Samara's Peril (Ilyon Chronicles Book 3)

by Jaye L. Knight

  “I’d do it again and more.” Charles smiled, and then hauled Jace in for a hug.

  Jace embraced his uncle and blinked hard. Charles did the same as they parted.

  “It is my hope and prayer that we’ll meet again,” he said.

  “And mine.” Jace cleared his throat and shifted his gaze to Elian. He would never forget the moment the man had come for him and this all started, nor the way he’d sought to defend him from Rothas. The ache of knowing they could have been father and son would never heal completely.

  “Thank you, for everything.” Jace didn’t know what more to say. The situation was just another cruel twist of the life he had struggled with for so long.

  Elian merely nodded, and they grasped each other’s arms. Unspoken understanding passed between them.

  In a quiet voice, Elian said, “Take care of yourself.”

  Now the final, most painful farewell loomed. Jace turned to his mother. Moisture pooled in her eyes, glittering in the sliver of moonlight that peeked through the clouds. The stinging pressure in his eyes took hold in his throat. He wasn’t ready for this. Three days—to know his mother for only three days—it wasn’t nearly enough time. He swallowed once, and then again, to work his throat loose. He had never experienced such emotions before, this longing for his family.

  His voice was deep and low, but carried the cry of the child inside him, once thought orphaned and unloved. “I don’t want to go.”

  A quivering smile touched his mother’s lips. “I know. And I desperately wish you could stay.” She dabbed her eyes. “But I’m thankful we had the time we did. I can rejoice now to know you are alive and I’ve been able to see you.”

  Jace struggled to breathe. His voice came out hoarse. “It just doesn’t seem fair.” But then, how much of his life had ever been fair?

  “No,” his mother replied sadly, “it doesn’t. Many things don’t, but remember, we can’t see the whole picture.”

  Jace released a hard sigh. If only he could believe this would all lead to something good.

  His mother stepped closer. “Jace, I know this is difficult for you, especially after the life you’ve lived. It breaks my heart. I just want you to have peace, and it is my belief that only Elôm can give you that. Please, do this one thing for me. Please don’t try to hide from Him anymore. Bring Him everything—everything that has and does hurt you. Let Him take it all. He is more than willing.”

  Jace hung his head. Such a heavy burden that request was. To do so would mean opening the doors on the deep down vaults where he tried to hide all the dark memories, guilt, regrets, and shame that continually leaked out. Things of which his mother didn’t truly know the extent.

  “Jace.”

  He grimaced as he raised his eyes back to her, but told her with all the strength he could manage, “I’ll try.”

  She breathed out slowly. “And I will pray for you.”

  She opened her arms, and Jace stepped into them, soaking in her embrace. If this were the last, it would never be enough—never soothe the ache of being deprived of such love for so long.

  “Every day, I will pray to Elôm that I will see you again, but if I don’t, know that I love you so much. I always have, and I always will.”

  Jace’s voice choked past his swollen throat. “I love you too.” It was the first time in all his life he had spoken those words.

  Reluctantly they pulled apart, and his mother’s cheeks glistened. She gave him a teary smile. “I’m so blessed to have you as my son.”

  Jace dropped his gaze again. She surely deserved better.

  “Truly,” she stressed. “You don’t realize your worth; not just to me, but to all those around you, and most importantly to Elôm. Somehow, someday, you’ll see.”

  Jace would have to take her at her word.

  She drew another shaky breath. “Goodbye, my son.”

  Already the dagger of separation tore through his heart, almost robbing his voice, reducing it to a hoarse whisper. “Goodbye, Mother.”

  It was too painful to linger any longer. Willing his body to respond, he moved toward the horses, pausing when he came to Rayad. The man gave him a look of deep sympathy. Jace cleared his throat, though his voice still came out rough. “Keep watch over Kyrin. Make sure she’s never alone.”

  Rayad nodded firmly. “We’ll keep her safe.”

  His heart heavy and sluggish, Jace reached Niton and pulled himself up into the saddle. Holden mounted beside him. Looking down on the small gathering, he said to his mother, “Say goodbye to Elanor for me.”

