Draylon winced. The title would take some getting used to if he didn’t find a way to lose it entirely.
Jayra saluted. “Your Majesty.” Her voice contained a bit of an island lilt.
“What did you mean by the consort being killed?” Wouldn’t Yarif be held for ransom?
“Think about it. What better way to get the people up in arms than to kill your mate?” Jayra stalked into the tent like a sleek cat.
While the people of Renvalle might support Yarif, the remainder of the empire might now as well, if they felt slighted. “But he’s known as the son of a traitor.”
“Who has done no traitorous acts of his own,” Rufe supplied.
“There are suspicions that Yarif’s father might conspire with Delletina. Why would an ally have him killed?” Unless they needed to silence someone who knew too much. In Yarif’s meticulously kept records, nothing hinted at wrongdoing by anyone other than King Lleval and Prince Barostian. Oh, how Draylon hated court intrigue.
Jayra shared a glance with Rufe, something unspoken passing between them. “Because those riders might have worn Delletina colors, but few appeared to have military training. All spoke Cormiran.”
“How do you know?”
Jayra’s lips pulled back into a smile, revealing straight, even teeth. “Our orders said not to pursue, but if a soldier happened to be in the woods gathering, say, mushrooms or herbs for the stewpot and happened to be going the same direction as the riders…” Jayra smirked at Commander Vihaan. “With my commander’s permission, of course.”
“I do love mushrooms,” Vihaan supplied, “and what kind of commander would I be if I didn’t keep a watch on the comings and goings of a country I’m expected to invade?”
Draylon would’ve done the same in their positions. He liked Jayra already. Vihaan won a bit more respect too.
“Did you see Yarif? He’s tall, blond, and ridiculously beautiful.”
“There was a thin blond man with no armor. To him, the leader, a woman, spoke Renvallian.”
Draylon's heart clenched in his chest. “Does this leader have short brown hair, walk with a swagger, rides a roan mare?”
“Yes. She’s one of the few with military bearing.”
Relief flooded Draylon. At least Yarif still lived. “They’re not far ahead of us. We can catch them.”
Vihaan gestured to Jayra. “She’ll accompany you. Jay, choose five of your most reliable mercenaries. I believe you know the ones I mean. As soon as Dray… His Majesty and Captain Rufe are fed and rested, you’ll ride.”
“But… we can’t let them get ahead of us. We must go now.” Every second put Yarif farther away.
“No.” Vihaan held up a hand to ward off protests. “The brigands must rest as well and hunt for so big a party. They can’t have brought enough provisions for a two-week journey if they’re heading for the capital.”
Provisions. Something Yarif had said came to mind. “Have you been helping yourself to village stores?”
“Yes. Though we’re careful not to leave them with nothing.”
Yarif said many villages reported missing stores. “You’re not the only force along the border, I’m thinking.”
“Right you are, Your Majesty. The empire is braced for a full invasion, although those words are not currently being used. We’re called a defensive force in official communication but have been supplied maps, albeit old ones, of Delletina.” Vihaan stretched his long legs out in front of him. “While I’m one for following orders, I have no intention of sending troops to their deaths without knowing what we’re up against and why we fight.”
“I must go. I’ve preparations to make.” Jayra clapped her arm over her chest in a salute once more, this time to Vihaan, Draylon, and Rufe in turn, then strode out of the tent.
Vihaan kept his voice low. “You are Dray and Rufe, common enough names in the empire. We don’t want to escalate matters further if someone is already plotting a way to force a war. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave your armor and fine horse, Your Majesty, but I’ll provide suitable weapons, mounts, and arms. You’ll be members of a party led by Jayra. From here on out, use no titles. Take nothing with you to show your true identity or your wealth.”
Draylon knew the routine, having spied before, but he’d not slept since Yarif was taken and, for the first time, couldn’t push aside personal feelings to focus on his mission.
Yarif had done everything asked of him, receiving relatively little in return. He didn’t deserve to be kidnapped and used as leverage.
To start a war.
In the background, behind this whole ordeal, lurked Father’s spidery shadow.
