“Aye. The mountain range protects us, or it did until the Soolens made their move on Cindral Forest.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“Only rumors. Better they went through the forest than marching through here, though.” Yen frowned and looked back in the direction of his farm. “I’ll warn the townsfolk about those three riders. Could have been Soolen scouts.”
“Perhaps,” Dara said. Siv had plenty of enemies, and she wouldn’t be surprised if she and Vine weren’t the only people searching for him. Soolen scouts could be the least of their worries. She hoped Vine would be able to pick up a hint of Siv in the Air today.
The children paid little heed to their conversation. They darted ahead, getting more excited as they reached the borders of Roan Town. Like every settlement Dara had encountered in Trure, it was a rambling, spacious place. The odor of horses rose on the wind, along with the smell of mud and damp timber. The town had a small walled segment in the center of the sprawl, with just enough space for a grassy square, a ring of shops, and a small cluster of houses. Wooden guard towers oversaw the open gates.
“Just in case Soole comes this way,” Yen said, nodding at the towers. “Everyone from the town and surrounding farms could fit inside the walls. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it’s enough to reassure people there’s somewhere to run if Soole crosses our border. We have no high cliffs or Fissure to protect us here.”
Dara frowned, thinking of her safe childhood atop the mountain. The Peace of Vertigon was unique on the continent. Yen’s children lived with the threat of Soole almost on their doorstep. Whatever her father was doing in Vertigon, Dara hoped he would find some way to renew the Peace.
“Can I go to the sugar shop, Papa?” Jin asked, tugging on his father’s sleeve.
“Don’t eat anything unless you pay for it,” he said.
“I got my coppers.” Jin darted off across the town square.
“Be back by high noon!” Yen called after him.
Jin waved without looking back. A group of boys converged on him, popping out from all around the square and shouting his name. The whole pack entered the sugar shop together. Yen chuckled.
“Madame Halder will have my hide for loosing those boys on her shop.”
“Will you come to the fabric store with me now, Dara?” Kol asked, grabbing her hand.
Kay latched onto her other hand. “And then visit the blacksmith with me? I want to show Master Mell your sword!”
“If it’s okay with your father,” Dara said.
“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours,” Yen said. “Watch out for each other.”
He disappeared in the direction of a tavern at the edge of the square. Dara would have preferred to go with him to hear the news, but the twins were looking up at her with wide, eager eyes. She let them pull her across the square to a cozy shop with a slanted roof and a green door. Inside, an explosion of colors and textures met their eyes. Princess Selivia would have squealed in delight.
Dara wasn’t much help with Kol’s fabric selection. She favored the black, soft gray, and blue textiles, which were too boring for the young girl. Kol eventually settled on a bolt of vivid-green wool she was sure would impress Vine. While Kol chatted with the shopkeeper, Kay asked Dara endless questions about sword fighting. They hadn’t hidden the fact that both Dara and Vine were duelists, and Kay had already declared that their visit was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
Dara was wary of the shopkeeper, though, and she answered the questions with care. She avoided using any names. The sensation that she was being watched had returned. She was probably being paranoid. Who could be interested in her all the way out in Roan Town? Her parents probably didn’t even know this little town existed.
By the time Kol completed her purchase and they reemerged into the sunny square, it was nearly lunchtime.
“Can we go see Master Mell now?” Kay asked.
“It’s almost high noon,” Kol said. “Papa will be looking for us.”
“But I want him to meet Dara!”
“Maybe we’ll have time after the noon meal,” Dara said. “I’m hungry. Is your father—?”
She stopped abruptly. Yen stood in the shade outside the tavern across the square, speaking to a lean man with sandy hair and a sharp nose. The stranger wore a red coat. For a moment, Dara thought it was Bolden Rollendar. But that was impossible. Siv had killed Bolden when he attacked the Great Hall with a squad of swordsmen. His body had been on the floor when Dara returned to confront her father. So who was this man?
Yen looked up then, his eyes going straight to Dara and his daughters, his face unreadable. When Dara glanced back at his companion to get a closer look, the man had disappeared.
