I nodded, trying to ignore the knot swelling in my throat again.
He grinned. “And Rafe’s shins?”
I knew he was trying to lighten my mood, and for that I was grateful. “Fine for now, but this isn’t over.”
“I never thought it was.”
His vote of confidence in me was like cool water on a parched throat. I wanted to hug him, but that would only have brought him additional scrutiny.
The guards became nervous with this conversation they couldn’t understand, as if they suspected we were conspiring—which we were. I stepped closer to Kaden and whispered to really give them something to worry over. “When we leave, Eben will have to stay behind with Griz. It will just be the two of us—with Malich out there somewhere. Are the odds against us?”
“He’d have been there with the others in the Valley of Giants if he was sent to kill you. I think he’s on his way to Civica with a message.”
“That I’m dead?”
“That you’ve escaped. They won’t count you as dead until they have a body—and they’ll know exactly where you’re headed.”
Which meant the Chancellor and his coconspirators would be waiting for me. Probably watching every road leading into the city. The element of surprise was no longer mine. I didn’t need anything to be harder than it already was.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tavish and Orrin sauntering up to us shoulder to shoulder. They circled, stopping on either side of me. “We’re here to relieve the guards, Your Highness,” Tavish said, casting a withering state at Kaden.
“Off you go, Percy,” Orrin added, with a shooing motion. “Colonel wants you all back at his office. Go.”
Tavish gave a respectful nod toward me. “We’ll be your escorts for the rest of the day.”
?
?By whose orders?” I asked.
Tavish smiled. “Ours.”
Neither Tavish nor Orrin spoke Vendan, so I quickly spoke a few last Vendan words to Kaden. “We’ll talk more later. We need to gather supplies.”
Tavish cleared his throat. “And Jeb will be joining us shortly.”
His message was clear. Jeb spoke Vendan. I sighed. This was more than loyalty to a king—it was loyalty to their friend.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The Morrighese army came into being centuries before any of the others had so much as set a cornerstone to the foundation of their realms. It was yet another thing the Holy Text emphasized—that the Holy Guardians, the fierce warriors who accompanied Morrighan on her trek through the wilderness had unmatched strength and wills of steel bequeathed by the heavens themselves, to ensure the survival of the chosen Remnant.
Aldrid, who was to become her husband and the revered father of the kingdom, was one of those guardians. His warrior blood ran through all of us. The citadelle even had some of the Holy Guardians’ swords displayed in the throne room—reminders of our greatness and the anointing of the gods.
Throughout history, the Morrighese army had remained great, and its soldiers were courageous and honorable. But as I watched the Dalbretch troops going through their exercises and training from my vantage point on the outpost wall, I was struck by their daunting precision. Their halberds were braced with formidable timing, their shields were interlocked with the ease of a perfected dance. Confidence emanated from every meticulously orchestrated move. They practically glowed with intimidation. Their strength and discipline were like none I had ever seen. I understood why they believed in their power. But they couldn’t see what I did—their numbers.
Even with an army forty thousand strong, they were no match for the terrible greatness of Venda. After Morrighan fell, Dalbreck would be next.
My gaze rose to the wide expanse above the troops where a crescent moon shared the sky with the departing sun. Another day was gone, fewer still remaining. Time moved forward, circling, repeating, another devastation coiling like a poisonous serpent that had awakened, ready to strike. It was coming, and hidden forces in Morrighan were helping it in the most insidious way—from within—feeding it with power that would destroy us all.
There had to be a way.
Jezelia, whose life will be sacrificed for the hope of saving yours.
A different way.
I wrestled with Venda’s words. Sacrifice my life for mere hope? I would have preferred more than that—like certainty. But hope was at least something, and as unsure as it was, it was all I had to offer Natiya and so many more. Not even Rafe could take that away. Like the stories that Gaudrel had fed Morrighan, hope was nourishment for an empty belly.
Jeb interrupted my thoughts, saying it was time to get ready for the party. Tavish and Orrin stood several paces behind him, staring at me curiously. I looked out at the practice fields, and all the soldiers were gone. A handful of stars were already lighting the sky. Orrin shifted, sniffing the air, but they all waited for me to make the first move to leave. The three of them had maintained a respectful distance all day, vanishing with skill, just as they had at the Sanctum, but still always there, still always watching.