“Aye,” Emun agreed.
“To King Jacob!” Bruced hoisted his cup.
“To King Jacob!” boomed everyone but Rellen and Garrett.
Stern but smiling, Jacob made his way around the table to greet his supporters. He cut a daunting figure in his armor: shoulders, chest, and forearms buried under Lorsmir’s shining steel. He circled the table like an advancing army, fair crushing the hand of each man he shook, even Bruced’s. Hardly one to shy before any man, Rellen rose, but found himself speechless when Jacob grasped his hand.
“Your father says only good things of you, Rellen.” No flattery lived in Jacob’s voice. “In Ardenn, in all fields, you’ve honored us.”
“Thank you,” Rellen said, unwontedly meek.
Jacob clapped him on the shoulder. “And you’ll do well in Mormist. The soldiers in Barrok know of your successes. They’re all you’ll need to keep the peace.”
“I hope so.” He wondered where his confidence had fled to.
Jacob went to Farid and Emun, clasping them as closely as brothers, whispering things Rellen tried but failed to hear. He expected to sit right back down and endure ten hours’ worth of planning and strategizing, but after speaking with the Councilors, Jacob and his men swept toward the door without ceremony. The assembly seemed at a sudden end.
“I go now to climb the steps of Graehelm Keep.” Jacob halted twenty steps from the archway. “Whether or not they’ll accept me as king, I do not know, but if kingship is my fate, I swear to pay it tribute till my end. To all of you, I say farewell for now. Lord Emun, Lord Farid, I shall wait for you outside.”
A pair of servants flung the hall doors open. Jacob and his men marched into the daylight, leaving everyone bewildered save Emun and Farid. When at last Jacob was gone and the door thundered shut behind him, Rellen looked to his father. “He waits for you outside? What does that mean?”
“I leave today, my son,” said Emun. “Before I go to join with Ahnwyn, I must go to the capital. Jacob needs our support, and we need his.”
He blinked hard in disbelief. It felt like too much, too soon. He opened his mouth to argue, but no words fell out.
“Rellen, you don’t understand.” Emun’s stature seemed small again. “You must go to Mormist, and Farid and I must remain with Jacob until he is crowned. Most of Graehelm wishes him to be king, but this news of Mormist will not sit well. Farid and I must act as his advocates until he climbs the throne. I will journey to aid Lord Ahnwyn, but not until Grae has its king.”
Rellen glared to the ceiling, the walls, and the floor. His father’s hall and the faces of his friends seemed hazy, blurred by the blood pounding in his head. “So that’s all?” he asked. “I’m to root out this vaguest of troubles with my bare hands?”
“Don’t be foolish,” said Emun. “Every man in this room except Farid and I will go with you, as will half of our house guard. You’ll be our eyes, nothing more. If a rebellion begins, the armies of Barrok will come, and when they do, all those against us shall fall. You’ll take Dennov also, who will need your protection most of all. Use him. Use his knowledge to unearth the Lords’ plot. He knows everything that I do, and it’s him we trust to help you.”
“Father, the truth now.” His jaw tensed, his temples pounding. “Is this war?”
A slow, solemn breath, a patient survey of all the men in the hall, and Emun’s voice became as cold as stone. “I pray it isn’t, my son. Though we’ve no gods to hear it, I pray every eve. I’m sorry for all I’ve put you through. You should know that your mother knew little of this. Whatever happens, never blame her for the path we’ve set you on.”
Emun rounded the table and walked toward the door. “All of you,” he commanded. “At my heels.”
It all happened too quickly. Emun crossed the shadowed hall and flung its doors open, allowing the morning wind to rush like a raging river into the keep. Rellen trailed his father by only a step. He cut beneath the archway and into the courtyard, where he saw his father’s company already preparing to leave. The sight of it stunned him. No one said anything to me. But look, here they are.
Forty men, each garbed in bright steel mail and azure shirts, waited upon forty horses. At the front of their company, two riderless stallions, shining under the sun like bronze statues, chewed at the courtyard’s emerging grass.
