Lately, there were too many goings on in the palace that Killian didn’t know about. It felt wrong down to his bones. He used to know everything, down to the stupidest, most insignificant piece of gossip. It was his job—his duty. And it felt like it was slipping through his fingers.
The next time Killian caught sight of Loran through the crowd, the lieutenant was standing with Fyar, their heads bent together as he whispered to the king. Fyar’s face was a blank mask, revealing nothing.
There was that twinge in Killian’s chest again. That nagging in his head that something was afoot. Something they refused to tell him.
Secrets.
Killian hated secrets when he was on the outside of them.
“Stay safe,” Killian said, touching his fingers to Kade’s cheek.It was all they were allowed.
“You too,” breathed Kade, leaning into the touch. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Smiling, Killian said, “Have a little faith in me.”
At the call to mount, twenty of Netyere’s lords swung into their saddles, their guards and healers not far behind them.
Fyar’s pristine white stallion danced eagerly as they waited for the start. Killian had caught the slightest trembling of Fyar’s legs as he pushed off the ground and swung into the saddle, a lingering weakness. He made a show of adjusting his reins to cover it.
Hokda and Killian settled onto their own mounts and took their places behind Fyar.
Ready.
Leather reins cracked and heels dug into horses ribs at the long, coiling sound of the starting horn. There was the thundering sound of stampeding hooves as they set off at a gallop.
Not long after entering the forest, the group broke. Hokda and Killian followed Fyar while the others split into four or five distinct groups.
The horses were sure over the uneven terrain, strong legs pumping, tearing through the soft earth under their feet.
It didn’t take long for Fyar to pull up on his reins and slow their pace. His intentions to take the first day slow were clear despite never having been spoken aloud. Out of the public eye, Fyar let his exhaustion show, his shoulders sagged and he swayed a bit in the saddle. He needed to rest. It wasn’t like it was much of a competition to him anyway.
Killian’s teeth curled over his lip in disgust as the eight legs of the giant arachnid curled inwards after death, caving in on itself like a worm drying in the sun.
Gods, Killian hated spiders. He always had and he always will, no matter the size. It didn’t help that these arachnids were larger than the horses that they rode, their huge bulbous bodies weighing hundreds of pounds and their eight furry legs meters long.
Killian hoped it was the last arachnid that they would encounter, not wanting to lay eyes on one ever again, and he wasn’t even the one in the ring with it. He was watching from a distance, Hokda at his side, holding Fyar’s reins, like a useless idiot. He hated just having to stand as Fyar fought alone. It made him antsy. Itchy.It went against every fiber of his being.
Guards were forbidden from interfering in the hunt, no matter the situation. The lords were to fight and die on their own.Only after, or if they fled, could healers approach.
There were beads of sweat at Fyar’s hairline as he wiped blood off of his blade.
Hokda dismounted and approached the carcass carefully. He stuck a large spoke into the body, a white flag waving on the end. Fyar’s colors. It would tell the runners who made the kill as they went around each night to collect the bounty of the hunt.
The healer then crouched at the arachnid’s mouth and started milking out venom from the pincers near its mouth.
Killian leaned against his saddle horn. “We should make camp for the night.”
Fyar grunted. “It’s barely midday.”
“You need rest. You barely slept last night.”
“You’re not any better.”
“Exactly,” said Killian. “None of us slept. Which is why we should camp now. You can sleep.Ican sleep.” As if that would sweeten the pot and make camping early more enticing.
Fyar didn’t look convinced.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Hokda piped up from where he was still picking the arachnid’s body clean of any medicinal parts. “I’d like to remind you, Fyar, that you also went againstmyadvice when you decided not to drop out of this event. The captain has the right idea, we should camp as early as possible. You’re still recovering.”
