“I assume everything is in order?” Silas asked.
Hendry nodded, and Edmund propped himself up as best he could.
“Silas, I insist you let me stay,” he begged.
“It’s already decided. I don’t want to hear any more on it.”
“I cannot live with myself if I get you killed.”
Silas shook his head. “You will be just fine. You’ll ride with Hendry on one of our horses.”
“And then what?” he pressed, his green eyes tortured. “I’m useless like this. I’d only slow you down.”
I exhaled loudly, and all the men turned to me.
“Where we are headed…there is a skilled blacksmith,” I said carefully. “Specifically, one who works with enchantment.” My eyes went to Edmund. “Igon made sure to tell me of it the day your people attacked—told me the blacksmith had made his wife an arm, as she was born without one.” I couldn’t help but laugh in amazement. “A fully working arm. He knew this would happen. All of it.” I smiled softly. “Which means that you, Edmund, must be one of the good ones.”
Edmund blinked, “I’ve never heard of such a thing, but,” he smiled and continued, “if it means I can stay by Elowen without putting her in danger, then I am all in.”
We were all startled when the door opened, Roland wearing a smirk before closing the door behind him.
I clenched my fists, and Silas unsheathed his sword.
“Relax, boss man,” he crooned while holding up his hands. “You didn’t think you could leave without me, did you?”
“You’re joining us?” Edmund asked, quickly hiding his happy smile when Silas shot him a glare.
“You heard me,” Roland replied smugly.
Silas shifted his head back to Roland. “We don’t want you to come with us,” he stated sternly.
His friends were clearly conflicted. Silas frowned at Hendry. “You didn’t invite him, did you?”
Hendry cringed, and Silas’s frown deepened.
What did Roland do to make Silas dislike him?
“You don’t want an additional supporter, Your Highness?” Roland asked, crossing his arms.
“I have no issue in killing you, Roland.”
I looked at Silas incredulously, and I could tell he was being serious.
“What’s the problem with one more?” I asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
Silas shot me a scowl. “The problem is it’s another mouth to feed, another person to worry about getting us killed. Regardless,” he pointed to Roland, “I do not trust you, Roland.”
“I have given you no reason not to trust me, and you know it,” he accused, then ran a hand through his brown hair. “Besides, I already know of your plan. I’m coming.”
I glanced at Silas. “We don’t have much time. Let’s not waste it on this,” I whispered.
“Are you saying I kill him?”
I gaped at him. “No!”
That earned me a smirk from Roland.
Silas groaned, sheathing his sword. “Very well,” he grumbled.
