Kyrin turned her gaze to the road as well. Had Jace and James gotten into a fight last night? Had Jace been hurt? What if James had prevented Jace from escaping? A knot twisted in her stomach. Surely Rothas wouldn’t have been so angry this morning if they had Jace hidden away somewhere. Everything Kyrin saw led her to believe that his rage was genuine. If only they didn’t have so far to go to find out.
A few minutes later, Rachel, Elanor, and Charles came out to say their goodbyes, followed shortly by Elian. As relieved as Kyrin would be to leave, it was sad to bid them all farewell. She would have liked to get to know them better. After all, they were Jace’s family, and that was important to her.
While the others shared their parting words, Rachel approached her with a smile.
“I’m glad we had a chance to talk the other morning, however briefly.”
Kyrin smiled in return. “So am I.” Rachel was so kind and wonderful to talk with. Now she knew exactly where Jace got it from. If only he realized what a good man he was.
“Jace has a very special place for you in his heart.”
A happy warmth filled Kyrin’s chest, and her smile widened. “He has one in mine too.”
“I’m glad. It was very difficult for him to leave. He’s going to need you.”
Kyrin nodded, promising, “I’ll be there for him.”
Her eyes misting, Rachel hugged her, and Kyrin returned the embrace readily. Her own eyes grew watery. Jace needed this love from his mother. It seemed so cruel for him to lose it so soon. Please, Elôm, let it work out someday. Please don’t let him lose it forever.
They parted, and Kyrin asked, “Is there anything that can be done about Tina?”
She couldn’t get the girl’s broken look out of her mind.
Rachel nodded, deep regret in her eyes. “I’m sending her to Brandell. Charles will make sure she is well treated there.”
“Good,” Kyrin murmured. At least now she would have someone to look out for her, even if the damage had already been done.
They then traded sad goodbyes, and Kyrin drew a deep breath to loosen up her chest. Blinking several times, she focused on Anne and Charles. The viscount gave Anne a wide smile.
“I’m quite impressed with how you’ve handled your time with my brother-in-law. If I were a bit younger, I would seriously consider going to your father for permission to court you.”
Anne arched her brow in amusement. “I’m afraid you would have some very serious competition to contend with first.”
Charles chuckled. “Well, whoever he is, I hope he knows the treasure he is pursuing.”
“Oh, I think he does.”
Everyone concluded their goodbyes, and Kyrin turned to Maera. She froze when she caught sight of James watching her from several yards away. A chill crept over her skin, but it lessened with curiosity. Now she could see for herself the new bruises on his face and the cut along his left cheekbone. The inflamed edges were clean and straight, obviously the result of a blade.
James’s gaze flitted past her, and his jaw went taut. He looked at her once more and turned away. She looked over her shoulder to find Kaden’s menacing glare trained on the other man until he disappeared.
Leaving thoughts of him behind, she mounted up and followed the others away from the manor house. Once beyond the wall, Kyrin glanced back, again with mixed feelings. Ashwood could have been Jace’s home… but then she would never have known him and that was a painful thought.
Jace downed his fourth cup of coffee and contemplated another. Though he had taken Holden’s suggestion to rest shortly after reaching the cover of the forest and setting up a temporary camp, he had only slept for an hour, maybe two. Not nearly enough to make up for three sleepless nights.
Needing to move around, he rose and rubbed a tender spot on his ribs.
“You all right?”
Jace glanced down at Holden. “It’s nothing.” The dull soreness didn’t come close to the pain he had experienced with broken ribs last winter. And it was his own fault for underestimating his brother.
He gritted his teeth and bit back a sigh. All day he had tried not to think of his family and the pain of leaving, but how did one do that? It was as if he had left behind a part of himself he could never go back for, leaving a horrible wound inside him. One he wasn’t sure would ever heal.
“The others should be here any time now.”