Farid’s and Father’s. Ready to ride.
He halted just a few steps beyond the door. He shielded his eyes from the sun, watching as his father gripped the horn of his saddle and drew himself up with a grunt. “You might’ve said something.” He squinted to see Emun’s face. “I can keep secrets, you know. It’s not as if I lie in bed with Nentham.”
Emun trotted close. “Forgive me, my son.”
“Must you leave today? Right this moment? I feel more than a bit unprepared. A new king, the Three Lords, and a war with shadow men from some far and miserable land. Not exactly the wisest day to up and leave us.”
Even in the sunlight, Emun’s eyes were grey and grim as iron drabs. “It’s unfair, but it’s the way of things. Don’t think for one moment you aren’t ready. Follow Dennov to the Mormist city of Tratec. Don’t feel the need to extend yourself too far, for the warriors of Barrok and Triaxe shall arrive soon enough to relieve you. Do only what you can, only what is safe. I’ve more faith in you than you know.”
“What about Mother? You can’t simply ride away on a whim.”
“My boy, this is no whim,” said Emun. “Your mother knows we must leave. I slept none last night in telling her. Give her my love, your love, before you go.”
“I will, not that it’ll matter.”
Emun jerked on the reins and wheeled his horse about. His gaze fell away from Rellen’s like a strip of twilight stealing the last light of the day. The ranks of Gryphon and House Nurė looked on, all eyes fixed on father and son.
“We shall reunite in better times,” Emun said as he trotted away. “Do as you did in Ardenn, and you’ll know no failure. This may be farewell, but it’s not forever.”
Emun gave a last smile before falling into the riders’ ranks beside Farid. Already mounted, Jacob raised and lowered his fist, and the riders were off. The ringing of stirrups and the thunder of hooves shook the courtyard like an earthquake. Clumps of soil and newborn grass were thrown into the air like confetti, the only fanfare for their leaving. Rellen watched them gallop across the courtyard, through the gates of the outer wall, and down the main thoroughfare of Gryphon until they were no more than specks upon the street. When they were gone, he passed silently through his friends to reenter the darkness of the keep.
Bitterness at his father’s absence crept into his heart. He halted in the hall’s archway, pausing in the shadows between the gilded light of day and the cool darkness inside. I should have overslept. He gazed into the keep, lost in a daydream of all things to come. Perhaps Father would’ve sent Garrett instead.
A firm hand came to rest upon his shoulder, startling him from his thoughts. “This is a small thing, you’ll see,” Bruced told him, squeezing the color from his arm.
“Aye.” Marlos stopped at his side. “Before summer’s end, we’ll be back home.”
He snapped out of his daydream. He looked to the faces of Bruced and Marlos, Garrett and Saul, even Therian and Dennov, and he knew these were the worthiest men in all of Graehelm. At least Father left me with capable men, he mused. He could’ve taken them all with him, then where would I be?
“We await your first command, Lord Gryphon,” said Garrett.
“Yes,” Bruced boomed. “Our liege and lord. Mormist awaits your mastery.”
He faced his companions. Bruced, burly as a bear, stood smiling beside Marlos. Calm and dangerous as ever, Garrett crossed his black-clad arms and set his palm upon the pommel of his sword. Even Saul, newest recruit of House Gryphon, seemed as patient and steadfast as a soldier who owed his life to Graehelm.
“All of you are with me? To the end?” he asked, to which all the men nodded.
“Well…we have to leave soon. Something tells me there’s little time to spare. Mormist may need our protection or may wish to destroy us. I don’t know. Father didn’t say. But we can’t know the answer from here.”
“Forty men-at-arms will join us,” said Marlos. “Half of the remaining Gryphon guard, and the finest of the lot. I can have them ready to leave as early as tomorrow. Just give me the word.”
He hesitated. If this was to be his first command as lord of Gryphon, he meant to do it right.
“Well?” Marlos pried. “Shall I have them mounted and ready for sunrise?”
