She stepped forward, the light from the lantern a golden sheen against her mage robes. Insightful, violet eyes regarded the gathered men, and when she bowed to the young prince, Gib caught sight of the slender longsword fastened to her back, resting between her shoulder blades.
At once, memories flooded Gib’s mind of blue flame sprouting from the steel as Natori raced through the palace halls. On the night Joel and the others escaped Teivel, Gib had witnessed a glimpse of how formidable the Blessed Mage could be.
Koal was the first to recover from Natori’s unexpected arrival. “So, you will accompany the army into Shiraz then?”
“Let me make something very clear, Seneschal,” said Natori. “I care naught for Neetra Adelwijn’s false war. Nor will I follow orders from the likes of Morathi Adeben. Long ago, I swore an oath to protect the Radek bloodline. I am here to safeguard Prince Deegan. If he goes into enemy territory, then I go as well.”
“And NezReth?”
“He will stay with Dahlia and the remaining children.”
Koal gave her a curt nod. “Good.” His somber gaze shifted briefly toward the prince. “I won’t always be able to keep both eyes on my nephew.”
“He’ll be safe under my watch,” Natori assured.
Hasain slipped a hand onto Deegan’s shoulder. “We will help. All of us will.”
Tular and Joel nodded in unison, and Gib found himself doing the same. He’d long since sworn his loyalty to the Radeks. King Rishi’s death wasn’t about to change anything. Back on that first day of class, when Diddy had introduced himself, Gib would never have imagined his life would become so intertwined with the royal family. They’d allowed him into their home and, more importantly, their hearts.
There wasn’t a thing Gib wouldn’t do for them now. He’d protect Deegan like the prince was one of his own brothers. If that meant jeopardizing Gib’s own life, then so be it. Safeguarding Arden’s future was worth any sacrifice, and though no one said the words aloud, Gib knew those gathered felt the same.
Koal motioned toward the map that lay unraveled upon the table. “We’ll move out at dawn. The army will travel east until we reach the Nishika. From there, it’s a straight shot south along the river into Shiraz.” He tapped one finger against the withered parchment, and Gib craned his head to get a better view, even as Roland moved closer to examine the map. “Our scouts have reported that most of the skirmishes are taking place on the border villages of Perth and Ashvale—here and here. With any luck, we can secure Arden’s border with minimal losses and be home in three moonturns.”
Roland raised an eyebrow. “And if Neetra and Morathi push for a full-scale invasion? What then? What if he demands you take the army all the way to Tahir?”
Silence settled over the room like thick fog. Gib’s stomach twisted into knots. It had always been in his nature to hope for the best, but experience told him only a fool wouldn’t prepare for the worst. How far would Neetra take this war if securing the border wasn’t enough? Would the steward not be happy until every soldier—Shirite and Ardenian alike—lay dead?
Koal finally replied in a voice heavy with burden, “Then we’ll have to find a way to stop him. Our allies left behind will have their work cut out for them.”
Roland leaned forward, giving a firm nod. “Don’t concern yourself with Neetra. We’ll do whatever we must to get that bastard off the throne. You need to watch out for Morathi. He’s up to something. I can feel it. Putting his own agents among the Royal Guard to protect Deegan from the Shirites—that’s a pile of horseshit! If you ask me, Morathi and his thugs are the bigger threat to the prince.”
“I know,” Koal lamented. “But there’s nothing I can do about it right now. Throwing allegations at Morathi won’t solve anything. Neetra would demand proof, and even if I did have any, he might not listen.”
Roland snorted. “And what proof would be sufficient for that snake anyway? An Ardenian blade thrust into Deegan’s back?”
The master’s words sent a queasy wave sweeping over Gib, from his head to his stomach, where it settled like a brick. The general wouldn’t truly betray the royal family, would he? King Rishi and Morathi had never seen eye to eye, but to murder the heir in cold blood? No. Gib couldn’t believe it.
