“How many?” Illa snapped.
“Seven or eight people.”
“How far?”
“A half-day’s ride.”
“Are they wearing uniforms?”
“No, milady.”
“Damn it! Don’t you know how to give a report? Must I pull every bit of information out of you? Tell me, do they have horses?”
“Yes, milady.” The man kept his head bowed, voice a bit wavering. Illa commanded through fear, not respect.
Illa sighed and rolled her eyes. “It’s so hard to find good lackeys. Is there a huge black horse among their mounts?”
“No, milady. Just sturdy mountain mules.”
Illa paused for a few moments. “Probably traders, but keep a watch. And for the love of all the gods, learn how to give a fucking report. You should’ve said, ‘Our scouts saw seven or eightridersperhaps a half day’s ride behind us. They’re dressed as ordinary folk and riding mules.’ That would have told me all I needed to know—that they aren’t a pursuing army. I’ll speak to the scouts later about not knowing an accurate number. Now get out of my sight.”
The man nodded, fidgeting for a moment before blurting, “We’ve also lost two more men. We haven’t seen them since making camp.”
Illa swore but shook off her agitation. “More money to divide between the rest of you once we receive our reward.”
Reward? Seven or eight people following? Would someone intent on a rescue bring so few? Without uniforms? Surely the emperor, or Draylon, would send out legions if they wanted Yarif back.
Yarif’s heart sank. They didn’t plan to save him. No one would come. The travelers were likely traders, like Illa said. What would become of Renvalle? The twins? Would Draylon now choose a more suitable consort, perhaps a woman who could give him heirs?
He’d stood before the cleric, the deities, and witnesses and swore to protect Yarif. A lie designed to keep Yarif amiable, no doubt.
But what if it wasn’t a lie?
Hot tears stung Yarif’s eyes and clogged his throat. He hadn’t felt so alone since his mother’s death. He allowed his tears to fall in earnest when Illa wandered off.
Yarif sank into a fantasy of first laying eyes on his wooly barbarian. Then seeing Draylon again, cleanshaven, with a nasty scar Yarif kept meaning to ask about. The curve of Draylon’s smile and his gentle, callused hands. Yarif imagined Draylon draped over him, the way he groaned when he came…
The barbarian was the emperor’s legitimate son, yet spoke fondly of May and didn’t talk down to his men. So many facets to the man. How sad that Yarif wouldn’t get to learn the rest of them.
He stared up at an exceptionally bright star with blurry eyes.Deities, please take care of Adrina and Emile.
Because Yarif’s heart wouldn’t let him do otherwise, he added,And Draylon.
Chapter Twenty
Draylonperchedonaprecarious ledge, studying the dwindling party below. Seemed they’d lost a few of their number. Were they in the woods, scouting? If so, they’d been gone a few days now.
If not for Rufe, Draylon would have charged in, sword raised, never mind the consequences.
Soon, Yarif. I’ll have you back soon.
Jayra crept beside Draylon, seemingly unperturbed by the height of the precipice he perched on, the air that didn’t satisfy his lungs, or the chill morning.
“They’re down to sixteen now,” Jayra said, watching the group make their way up a steep incline. “Most aren’t trained fighters, except two soldiers nearly too old to lift a sword and a couple of deserters the Cormiran forces are well rid of. The old men grumble a lot. They also spit after saying the name ‘Commander Illa.’ I’ve only heard Cormiran spoken so far. According to the elders while keeping guard, seven of their number have deserted so far. There is no loyalty to this Commander Illa, and I’ve seen kinder snakes. Where loyalty lacks, allegiance can be bought.” She flashed a grin. “The mercenary code.”
Nice to have Jayra on Draylon’s side instead of against him. He nodded. “Where is the best place to stage an attack?” He didn’t need to tell her how each moment cut into his soul, reminded him he’d been suspicious and resentful of Yarif. Draylon wouldn’t have cared what happened to Yarif a few weeks ago, judging him by his family instead of his own merit.
How many times had Draylon railed against someone doing the same to him?