He closed his eyes. He put his hand to his temple, closing off his thoughts to the world. “No. Not tomorrow. Not yet.” He stunned everyone when he said it. “I need three days, just three. On the fourth we’ll ride to Tratec. Have every man ready to leave by then. I must go now. Someone’s waiting for me.”
“Someone?” grumbled Marlos. “What someone?”
“Why wait three days when we can go now?” Bruced shaped his fingers into meaty fists. “There’re Lords whose heads need cracking.”
He glared back at them. He did not intend so harsh a look, but he gave it nonetheless. “This is the way of it. There’s something…someone who needs my attention.”
He stepped past his friends and into the sunlight again. Their gazes burned at his back, but he willed himself not to feel it. No matter that his friends hung in a cloud of questions, he left them to think whatever they liked.
He strode away from the keep, breaking into a bolt, sweeping across the courtyard and out into the city.
Secrets
Alone, Andelusia walked through the sylvan wonder of Grandwood.
The forest, wet with morning dew, dripped down upon her. Her feet were bare and dirty, her dress soaked at the hem, and her scarlet hair damp like strands of saturated fire. She minded none of it. Spring had set into motion a cascade of life, the greenness tumbling into the forest like a magnificent waterfall. She wandered amongst the flowers, who lifted their stems to reach sunlight wherever they could. She crept between the trees, where rolling patches of soft grass grew. The subtle fragrance of sweet nectar drifted along the cool, gentle breezes, settling into every corner of her senses.
Grandwood is my domain now, my home away from Gryphon.
Today more than ever, her spirits soared. She had never felt like this before. The air felt warmer than it was, the midmorning breezes delivering not chills but flushes. If I am happy, it is Rellen’s fault. Her heart purred each time she thought of him. Every tree she rounded, she hoped to see him, and whenever the forest went quiet and the birds ceased singing, she listened for his bootfalls in the brush. She could hardly wait until his meeting was ended and he came to the forest to find her. The anticipation was almost more than she could stand.
Morning grew late. Midday drew nearer, and as she wandered the woods, her belly rumbled. Not at all worried about Rellen’s absence, she approached the forest’s edge, where shadow and sunshine collided. I will go to market, she thought. A sweetloaf and a cup of cider will do, and then I will return.
But after a glance across the dewy fields, she saw Rellen striding for the forest.
Her hunger was forgotten, and her heart battered hot against her ribs. She tucked away the silver coin Saul had given her for the market and sprinted to Grandwood’s outermost oak.
“You are late.” She danced merrily into the grass, twice circling him before planting her most powerful hug upon him. “I thought maybe you forgot.”
“How could I forget?” he said glumly.
She noticed the difference in him right away. He was not his usual jovial self. Seeming immune to her affections, he shot a dark gaze through and beyond her, further into the forest.
“Rellen?” she chirruped. “What is the matter?”
He shrugged her question off and cut deeper into the woods. She trailed close behind him, following him like a wisp of wind until he plunked at the base of a wide-bottomed oak. Amid a tangle of roots he rested his feet and removed his boots, tossing them aside.
“The meeting…” She crouched in the grass in front of him. “It went poorly?”
He dragged his palm down his forehead and over his chin. When he spoke, his voice seemed hardly his own, but another’s. “I have to go, Ande,” he said. “I have to leave you behind.”
His words leapt into her heart like a sword. “Go? But why?”
“Mormist. The Three Lords. The Furies. My father,” he explained, and she understood. “I’m called to duty, and I must earn my honor by it. There’s no other way.”
“For how long?” Her voice cracked.
“Months.” He grimaced. “Maybe years. Too long in either case. I can’t help but think that by the time I return, you’ll be long gone from Gryphon.”
She wanted to touch his cheek, wrap her arms around him, and set a soft, sympathetic kiss upon his lips. If not for her heart snapping in two, she would have. “I knew,” she murmured. “I always did. You told me about your father, and I guessed the day would come. Saul spoke of rumors and half-hidden truths, and I worried. But I did not think it would be today, so soon after winter, and so suddenly.”
He met her gaze for the first time today. She sensed countless emotions roiling in the dark places behind his eyes. “I asked Marlos for three days to spend with you.” He tried to smile, but failed. “He wasn’t happy. Nor were the others.”
