Exiles

  Jace let them precede him through the door and then stepped in himself. All five of Kyrin’s brothers had already found their seats. Jace, Kyrin, and Meredith squeezed into their empty places. Though a tight fit for them all, no one complained about bumping elbows, and Jace certainly didn’t mind sitting so close to Kyrin. However, he focused on Marcus’s voice as they bowed their heads in prayer. The moment he finished, Michael jumped back into a conversation they appeared to have been in the middle of earlier.

  “Can’t you just ask Trask if I can go along? You’re just going to talk to the cretes. It’s not like it’s a dangerous mission, and I can handle myself anyway.”

  Marcus glanced at their mother at the opposite end of the table but didn’t respond to his younger brother’s request.

  Michael slumped in his chair. “At this rate, everything will be over by the time anyone will let me help.”

  “As much as I wish that were so, this conflict won’t end that soon,” Marcus told him. “It’ll take a lot of time and preparation to drive Daican out of Samara, and who knows beyond that. You’ll get your chance. But . . .”

  Michael’s eager eyes locked with his brother at the promising word.

  Marcus glanced at their mother once more and said, “I suppose I could ask him and see what he says.”

  Michael sat up straight, his face beaming. “Really?”

  Marcus nodded.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jace caught Kyrin’s smile.

  “What about me? Can I come?” Ronny piped up.

  “I think there are already enough people going,” Lydia said gently.

  Her youngest son let out an exaggerated sigh.

  Liam nudged him. “You need to stick around and keep me company.”

  This drew a reluctant smile from the boy.

  The meal passed pleasantly. Before it grew too late in the evening, Kyrin turned to Jace and suggested a walk. Hand in hand, they left the cabin and slowly circled camp. They talked about the mission and what they would see in Dorland. However, Jace could tell that Kyrin took care not to say much concerning the cretes and their treehouses. She was always so sensitive to his struggles.

  When dusk had fallen, they returned to the cabin but did not go inside. Kyrin sat down on a bench in the light of one of the lanterns her brothers had lit, and Jace joined her. They sat for a couple of minutes in silence, looking out into camp until Jace sensed Kyrin’s gaze. He turned to her. Her eyes were soft, yet piercing, as if she could read every thought.

  “Are you still worried about Dagren?”

  Ever since Anne had brought the news of the man responsible for Kalli and Aldor’s deaths, Jace had struggled with fear of what chaos the man might wreak here and with underlying urges for revenge. If only his past didn’t always try to creep in and torment him.

  He nodded slowly. “Yes…but that’s not what I was thinking about.”

  “What is it?”

  He swallowed the uncomfortable knot in his throat. There would never be a time when he could hide any anxieties from her. But was now the appropriate time to discuss his uncertainties and fears? Was he even ready?

  “Us.”

  She shifted to face him more fully. Jace hesitated, searching for words his tongue wouldn’t rebel at. He had to tell her the truth, but every part of him fought coming right out with it.

  “I’m . . . afraid.” He winced. So much of his life had been characterized by the fears he fought to hide. To admit them still took great effort. “Afraid I can’t be everything you deserve.”

  He searched her eyes, and her lips lifted in a little smile.

  “I’m not looking for perfect. If I was, I’d be searching forever.”

  No one may be perfect, but he still failed her with his hesitance in considering a future as her husband. She deserved someone who was as ready as he sensed she was. Someone who would have moved forward by now.

  She gripped his hand in both of hers. “Just think of everything we’ve been through. We’ve seen each other through just about the worst situations we could imagine, and I wouldn’t choose anyone else to face the future with.”

  Jace breathed out slowly, a peaceful warmth growing inside him. If she would stick with him through this, then maybe, with time, he would figure things out. He looked her in the eyes. “I love you.”

  The smile she gave him only further quieted his anxious thoughts. “I love you too.”

  “Sometimes it just takes me a while to work through things.”