  “I will. She will be very sad that you have gone. She grew quite fond of you.”

  Jace pictured her face and how she had defended him at supper. How he wished he could have gotten to know his sister better and show her Niton.

  Controlling the sorrow as best he could, Jace took up the reins and looked off toward the wall. Freedom didn’t draw him quite the same as it had in the past. The pull to remain was almost as strong.

  “Jace.”

  He looked once more to his mother.

  She stepped closer. “Ilvaran. That was my maiden name, your name. Jace Ilvaran.”

  Jace couldn’t take a full breath for a moment. For twenty-one years, he had lived without a family name. No more.

  “Thank you,” he murmured, and forced himself to prompt Niton forward. He told himself not to look back once he passed them, but after a few yards he did. The same sort of grief he had experienced at Kalli and Aldor’s deaths coiled around his chest, constricting the air from his lungs. This wasn’t death, but it still hurt unbearably. When he looked ahead again, it took a few moments before his eyes cleared enough to see, and each breath he drew was small and halting.

  The hundred yards to the gate stretched on, each one tearing at his heart. Pain fought to consume him, but he tamped it down with all the strength he could manage. The only way he would get through this was to block his family and what he left behind from his mind and focus on the objective—safely escaping Ashwood.

  He and Holden drew near the five-foot-high surrounding wall. Once through, they could pick up the pace and leave the estate behind. Just before they reached it, a solid shape formed from the shadows on the other side and blocked their exit. The horses stopped, and Niton snorted, tossing his head at the sudden movement. Jace squeezed the reins and narrowed his eyes.

  “Slinking off into the night just as I suspected.”

  James’s hateful voice stoked a fire that burned away the sorrow for a moment. Jace struggled to contain it. He scanned the wall, expecting Rothas and his men to make an appearance, but it was only James.

  “Step aside,” Jace ground out. His uncle and the others had risked a lot to help him escape. He would not let James make it all for naught.

  The younger man shook his head, his fists on his hips. “We have unfinished business.”

  So this was personal. No wonder he hadn’t brought his father out with him.

  James took a step forward, slowly withdrawing the sword at his side.

  Jace scowled. “You don’t want to do this.”

  “You think I’m afraid of you?”

  “I think you should be.”

  James snorted and tipped his chin up. “I am the son of a knight. I’ve been trained since I was a child. I’m not afraid of a slave.”

  Jace glared fire at him. His brother had never had to fight day after day for his life. Stiffly, he dismounted, his blood warming in anticipation.

  “Jace,” Holden said in a low warning. “The sound of swords will bring every guard on the estate down on us.”

  Jace kept his gaze locked on James. He stepped toward his brother, leaving his sword where it hung on Niton’s saddle, and only stopped when James’s sword hovered a mere inch from his chest.

  “Last chance. Step aside.”

  James shook his head. “No. We’re going to have this out right here.” His sword point pricked into Jace’s skin. “Now take up your sword.”

 
; The familiar flow of raw energy surged from Jace’s blood into his nerves and muscles. His brother had made the wrong choice. Using his forearm against the flat of the blade, Jace batted James’s sword away and threw a right-hand punch before his brother could react. James staggered. Jace reached for his wrist, ripping the sword away, and tossed it into the bushes beside the wall. This left him open for a brief moment. His brother’s fist smashed into his ribs, driving the air from his lungs, but it only fueled the fire. He backhanded James hard across the chin.

  Stumbling away, James’s hand dropped to the dagger on his belt. Jace reacted in a moment and kicked his legs out from under him. James landed in a gasping heap just outside the wall. He scrambled to his hands and knees, but Jace kicked one of his hands, sending him back down. He pressed a knee down on his brother’s back and neck to pin him in the mud. James fought to wiggle free.

  “You are going to pay for—”

  Jace grabbed his wrist and wrenched his arm up behind his back. James groaned through his teeth, powerless. Here, Jace could have left him in a state he would never forget, exacting full revenge. He had wanted nothing more the night that his brother had tried to attack Kyrin. The fury of it still stirred within him, but as vile as James was, the fact remained that he was Jace’s brother. As much as he wished it didn’t matter, it did. Even after all he had done, Jace suddenly found it impossible to do him serious harm.