Jace’s attention snapped back to Holden, and then he looked down the road. Midday had come and gone, adding to his nerves. What if Rothas had flown into a rage after his disappearance and imprisoned everyone? If they didn’t show up soon, he would be sorely tempted to ride back and find them.
The road blurred, and he rubbed his eyes.
“You really should sleep while you can,” Holden said.
Now Jace’s sigh did escape. “I can’t.”
After those first couple of hours, sleep had eluded him. It had given him a taste, a brief escape, but no more.
“It’s not easy leaving family.”
Jace clenched his fists. Holden wanted to help, but Jace didn’t think he could. Despite his clear lack of desire to talk, Holden pressed on.
“When I left the emperor’s service, I knew I would be severed from my family, likely for good. Now they probably believe I’m dead, and what’s more, most of them probably don’t care.” He shrugged, as if he had long since accepted it, and looked up at Jace. “But you’ve got family that loves you whatever the circumstances, and while that does make it harder to leave, their love is still with you, and you know they’re pulling for you, praying for you. And when this all comes to an end, you’ll be together and won’t have to be separated again.”
Jace imagined his family together for eternity, but a black cloud of doubt shadowed the blissful scene. Would he be part of it, or would he be the only one missing from that picture? Stop it. Hadn’t he promised his mother he would try to leave all these fears to Elôm? But, right now, the very thought of lifting those dark fears out of his heart was exhausting. He just didn’t have the will.
Overwhelmed and frustrated with his own weakness, a welcome distraction came in the sound of approaching horses. Holden pushed to his feet, and they both peered down the road. Jace gripped the hilt of his sword, just in case.
In a few moments, the riders appeared, and Jace recognized Rayad’s horse as well as Anne’s white horse in the lead. The tension inside him relaxed. When the riders reached them, they all appeared relieved and dismounted.
Kyrin was the first to reach Jace, her expression serious and searching. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” But she looked at him so earnestly, he asked, “Why?”
“James looked like he got into quite a scuffle. We were worried something happened when you left last night.”
Jace’s mind turned back to the confrontation. Kyrin must have picked up the subtle change in his expression.
“Did something happen?”
Slowly, Jace nodded. “I don’t know how he knew I was leaving, but he was waiting at the gate. It was just him, and he wanted the two of us to have it out.” Kyrin’s brows lifted, and he continued, “We had a… brief discussion, and then Holden and I left.”
“So you’re not hurt at all?”
Jace shook his head, drawing a sigh of relief from her.
Jace never slept in. It just wasn’t in his nature, but lying on his own cot the next morning, he had little ambition to rise. They had reached camp late last night. As soon as he had finished unsaddling Niton, he’d gone straight to the shelter and fallen into bed. At least he had slept well, but lingering fatigue weighed down his limbs. The heaviest of all, however, was his heart. His mother was his last thought before falling asleep and his first thought upon waking. A yearning ache stabbed his chest. He would probably never see her again.
Jace rubbed the stinging from his eyes and glanced around the shelter. Kaden and the others had left several minutes ago. Only Tyra remained. Other than the wolf, he was alone with
his thoughts. Not the best position to be in—not in this state. But he was tired. Too tired to summon the energy and force himself to face the day.
Don’t do this, a tiny fighting spark urged. If he didn’t take charge now, he would only sink deeper, something he knew well. Besides, Kyrin was going to meet with Trask and the others this morning to share her findings concerning Samara. No doubt these findings would shape any future plans for the group, including him. Things could just never seem to stay peaceful for long.
With a sigh that turned into a soft groan, he pushed himself out of bed and grabbed his clothes. Tyra jumped to her feet, eager to follow him out.
“Sorry,” he murmured at making her wait.
Outside, they stepped into the bright morning sun and headed toward the central fire pit, where many of the men congregated for breakfast. This would be the norm now, what with the weather improving. Jace grabbed a bowl and served himself from the pot of porridge. When he looked up, he caught some of the men watching him before averting their eyes. A sharp cramp pinched his stomach.
