"Ronan speaks brashly," Ashyn said. "He is a warrior. It is their way. He knows he cannot determine my path for me. Yet I will insist he stay at my side, as my personal guard. I presume we'll be moving on as soon as your scouts . . ." She looked between the two of them. "And that doesn't matter now, does it? We cannot wait for the scouts to return with news of Moria. Fiend dogs mean Alvar Kitsune is near, which means we must flee, quickly, before he sends something else after us."
"Or comes himself," Edwyn said. "Yes, we must presume that the creatures are his work and that they were sent to attack us and allow his men to capture you, which would explain why you were not attacked. We must leave. Quickly."
"We will," Ronan said. "But as we go, I want to know more about these dragons. How far is the journey? How long will this require? Because I know Ash's main concern is her sister, and while duty to the empire will take her along with you, she will not wish to be gone far or long."
Ashyn glanced over with a faint smile, thanking him for saying what she dared not.
"Come then," Edwyn said. "I'll explain as we pack."
FOURTEEN
The bandits had lied. Shocking, truly. They apparently hadn't "stumbled upon" Moria and Gavril the night before. They'd already been on the trail of Gavril's mother when the source they'd paid handsomely for that tip had brought them another--the traitor and his supposed lover had been spotted together nearby.
When the bandits left them in the wagon again, Gavril sank into the corner, his expression one she'd seen before. At Edgewood. When he'd discovered that she had not lied about the massacre.
Moria had spent the last fortnight telling herself she'd imagined that haunted horror in his eyes. But now, seeing it again, she knew it was not a reaction he was capable of manufacturing.
He hadn't truly believed her when she'd first said Edgewood had been destroyed. She'd thought then that he believed her a foolish child with an active imagination. But while he'd suspected his father had raised the shadow stalkers they'd fought in the forest, he still had not believed him capable of massacring a village. Then he'd seen it for himself.
She remembered him staring at the corpse of the baker's wife.
"It's all . . . I don't understand. This isn't . . . Something's gone wrong."
He'd known his father had planned some sorcery. Likely the raising of the shadow stalkers in the forest. But letting them massacre a village? Never.
Moria crouched in front of him now. "These men will not harm your mother."
"He said her corpse was sufficient--"
"He lies. You know the emperor has no bounty on your mother. Toman only hopes one will be paid. He said he wouldn't take a chance delivering my corpse. He will not with hers either."
Gavril looked up. "I wouldn't have let him--"
"--kill me? You wouldn't have had a choice, Gavril. I did not suspect you were serious when you said you'd be happy to see me dead. Not yet anyway. Perhaps after another day in this wagon together."
She smiled, but he didn't seem to notice, too lost in his thoughts.
"Tell me about your mother," she said.
He shook his head. "It is not important."
"When we stop at her hiding place, there may be a chance of escape. For all three of us. So allow me to distract you and clear your head. Tell me about her."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Have you met Maiko? Tyrus's mother?"
"No. She was out of the city when I arrived and had not returned before we left."
"Ah, then that's why the emperor was also away." He caught her look. "Yes, I'm well aware of Maiko's fondness for pilgrimages and the emperor's habit of vanishing when she's gone. I remember, growing up, I used to listen to bards' tales . . ." He paused at her raised brows. "Yes, I listened. Wild stories are not to my taste, but if others were singing them at parties and such, I had little choice."
"Of course."
"As I was saying . . . I recall those tales often ending with the warrior marrying the lady, which I always found a very unsatisfying resolution. If they were truly in love, they would not marry. One married for duty. Love was something altogether different."
"Your parents were not in love."
"My father married to produce heirs, as is common for a man of his stature. Unfortunately, as you well know, it did not work well. After three successive wives, he has only me. As you've rightly pointed out before, the problem almost certainly does not reside in the women. I'm quite certain he has not produced any children even through . . . ah . . ."
"Mistresses?"