  “I know, and that’s all right. I don’t mind.”

  Across camp, Jace spotted Holden and Aaron heading for their cabin. “We should probably get some sleep before tomorrow.”

  Kyrin nodded, and Jace stood, drawing her up with him.

  “Good night,” he told her.

  She echoed him, squeezing his hand before letting go.

  He watched her until she was inside the cabin and the door had shut. Then he let out his breath in a long gust. If he would just marry her, then he would never have to leave her like this.

  “Will this rain ever stop?” Anne stared out the window at the streams of rainwater pouring from the roof. She envied those who had left for Dorland and the prospect of fairer weather. At least they had escaped being cooped up inside day after day.

  “I pray so,” her father responded. “If not, the whole region could lose this season’s crops. It would mean a shortage this winter.”

  Just one more thing they had to worry about.

  Anne turned back to the table, where her father worked on letters to various family members and friends and Elian sharpened one of his daggers. Her mother and Elanor sat sewing. She resumed her seat and took up working on a collection of dolls to give to Meredith and the other little girls in camp. They would need entertainment while shut up in their cabins. She would try to find something for the boys as well. Perhaps her father or Elian had an idea.

  A knock rapped the front door. Everyone stilled. They didn’t receive many visitors lately except for Goler, and now the threat of Dagren. Anne fought to steady her heartbeat, though it raced anyway when her father rose to answer the door. Elian watched him, a readiness hardening his expression.

  Anne whispered a quick prayer as her father opened the door. She turned in her chair and leaned over to see around him. But no black and gold appeared, and she recognized one of Baron Grey’s men. She gripped her chair. Had something happened in Landale?

  “An invitation from the baron for you and your household, sir,” the man announced.

  Anne let out her breath, sagging a little. It would take a moment for her heart rate to return to normal.

  “Thank you,” her father said. “Would you like to come inside and dry off before you return to Landale?”

  “Thank you, sir, but I have more stops to make and should be on my way.”

  Anne’s father nodded and bid him good day. Closing the door, he returned to the table and scanned the parchment parcel in his hand. He broke the seal and read over it, his brows dipping.

  “What does it say?” Anne’s mother asked.

  “The three of us and Elanor are invited to a celebration dinner at Landale Castle in three days to honor Captain Dagren and welcome him to Landale.”

  Anne exchanged a frown with her mother before she rose and looked at the invitation in her father’s hands. “It is Baron Grey’s handwriting, but why would he hold a celebration for Dagren?”

  “He wouldn’t, unless he was pressured to.” Her father sighed and refolded the invitation.

  “Will we attend?” Anne’s stomach bubbled nauseously. It would be bad enough to face Dagren again but, at a party, she would have no way to distance herself from Goler. She shuddered. He would use every advantage this party offered him.

  “I don’t think we have much choice. This is no doubt a test to gauge the loyalty of the locals. We’ll not only have to attend, but enjoy it, or at least make a concerted effort to appear to.”

  Anne groaned. A whole even
ing with Goler and Dagren would require great fortitude. Already her cheeks hurt with the dread of having to wear a fake smile.

  The usual gray clouds blanketed the sky the next day but didn’t drop rain all morning. When it still held after lunch, Anne announced, “I think I’ll ride to Landale and see the baron.”

  “I’m not sure that’s wise,” her father cautioned.

  “It’s just a visit. He must get lonely since he never sees Trask anymore. Besides, I want to know more about this celebration. Trask will want details.”

  Slowly, her father nodded. “All right. I’ll go with you.”

  “It might look more innocent if it’s only me.”

  “Very well, but be careful.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Elanor offered. “I don’t think two young women would raise suspicion.”

  No doubt she was as anxious to get out of the house as Anne was.

  “I’ll have the carriage hitched for you.”

  Anne’s father rose from his seat at the table, but she stopped him. “We can ride.”

  Her father shook his head. “Knowing how the weather has been, it’s likely to start pouring the moment you set off.”

