“Got it. Anything else? Want me to tell Mother what’s up?”
“Yeah. But before you go, leave me one of those peach tarts.”
6
Caution
Caralas remained sitting by the fire, her eyes glued to the two tall figures standing on the parapet behind the compound wall. Although she wasn’t sure, she’d swear they were checking out the various campsites erected outside the fortress. Unlike the other figures who brandished swords, bows, or lances, these two kept their weapons sheathed, which made her believe they might be the battle lord…
…and the prince.
Another shudder went through her. Those eyes. Those coal red eyes. It was like they could see all the way through her, searing her. Burning hot enough to scorch her muscles and leave her with nothing but blackened bones to show she’d existed.
I am Mattox D’Jacques, Battle Prince of Alta Novis.
His voice was as dark as the rest of him, with his long black hair, mustache, and beard. Add the black tunic and pants, and he’d resembled some sort of walking, shadowy nightmare when he rose up next to their table with those flaming red eyes.
I am Mattox D’Jacques, Battle Prince of Alta Novis.
She bowed her head. She realized now the person who’d bumped into her when she’d walked into the mess hall was the same man. Had to be. There was no mistaking the voice.
The sound of approaching voices interrupted her train of thought. Her father and Borlee came around the corner of the tent, when the battle lord spotted her.
“Ah. I’d hoped you’d be here. Has anyone stopped by to inquire about me?”
“No.” Picking up a stick, she stirred the fire, flattening the coals so she could add another couple of pieces of wood to it.
“That’ll be all.” Edge dismissed his second and walked over to join his daughter, parking himself on the large log beside the fire.
“You look like you’ve swallowed something nasty,” she commented, noticing the sour look on his face.
He cast a sideways look at her. “I’ve been given good news and bad.”
“But you’re dwelling on the bad. Tell me that first and get it off your chest.”
“One of the men struck up a conversation with one of D’Jacques’ soldiers. While they were talking, another soldier showed up to relieve him. Thinking this was the time for the changing of the guard I was hoping to discover, he was about to come tell me, when he noticed the soldier stationed a few meters away wasn’t being replaced. He commented on it.” Edge ran a hand over his lower face. Grabbing a stick, he growled as he angrily threw it into the fire. “D’Jacques is a clever man. He doesn’t have his men changing shifts all at the same time. Each man has his own change of shift.”
“He staggers them?”
“Yes. That way it’s…ingenious.”
“It is,” Caralas agreed. “That way there’s not one big switchover, and it avoids some of the crowding and confusion that sometimes occurs. I’m surprised you haven’t implemented such a technique yourself. So if that’s the bad news, what’s the good?”
The man finally smiled. “The rumors we’ve been told are true. Mutah don’t have armies. They don’t have trained soldiers. Best of all, they don’t carry swords. Oh, some do, but the majority, from what we’ve learned so far, is that most of those who are armed are hunters. Game trackers. They prefer bows and arrows, and lances, and knives. Knives! Can you imagine me sending my men into battle armed with just a knife?” He made a rude sound. “It’s a wonder Mutah have survived as long as they have. Knives.” He chuckled.
She didn’t reply. Casting another glance up at the top of the immense wall, she almost missed his next comment.
“I was told D’Jacques and his son were seen walking the catwalk. Did they come by this way?”
“I think so.” She tried to recall if she’d seen the battle prince’s glowing red eyes. Did they glow? Or had she imagined it?
As if reading her mind, Edge threw another stick in the fire. “You looked shocked to see D’Jacques’ son. Those damn red eyes. Why?”
Caralas frowned at him. “Why?”
“Why the shocked look? I thought you said you knew everything about this battle lord and his family from those books you read.”
“The books never mentioned the color of his eyes, or anything about him, really. They end with the battle lady giving birth to a son, and then they return to Alta Novis where everyone thought they’d died after the massacre at Bearinger.”