Deegan took a step back, growing pale. Any trace of the wit he’d displayed moments before faded, and once again he was a boy of thirteen, frightened and unsure. Hasain and Tular moved closer on instinct, and Joel extended one arm, squeezing his young cousin’s shoulder. Natori took post behind Deegan, her eyes ever-vigilant within the shadows.
Koal continued to stare at the map, but his gaze was distant and detached. Gib could only speculate what his mentor might be thinking.
Finally, the seneschal lifted his head and with somber eyes scanned the room, looking from face to face until he’d measured them all. “Everything is going to be all right. It has to be.”
Gib stood tall, but inside he couldn’t have been any more afraid.
Chapter Four
Arden’s army departed at dawn, the rising sun guiding them east. Rolling hills of springtime green impelled them forward, quickening their steps and drawing them away from Silver. In his mind, Gib conjured images of the high, outer city walls, sparkling in radiant morning sunlight and the waters of the mighty Tempist winding their way along Traders Row like the coils of a serpent. The view was surely exquisite, but Gib refused to turn in his saddle and glance back. To lay eyes upon his home would only remind him of all the things he was leaving behind.
For the first half of the day, Gib rode with Deegan’s royal escort. This might have been more enjoyable if not for Morathi Adeben also choosing to accompany the party. As Gib followed in silence behind Koal’s dappled palfrey, he was all too aware of the general’s presence. Slate grey eyes shifted restlessly from one party member to the next—assessing—calculating.
At times, Morathi would speak with Koal, but the exchanges were impersonal at best. Morathi’s voice matched his formidable appearance: deceptively calm, like a viper waiting for an opportunity to strike. Gib could hardly stand to listen to it.
Worse, though, were the spans of time when the general ceased talking altogether. In those moments, the conversation from the previous evening swelled inside Gib’s head, heightening his nerves and bringing him within a fever pitch of complete hysteria. Were Roland and Koal’s concerns valid? Was Morathi only waiting for an opening to betray Deegan? The thought of harm coming to the Crown Prince turned Gib’s blood to ice.
Koal must have noticed Gib’s apprehension. Just after midday, he asked Gib to relay a series of messages to officers near the front line. Although Gib was relieved for the opportunity to get away from Morathi, guilt gnawed at his conscience. He’d sworn to protect the Radek family. What if something happened to Deegan while Gib was off playing the role of messenger boy?
Of course, the chance of that happening right then and there was about as likely as getting struck by lightning on a cloudless day. They weren’t even three leagues outside Silver, and here, surrounded by ten thousand armed soldiers, only a fool would attempt to harm Deegan. Besides, Hasain and Tular hadn’t left Deegan’s side since the previous night, and Natori’s unyielding presence couldn’t be ignored. No, the prince was safe. For the time being.
Gib found himself riding up and down the line for the next two marks, delivering Koal’s orders and collecting reports. As he passed by score after score of unmounted soldiers, trudging along with supplies and armor strapped to their backs, he’d never been more grateful to have Astora. How different would his life have turned out had he never met Joel? It was probable he’d be among the foot soldiers—if he’d even survived this long.
Gib realized with dismay just how painstakingly sluggish the journey to the border was going to be. Less than half of Arden’s army was mounted, and even slower than the men who made the trek on foot were the beasts of burden: oxen and mules pulling full carts of food, ale, and weaponry supplies. The animals kick
ed up dirt in their wake, which soon became a giant plume of dust that burned Gib’s eyes and left his throat parched. Was this all he had to look forward to for the next several moonturns? Dust, sweat, and the constant paranoia that Deegan would be attacked?
When he returned to Koal with one last report, the seneschal praised Gib for a job well done and promptly dismissed him again, all but ordering Gib to go find his friends and spend the remainder of the afternoon traveling with them. Gib couldn’t muster enough energy to protest.
Four marks later, Gib winced as he threw his leg over Astora’s saddle and dismounted for the final time that day. Extending his arms above his head, he tried to work the kink out of his lower back. He hadn’t ridden for so long in one stretch since he’d traveled back and forth to the farm in Willowdale.
“Not used to riding much, are you?”
With a smile, Gib glanced over his shoulder, following the sound of his companion’s soft voice.