  Anne had to agree. As much as she would have enjoyed the ride, there was no sense in getting soaked and covered in mud.

  Her father crossed the room, and Anne turned to look back at him. “Tell Elian to ride inside with us. I won’t have him riding in the rain just because he’s the bodyguard.”

  “I’ll see if he’ll listen,” her father said with a chuckle as he stepped outside.

  Twenty minutes later, Anne tied on a light cloak to ward off the dampness and stepped out to the porch with Elanor. The carriage waited for them. Elian stood at the open door to help them in. She did not see his horse, so he must have agreed to ride with them. Though he might as well be part of the family now, he kept many strict social rules. However, Anne cared less and less about societal expectations these days. Bodyguard or not, he was a friend, and there was no reason he should ride separately.

  They stepped lightly across the soggy yard. Elian helped Anne into the carriage first, and then Elanor, before ducking in himself. He closed the door, and they settled into their seats. Anne peeked out the window as they pulled away from Marlton and onto the road. Even inside, she felt the wheels sinking into the mud.

  “I hope we don’t get stuck.” She glanced at Elanor. “Then we’ll wish we had ridden.”

  Such a prospect would mortify most noblewomen, but Elanor offered a little grin.

  “We’d return to Marlton looking like the time James and his beastly friends threw mud at me when we were little.”

  “Trask did that once . . . I threw it right back.”

  They shared a laugh.

  Anne looked across at Elian. “Did you ever throw mud at girls?”

  “He would never,” Elanor said, but her eyes were teasing.

  Elian smiled. “I gave my sisters their share of grief.”

  Anne couldn’t quite imagine it, but even quiet little boys had their moments.

  Despite some rough patches, they made it to Landale without incident. They pulled into the courtyard of Landale Castle and stopped near the door. Elian exited first, turning back to help the women out. Anne stepped down and looked around. Regret needled her. She had not visited in some time. Trask had lived in hiding as an outlaw for two years now. Though he had his loyal servants, Baron Grey must be so lonely without his son. Not many people came visiting anymore since Trask’s so-called treason.

  At the door, the butler let them inside and showed them into the parlor. Anne and Elanor took seats on the couch, and Elian stood behind them while they waited. In just a couple of minutes, Baron Grey appeared, and Anne stood to meet him. That needle in her heart punctured deeper.

  The once strong baron seemed to have aged ten years in the last two. Of course, the stressful situation took its toll on all of them. Even her father had deeper lines in his face and more gray hair but poor Baron Grey. He looked so frail, almost sickly now, and much thinner than in all the years she’d known him. However, his sad, tired eyes sparkled with a smile for her.

  “Anne, Lady Elanor, what a pleasant surprise.”

  She smiled in return and gave him a hug. “It’s been far too long since I visited.”

  “It’s hardly easy with this weather,” the baron said, but it was still no excuse for her absence. He gestured to the couch. “Please, sit. I’ve called for tea. You too, Elian. Join us.”

  Elian did not protest, claiming one of the chairs that faced the couch while Baron Grey lowered himself into the other. He coughed as he did so, and Anne’s breath grew shallow.

  “Are you ill, my lord?”

  He waved off her concern. “It’s all this damp weather. It’s not good for my lungs. It’ll clear up as soon as we get some sunshine.”

  Anne relaxed a little, yet couldn’t completely shake her concern. Perhaps he was not ill now, but he could easily become sick and didn’t appear to be in any condition to fight it.

  “We all pray it comes soon, and for more than just a day or two at a time,” she said.

  Grey agreed. Then his smile returned. “It’s so good to have young blood here again. Tell me, have you seen Trask lately? What’s happening out at camp?”

  Anne filled him in on all the recent events and developments—of Warin and Lenae’s wedding and the mission to Dorland. Grey listened eagerly, asking many questions about Trask. If only the two of them could visit safely.

