“I hear the Sentry thought you fought well,” I said, desperate to speak of anything but eternities at Stonegate.
Kael’s grin widened. “Truly? It is quite a compliment coming from Ashwood. He battles like he is a spectral, untouchable. All those Draven bastards recognized him as one of their countrymen and fled from sight.”
I gingerly placed another bundle of dried herbs on the pyre. “I heard a ravager spoke with him.”
Thane had not let on the king’s melder had flung arrows into the trees and risked her neck.
I wanted to keep it that way. Even with Kael. More than anyone he would chastise me for the stupidity and likely request a second Stav join Ashwood in my constant supervision.
Kael added bits of silver florin for the Stav to take with them to Salur. “I did hear a ravager spoke to the Sentry. Mad fool kept shouting about duty, like Ashwood was here to servethem.” He chuckled. “The bastard died with a look of shock when the Sentry cut through his skull.”
To me, Dravenmoor had done nothing to deserve Roark Ashwood’s service after trying to slaughter him in childhood.
“I think I saw Skul Drek, Ly.” Kael’s voice lowered.
“What?”
He nodded. “I think I saw him in the trees. There was this darkness, so thick I couldn’t make out where the soil began and the trees touched the sky. But for a fleeting moment, right when the final ravager fell, I could’ve sworn I saw his eyes. Like the molten hell—red and wretched.” After a breath, Kael laughed and shook his head. “Sounds mad. Perhaps it was a trick of the mind. Hard to know with all the blood and chaos.”
I laughed and followed behind him, but I could not shake the discomfiting feeling there was more to what Kael saw than any of us knew.
There was a shift sincethe slaughtered guards were found beyond the walls. Desire to break free was now edged in sharp fear.
I despised the helplessness, the dependence on men who held blades that had torn my life apart. Edvin’s skill with the mallet had earned him undeniable respect from the Stav captain who led the smiths of the guard, men and women who pounded anvils and aided bone crafters in forming Stav armor and blades.
The light had not returned to Edvin’s eyes, anger and a dark rage still festered under the surface, but his fury was now homed in on breaking iron and steel and sweating out his pent disdain.
Hilda said he still spoke little, but she anticipated it was how her brother would be until Salur. The emptiness from bidding his wife and young ones farewell was a stain on his soul.
What was most unsettling was Roark Ashwood. Where I had kept the secret of our battle in the old tree house, the prince ardently boasted about my aim to his Sentry.
For a moment, Ashwood looked at me with fleeting concern before briskly chastising the prince until Thane shoved his shoulder and ended the conversation.
After the battle at the gates, I looked at the Sentry differently. Impossible not to when I’d seen the way he killed, the ferocity in his devotion to keeping me, the prince, and all of Stonegate protected.
He was a man made of brutality and secrets, but there was loyalty beneath the surface.
I did not resent his presence as much; some mornings I almost anticipated the sight of my dark shadow.
Twelve days inside the gates, and I stood in the round entryway of the palace, hair braided, boots tied, and a dagger sheathed to each thigh.
I was to train with the Stav Guard. With Kael.
Emi was in the corridor when I emerged from my chambers.
“You wake before the sun now, yet all other days you are a petulant child when I try to rouse you.”
I didn’t even fight the grin. “Kael and I used to spar as children. This almost feels normal. I’ve missed it.”
The sparring fields were dotted with Stav. Most had removed their tunics and battled one another with dull blades, bearded axes, or practiced footwork with captains.
Near a rack of daggers and knives, Kael wrapped his wrists.
“Ly.” He waved, grinning. “Ready to fall on your ass?”
I plucked a stiletto knife off the rack, spinning it in my hand. “Darkwin, prepare yourself. You are about to become the mockery of the Stav Wing tonight.”
I tightened my grip on the hilt of the sparring blade. Kael had a kind heart, but he was a warrior. As a jarl’s son, even disowned as a bastard, he’d been taught with wooden blades at his earliest steps.