  Breathing loud and hard through his nose, James waited for Jace to act, a defiant scowl on his face. Jace looked down on him, a despicable, pathetic individual, but family nonetheless. His anger changed from loathing to disappointment and frustration.

  Jace pushed to his feet and hauled his little brother up with him. Dragging him along, he shoved him none too gently up against the wall. James struggled against him, but Jace grabbed the dagger still on his belt. James stilled when it flashed in front of his face. At last, fear lurked in the younger man’s otherwise petulant expression. Jace leaned close, looking him straight in the eyes. The fear grew at what James must have seen in his.

  “I know you despise the fact that we’re brothers. Well, so do I. You think I’m nothing because I’m half ryrik, but I would far rather be who I am than a vile man like you who preys on helpless girls. You think I’m an animal, but which of us is behaving just like the man who attacked our mother? I would never harm a woman like that, but you do it on a whim.”

  Jace breathed heavily after this impassioned speech, waiting for James to respond, but his brother just stared blankly. Prompted by a strong desire to make his brother understand, he acted on impulse. Before James could even flinch, Jace sliced the dagger across James’s cheek. Though not deep, it would surely leave a noticeable scar. James gasped out a cry, grabbing at his face as blood trickled from the wound.

  “What did you do!”

  “I’m making sure my point is well understood.” Jace brandished the dagger in his face again, gaining his full, wide-eyed attention. “Every time you take advantage of a woman, you scar her for life. Maybe you’ll remember that now every time you look in the mirror.”

  Satisfied at last, Jace released his hold on James and turned away. He took only a couple of steps before he spun back and said icily, “And if you dare lay so much as a finger on Lady Anne’s maid again, I will come back and finish this.”

  James seemed to wilt against the wall, any trace of arrogance evaporated. He didn’t respond, but Jace took his silence and cowering as submission.

  Tossing the dagger off with the sword, Jace mounted Niton again. As he and Holden rode out, James stayed backed up against the wall, his hand to his face as blood dripped onto his shirt. For that brief moment before they left him behind, Jace felt sorry for him.

  Kyrin stuffed the last of her maid’s dresses back into her pack and then rubbed her sore eyes. She wasn’t sure she had closed them at all last night with Jace on her mind. Had he made it out safely? They hadn’t received confirmation from Rayad yet, and she would remain on edge until she knew for certain. Anything could have happened between when Rayad had escorted her to her room for the night and now preparing to leave this morning. Surely they would have heard if something went wrong.

  She sighed and prayed once again for Jace’s safety. But he wasn’t the only one who drifted into her mind as she spoke to Elôm. During the night hours when she wasn’t praying for Jace, she had worked on mentally reading all the letters she had seen in the office. Things did not look good for Samara. Thank Elôm that they were returning to camp today. Trask needed to hear what she knew so they could warn Samara’s king of the danger. The fate of an entire country rested on the information she had locked away in her brain. The sooner she could share the burden, the better. She also had much to consider and discuss with the others about certain rumors coming out of Samara. The very thought of it filled her with questions as well as excitement over the possibilities.

  A knock tapped the door—Rayad’s knock. Kyrin’s heart stuttered a little as Anne let him in, and she immediately searched his face for news about Jace.

  “How did it go?” Anne asked.

  “Good.” Rayad lowered his voice. “As far as I know, Jace and Holden rode out just fine.”

  Kyrin let out a deep breath. Thank You, Elôm. Had she slept last night, she was sure she would have had nightmares of Rothas hanging Jace. Even now, the thought sent a chill down her arms.

  Anne closed the door to make sure no one would overhear them. “Does Rothas know yet?”

  “I’m not sure, but if he doesn’t, he will shortly.”

  “Well, Kyrin and I are all packed. You can let the others know to be ready. As soon as breakfast is finished, we’re leaving.”