“There’s Papa!” Kol said. She broke into a run across the square, eager to show him her purchase.
Dara followed more slowly with Kay, scanning the square for any sign of the sandy-haired stranger. Why had he disappeared so quickly? His clothes had looked finer than those of the other townsmen, out of place. It couldn’t have been a Rollendar, could it?
“Good shopping?” Yen asked.
“It was grand,” Dara said. “Did you learn anything?”
“No news that would interest you,” Yen said.
“Who were you talking to, Papa?” Kay asked.
“I wasn’t talking to anyone,” Yen said brusquely. He didn’t meet Dara’s eyes. “Let’s order up some stew.”
They ate lunch at the wooden tables outside the tavern to make the most of the winter sunshine. Jin soon joined them, his fingers sticky with sugar. Yen said nothing about his mysterious companion, and Dara couldn’t coax any additional information out of him.
“Did anyone in town see those three strange riders?” she asked.
“Afraid not,” he said. “Perhaps I imagined them.”
“Imagined.”
Yen shrugged. “It was growing dark.”
Dara didn’t press him further. Yen seemed fidgety. He kept looking up at the tavern and, apart from answering direct questions from his children, he didn’t talk for the rest of the meal. It was as if a shadow had been cast over him despite the bright noon sky. The children didn’t notice, but by the time they headed back toward the farm, Dara had to wrap her hands around her sword hilt to keep them from quaking. She expected disaster to rain down on them at any moment. Something had changed in Yen after speaking to that stranger. He was no longer the unassuming farmer who had welcomed them into his home last night. The sooner she and Vine could get back on the road, the better.
The younger children ran out to the road to greet them when they returned to the farm, Rumy trundling along in their midst. Shir had apparently warmed up to him in Dara’s absence, because she rode on his back, giggling madly.
“He’s so cute,” she said as she tumbled off into the tough winter grass. “I love him!”
“Did you buy anything or see anyone, Dara?” Ber asked solemnly.
“I didn’t see anyone,” Dara said. She looked directly at Yen, and he met her gaze without blinking. The children scrambled around them, still giggling and chattering, but a chill laced the air that had little to do with the wintry breeze. What had he been talking about with that stranger? And what had the stranger told him about her? She couldn’t wait around to find out.
Vine rose from her cross-legged position when Dara entered the farmyard.
“Dara! I’m so pleased you’re back. I found him!”
“What?” Forgetting about Yen, Dara hurried up the porch steps to grab Vine’s hand. “Where is he?”
“I sensed him at high noon,” Vine said. “I believe he is traveling west toward—”
“Let’s go west, then,” Dara interrupted before Vine could go into more detail about their movements. She resisted the urge to look at Yen. “We should leave now.”
“Aren’t you going to stay for dinner?” Kay said.
“Yeah, and teach us how to sword fight!” Jin shouted. He waved a st
ick in the air, making clanging sounds.
“Meditation is tiring work, Dara,” Vine said. “And now that I have a direction, I’m sure we don’t have to r—”
“We should leave now,” Dara repeated, widening her eyes and hoping Vine would get the hint. “He already has a head start, and we don’t want him to get too far away.”
“Very well,” Vine said. She still looked puzzled, but she helped Dara extract herself from the children and gathered her belongings in preparation for their departure.
Dara was sorry to disappoint the children, but she no longer felt safe in the warm little farmhouse. They packed quickly and finished saddling their horses before the afternoon shadows stretched much farther across the farmyard. Roma insisted on packaging up extra food for them, and Vine pressed a few coins into her hands in thanks. Roma looked as if she wanted to refuse the money, but she accepted after a glance at her large brood.
At some point while they were preparing to leave, Yen disappeared.
All the children gathered in the farmyard to say good-bye. Dara and Vine accepted several rounds of hugs and promised to give Rumy extra treats from each of the children. Dara climbed into her saddle while Vine went back for a final bout of good-byes. Yen was nowhere in sight, and Roma didn’t comment on his absence.