They were the newer men in camp—those who had arrived last fall and in the recent days. He read the questions in their eyes, their suspicions. After all, Hagen’s death was little more than a week old. Jace may have been gone for a while, but the incident was still fresh in the minds at camp. And maybe he wasn’t responsible, but he couldn’t erase his connection to it. Not everyone had accepted him as fully as the others had. The Korvic brothers, who had beaten him up last summer, kept their distance, especially since Holden was on his side now, but it didn't completely stop their threatening looks. They had probably done some whispering while he was away.
Jace moved away from the fire and drew closer to his shelter mates and friends. At least he didn’t have to worry about accusing looks from them, but even here, he didn’t feel entirely comfortable. They would all tell him that was ridiculous and that he was one of them, but…
He shook his head. More thoughts he shouldn’t be having.
He stared down at his bowl and whispered a short prayer of thanks, admitting how weak it was. Those looks had stolen his appetite, and he tasted little as he battled his destructive thoughts. His old enemy despair jabbed and pried at every weakness he had. He recalled his mother’s encouragement and the peace she wanted for him, but that did little more than increase the ache in his heart. Either way, he couldn’t win.
“Jace.”
His attention jerked to the men, to Marcus in particular. If they had said anything before that, it hadn’t registered.
“Thank you for saving Kyrin,” Marcus told him. “If you hadn’t heard her scream . . .” He shook his head, his face solemn.
Thoughts of Kyrin and the encounter with James pushed everything else to the back of his mind for the moment. He nodded slowly. Contemplating what could have happened only darkened his mood.
“I’m still glad you had a few more words with James before you left,” Kaden said.
Jace glanced at him. Only Holden knew the details of their “discussion,” and the man gave him an amused look. Jace wondered briefly if he had gone too far, but if what Anne and Kyrin had told him of James’s behavior in the morning was any indicator, perhaps he would think twice before taking advantage of another woman. If so, then Jace really couldn’t regret his actions.
The focus of the group shifted when Rayad joined them. Behind him, Trask and Warin strode across camp to the meeting hall, rolled-up maps and parchments under their arms. Kyrin’s talcrin friend Sam and his nephew Tane followed.
“As soon as Kyrin is ready, we’ll all meet inside,” Rayad informed the group.
They finished their last bites of breakfast and then followed him to the nearly completed meeting hall. A long table was set up in the back, and the men gathered around it. Captain Darq and his lieutenant, Glynn, spoke in the corner. The two cretes must have arrived from Dorland while they were in Ashwood. Once Aaron and Timothy joined them, they only awaited Kyrin.
Jace noticed her arrival only moments later. She carried her own stack of parchments, which she laid on the table near Trask. Her face was quite serious, but also tired, especially her eyes. Had she slept much last night?
“These are the copies I made of the letters from Daican to Rothas. I have a few more to do, but these contain the most pertinent information.” Kyrin slid a map over to refer to, and everyone else gathered in close to see as she went on. “From what I can tell from the letters, Daican intends to attack the fortress of Stonehelm, here, on Samara’s southern border.”
“I thought that fortress was nearly impenetrable,” Holden said. “Didn’t the giants build it for them?”
Sam nodded. “Yes. There’s a wall running from the mountains down to the marshlands. Between that and the river, an army would have a hard time reaching Samara. They’d lose a lot of men.”
“Unfortunately, that isn’t Daican’s only plan.” All eyes turned back to Kyrin. “Rothas has something else in mind. The attack against Stonehelm is basically a diversion. Daican intends to send half of his force by ship to Amberin, Samara’s capital. With Samara’s resources gathered at Stonehelm, they could take the city with minimal force and then march on the fortress to attack it from both fronts. They wouldn’t even have to fight. They could merely starve Samara’s army out, since no supplies could be brought in.”
A silence settled, heavy with impending doom. Jace admitted with some shame that he hadn’t thought much about Samara’s plight—he’d been too focused on other things—but it was real now, and it didn’t just affect the people of Samara. If the emperor succeeded in his invasion, he would control more than half the continent. Who could stop him then?
