Janir jolted awake in the middle of the forest for the second time that night with another nightmare. A horrible, gut wrenching nightmare. The Lord Argetallam had been in it, looking much as she remembered him from her younger years. There had been a screaming man on the ground, blood, and the shriek of something inhuman…
Janir shook her head free of the memory, trying to let it fade. The fire had been put out and the world was silent, far too silent. Saoven was several paces off, alert. He heard her and glanced in her direction just long enough to convey that she was to be quiet, then continued staring into the trees.
A moment later, she heard the soft snapping and bending of greenery as someone moved through the woods. With care, Janir rose into a crouch, ready to run or hide, whichever became necessary. Her heart was pounding in her ears like a drum, her breathing sped. The old feeling of fear brimmed over in her heart.
It was a long time before the sound of bodies moving through the forest died down. Could it have been animals? Hunters? Bandits?
Kalbo whickered quietly as did the white mare tied to the tree beside him. The elf said something in his native tongue and the animals quieted.
Saoven made a calming gesture after several moments, indicating that whatever it was had gone. Still cautious, Janir lowered herself to the ground again, but knew that she would not be sleeping.
The moments ticked away. Saoven didn’t move. Janir closed her eyes, but she couldn’t seem to relax. The noise of the disturbance had faded well away and there was only the soft snores of Karile. Stealing a peek at the enchanter, Janir made sure he was indeed asleep before she ventured the question that burned on the tip of her tongue.
“Saoven?” she whispered, speaking so quietly she wasn’t sure he could hear her.
“Yes?”
Janir inhaled. “What happened to Father?”
Saoven didn’t pull his gaze from the darkened forest, but she felt his sympathy. “I am not certain.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to keep prodding him. It wasn’t clear how much he knew. “Is he alright?”
The elf hesitated for a moment. “Why would he not be?”
Janir was suddenly very uncomfortable.
“When I returned to Castle Caersynn, I found Armandius and my father waiting for me. They told me…” Saoven paused, probably trying to think of something tactful. “They told me of what you did, Janir, or the summary of events.”
She was afraid to speak. He couldn’t know everything, but he might know far more than was safe.
“It was defense of your family, I do not doubt that the High Lords will forgive you for this.” Saoven cocked his head to the side ever so slightly. “Indeed, very little of it makes sense to me.” He pulled his gaze from the trees and allowed it to settle on her.
It was then that Janir realized he thought she was on the run because of killing Duke Ronan. Armandius and Velaskas had not told him the details of how she had been able to do it.
Saoven watched her for a moment, then let out a long exhale. Whatever he might suspect, he wasn’t going to press her. He wasn’t that kind of man. “Try to get some sleep, Janir.”