  Rayad nodded and picked up two of Anne’s larger bags. Kyrin took the smaller one containing her things, and they followed Anne out of the room. Downstairs, Rothas’s upraised voice boomed from the drawing room.

  “This was Elian’s doing, wasn’t it?”

  “No.” Charles’s voice was quieter, but firm. “It was mine.”

  “But he helped, didn’t he?” Rothas snapped.

  Anne glanced at Rayad and Kyrin and tipped her head. Setting the bags down, they trailed her into the drawing room.

  Charles stood in the center of the room, facing down his brother-in-law. “He couldn’t exactly refuse my request for his help.”

  Rothas glared at him, his eyes like an enraged bull. “Oh, but I’m sure he was more than willing.” His gaze jumped to Rachel, who stood at her brother’s side. “And you were there too, weren’t you?”

  Rachel stood rigid and would not answer.

  Disgusted, Rothas went back to railing at Charles. “This is my estate. What happens here is my business, not yours.”

  “Yes,” Charles acknowledged, “but Jace is my nephew, and there’s no way I was about to let you hang him.”

  Rothas’s face turned a few shades darker. He reminded Kyrin of Daican when he had gone off on Prince Daniel in the palace library. She stayed close to Rayad in case the man lashed out in his anger.

  Suddenly, amidst the tension, Anne cleared her throat. Everyone turned to her, but her attention was on Rothas.

  “I’ve been informed that Jace is gone and another of my men with him.”

  “Have you?” Rothas replied in a condescending voice. “Or perhaps you were there too.”

  Anne straightened her spine. “Excuse me?” Her voice was razor sharp, and Kyrin almost smiled at the flicker of uncertainty in Rothas’s eyes. “Are you accusing me of some sort of conspiracy? Because I don’t think my father would be pleased by that, nor Lord Dunrick, should I take it up with him.”

  Rothas almost shook, his voice tight with suppressed fury. “Of course not. Forgive me.”

  Anne tipped her chin up, not allowing him off that easily. “It seems that’s all you’ve done since my arrival—accuse my staff, and now accuse me. If you want to know if I believe Jace is guilty, then I certainly do not. I do know your son made highly inappropriate adv
ances toward my maid. If you truly wish to find the guilty party, Sir Rothas, then I suggest starting with him.”

  Rothas opened his mouth to speak, but Anne wasn’t yet finished.

  “Now, I shall leave immediately after breakfast. Since you’ve driven away two of my security force, I don’t see that I have any other choice but to postpone my trip to Mareby and return home. Clearly, you care very little for the wellbeing of servants, neither your guests’ nor your own. If I can’t be assured of my people’s safety, then there’s no point in staying. And don’t think I won’t let my father know exactly what went on here, as well as my other acquaintances.”

  The room rang with silence. Kyrin could have applauded Anne for putting him down so soundly. Rayad’s wry expression agreed, and Charles looked to be fighting mightily to hold back a smile as he stared at the floor.

  When Rothas couldn’t come up with any response besides glowering at her, Anne turned to Rayad. “Go and prepare the men to leave.”

  Rayad nodded, and Kyrin caught the subtle hint of amusement in his voice. “Yes, my lady.”

  An hour after the incident in the drawing room, Kyrin followed the men outside to the courtyard, where their horses were prepared. Several minutes later, Anne joined them. Kyrin breathed a little easier now. There was no telling what Rothas could have done when she and Rayad had left Anne in the drawing room.

  “How was breakfast?” Rayad asked as they gathered around her.

  “Tense. But the curious thing was James. He came in sulking, and it looked like someone beat him up pretty good. He has a nasty cut on his face.”

  Kyrin sent a suspicious look toward Kaden. He, however, appeared just as surprised as the others, if not more than a little pleased over the news.

  “Lady Rachel questioned him about it, but he wouldn’t say what happened. Even Rothas seemed surprised. All I know is that James was awfully moody and didn’t look at me once. He barely touched his food either.” Anne paused, glancing toward the road. “Are you sure nothing happened when Jace and Holden left last night?”