“Who will go with you?”
He counted their names on his fingers. “Garrett, Bruced, Therian, and the Mormist nobleman, Dennov. Marlos too, leading half the city’s guard. Even your sour uncle Saul means to come. I’m sure he told you about his new oath.”
“The oath to your father, yes. But leaving me behind, no. He failed to mention that.”
He furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry to hear it. Saul says he’s got no purpose in returning to Elrain. He said he has little family, no wife, and no children. He looks more a scholar than a soldier, but Father and Garrett seem to think otherwise. They think he can fight.”
“I will be alone again. I came all this way. I suppose I was stupid to think Saul would chaperone me forever.”
Rellen rose from the shadow of the oak and came to her. He took her arms and guided her to her feet. The roughness of his palms felt so sweet against her skin. Any other time, she would have melted.
“Ande.” He smoothed her arms to her sides. “The people of Gryphon have grown to love you. I know. I’ve seen it. Since I’m lord of Gryphon until Father returns, I declare you may stay in the keep as long as you like. You’ll have your own room, as much food as you can eat, and enough silver to spend at market from now until forever. Anything to keep you from leaving, I’ll give you.”
“You mean that?”
“I do. I want you waiting when I come back. I know it’s selfish, but…”
Shivering, she took one step away. Her thoughts fled to Gryphon, which had seemed a paradise only an hour ago. She feared if Rellen left and did not return, the hard walls and high grey towers would feel like a prison, not a home. “Gryphon is not mine.” Her gaze fled to the trees. “Everyone here has their own life, their own problems. If you and Saul leave, I will be just another mouth to feed. I will be invisible again, just as in Cairn.”
Rellen took her hand, but her fingers fell from his like shards of glass too sharp to hold. “How could you ever be invisible?” He twirled his fingers through a lock of her hair. “Everyone here likes you, even Garrett, and he likes no one. You should stay. You can live in my tower while I’m gone. You can have the run of the keep. We’ll be back before you notice we’re gone.”
“You tell such sweet lies.”
He flushed. “I would never.”
A knowing smile, and she lowered herself into the grass. Her hair spilled in waves over her shoulders, the gooseflesh rising wherever the dewy grass grazed her skin. Rellen sank with her, but she did not look at him. My time in Gryphon is ending, she knew.
Nothing he
says can make it otherwise.
“When I go, will you return to Cairn?” he questioned. “Please say you won’t.”
She looked to the sky and gazed through the leaves, both of which seemed greyer than twenty breaths ago. Rellen pawed at her knees and tried to catch her attention in a hundred little ways, but she let herself become lost to him.
It was then her idea struck.
She returned from her daydream like a droplet of rain falling from the sky, her eyes flickering with renewed hope. “I could go with you,” she said.
“Go with me?” His eyes widened.
“Why should I stay here? To be with you, to be with Saul and my friends, I would go anywhere. Elrain, Mormist, anywhere.” She rose back to her feet, her dress gathering at her heels like a flower unfolding, a soft, serene smile breaking on her lips.
He stood with her, but did not smile. His eyes were filled with twilight, the shaking of his head like a sad pendulum. “You can’t go where I go,” he told her.
She lifted her chin. “Why not?”
“Too dangerous. Much too dangerous. There are those in Mormist who’ll curse our presence, and those who’ll want us dead. It can’t happen. You don’t belong in the middle of this. No. It’s impossible.”
She caught herself before she uttered another sound. She remembered the dark, damp gully in Cairn, the clutch of Aramar’s fingers, and the moment she had decided to leave home. In her heart, she knew what she had to do. “Fine.” She pretended to be upset. “I will wait here for you. For one summer or twenty, I will not carve you from my heart. I will hold you close.”
Rellen came alive. He gave her the only look she wanted: utter relief and happiness. “You swear it?”
“I do.” Her small smile gave no secrets away. “But only if you walk with me.”
Down the Dark Path (Tyrants of the Dead Book 1) Page 15