In a low voice, Trask asked, “Does Daican say when he’s going to enact this plan?”
“He doesn’t say specifically, but the last letters sound pretty set, so I don’t see why he wouldn’t act immediately.”
“We have to warn Samara,” Sam said. “If they can split their forces between Stonehelm and Amberin, then just maybe they can hold Daican off.”
Trask agreed. He looked about to say something, but Kyrin spoke first.
“There is a reason he has chosen to attack now.”
They focused on her once more. Jace found her expression odd, almost hesitant or questioning.
“The emperor has been hearing rumors from Samara. Anne told me that Rothas mentioned it at supper one night, and I have found several mentions of it in Daican’s letters. There is a man in Samara named Elon. Apparently, he has been teaching and miraculously healing people.”
“Miraculous healings?” Trask said. His voice held a tone of doubt.
Jace looked between the two of them, discomfort stirring inside of him. Such things belonged in stories told around campfires at night. Not in real life.
Kyrin nodded. “The letters don’t contain much detail beyond that, but . . .”
Jace found himself holding his breath as she paused.
“There is talk among the people of Samara that he could be their Savior.”
Complete silence overtook the room, and Jace resisted the urge to fidget. Talk like this was unsettling. There was too much unknown in it.
Timothy spoke up for the first time, his eyes alight. “You mean the Savior? The One sent to redeem us?”
Kyrin lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “That’s what it sounds like they’re saying. Of course, Daican doesn’t believe it, but I think he wants to destroy the rumors before they embolden Samara, which is why he’ll probably move against them as soon as possible.”
Trask nodded, and looked at Jace and the others who had gone to Ashwood. “Leetra went to spy out Fort Rivor. She should be back in a day or two. Once we know what’s going on there, we’ll bring all this information to the king.” His gaze then fell on Marcus. “When Daican does attack, they will need all the help they can get.”
Marcus stood up taller and nodded. “We may not have a large force, but the men are ready. I’ll see that they are p
repared to march as soon as you give the order.”
So this was it, then; they were going to war. Jace glanced down at Kyrin, who watched her brother with a mix of admiration and concern.
“Good,” Trask said, now turning to Captain Darq. “Daican’s men may not be able to easily breach Stonehelm’s walls, but it is imperative we take into consideration the firedrakes. Samara will have no way to defend herself against them.”
Darq didn’t even pause to consider. “I will return to Dorland immediately and gather as many riders as are willing to join me. We’ll meet your men in Samara.”
“Thank you. Last we heard, Daican has about sixty firedrakes ready for combat. We will need as many dragons as we can get to face them.”
Jace slid the whetstone down the edge of his sword blade over and over again, lost in the motion of it. The sword didn’t really need sharpening, but it was something to do with his hands while his mind argued with itself. He should focus on Samara and the days ahead, but his heart was still stuck back in Ashwood and dwelling on the situation here in camp. He had seen Alice when he’d left the meeting hall earlier. She still blamed him. It was clear in her eyes, driving deeper his growing unease. And, more and more, he kept catching the same types of glances from the other men that he had received at breakfast.
With a scowl, he admonished himself for going down this road again, sinking into the lonely pit of despair he had been in when he’d first come to camp. But this back and forth between his emotions, this constant battle, was wearing on him. He didn’t want to be this way. He wanted more for his life, wanted to be more, but he didn’t know if he was strong enough to attain it. Every attempt on his part in the past had met with failure, no matter how hard he fought for it. He breathed harder. Why did peace elude him so?
And then there were these rumors from Samara. He gritted his teeth at the uncertainty that swelled up inside him. He didn’t know enough from the Scrolls to understand much of what Kyrin and Timothy had said, but they both seemed very excited about it. They had talked for a long time after the meeting. What would such a thing mean for all of them? For him? It left a tight knot in his gut.