Harlyn opened her mouth to answer, but I said, “Commander Reese, you are relieved of duty.”
He widened his stance as he looked over to me. “Pardon?”
“If you are so exhausted that you forget to address your king with proper respect, then clearly you are too exhausted to lead these soldiers into battle.” I cut off his attempt at a protest by adding, “You are dismissed. Tend to your horse and you can sleep in the stables until you wish to speak to me with respect.”
“And who are you that I should care to address you at all?” Reese’s hand shifted to his sword. “You’re a boy who came from nowhere, without a drop of Halderian blood. Only King Gareth’s ring, which, for all we know, you stole from his finger as he slept.”
“But I am Halderian,” Harlyn said. “And this is your king. If you stand with me, then you must stand with Simon too.”
“I will fight for you alone, my lady, whether as a commander or a stable boy.” Reese’s glare aimed at me contained a tangible heat, the most heat he was likely to feel on this cold night. “But you must excuse me now. My horse needs tending to.”
He grabbed his horse’s reins and began to walk toward the Woodcourt stables. In turn, Edgar, one of the other men I’d overheard back in Nessel, dismounted and said, “My horse also needs attention, my lady.” Ten men and women followed his actions and excuses, and within a minute, every single rider was walking their horse toward the stables.
Harlyn looked up at me and smiled wryly. “That could have gone better.”
“It’s not over yet.” I kissed her hand. “Be safe on your patrols tonight and take care of Gabe.”
“You be safe too,” Harlyn replied. “I daresay you’re about to deal with a far more dangerous situation than I am.”
I nodded as she returned to Woodcourt, worried that she might be right. Somehow I had to face a group of soldiers who had already committed treason in their hearts. All that remained was to finish the job.
We waited to leave until the night was as black as it would become. We had chosen this night for its darkness—a new moon gave us just enough light to guide our horses, and the overcast skies dimmed the stars. We hadn’t expected the snowfall, but Joth said it might keep others off the roads and further mask us. I hoped he was right.
Joth set out first, then me, then Darrow, none of us speaking unless absolutely necessary. Considering the consequences of being discovered too early, I couldn’t think of anything that would make extra noise a necessity.
Unfortunately, that left me alone with my thoughts, and my head was so crowded with them, I didn’t know where to put my attention.
The threads linking our plan together were too thin. There were too many possibilities we could not account for, too many things that could go terribly wrong. Even if everything went right, I was beginning to doubt my own abilities. I’d already tried once to kill Lord Endrick, and that had ended terribly. A second failure would likely be my last mistake ever.
Yet success was the most frightening of all. If I succeeded tonight, then what?
It was a question without an answer, or worse, a question that spawned another hundred questions. At the center of them all: What would happen to Antora after tonight?
What would happen to me? Once I succeeded, would I become
the next target?
Joth would be on my side. But I wasn’t sure if I wanted that.
Despite what he claimed, that his people were not susceptible to corruption, when he had joined powers with me, that had introduced corruption into him. I didn’t know if he could see it in himself as easily as he had recognized it in me in All Spirits Forest. I could see it though. If only I knew what to do for either of us.
Or if anything should be done. The corruption might be all I had to survive the night. It gave me strength, and courage, and assured me I was doing the right thing.
It had lied to me, and in turn, I was lying to everyone else. But if there was a way back now, I didn’t know it.
Suddenly, Joth stopped his horse, holding up an arm to get my attention. He looked over at me, communicating with gestures that we were being watched.
I withdrew the Olden Blade and began surveying the area, searching for any sign of who might be nearby. It was late by now, and the snowfall was heavier than before. Nobody would be out here tonight without good reason.
Then I saw it, a slight movement of a cloak on a road to my left. A row of homes was between us, and our watcher was hiding behind the last of them.
Or watchers … was there more than one?
I gestured to Joth and Darrow that we should continue riding forward, staying ready for anything that might come without leaving ourselves in a position vulnerable to attack. They agreed, and we continued riding, now in a straight line along the narrow street. I rode in the center.
We rounded a corner and stopped. Immediately, my pulse began to race. Gabe was astride his horse in the middle of the road, his eyes trained on me. I straightened up in my saddle and stared with equal coldness, trying to assess how serious a threat he was. His sword was sheathed, and though he had a disk bow within easy reach, his hands were on the horse’s reins.
“We want to talk with you, Kestra,” he said. “Just you.”