Zandi still perched in his saddle, though his worn face suggested he was also tired. After such a long ride, strands of onyx hair had escaped from beneath his turban, and the heritage mark painted above his brow had faded from rich red to pale pink. He still looked lovely in the warm glow of the setting sun. Orange blazes of light accented his dark features and played about his moving lips.
“I haven’t ridden on anything but cobblestone in so long that I’m feeling it too,” Zandi admitted, his sharp emerald eyes seizing Gib’s attention.
Gib mustered a grin. “We could hobble over to the Healer tent once they get it raised and beg for something for saddle sores.”
“No,” Zandi chuckled. “When I passed Nawaz earlier he was already complaining about how many blisters he’d have to look at tonight. He might have been right. Look at all of the marchers. They’re already tearing off their boots.”
Indeed, a great many soldiers were trudging over to the riverbank and readying themselves for a good soak. Gib couldn’t say he blamed them, and seeing that he wasn’t as bad off as those who’d traveled on foot, he promised himself to hunt twice as hard for firewood when the time came.
Gib rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t aware you were on speaking terms with Nawaz, given—circumstances.”
Zandi shrugged and finally climbed down from the back of his own horse. He gritted his teeth upon landing, and Gib had to wonder if the mage was in more pain than pride would allow admitting. “He wasn’t actually talking to me. I just happened to be within earshot. But I would speak to him, if he had any desire or the need arose. Kezra doesn’t say much about Nawaz, but she hasn’t placed demands on the rest of us not to interact with him.”
“That’s good, I suppose. I’d like to hope their friendship could recover one day, but I know how hard it is.”
At length, Zandi nodded. “That might be too much to ask. Kezra isn’t like you.” He paused to take a deep breath, as if politeness obligated him to ask the following question. “How is Joel? Have you seen him lately?”
“Last night and again this morning,” Gib replied hastily. He snapped his mouth shut. It seemed unfair that Zandi should always have to be so understanding. Didn’t he grow weary of Gib’s fumbling reassurances concerning his relationship with Joel? Wasn’t Zandi ever jealous?
Gib didn’t want to talk about Joel anymore. Zandi deserved as much.
“I better go find Koal. I need to check in with him, though I doubt I can be of much help. At this point, I’ll probably just get in the way.”
“You sell yourself short. Seneschal Koal trusts you. He handpicked you from a sea of other young men who’d kill to be in your position. Clearly he must see something in you. You’re too modest for your own good.”
“Maybe. Or perhaps it’s all a clever ruse to make people like me.”
Zandi’s eyes danced with amusement. “Well, if so, it’s working.” His hand brushed across Gib’s, and for a brief moment, their fingers interlocked. But before Gib could even squeeze Zandi’s hand, he’d already pulled away. “I’m going to find Kezra now. I guess I’ll see you after you’re done meeting with Koal.”
“Sure. I’ll find you when it’s time to eat.”
Gib smiled as he watched Zandi disappear into the crowd. Because he was so tall, it took a few minutes for the mage’s crimson turban and white robes to become entirely indiscernible.
When at last Gib could no longer see his companion, he sighed and took up Astora’s reins. “Come on. Let’s find Koal.”
The seneschal wasn’t difficult to locate. His tent was being raised directly beside General Morathi’s. Koal stood away from the bustling workers, engaged in deep conversation with Hasain and Tular.
Gib hesitated. Koal looked busy and hadn’t even noticed Gib yet.
I don’t want to intrude. Perhaps I’ll just come back later.
Before Gib could debate further, a young servant girl approached. Likely a year or two younger than Gib himself, she gawked with bulging eyes before bowing. “Might I take your horse, m’lord?”
Gib waved desperately for her to stand, wondering if this was how Diddy must have felt every time a servant fawned over him. “Oh, for Daya’s sake, I’m no lord. And I can feed and tend her myself.”
The girl faltered, her mouth falling open as she glanced around, perhaps expecting to be chastised. “Apologies, apprentice of Lord Seneschal Koal. Should this humble servant address you with a different title?”