  They spoke for a while over tea before Anne could bring herself to mention more serious matters.

  “We received your invitation.”

  Baron Grey sobered.

  “It was Goler’s idea, wasn’t it?”

  “Goler insisted on it, but I believe the idea belonged to Captain Dagren.”

  “We met him,” Anne said. “He stopped by with Goler last week. I wish he would go back to wherever it is he came from.”

  “Unfortunately, he doesn’t plan on leaving any time soon. At least not until he gets what he’s after . . .”

  “Trask and everyone at camp,” Anne finished.

  The baron nodded gravely.

  “Does he come here often?”

  “Yes, and always with questions.” Grey breathed out heavily. “Many of the same. I think he believes he’ll wear me down and I’ll finally tell him what he wants to hear.”

  Hot coals burned in Anne’s chest. “He shouldn’t question you like this. They have no proof that you have anything to do with the Resistance.”

  Grey gave her a weary shrug. “Perhaps not, but they have their suspicions, and that, it would seem, supersedes my rank. If I wanted to stop him, I’d have to go to the emperor. Since he sent Dagren, I don’t see that it would be to my advantage.”

  Anne fought the outcry to make things right. However, just like the rest of them, Baron Grey was trapped by his circumstances. They all had to live with them until things changed, Elôm willing, for the better.

  They talked for a time of less troublesome things until Anne decided to go before they wore the baron out. He looked so tired already, but their visit certainly added liveliness to his eyes.

  On the way to the door, Anne said, “We will see you in a couple of days.”

  “I look forward to seeing your parents.”

  They traded goodbyes, and Grey said, “When you see Trask . . .” He paused, a wistful longing taking over his face. “Tell him I miss him and how good it is to know that he is well.”

  Anne rested her hand gently on his arm. “I will.”

  Back in the carriage, she set her hands in her lap but clenched them hard. They rolled away from the castle in silence, though her mind remained on Baron Grey and how she might help him. Certainly, she would visit more often.

  Commotion outside jerked her thoughts and the carriage to a halt. She gripped her seat and exchanged a glance with Elanor before looking across at Elian. He leaned toward the window, his hand on his
sword.

  A moment of silence passed, and then the splash of hooves brought a dark horse in front of the window. Anne looked out, meeting Dagren’s gaze. Her insides went cold, and she dug her fingers into the leather-covered seat cushion. Good thing he was outside the carriage so she couldn’t slap him for being such a beast of a man.

  “Lady Anne,” he said, his voice more chilly than the damp air. His hard gaze drifted past her. “Lady Elanor.” He didn’t even acknowledge Elian.

  “Captain,” Anne responded in her sweetest voice, though it was a wonder it made it past her lips.

  “A bit damp to be out and about, is it not?”

  “We are eager to take advantage of any day it is not actively raining.”

  Dagren barely nodded, his gaze shifting to the road behind them. “I see you visited the baron.” His eyes settled back on her. “Why?”

  Anne stiffened and dropped a little of the sweetness. “The baron is a close friend of my family and, in case you hadn’t noticed, he’s lived alone ever since his son ran off. I like to visit and make sure he is well. He has no other family around to do it.”

  Dagren peered suspiciously at her. “Kind of you.”

  Anne forced a smile.

  “Will you attend the celebration?” Dagren asked.

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

  A smile ghosted across Dagren’s lips. “No reason.”

  “Is there anything else you need, Captain?” Anne asked, trying not to sound too impatient. “I’d like to get home before it decides to rain.”

  “No.” His gaze touched Elian briefly but locked once more with Anne. “Good day, my ladies.”

  He moved his horse away from the carriage, and they rolled on.

  Anne let out a breath and sank back into her seat, letting her rigid muscles unwind. It took a little longer for Elian to relax. A tense silence reigned until Elanor spoke.

  “Would it be terribly uncharitable of me to hope his horse trips and throws him in the mud?”