A harsh wind blew across the farmyard, whipping through the dry, dead grass. Dara felt that itch between her shoulder blades again. It was past time they were on the move.
“Thank you for your hospitality!” Vine called. “Do let us know if you’re ever in Vertigon.”
“Bye, Lady Vine! Bye, Rumy! Bye, Dara!”
The children ran out to the road and waved vigorously as Dara and Vine rode away toward Roan Town. When Dara turned back for one more look at the little group, a tall, thin figure emerged on the road behind them. She was pretty sure it was Yen, walking back from wherever he had gone. Someone knew they were on the move.
“Dara, darling,” Vine said as soon as they were out of earshot of the family, “would you like to explain why we departed in such a hurry? Was fabric shopping that bad?”
“I think Yen gave us away,” Dara said. She explained what she had seen in the shadow of the Roan Town tavern and how Yen had treated her coldly following the conversation. “My theory is that was one of Von Rollendar’s brothers and Yen is his informant.”
“Goodness!” Vine said. “I can see why you wanted to leave so quickly. He looked like Bolden, you say?”
“Could have been his older brother.”
Vine tapped a finger against her lips. “That sounds like Lord Vex. He’s the youngest of the three. His nephew always did resemble him.”
Bolden Rollendar’s three uncles had left Vertigon without warning shortly before Bolden and his father launched their coup attempt. There was a pretty good chance they’d recognize Dara. They would definitely remember Vine. And they’d be eager to know Siv was on the loose in Trure even if they hadn’t been sent out to find him. The Rollendars had always been remarkably well informed about what was happening in the Lands Below. Why wouldn’t they have an informant here?
“I think we should cut around the outskirts of Roan Town and take the road west from there,” Dara said. “I don’t particularly want any Rollendars to see us strolling through town.”
“I quite agree,” Vine said. “Have no fear. I believe King Siv is moving to the southwest. My Senses suggest he’s angling toward Kurn Pass. If we take the Ridge Road straight west to the High Road, we’ll have a chance of catching up with him.”
“Kurn Pass?”
“It’s where the High Road cuts through the Linden Mountains. If he’s taken through the Pass, he’ll be beyond the boundaries of Trure.”
“Why are they taking him southwest?” Dara said. She would have expected the trail to lead them southeast toward Soole.
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Vine said. She clucked to Goldenflower and spurred her off the road to begin the detour around Roan Town, appearing in good spirits despite this new threat. Dara almost envied her nonchalance.
After a final look to make sure they weren’t being followed, Dara rode after her, one hand resting on her Savven blade. She wished Yen hadn’t found out it was a Fire Blade. Could he truly be one of the Rollendar informants? He was Vertigonian, and he had a lot of mouths to feed. She could understand why he might try to sell information. What would the Rollendar uncles do with it, though? She thought their house had been soundly defeated.
And why in all the Firelord’s realm was Siv moving southwest? He wasn’t being dragged back to Vertigon, or to Soole apparently. Who besides her father and the advancing Soolen army would want him? And did they want him dead? Dara squared her shoulders and rode back into the wilderness. Wherever he was, she had to find him before anyone else did.
22.
Training
IT turned out that when you were responsible for no one but yourself, people could still tell you what to do. Siv should have anticipated that.
Kres woke them before dawn, chipper as a furlingbird, and demanded that they all stretch and do a set of exercises (squats, push-ups, pull-ups on a sturdy tree branch) before they began the day’s journey. It was nice to be able to move around again, and Siv almost didn’t mind the workout. He also enjoyed the smell of the tree grove, the sun on his face, and the fact that he didn’t have to lie around like a hogtied greckleflush. Being a hostage had gotten old fast.
Kres set a grueling pace when they finally mounted their horses and set off into the trees. Siv adopted Chala Choven’s dun stallion for himself, figuring Chala was the type to splurge on a quality steed. It wasn’t long before they reached the edge of the grove and looked out on the rolling expanse of the eastern Truren plains.
