothing. He had followed Rayad, that was all.
“Is Trask around?” Warin asked.
“He left early this morning,” Grey answered. “He mentioned stopping in Marlton to call on Lady Anne. Wanted to get there before Goler’s men, I expect. But he should be at camp when you arrive. He’ll be glad you’ve returned.”
“The Korvic boys giving him trouble?”
“Not any more than usual. He has them on hunting duty to keep them away from camp. But he’ll be glad of your watchful eye when he’s not around.”
An amused smile played on Warin’s lips. “Have you received any word from Valcré since I left?”
“Nothing significant. Just the usual reports.”
“I guess that’s good news.”
Grey gave a brief nod. “Yes, the bloodshed hasn’t yet begun, and every day I pray it will be put off as long as possible. Wrong as it is, I cannot help but hope for some calamity to befall the emperor before he puts his plans in motion.”
“I think we’re all guilty of that,” Warin replied.
Baron Grey grunted in agreement, and his gaze returned to Rayad and Jace. “I’m sure you’re anxious to get to camp. You’ve had a long trip. I’m afraid I can’t promise anything more than a tent for shelter at night, but the men are working to make it more of a home.”
“As long as it provides a break from full days of riding, we’ll be fine,” Rayad replied.
The first hint of a smile appeared on Baron Grey’s face. They bid him farewell and left the office. On the way out of the castle, Rayad asked, “So this Goler is captain of the barracks?”
Warin nodded in confirmation.
“Does he know what’s going on here?”
“He has his suspicions that something is going on, he just doesn’t know what. Baron Grey is careful to keep up a pretense of loyalty to the emperor. However, Trask and Goler are not on friendly terms. They’re both keen on Lady Anne, the daughter of Sir John Wyland. Goler also suspects Trask’s disloyalty to Daican. We fear it’s only a matter of time before it’s confirmed. Goler tends to keep a close watch on both Landale and Lady Anne. That’s why we must be cautious and keep away from here whenever Goler’s men are around.”