Draylon and Yarif ran for the keep.
Chapter Thirty-one
Draylonpacedthefloor,occasionally glancing out a window overlooking the garden, where Yarif had watched peaceful snowfall just last night. He joined Yarif as Rufe, Niam, and a few of Niam’s men trudged up the garden path and into the keep.
Two guards assisted Rufe. Had he been injured?
A few moments later, a knock sounded. Draylon opened the door on a haggard-looking Niam, who entered and closed the door.
“Where is Rufe?” Draylon demanded.
“He is safe for now.” Niam dropped into a chair. Blood marred his hair, face, and cloak. “Those were Whreyn’s men. We killed two more and captured one, but three got away, no doubt to carry word to their thieving wolf of a master.” Anger rolled off him. “I would take you to task, Cousin Yarif, but you should have been safe on the keep’s grounds. Seems I’m missing two sentries. Are the two of you well?”
“Just a few cuts. Your mother is highly skilled with needle and thread.” Draylon displayed the bandage on his forearm. “Though Bert nearly questioned us to death.”
“Did he?” Niam’s eyebrows reached for his forehead.
“Yes. Your mother finally sent him away."
Niam’s eyes narrowed, and he emitted a low growl. “He’s the one who gave away your presence to begin with. I think it’s time he answered a few questions of his own.”
“Don’t be too hard on the boy,” Draylon said. “He’s young. He’ll learn.” Though he fully understood Niam’s need to ensure his family's safety.
“Yes, but what will he learn? As Mother’s apprentice, he has access to my family and information that others would kill for. I told you there may be spies in my own household. As much as it pains me, I should stop dismissing his incessant questions as curiosity and look deeper.
“Rufe is in his room. I’m afraid our dear captain tried to prevent an attacker from escaping on horseback. He’s injured his leg. Mother is tending him now." Niam let out a weary sigh. “I have made arrangements. You must leave at dawn. I’ll return to Dellamar. I’ve been away from my duties for too long.”
Tomorrow. They’d leave tomorrow.
Running from enemies once more. And running towards them, too.
“By leaving now, you’ll be out of the mountains by the next heavy snowfall,” Niam said over an early breakfast. “I’ve sent men to collect Lord Whreyn, but they haven’t yet returned.” He raised his gaze, anger simmering in its depths. “I finally have the proof I need to arrest him. They are to take him to the castle, where I really do have a dungeon. He shall be—dealt with when we find him. We’re compiling a list of sympathizers who might hide him.”
Draylon nodded, jaw clenched. He’d known this day would come. “I’m stopping by the Glendoran camp I mentioned to return the mules, get my horse, and speak to the commander. I plan on dismissing the soldiers back to their homes before the weather turns bad there, too.”
“You would override your father’s authority?” Nera asked.
Draylon scowled. Now, more than ever, he didn’t want to be known as the emperor’s son. Unlike in days past, however, he’d earned his own reputation and respect—which likely irked Father no end.
“My apologies, Draylon.” Nera tried again. “You’d override the emperor’s authority?”
“Commander Illa is gone. Until further notice, I’ll seek to retake control of the combined Cormira forces, one reason to talk to the commander I mentioned.” Besides, they were into late fall, and though Vihaan loaned him sturdy clothes, Draylon doubted Glendor’s troops came fully prepared for the brutality of a Delletina winter, particularly not if they’d predicted a quick and easy victory.
As Father would have.
“But you’re a king,” Nera said.
Niam paused eating his plate of eggs. “Before we kings all grew soft, leaders of a country were often leaders on the battlefield. In fact, it was expected.”
“Warrior kings,” Rufe added. Hard not to notice how close he’d pulled his chair to King Niam’s. Nor the swathes of bandages on his leg.
Which made Draylon’s next decision easier. “Yes, and Rufe? With King Niam’s permission, I’d like you to remain here.”
Rufe nearly choked on a mouthful of tea. “Me? Why?”
No complaints yet. Promising. “Because I’m about to make a scene, as my mother would say. I don’t want you to be caught in the fight. Fa—Emperor Soland has always been jealous of our friendship and waiting for any misstep to punish you. Besides, I hope to continue our conversations about Delletina joining the empire one day.”
Rufe narrowed his eyes. “Are those the only reasons?”