Heat pooled on Gib’s cheeks as he was certain he was embarrassing himself even more than he was confusing the poor servant. “N–no. Gib is fine. Or Gibben, if you must. But I haven’t a title.”
The girl remained frozen in a half-bow. Exasperated, Gib finally relinquished Astora’s reins for lack of knowing how else to fix the situation. “I suppose you can take my horse if you want, but honestly, I don’t mind tending her myself.”
Immediately, the servant jumped to take command of the reins. “It is my pleasure to serve you, Gibben Nemesio. I’ll feed and water your mare and tether her with Lord Seneschal Koal’s palfrey.”
Gib watched as she led Astora away, wondering if he’d ever learn to accept help from the servants. After nearly four years of living among the highborns of Silver, it seemed silly how much he continued to fumble around the hired help. He supposed some things would never change.
“I presume you’ll never have any servants of your own, seeing as you still have trouble letting them do their jobs.”
Joel’s cool voice startled Gib. He hadn’t even noticed the mage approach.
“You’re right,” Gib replied, surprising himself by how quickly he managed to recover. “If I one day have an estate of my own and fail to maintain its upkeep, it’ll be my own fault for buying a house so big.”
The demure smile that came to Joel’s lips made Gib flounder. How was it that Joel never lost his composure? Even after a full day of travel beneath the unforgiving sun, not one strand of his flowing hair was out of place, nor had his mage robes lost their pristine shine.
Joel quirked a brow. “That would be your logic. Humble to a fault. I’m half-surprised you’re not helping collect wood or digging fire pits.”
“I planned to, but I, uh, have to check in with Koal first.”
“Oh, I see.” Joel’s smile faded when he glanced in the direction of his father. “You might want to wait.”
“Is everything all right? What are they talking about?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t been invited into the conversation myself.”
Hasain made sudden eye contact. Gib expected to be ignored—as was the young lord’s specialty—so he was shocked when Hasain actually alerted Koal to their presence. Koal’s features tightened with indecision before he hastily waved them over. Gib knew the look all too well by now. How many times had he been measured in this exact way right before being sworn to secrecy?
Without a word, he came to a halt by his mentor’s side. Koal pressed a finger to his lips, confirming Gib’s suspicion that this wasn’t a public
discussion, nor was it up for debate. As soon as Joel had taken his place next to Hasain, the conversation resumed.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Tular said. “Aodan’s a fair teacher. I know how to conceal myself. I haven’t been discovered yet, have I?”
Koal sighed. “I trust your intentions wholly. It’s your execution that concerns me. I mean it, Tular. If Morathi sees anything suspicious, he’ll report back to Neetra. Your safety isn’t all you have to consider. Think of the implications for Deegan, as well as the consequences for both Aodan and Gudrin.”
Tular narrowed his eyes. The sudden change in his countenance made Gib shudder. “I’ll protect my family. Don’t you worry about that, Seneschal.”
“We’ll protect our family,” Hasain echoed through gritted teeth.
Koal’s own expression remained unreadable. “We all have to be on high guard. There’s too much at stake.”
“Right. It would be a lethal blow to Arden if all of us were to die in one strike.”
“Hasain, we don’t know for sure that’s what’s going on here.”
“Horseshit. Neetra is delivering us in one neat little package to the Northern Empire’s new ally. What power would he have if suddenly there was no Radek heir or seneschal to comply with?”
Koal’s severe gaze speared Hasain. “Keep your voice down. You never know who might be eavesdropping on a private conversation.”
Hasain inclined his head in the slightest show of a bow, but his face twisted into a grimace. “May we take our leave now? We wish to go see if Deegan is well.”
Koal’s attention jumped back and forth between the two brothers before settling onto Hasain alone. “You may go, but first—are you well, Hasain? You know why I’m asking.”
The inquiry seemed innocent enough, but the way Hasain’s shoulders went rigid suggested otherwise. All the Radek lord’s typical eloquence vanished. “I–I’m fi—is this really the time to ask about—that?”
Battle Dawn: Book Three of the Chronicles of Arden Page 8