“It will be a brisk ride from here,” Kres said. He breathed deeply, gazing out over the plain as if it were his own personal dominion. “Have to make it back to the city before the season begins. I don’t want to miss a single Dance. We’ll have a winning team this year, children. I can feel it.”
“How far is it to Pendark?” Siv asked.
“We are a week from Kurn Pass,” Kres said. “We’ll spend a few days traversing the Pass, then we’ll drink until dawn in Fork Town as tradition demands. After that it’ll be less than a week to Pendark if we don’t encounter any trouble in the Darkwood.”
“I’m out of practice,” Siv said, rubbing the red marks on his wrists. “I’ll need to work on my dueling to be ready to fight in less than three weeks.” Not that he’d still be with them in three weeks. But a little training wouldn’t hurt. He could impress Dara when he returned to her.
“Who said anything about dueling?” Latch said. He heeled his horse forward to ride beside Kres. “You’re not giving him my spot.”
“Have no fear, Latch, my boy,” Kres said. “I pegged you for a knifeman, Sivren.”
“A knifeman?”
“All you have to do is take down your competitors the way you did your erstwhile captor.”
Siv scratched his chin, where his usual casual stubble was becoming a proper beard. Hopefully it would keep people from recognizing him once he made it back to the High Road. A knifeman, eh? He recalled when he and Dara had been attacked in the tunnels near the secret dueling cavern in Vertigon. He had killed a man with a kitchen knife to prevent him from stabbing her. Charn made two. Maybe he could handle himself in a knife fight.
With the memory of that night came the image of Dara’s face, her eyes on his, the way it had felt to hold her face in his hands, the powerful urge he’d felt to kiss her. He fought to clear the image from his mind. He missed Dara with the intensity of a thousand Fire Lanterns. Yet guilt accompanied her memory. He’d brought her nothing but trouble.
“Don’t look so serious,” Kres said with a laugh, jerking Siv’s attention back to the pen fighters and the fields of Trure spreading before him. “I intend to train you with knives starting right after lunch. I won’t throw you in unprepared.”
“
I’m supposed to have the after-lunch training slot,” Latch muttered. “And isn’t he a spy?”
Quick as lightning, Kres seized Latch by the coat, hauling him halfway out of his saddle. Latch yelped in surprise.
“I’ve had enough of your attitude, son,” Kres said, his cheery demeanor replaced by a sudden, dangerous quiet. “Do we have a problem?”
“No, sir.” Still halfway off his horse, Latch kept himself from falling with a death grip on the saddle.
“I made allowances after what happened to your sweetheart, but I will not have you questioning my decisions. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Latch’s eyes flitted to Siv for an instant. He looked away quickly, pretending to be very interested in a bird passing overhead, but it was too late. Latch had seen him watching. This likely wouldn’t do anything to improve their friendship.
Finally Kres released Latch and rolled his shoulders with a crack.
“Now then,” he said pleasantly. “I wonder what kind of bird that is. The plumage is lovely.”
Latch regained his balance in the saddle and broke into a canter to catch up with Gull, who was already riding into the plains. He didn’t look back. Siv was relieved Latch hadn’t decided to fall in behind him instead. He’d have to watch out for the fellow. He’d also be careful not to question too many of Kres’s decisions. Knife fighting it was—until he made his escape.
They rode for several hours after leaving the grove behind. The Truren plains spread around them, nothing but rustling, silvery grass interrupted by the occasional copse of trees and distant farm. It was an idyllic, empty land, not at all like the carefully divided farms around Rallion City. Siv had never been this deep into eastern Trure before. The vast expanse was a relief after his long captivity. It made him feel like a new man.
At high noon, they stopped at the ruins of an old stable to eat lunch. The rain of the night before had turned the ground to mud, so they sat on the low stone wall of the stable while they ate. The roof had caved in, leaving only wild brush and the shadow of a morrinvole burrow inside. They shared an unidentifiable jerky and rock-hard flatbread, and Siv found himself remembering the castle cooks with fondness again. Still, eating flatbread and jerky with the wind in his face and no sack over his head was a far cry better than being force-fed with his hands bound. He was feeling positively cheerful.
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